The article detailing the attack on the farming enclave was released that evening, just as Robards predicted, and it shook the wizarding world to its core. They had only just rid themselves of Voldemort and already they were dealing with a new threat. Only this threat had always been there, surrounding them, outnumbering them one to one hundred million. They'd lulled themselves into believing that they were protected from this threat, their wards were supposed to keep them safe, but they were falling and people had died because of it.
But if the Daily Prophet article had been bad, the Quibbler was worse because they had predicted this, they had said that Harry and the Hallows would be the end of them, and it would start with their magic failing. But no one had listened, or at least not enough people had listened, assuming Xenophilius was back to his usual mad ravings now that the war had passed. Xenophilius had nothing new to say, he had poured every bit of proof into his last article, so he reprinted it, and this time, people listened.
"I think maybe we should leave," Ron suggested the night the article was rereleased. "The three of us and all of our family. Just until November when we can get this all sorted out."
Hermione looked up from her reading to fix Ron with a contemplative frown. "You want to leave? And go where?"
Ron shrugged. "Somewhere far from here. Far from muggles. If the wards around this place falls, people will notice, there's never been a Number Thirteen and they know it. Same goes for the Burrow. And even if the muggles don't get us, the wizarding world certainly will. If any more wizards are attacked, and I have a feeling they will be, people will really start listening to Lovegood, they'll want to bring Harry in and they'll come for my family to find him. That's a lot of enemies, our best bet would be to, ah…tactically retreat."
"Where?" Hermione repeated.
"I have a few properties," Harry spoke up. "The Potters have a home somewhere in Scotland, far from both wizards and muggles. Its location has always been a pretty big secret, I don't think even the Ministry knows where it is."
"Your parents are muggles, Hermione, so they'd be all right if they decided they didn't want to move again. My family might be a bit harder to convince, Dad's got work, Ginny has school in the fall, Bill has the cottage, but I think they'll come around once things start getting worse."
"If," Hermione corrected firmly. "Things only might get worse. The Prophet said that Kingsley has already been working with the muggle Prime Minister to address this issue and make sure it never happens again. It seems as if he has everything well in hand."Things were not well in hand. Three days after their imprisonment, only hours before their memory was to be wiped and they were to be set free, the twelve muggles who had survived the massacre were found dead in their cells. They showed no sign of poisoning nor did any of them have any sort of injuries, which led those who were investigating the deaths to believe that they had each found themselves to the recipient of a killing curse.
The muggle prime minister was furious, he had upheld his end of the bargain, he'd pinned the slew of deaths in the countryside on a fanatic cult and he had sent his first shipment of perishable goods to all the right people only just that morning. And all he had asked in return was the safe return of his men. He demanded answers, he wanted to see those responsible punished, but Kingsley had nothing to offer him, he too had been blindsided by the murders. And so, until he could provide the prime minister with some proof that the situation was being handled, their deal was off.
In the wake of this newest complication, it took no effort at all to persuade Ron's family to take some time off of work to spend a few months away from the wizarding world. They were just as eager to be away from the growing danger in their world as Harry, Ron, and Hermione were, even if it meant putting their careers on hold. Mrs. Weasley was especially pleased with the idea, she loved the Burrow, nowhere else could be home, but it held so many painful memories, it would do her and her family well to get away for a while.
The morning of their departure, everyone gathered in the Burrow to ensure last minute details were in order and to share one more meal around the well-worn table for what was sure to be a long while. It was loud and hectic, but there was a palpable air of excitement throughout the entire house. Their reason for leaving to the country certainly wasn't the greatest; fleeing ones homes to escape the angry mob sure to descend upon them at any given time would leave a bitter taste in anyone's mouth, but their place of refuge was to be one of the Potter family's more resplendent manors located in the secluded highlands. With all of the amenities the manor was sure to boast, they would be hard pressed not to view their temporary stay as a vacation of sorts. One that they had most certainly earned.
"Good morning, Harry." Mrs. Weasley reached out to run a gentle hand across his cheek when Harry entered the kitchen she'd been working away in and leaned against the counter beside her. "Decide to take a break from the madness?"
"I don't want to be in the way of Fleur and Ron and they're numerous trunks. I don't have much so it didn't take long to give it one last check. Do you need any help in here?"
"I've just about finished actually. But if you don't mind, could you go and find Ginny for me? Knowing that girl she's probably still asleep."
Ginny's room was only one floor up from the ground level, but the tossing about of trunks and bickering voices couldn't be heard once he climbed the staircase. No doubt through the use of a handy charm. In the ensuing quiet, Harry could hear the absolute silence coming from Ginny's room and could only find himself agreeing with Mr. Weasleys assumption, in all the years he'd known her, he'd come to know that Ginny was a late riser.
"Hey, Gin. Your mum's got breakfast that'll be gone quicker than you can breathe if you don't hurry and grab some now."
With his head leaning against the wall, ear fairly close to the space between the frame and door, Harry was just able to catch the creak of a dried out throat attempting to speak.
"Ginny? Are you awake?"
There was nothing this time, the noise, faint as it had been before, had now fallen completely silent.
"I'm coming in, okay?"
The first thing Harry noted when he entered Ginny's room, was that it was stiflingly hot. Both the windows and the door had been shut, preventing the proper circulation of air and trapping the body heat Ginny was letting off. And she was letting it off in waves. Her thick comforter had been thrown to the floor, discarded in a sad little heap at the foot of her bed, while she remained tangled in her sheets, the thin fabric of which clung to her sweat soaked skin. At first glance she looked asleep, but when Harry approached and crouched beside her bed, a thin line of white between her barely open eyelids became visible.
"Gin?"
And there was the noise again, a pitiful groan of exhaustion and discomfort, forcing its way from Ginny's chest.
"Merlin, you're burning. But you were fine last night." Harry gently tucked a strand of red hair behind his friend's ear, the only form of comfort he could relay in that moment. "All right, I'm going to get your mum, she should have something in her potions cabinet to help."
Ginny murmured something he couldn't understand, but the trembling hands she brought up to weakly pat at his own conveyed her thanks just as well.
"Did you manage to rouse the beast, for me?" Mrs. Weasley smiled when Harry came bounding down the stairs.
He shook his head, a concerned frowned taking over his face. "I couldn't get her out of bed, she's sick, I think. Running a high fever."
Mrs. Weasley set aside the pot she'd been transferring to the table, her brow furrowed in concern. "A fever? How can you tell?"
"I could feel it, once I walked into her room."
"Oh dear, she must have caught something from Diagon yesterday. I told her that little sandwich shop she likes is just no good. Let me gather a few things."