Notes - I had some trouble with my computer this week and it's finally been fixed. If I can I'll always let you guys know when a chapter is going to be late, at the end of the latest chapter or on my profile. Sorry for the delay!

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Lily walked from the kitchen down to the sitting area, a mug of tea in each hand. She offered one to Remus but he shook his head and lifted a vial of potion he had. It would dull his heightened senses so that he could stand to be here, in a tent at the Quidditch World Cup with hundreds and thousands of others around it. He had to drink it every half an hour and neither of them expected he would sleep tonight. But it meant a lot to Harry and to all of them that he had come along.

"Would you like this?" she asked Hermione, who was sitting in a chair across from Remus.

"Oh? Yes, thank you."

She was a dear girl, not saying anything about how cold it was getting, just holding on to her patchy blanket and refusing to take off her jacket. The boys wouldn't notice, they were running around the tent so much that they were red in the face and Ginny was laughing with them. Lily put her mug down for a minute so that she could light the portable heater they had brought. Then she called out to James, who was outside the tent.

"Do you want anything, James? I've just lit the heater. Aren't you getting cold?"

His face appeared at the opening of the tent. "No, no, I'm all right. It's all excitement out here!"

They were camped near a lot of Ireland supporters who had been singing and laughing since their team had won the cup. The Bulgaria supporters weren't much better, dealing with the loss by drinking and getting rowdy. Everyone was in high spirits.

Everyone, it seemed, except James, who hadn't wanted to come here at all. He had a bad feeling, thought it wasn't safe. For all that he loved the sport he didn't want to put them in danger so that he could enjoy it. Arthur bought the tickets before he realised James might not want them, and they were so ridiculously expensive and it was such an appealing idea that James had finally surrendered. Harry didn't know that for a time it had looked like they wouldn't be able to come. He didn't appear to have noticed that his father had taken it upon himself to guard the tent.

"Would you like some tea?" Lily tried again.

"Oh, er, no, thank you love. I'll just ask the others, just a moment-" His face disappeared and there was the half-muffled sound of him talking to Percy and Oliver. He reappeared and smiled at her. "No, we're alright. Perce says he might come in a bit later, make himself a cup."

Lily nodded and sat down next to Remus, wishing that those lines hadn't appeared at James' forehead and eyes, the ones that were always there when he was stressed. There wasn't anything to worry about. They'd been here a day already and everything was fine. Nowhere was as safe as home, but they didn't mean everywhere else was dangerous.

Besides, if anything truly bad was going to happen Simon would have told her about it.

Remus downed the potion, frowning a little and tucking the vial into his pocket.

"Does that taste really awful?" Hermione asked him.

"Not as bad as Wolfsbane."

"Couldn't you add something to make it taste better? Sugar or mint or fruit, the sort of thing you put in food? There's got to be something that doesn't react with the potion. Even just neutralising the taste so it doesn't bother you-"

Remus laughed and Lily thought that being a professor this past year had been good for him. He looked younger – not younger, his age. He looked his age. None of them had realised just how bad things had been for him until they'd gotten better.

"It's not the taste with this one. It's the texture. Like drinking slime." He shuddered. "It doesn't taste a bad as Wolfsbane and I don't have to take as much of it. But I do have to take it more often. With any potion that you need to use, rather than want to use, there are going to be problems. And in my case the potions aren't being refined by the Ministry. I just have to manage with it."

Hermione thought over that for a moment. "If I work on improving them, would you help me?"

Lily hid her smile with her mug.

"Well...yes. But are you sure there aren't things you'd rather be doing? Like advocating for the rights of house elves? I thought that was very good."

Before Hermione could answer Dobby Apparated next to them with a startling crack. He was wearing a knitted sweater with a shamrock very nearly larger than him pinned to it. Since Harry had freed him he was able to go where he liked, and was finally doing that instead of following them around when they told him over and over again that he didn't have to. But he had a habit of turning up at strange moments.

"Is anyone needing Dobby?"

"No, Dobby. We didn't call for you. Go back to what you were doing," Lily said long-sufferingly.

"Ah, yes m-" He hesitated, looking down at the floor with his large eyes. "Yes ma- m- mm." Dobby gave up trying to find a word to call her and glanced around the tent, noticing the jackets and scarves the twins had strewn across a table and edging towards them, looking quickly back at Lily.

She nodded and he fell on them, Disapparating and Apparating around the tent to put everything away. It was taking a long time but he would learn that friends could do work for friends, but that they weren't obliged to. It was hard for him to fight what he had been urged to do for so many years. While her opinion of the Malfoys was much better now than it had been two years ago, Lily didn't think they treated their servants with anything other than cruelty. They were purebloods who only cared about purebloods. And power, which was why Harry's family was in their good books.

"Victor, I love you!" sang one of the twins at the other end of the tent.

"Victor, I dooo!" joined his brother.

"When we're apart my heart beats only for you!" they sang together with Harry as they danced around a wild-looking Ron, waving Ireland banners around. Dobby Apparated between them and they burst out laughing. Arthur was sitting near them, counting out Muggle money and staring at twenty pence and two pound coins with bemusement.

There was the sound of Hermione putting her mug down and everything was so odd but also so normal that Lily didn't notice the sounds of screaming outside until James ran in and shouted at them to move.

Remus stood up quickly. "What is it?"

"Death Eaters. Everyone – we need to get out. They're coming."

"What?" The blood rushed out of Lily's face. "No, James-"

Coins fell to the ground and Arthur went to his children. "Stop. All of you, we've got to go. Leave everything, just make sure you have your wands. Fred, George, Ginny is your responsibility. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Dad." They dropped their banners and walked quickly over to the tent's opening. Oliver was holding it open and Percy stood behind him, looking anxious.

"Hermione, come on-" Remus offered her a hand.

"Leave her here, Remus. DOBBY!" James called out. "They have a Muggle family suspended in the air. They're after Muggle-borns."

Lily's hands were shaking and she couldn't get them to stop. This was too familiar. They'd done this before.

Crack!

"Mr Potter has called for Dobby?"

"Yes. I need you to please take Hermione and Lily-"

"NO!"

"-and Apparate them away. Not to Godric's Hollow. Take them to Hogwarts."

"Yes, Mr Potter. Dobby will do that."

"No, James! You can't do that! I should be here-" Lily touched his face with her hands, like she was trying to hold on to him, to plead with him not to make her leave her family and friends when she could help, she could fight too, it was something she had done before and had known she would do again.

"Lily," James said her name with such gravity, and put a hand on one of hers. "They're after Muggle-borns."

"No, no..."

"You're not safe. You and Hermione. If the others get out of their way, they'll be left alone. But they will look for you. You have to go, now. Hermione, do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Send Harry. Not me. They want him too, don't keep him here. Please, James!"

"Dobby can only take two people safely. And they're not here for Harry. They're here to make a show and to hurt every Muggle and Muggle-born they can find. We can hide him, but I can't risk them finding you. I won't do it, Lily. Go."

"Save him, James. Don't save me!" Lily was crying now, because she knew what he had decided and she was so, so frightened by so many things.

"Lily. Please." He touched her cheek, looking into her eyes.

Outside people were screaming. It was getting louder. Lily was choking on her tears. James took her hands and placed one of them in Dobby's. She tightened her grip and watched her husband step back to stand with their son, putting a hand on his shoulder. They looked at her and at the last second Lily almost let go, but then she was being Apparated away.

The world warped and shifted into the wide, empty hallways of Hogwarts. Lily made a great gasping sound and fell to her knees. Why had this happened? Why was she safe when they were not? Why did they have to have enemies, just because of who and what they were? Why did she have to wait, now, to find out if the people she loved had survived a battle she'd been removed from?

There was another crack as Dobby Disapparated.

Hermione crouched down beside her and rubbed her back in a comforting gesture.

Lily hated herself for it, but she began to cry again.

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Tents were on fire. The wind sent smoke and ash all over them. As the Weasleys came out of the tent, Oliver looked over his shoulder and saw about a dozen black-robed figures walking in their direction. They were the ones everyone was running from. Their wands were pointed up to the sky, where several people were suspended. Muggles and Muggle-borns. Mr Potter was right, Mrs Potter and Hermione were in the most danger. If the house-elf could take them away then it should.

"Do you have your wand?" Percy whispered to him.

He nodded. "You?"

"Yes." Percy pulled one of the twins over as he came out. "Fred, I need you to look after them. There are a lot of people around, we might get separated. Stay as close as you can to the others. You're the oldest, you need to take care of them."

Fred shook off his hand and frowned at him. "You didn't need to tell me that. Look, just don't you be an idiot either. I'll see you back at home."

The house-elf Disapparated, taking Mrs Potter and Hermione with him. James and Harry came out of the tent. "Everyone, run as fast as you can to the forest. Stick together. Don't let anyone fall behind. If you can help someone, do it, but not at any cost to yourself. What's most important is that all of you are safe. Now, go!"

They ran, joining all the others who were fleeing their tents. Oliver hung back, glancing at the Death Eaters and the people suspended in the air. Percy ran a few steps but stopped when he saw that Oliver wasn't following.

"What are you doing?" he asked angrily.

"I can take a broom – this is the Quidditch World Cup, there'd be one around here somewhere – we can fly – we'll be out faster."

Percy stepped up to him and grabbed his arm. "That would get us killed, idiot! There's fire everywhere, what are brooms made of? And don't you think they're going to shoot down anyone who's flying? It's just bringing attention to yourself! Come on!"

The others had disappeared into the crowd of people. So they ran, trying to catch up with them, getting pushed aside by people who were more desperate than them, letting children by, stumbling and helping each other along. When Oliver let himself look back he saw that the Death Eaters were moving faster. Percy wrenched at his arm.

"Don't look back! It's just us, okay? Just us now!"

But Oliver didn't agree. So when he saw that a man had injured his leg and couldn't run, he went over to him.

He was an older man, wearing robes and a scarf in the Bulgarian team colours. His face was scrunched up with pain and he clutched his leg, rocking slightly. Blood was seeping through the material underneath his hands.

"Where's your wand?" Oliver asked him, loudly so that he could be heard over the din.

"I don't-" the man said tearfully. "It's broken! Please, are you going to help me? No one is helping me!"

Oliver knelt down, taking out his wand. Part of playing Quidditch was knowing how to fix up wounds. Madame Pomfrey had always been at the matches at school, but there were sometimes accidents at practice. "Take your hands away, please. Yes. I'll help you, but you need to-" he waved dismissively at Percy, who was pulling at him again, "-listen to what I'm saying."

The man took his hands away, hesitant in the way people were when they knew they were badly hurt. Oliver peeled the fabric of the robes away and made conversation. "What's your name?"

"Bertram. Aubrey."

"How did you hurt your leg?"

"I...fell." When Oliver looked up at him, he amended what he had said. "I was pushed. By someone I do not know. It was not deliberate."

Percy gave up trying to get Oliver to move and knelt down next to him. The robes were lifted from the wound to reveal a short, but deep cut, like Aubrey's leg had forcibly struck a piece of metal. It was bleeding a lot and not the sort of wound you got playing Quidditch. He might not be able to heal it properly. "Do you think the bone has been hurt?" he asked Percy quietly.

"Hard to tell. Use a spell on it anyway. And hurry up, would you?"

"Alright, I'm about to cast a few spells. Let me know if anything badly hurts," Oliver told Aubrey. Pointing his wand at the man's leg and placing small pressure on his knee to keep it in place, he cast, "Tibia Emendo!"

Aubrey cried out a little and Percy nodded. "So the bone was fractured. What are you going to use for the gash?"

"Episkey."

"No, that's ridiculous. Let me do it."

"Are you alright with him healing your leg, Bertram?" Oliver asked him and was privately relieved when the man nodded.

Percy drew his wand and took a deep breath. "Like this. Vulnera Sanentur! Vulnera Sanentur! It has to be cast three times, I should have told you. Vulnera Sanentur!"

The bleeding stopped and the wound closed over before their eyes. As his friend worked Oliver looked back to see that the fire was spreading. Ash was falling like snow across them and had settled on their clothes. The Death Eaters were distracted by something – a broom in the air, Oliver realised. He watched as its rider was struck with green light and fell terribly to the ground. He looked away.

"Now we just have to clean the skin. Tergus, isn't it?"

"Tergeo!" Oliver cast. "You should be better now. I'd get that checked with a healer later. We'll just help you stand..."

Aubrey was brought to his feet without any problems. He stretched his leg, noting that there was a little residual pain but nothing like before. He thanked them both repeatedly and tried to give them money, but Oliver wouldn't accept it and he couldn't find his pouch in his robes quickly enough. Instead he gave them the scarf he was wearing. "It was made by my wife," he said. "If she or I see you again we will repay you properly."

"Yes, yes, just run!" Percy said irritably. "Our lives are in danger here!"

So he ran, and they followed after him. Oliver stopped again to help up a witch that had fallen and then Percy went to free a child from a tent, "because you're not going to be anything but bloody self-sacrificing, are you?" Every time Oliver looked back the Death Eaters were closer, until he considered hiding them behind a tent that was still standing. They were some of the last people, with none of the crowds there had been earlier.

Becoming desperate, Oliver took Percy's hand. "RUN!" he shouted.

He probably rolled his eyes at that but they ran, together, as fast as they could until they were in the relative safety of the forest. Who knew when the fire would spread here, or if the Death Eaters would follow them in?

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Although the forest was where everyone had run to, there was no one there when Harry reached it. It was as if this small patch of it was under a Fidelius Charm. There weren't any footprints like there had been everywhere else. The crowd of people behind him went left or right, but not forward. Mr Weasley went left with Ginny, not seeing what Harry and his sons could. He didn't even look back at them, though Ginny did, confused but following her dad.

"I'm going to follow them. You know Dad," Fred said to George.

"Right, yeah. Take care."

Fred turned and ran after them. George watched him go and then came back to Harry and Ron.

"What do you think this is?" he asked.

"I don't know."

"If they can't see us here then we should be safe," Ron said as he walked around the space, snapping twigs underfoot.

"That's not how it works..." Harry couldn't help but feel suspicious. It went against everything he had been taught to stay somewhere that clearly had magic working on it, just because it seemed to be helpful magic, not when he didn't know the caster. If the spell had been cast for protection, why wasn't there anyone here? It could be a trap. It probably was.

He noticed that Ron was leaving footprints on what had been clear ground. Apparently George did as well, because he took out his wand and cast Confugeo, first on Ron's feet, then Harry's and his own. The footprints filled in with dirt as though they had never been made. The spell would stop them leaving a trail – no footprints, no broken twigs, no shadows, nothing torn. All it wouldn't hide was anything they left behind, whether they'd meant to or not. A very useful spell when you didn't want to get caught. Or in this case, found.

"Do you think we should go somewhere else?" asked George.

"It's a good place to hide. Even if someone else can see us here, there are trees we can stand behind." Ron did just that, sticking his head around it and grinning. "See? We can just stay here for a bit and then go home. We can even see the Death Eaters from here, we'll know exactly what they're doing."

"Ron..."

"Are we absolutely certain it's going to be safe where everyone else is? What if staying here saves our lives?"

There wasn't anything Harry could say to that. He looked to George, hoping he could point out what Harry felt that he was missing here.

"It's a good idea," George said, rubbing the toe of his shoe in the dirt and watching the mark disappear. "There's nothing wrong with this place, just that the others can't see it. If I had to guess I'd say it's only open to kids. That would explain why no one else is here – most of the kids going past are with their parents, who don't know that this is here. It doesn't...feel...wrong." Like Harry he looked reluctant to trust the magic, even if he couldn't find any reason not to.

"You're right." By which Harry meant 'it doesn't feel wrong' not 'it's a good idea to stay here', but Ron took it the wrong way.

"Great! Come on, then." He gestured for them to stand with him behind the tree. As they did Harry looked deep into the forest, seeing nothing that wasn't meant to be there, and out to the half-burned field of tents. It was almost empty now. There was no one to impress anymore, the Death Eaters should let the Muggles go.

George touched the tree and muttered to himself. "Quercus robur."

"What was that?"

He shook his head.

"Is that Percy?" Ron said disbelievingly. "How did he fall so far behind? And is he holding hands with Oliver? Actually, I always thought something was up with them, how else could Oliver stand to be around him as much as he was at school? Percy can be an absolute prat."

"Ron, I really don't think it matters." All that was important was that both of them were safe.

The pair ran straight past the hidden area, though Oliver glanced back with an odd expression on his face.

The longer they stood there, Harry felt there was something he was missing. Something about this space wasn't there, like, it should be but he couldn't see it. Something that he couldn't understand, no matter how hard he tried to. Something that George was also aware of and just as unsettled by.

"We should leave," he said to Harry's intense relief.

"What? Why?"

"We have to-"

A branch snapped, even though none of them had moved.

"What was that?" George said quietly, looking around.

"We have to leave."

"We can't."

Harry was getting angry now. "Ron, we have to leave!"

"We can't!" Ron whispered harshly and pointed at something.

A single Death Eater was walking towards the forest. One person in a mask, it shouldn't have been frightening but it was. It was too close for them to run out past it. They were sure to be seen.

George swore under his breath and all of them fell silent. The only thing they could do now was hide and hope that he had been right – adults couldn't see this part of the forest.

The Death Eater walked slowly towards them. Its robes swished around its feet. No part of its skin was showing. Harry couldn't know that it was even a person. It stepped closer and closer to where the footprints ended...

...and walked right into the hidden area, as if it had meant to come here all along. It stopped and its head moved minutely. Ron had gone very white. George's face didn't have even the trace of a smile. Harry felt sick, blaming himself for what he realised now had been incredibly stupid.

A minute passed, maybe less, maybe more. It was hard to tell. The Death Eater began to walk around, stepping slowly, stopping again when it was considerably closer. Its head tilted. Harry imagined that the person behind the mask was smiling. He wanted to shut his eyes but knew better than to do that.

George hit Ron lightly on the head, then he stepped out from the safety of the tree and cast, loudly, powerfully, surprisingly, "CONFRINGO!"

A rush of pain went through Harry's scar and everything went black.

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Notes - I finally got to use Confugeo! Way back when SolBird came up with a definition for that spell. It comes from the Latin words 'confundo' meaning 'confuse' and 'fuga' meaning 'flight'. When cast and directed at a person's feet, that person no longer leaves signs of their presence, like footprints, shadows, broken branches or anything like that. It won't stop people from seeing you, but it makes it much harder for them to know where you've gone. Presumably it lasts until the spell is lifted or the people affected by it have left the area. Aside from that all the spells are canonical.