Epilogue: Distant Thunder

"WERE YOU OUT OF YOUR MINDS?"

Ron and Wesley stood in the centre of the Burrow's kitchen, heads bowed against the wrath of Molly Weasley.

"DID YOU TAKE LEAVE OF YOUR SENSES?"

Harry and Hermione stood at the doorway, excused for their guest status, and for the fact that Hermione had been kidnapped. They both looked like they felt they should be in the center of the room with the two boys.

"WHAT ON EARTH POSSESSSED YOU TO JUST JUMP HALFWAY ACROSS THIS COUNTRY TO CONFRONT THE DARKEST OF ALL THE DARK WIZARDS?"

"Hermione needed help," Wesley muttered.

Mrs. Weasley's glare softened in spite of herself. She lowered her voice to a grim monotone. "And your first thought was to go off, alone? You didn't think of telling someone what had happened?"

"Voldemort did say that I had to come," said Wesley. "Mum-Hermione was kidnapped because of me."

The anger drained from the room, leaving plenty of tension behind. Frustrated, Mrs. Weasley turned her attention to Ron. "And you, what's your excuse? Going off after Wesl-your so-him!" She jabbed a finger at Wesley. "Did you even think of telling someone what had happened?"

Arthur Weasley cleared his throat. "Molly, dear, the boy did leave clear instructions on how to follow him."

"Did you send people?" asked Wesley before Mrs. Weasley could retort. "Did they find anything?"

"Only a dark cave showing signs of having been recently abandoned by the Death Eaters," Mr. Weasley replied.

"So, they did move on," muttered Harry.

Mr. Weasley looked at his wife. "Molly, let's revisit this after breakfast. It's late, and the children need their sleep, though I fear they won't get much."

The anger left Mrs. Weasley entirely, making her look weary and gaunt. "I suppose," she said with a sigh. A flash of her fire returned to her eye for a second as her gaze returned to Wesley and Ron. "But don't think this is the end of this!" She stormed off, scattering Fred, George and Ginny, who had been listening from the stairs.

"We'd better go to bed too," said Hermione, stepping forward. She hugged Wesley and then, taking Ron's hand, allowed herself to be led upstairs. Harry stared in astonishment when Mr. Weasley didn't comment.

"Sir," said Wesley to Mr. Weasley.

Mr. Weasley chuckled. "Please, call me granddad."

"Granddad." Wesley stumbled over the word. "When I spoke to Voldemort, he said something to me about Dumbledore. Is he really in trouble from the Ministry of Magic?"

Mr. Weasley suddenly became very interested in the parlour door.

"Granddad, am I in trouble with the Ministry of Magic?"

Mr. Weasley turned to him seriously. "You're not in trouble. At least not with me. Neither is Dumbledore. He has enough of a history of good decisions behind him for most of us at the Ministry to respect his choice. Some can't quite understand his reasoning, that's all. Nothing to worry yourself about."

He shifted on his feet, and then headed abruptly for the kitchen door. "Don't stay up too late."

Harry and Wesley stood alone.

Harry looked from Wesley to Mr. Weasley's departing back and raised his eyebrows. "I hear milk and cookies are good for moments like this."

Wesley stared at him. "What?"

But Harry just patted his shoulder as he turned away and prepared two plates and two glasses. He motioned for Wesley to sit with him at the kitchen table. The two ate their midnight snack in silence.

"Why can't you tell us what you know, Wesley?" asked Harry at last.

"Because Dumbledore thought it wise," the boy replied.

"Do you think it's wise?"

"Yes."

Harry chewed his cookie. "After all that Voldemort did?"

"Yes."

"With all that Voldemort knows?"

"Yes!"

Harry raised his hands for silence. Then he asked in a low, patient voice. "Why?"

Wesley took a long sip of his milk. Finally, he said, "Imagine for a moment that a time traveller set himself down in the middle of the Spanish Civil War. Let's say he decides to change history. Who'd begrudge him that? It's what I did, after all. But let's say that he says to the Monarchists fighting against Franco's Fascists: 'I know what to do. I can build you an atomic bomb. You can use it on your enemies and secure your country for the next fifty years.' Leaving aside the stupidity of actually using an atomic bomb in a civil war, let alone for any reason, let us assume that all he wants is to save lives over the long term. Let us say that he's successful, and that Monarchists win, and democracy flourishes decades before it would under Franco's regime. He may have saved millions of lives, but at what cost?"

Harry just stared at him, eyebrows raised.

"In the analogy, the genie's out of the bottle," Wesley continued. "He's saved Spain, but he's brought back technology from the future in order to do it. The scientists of the era, they're not stupid: they could analyze the blast sites if they had to in order to figure out how to build the atomic bomb faster. England could get it years before the Americans actually did, and so could Nazi Germany."

Harry winced.

Wesley nodded. "The fewer people who know what I know, the less chance that my knowledge will be misused."

"It won't end here," said Harry. "Voldemort knows who you are and what you can do. He'll throw everything at us rather than risk what you can do."

"We all knew war was coming," said Wesley. "We all knew Voldemort was powerful and full of hate. Is he so much harder to beat now that he might be afraid as well?

Harry sighed. "You're probably right. But when war does come, we'll need something to beat him. Something big."

"Dumbledore may know what to do then," said Wesley. "Advanced spells or no, we do have the equivalent of a Muggle atomic bomb. I just hope we don't have to use it."

With that, he drained the last of his milk and slipped off his chair. He stepped out of the room, leaving Harry to his own thoughts.

END.