- Rating:
- PG-13
- House:
- Schnoogle
- Ships:
- Ginny Weasley/Harry Potter Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
- Characters:
- Hermione Granger Ron Weasley
- Genres:
- Romance Action
- Era:
- Harry and Classmates During Book Seven
- Spoilers:
- Philosopher's Stone Chamber of Secrets Prizoner of Azkaban Goblet of Fire Order of the Phoenix Half-Blood Prince Deadly Hallows (Through Ch. 36) Epilogue to Deathly Hallows Quidditch Through the Ages Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them J.K. Rowling Interviews or Website
- Stats:
-
Published: 08/27/2007Updated: 03/27/2008Words: 181,707Chapters: 24Hits: 107,660
Hermione Granger and the Deathly Hallows
Ann Margaret
- Story Summary:
- The end of the series from our favorite herione's point of view--discover the millions of things that happened that not even the Boy Who Lived knew about! Follows Hermione Granger and the Order of the Phoenix and Half-Blood Prince.
Chapter 04 - Chapter Four
- Chapter Summary:
- Harry's rescue mission goes just a bit awry...
- Posted:
- 09/27/2007
- Hits:
- 4,771
"Ever rode on a thestral before, Hermione?"
Hermione crinkled her nose in response. Kingsley Shacklebolt gave a soft chuckle as he hooked his fingers together so he could give her a leg up. Blindly, Hermione groped her way onto the spine of the beast, stroking the sides of the thestral's flank as she waited for Kingsley to join her. He handed her the decoy owl's cage and went around to the front and rub his snout, talking quietly to the slightly skittish creature. Kingsley obviously could see the thestral. Hermione wondered if she too would be able to see them after they finished their mission. She could possibly see them after tonight.
As Kingsley returned to climb up himself, she turned to find Ron who was apprehensively wrapping his hands around Tonks' waist, casting furtive glances at Lupin. Hermione couldn't help remembering how eagerly Ron had seized Lavender whenever he had the chance; now he couldn't bear to touch a pretty girl. Granted, the pretty girl was married to his former teacher who was three yards away, but that was besides the point. Hermione then craned her neck to find the real Harry who had stuffed himself into the sidecar of Sirius' motorbike, looking miserable. She could hear Ron snigger even from here. She wasn't so certain Harry would want the motorbike after enduring a long trip in the sidecar. He may never want to see it again.
Hermione took a hold of Kingsley's robes as she steeled herself for what was to come. This was it. The mission she had been dreading for the past day and a half. Moody had said that a fight would be imminent; in a few seconds, she would be showing those Death Eaters that Mudbloods weren't so inferior after all.
After Hagrid kicked the motorbike to life, Moody shouted, "Good luck, everyone. See you all in about an hour at the Burrow. On the count of three. One...two...THREE."
Kingsley kicked the side of the thestral and the beast immediately flapped his wings and took flight. Hermione tried desperately to catch a glimpse of her best friends, but all she could see was the night sky and Kingsley's strong back. The damp clouds engulfed them, soaking her skin. Hermione forced herself not to look down, remembering what Ron's advice. If she looked down, she would just realize just high up she was and panic. Obviously, she knew how high in the air she was, but as long as she didn't look down, she could kid herself a little longer. She slipped out a wand, keeping a sharp eye out for the patrols Mad-Eye had predicted would be circling Harry's house. They could strike at any moment.
At least thirty hooded figures, suspended in midair, formed a vast circle in the midst of which the Order members had risen. Her stomach crashed back to earth. They definitely had not expected this many Death Eaters. That could only mean one thing; they had been compromised.
Hermione let out a scream as Kingsley yanked on the thestral's mane so they could continue to climb in the air, sailing over the Death Eaters' heads. "Go!" Kingsley spurned the beast, kicking the poor horse repeatedly in the ribs. The thestral yowled but flapped its wings harder than ever so they were soaring at top speed, faster than Hermione had ever flown before, but of course it wasn't enough. Hermione had to duck to avoid the masses of curses flinging towards them; she even had to shove Kingsley's head down a few time so he wouldn't be hit. He was doing the best he could to keep the Death Eaters at bay while steering the thestral at the same time, but it just wasn't enough.
Hermione was trying as well, but she was at such an awkward angle, sitting directly behind Kingsley, holding on to his robes to keep from falling. She couldn't see any of the attackers and had to aim blindly. It was enough to keep the Death Eaters from getting too close to them, but she knew that would only help them for so long. Hermione ducked again as another spell whizzed past their ears, much too close for comfort. She had to do something. Now.
But her mind was blank. She should have made a list of contingency plans for this mission as well as the Horcrux hunt. She had nothing. Hermione bit her lip hard as a spell hit the thestral who let out a moan. Its hide was stronger than human flesh so it could withstand a great deal more than wizards and witches, but it wouldn't last for much longer. He was already starting to slow down, despite Kingsley's shouts and kicks to the ribs. Think, she ordered herself, pushing her glasses more securely on her face. They kept sliding down the bridge of her nose.
And that's when it hit her. She wasn't Hermione Granger right now. She had to make them believe she was Harry Potter. And Harry Potter certainly would do something.
Boldly, Hermione stuck her wand between her teeth, seized a handful of Kingsley's robes to steady herself and swung one leg to the other side of the thestral so she was now riding sidesaddle. She made certain to never let go of the cage; Harry would never have allowed Hedwig to fall. She then moved her other leg over so she was now sitting back-to-back with Kingsley, giving her a clear view of the skies behind her. She returned her wand to her hand so she could start sending Stunning spell after Stunning spell towards their attackers. Now that she could finally see them, she could aim properly. "There's five of them," she reported over her shoulder.
Kingsley swore. "Hold on," he warned before pushing the thestral into a steep dive. Hermione lurched, nearly sliding off the thestral's back if Kingsley hadn't grabbed her backpack in time. They both ducked as a Killing Curse whizzed past their heads. Keeping a firm hold on Hermione, Kingsley twisted around to send three quick curses towards the nearest Death Eater. The last one nailed him in the chest, blasting him right off his broom, his hood flying off to reveal his face as he fell. One of his friends quickly dove to help him. Now there were only three.
A wayward spell must have nicked the thestral's tail, because there was suddenly a spark, a flash, and a burst of yellow flames in the night air. Hermione flattened herself onto the thestral's back so she could dump some water from her wand onto his tail. She blindly patted the thestral comfortingly as she pushed herself back up; he had given her an idea. Blinking nervously, as spells continue to fly at her, Hermione forced herself to stay very still so she could take very careful aim. Hermione sent her famous blue-flames towards the end of the broom of the nearest Death Eater. The straw exploded into flames; the Death Eater let out a yowl of horror and quickly turned to extinguish the flames with his wand, leaving his back vulnerable and exposed. Kingsley's curse sliced into the wizard and he too tumbled off of his broom and plummeted down into the night.
"Nice!" Kingsley praised, relieved that he only had two more to contend with. He spurned the thestral into another dive. She fell back into Kingsley's back and gritted her teeth. "Hold on--we're getting close!"
Hermione did her best to Stun the two Death Eaters still pursuing them so Kingsley could focus only on flying the thestral, but from the way they all kept veering and diving, there was no way she could get a clear shot. She glanced anxiously over her shoulder in hopes of seeing Kingsley's house looming in the distance. She wasn't sure how much longer she would last.
Someone was now flying directly towards them, chuckling manically, hands outstretched to collect his long-awaited prize. Hermione swung her wand towards him, but her blood froze when she noticed two very terrifying things: he was flying without the aid of a broom and his eyes were blood-red and glittering with absolutely hatred.
Hermione's arm dropped, her wand forgotten. "Kingsley!" Hermione shrieked, throat raw with horror. "It's him!"
Kingsley's eyes bugged, but he didn't hesitate. With a strength beyond his means, he yanked Hermione forward so she was now sitting in front of him, his tall frame protectively shielding her from any possible harm. "Hold on!" he bellowed before yanking on the poor thestral's mane so they climbed up, up, up, straining to put as much distance between them and the most evil wizard of their time, because they knew if he caught up, there was very little they could do.
"How good are you at Apparating?" Kingsley asked in her ear. He sent five blind curses over his shoulder.
"I can do it," Hermione said as she struggled to find a way to keep shooting spells, but Kingsley had surrounded her completely.
Kingsley, who had been veering back and forth at random times, suddenly plummeted towards the earth, eyes straining for the ideal location. "Okay," he gritted his teeth. He never stopped sending curses. "Hermione, this is what we're going to do. You're going to jump off the thestral."
"What?"
"--and Apparate in mid-air," Kingsley continued firmly. "It's difficult, but I think you can do it. Go to the Burrow, the same spot you Apparated to when you first came."
"No!"
"Her--"
"Harry would never leave!" Hermione hissed.
There was no time to argue. A Death Eater suddenly streaked to the side of them and Kingsley lashed out his foot to kick him off-course. Another Death Eater approached from the other side and Hermione leaned against the thestral's neck so she could keep him at bay. They were both so intent on what was happening on either side of them that they almost completely missed the figure that appeared directly in front of them, arms stretched out wide, robes billowing in the wind. The thestral reared and whinnied in terror; Hermione had to seize him around the neck to keep from falling off. Voldemort cocked his head triumphantly to the side to peer at Hermione's face. Her heart turned to icy mush. Hermione quickly snapped her eyes shut, shuddering violently. His eyes really could burn right through her. A sudden idea struck her and Hermione feigned agony, clapping her wand hand against her forehead. Harry couldn't get this close to Voldemort without his scar hurting.
Kingsley dove again before Voldemort could attack. The thestral's ribs were heaving in exhaustion; he was tiring fast. Kingsley and Hermione sent a flurry of spells towards Voldemort, but he blocked them all with one wave of his hand. He didn't even need his wand. A Killing Curse went straight for Kingsley's head with no hopes of stopping it, so Hermione impulsively swung the decoy cage up to block it. The cage exploded with green light, the bars twisting sickeningly as the stuffed owl burst into flame. Kingsley snatched the cage from her and hurled it at a Death Eater who was closing in behind them. Blood spurted from the Death Eater's face, but he managed to cling on to his broom and continue the chase.
Hermione had frozen again, her eyes on Voldemort. He was staring at her again, but this time he looked anything but triumphant. She knew he was thinking about the broken bird cage crumbling to the ground. Both of them, who knew Harry all too well, knew that he would never ever have used his beloved pet as a weapon.
Two Killing Curses were streaking towards them. Kingsley ducked and pulled Hermione down with him, who was still too terrified to move. "He knows," she warned Kingsley frantically.
There was no time to ask how she knew that. Voldemort had flashed his wand to emit a gigantic whirlwind of flames to erupt towards them. The thestral reared again, but this time to take the brunt of the attack onto its exposed underbelly, whinnying in horror but stubbornly keeping itself completely vertical to protect its riders. A flurry of voice surrounded them, jeering and laughing, shouting in triumph. Hermione wrapped her arms around the horse's neck again while Kingsley seized her waist to keep from sliding off. For an awful moment, Hermione thought they were going to tip backwards and plunge down into nothingness, but with a wheeze, the thestral fell forward, its wings flapping more furiously than ever. Voldemort was gone.
Hermione whipped around in all directions, her glasses very nearly flying off in the process. There were only the same three Death Eaters, still tirelessly pursuing them. She was shaking so badly that she could barely hold on to the thestral's tangled mane. "Where is he?" she gasped out. "Where is he?"
"I don't know--something must have happened while we were--" Kingsley shouted to her between curses. "It doesn't matter," he said impatiently. "We have to get to the safe-house--we're almost there. You fly him--I'll hold them off!" He squeezed the thestral's body with his knees as Hermione took a tighter grip on its mane. "GO!"
The thestral soared off into the night.
**
"Down there, down there!" Kingsley pointed to the small house, hidden in the depths of a thick forest. Hermione pushed down on the exhausted thestral and he gratefully dropped to the earth. Hermione braced herself for the rough impact, but she still tumbled over the head of the thestral as his weak legs crashed into the ground, promptly gave out, and splayed out from underneath him. She landed flat on her stomach, winded, but Kingsley yanked her up before she could catch her breath. His fingers smashed down around her shoulder. "Get in, get in," Kingsley ordered as he pushed her towards the front door of the house.
Hermione tried to twist free and look over her shoulder although she knew she couldn't possibly see their savoir. "Is he all right?" Hermione asked breathlessly.
"He's fine," Kingsley lied tightly. He twirled his wand towards the door; it unlocked with a click. Kingsley pushed Hermione inside, his arm protectively raised to keep her from pushing past him. After making a clean sweep of his home, Kingsley gestured for her to follow him into a small, cozy kitchen. He pointed authoritatively toward the nearest chair as he strode to the window and flicked past the curtain so he could take another look out the backyard. Only when he was absolutely certain that they were alone did he finally pocket his wand and mop his forehead with his handkerchief. They were safe.
Hermione gazed down at her trembling hands and wondered if she'd ever stop shaking. Her legs ached from the long ride on the thestral and she was sure she had a smattering of cuts, bruises, and spell nicks, but she was alive. She had seen Lord Voldemort himself and survived. Not many people could say that. Or other magical creatures, for that matter. Hermione swallowed, her mouth very dry. "He's dead, isn't he?"
Kingsley nodded soberly. They both knew they would be very lucky if their thestral was the only casualty in this mission. Dropping his tough Auror act, Kingsley knelt down in front of her and took a hold of her shoulders so he could look her up and down. "Are you hurt?" he asked kindly. Hermione shook her head, actually missing the way her curls swung whenever she moved her head. She couldn't wait to turn back into her normal self. "Are you sure? Nothing at all?" Kingsley pressed. Hermione nodded vigorously. As if he didn't believe her, Kingsley took her left hand and inspected the palm carefully before doing the same with her other hand. Only when he was finally convinced that she was completely unharmed did he finally release her with a smile. "You were wonderful. I'd kiss you if you still didn't look like Potter."
Hermione couldn't help coloring slightly as Kingsley rounded the table to open a cabinet. "And if your boyfriend wouldn't kill me," he added wryly.
"Ron's not my--"
"Yet," Kingsley finished for her. He pulled out a very familiar jar and opened it gingerly. Hermione wrinkled her nose at the medicinal scent of the salve wafted across the room. "Why do you need that?" she inquired as she nodded at the Oblivious Unction and crossed the room to him. Ron had smelled of the stuff for weeks after the Ministry incident. "Are you hurt?"
"Just a burn." He showed her the palm of his hand which was sweltering with blisters and steaming slightly. Hermione's stomach turned over at the sight of it, but she nevertheless offered to apply the solution for him. Kingsley gratefully accepted. "It's from the bird cage," he explained as Hermione slathered the unction onto his palm. "I was worried it burned you too--even if it doesn't hit you directly, the Killing Curse can have some nasty consequences." He nodded to some gauze on the middle shelf of the open cabinet. "Wrap it for me, if you please."
Hermione retrieved the gauze and wrapped it around Kingsley's hand. "What do you think happened to the others?" she asked in a low voice, terrified to hear the answer.
Kingsley sighed wearily. "Probably the same as us. They were at least thirty of them and if we only had five--" He pinched his nose with his good hand. "I never thought they'd be so many." Hermione returned the supplies to their proper place so she could swallow her sudden tears. "But we're all well-trained," Kingsley said bracingly, sensing her trepidation. "Voldemort's always gone for quantity, not quality. Moody's the best we got and Tonks was trained by him, so she's just as good. Arthur and Bill are bang-up fliers and Lupin's almost as smart as you and Hagrid would do anything to save Potter--"
"That's what I'm afraid of," Hermione admitted. All of them would do anything to save Harry, but at the same time, they weren't going to be able to help Harry if they were all dead. She glanced at her watch, aching to get back to the Burrow and discover what had happened. "It's almost time, isn't it?"
"Yes." Kingsley returned his uninjured hand to her shoulder to steer her into the living room. There was a bent coat hanger on the coffee table; Kingsley gestured for her to take a hold of it. She did and after a few impatient seconds, the familiar invisible hook yanked her unceremoniously away from Kingsley's living room and deposited her onto the sweet-smelling earth of the Burrow. She scrambled to her feet to find that two people were rushing towards them; one of them happened to be one of her best friends in the entire world.
Hermione flung herself into Harry's arms, her curls swinging in her face; thank goodness she was back to normal. He caught her easily, trembling along with her as he hugged her back. He'd never admit it, but he was just as scared as she was. She closed her eyes and tried to breathe normally. Harry was safe. Somehow all of this was worth it if Harry arrived here safely. She stepped away to find Kingsley returning his wand beneath his cloak, having just checked Remus' identity. He was scowling with rage, no longer the kind-hearted man who had tried to comfort her in a cozy kitchen. "But somebody betrayed us! They knew, they knew it was tonight!"
"So it seems," replied Lupin in his calm way, "but apparently they did not realize that there would be seven Harrys."
"Small comfort!" snarled Kingsley. "Who else is back?"
"Only Harry, Hagrid, George, and me."
Hermione's hand clapped over her mouth to stifle her little moan. She barely heard Kingsley explain to Lupin what had happened to them. Ron wasn't back. She should have realized--if he was here, he would have been waiting for her to arrive and been the first to hold her. He wasn't here. Something had happened. And so many others weren't back either: Mr. Weasley, Fred, Tonks, Bill, Fleur, Mad-Eye, even squirmy Mundungus were all in danger. They all could have been killed.
Hermione really wished there was a chair she could fall into, but instead she forced herself to join in the conversation about Stan Shunpike. She was jarred out of her daze when she heard about poor George's ear being sliced off by Snape, but when Harry left to help Hagrid, all of those dizzying worries came swarming back. She let them consume her as Kingsley began to pace back and forth across the length of the yard, his eyes on the skies, poised to spring into action at a second's notice. Lupin stayed still as he too stared at the stars in an unusually grim manner. Hermione stood beside him, feeling a special kinship to him at this moment. His wife was missing and her--well, she didn't know exactly what term accurately described her and Ron--but it was the same. Hermione swallowed hard as the perfect word came to her. She hugged herself as tightly as she could to ward off the sudden chill that had nothing to do with the balmy summer night. Her everything was lost in the night.
"Yeh all right there, Hermione?" Hagrid asked as he lumbered beside her.
"I'm all right," Hermione assured tightly. Her eyes never left the stars.
"Yeh cold?" Hagrid observed. "Yeh want to get a jumper or something?"
"I'm not leaving," Hermione said flatly.
"Yeh sure?"
"I'm not leaving!" Hermione exploded needlessly. She knew Hagrid was only trying to help, but she would be damned if anyone tried to drag her away from this spot. She wasn't moving from this precise spot until Ron came home.
Hagrid looked momentarily appalled, but he soon understood and just stood silently beside her. Lupin patted Hermione once on the shoulder so she knew that he was right there with her, feeling the exact same way. The three of them returned their attention to the skies, holding their breath as they waited for anything that could signal an Order member's safe return. Harry and Ginny, hand in hand, soon joined them. No one said a word.
And finally, mercifully, a broom materialized directly above them and streaked toward the ground. The moment Hermione saw his red hair, she was running towards them with Harry right beside her. "It's them!" screamed Hermione.
Lupin somehow got in front of her so Tonks could stagger off the broom straight into his arms. Ron tripped dazedly towards Hermione and Harry, a flash of relieved smile crossing his pale face. "You're okay," he mumbled, but that's all he could get out. Hermione had already flown at him and hugged him so tightly that she was in danger of squeezing all of the oxygen right out of him.
"I thought--I thought--" Hermione couldn't go any further. She never even wanted to think the rest of that sentence, let alone say the words aloud. She hugged him even tighter.
Ron returned it as he patted her on the back. "'M all right," he said quietly. "'M fine."
Hermione couldn't believe it. He couldn't have been gone that long and scared her so much without sustaining some sort of injury. Ron was probably hiding something; that was just the way he was. He would say he was fine so he and Tonks could return to the Burrow more quickly. She wanted to release him so she could discover what he was hiding, but she couldn't seem to let him go. She just wanted to stay here forever.
"Ron was great," said Tonks warmly. "Wonderful. Stunned one of the Death Eaters, straight to he head, and when you're aiming at a moving target from a flying broom--"
"You did?" said Hermione, gazing up at Ron with her arms still around his neck. She always knew that he was brilliant.
She tried to return to their embrace, not quite ready to let go, but Ron broke free with a disgruntled look on his face. "Always the tone of surprise," he said a little grumpily. "Are we the last back?"
Not quite sure what caused Ron's sudden change of attitude, Hermione stepped to the side and listened as Tonks, Kingsley, and Harry exchanged stories about what had happened to each of them although no one was really listening. They were all still thinking about the two pairs that still hadn't returned. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley came out to greet Ron and Hermione returned her attention to the sky, arms wrapped back around her. They had to come back. They just had to.
She let out a cry that mingled with a few others as a thestral soared into sight and landed a few feet from them. Bill and Fleur slid from its back, windswept but unhurt. "Bill! Thank God, thank God--" Mrs. Weasley ran forward to embrace her eldest son, but Hermione found herself holding her breath apprehensively. Bill was looking at his father, wearing that look that Ron wore when he had to tell her that Harry attacked Malfoy in the bathroom and nearly killed him. Something horrible had happened and she had an awful suspicion what it was.
"Mad-Eye's dead."
Hermione expected the tears to spring to her eyes, but nothing came. Although she knew something was coming, she was too startled to breathe, let alone cry. Mad-Eye was dead--Mad-Eye was dead. Hermione could hardly believe it. He was their leader, the wizard who was so careful and vigilant that he never let anything slip past him. He had made one mistake, let his guard down for one second, and promptly been slaughtered. That's all it took. One second of weakness could kill you.
Bill was explaining how it happened, but it hardly mattered. Mad-Eye didn't deserve to be dead. He should be standing with them right now, gruffly trying to determine with the rest of them what had went wrong. That's where he deserved to be. He didn't deserve to be lying on the ground somewhere, limbs splattered out, bones broken, blood spilling, eyes wide open in horror--Hermione blinked as Ron lightly tapped her on the arm to get her moving; everyone was going inside. There was no need to stay out here any longer.
She followed them into the living room, swallowing more tears when she saw the clean but gaping wound in the side of George's head. George however was awake and alert as ever, so Hermione knew that he would make it. She went to stand in a unassuming corner, but Ron pulled on her arm to guide her back to the chair he was offering to her. Hermione dropped down into it, grateful but surprised. She couldn't remember Ron ever pulling out a chair for her. He held the door open for her occasionally, but his bounds of his chivalry ended there. Ron leaned against the wall directly beside her, catching the glass of firewhisky floating towards them. Hermione shakily took hers and held it aloft, scarcely believing that they were actually about to toast Mad-Eye's death. It seemed to make it even more horribly final.
"Mad-Eye."
"Mad-Eye."
"Mad-Eye."
Hermione could only manage a small gulp of the burning firewhisky; it was like drinking liquid fire. She supposed that was why it was called firewhisky. Hermione set her glass down with a shake of her head. This was hardly the time to be thinking about the origins of the term 'firewhisky.'
Ron knelt down to take her glass and shook it invitingly at her, eyes never leaving the conversation. She shook her head and with a shrug Ron drained the contents. He had already finished his. Hermione thought about chiding him, but when she saw that the color had finally returned to his face, she kept silent. Perhaps she should have drank a bit more herself.
They were now discussing just how the security breach could have occurred. Bill was defending Mundungus, but Hermione wasn't so sure he should. Mundungus seemed like the obvious choice; she couldn't imagine anyone else in the room betraying them to Voldemort. Of course, one of them could have been Confounded or placed under Imperius, but there would be warning signs. No one had been acting out of the ordinary. It had to be Mundungus; that was the obvious solution. Hermione leaned her head back against the chair with a sigh. From her experience with Harry, it was never the obvious solution.
"No," Harry said aloud, his voice ringing louder than normal. He looked embarrassed, as always, to have the attention of the entire room swing over to him. His face was unnaturally flushed. "I mean...if someone made a mistake and let something slip, I know they didn't mean to do it. It's not their fault. We've got to trust each other. I trust all of you, I don't think anyone in this room would ever sell me to Voldemort."
Looking as though he wished he could sink into the floor and disappear, Harry took another gulp of firewhisky. Hermione smiled rather tenderly at him. Harry really was such a wonderful person; she was lucky to have him for a friend.
Ron dropped down abruptly on the arm of her chair, his elbow bouncing accidentally against her arm. He had another unreadable look on his face as Fred called out, "Well said, Harry."
"Yeah, 'ear, 'ear," said George, with half glance at Fred, the corner of whose mouth twitched.
Ron wasn't the only one watching Harry with an odd expression. Harry faced Lupin somewhat challengingly. "You think I'm a fool?"
"No, I think you're like James," said Lupin, "who would have regarded it as the height of dishonor to mistrust his friends." Harry opened his mouth as if to argue, but Lupin had turned away from him, set down his glass upon a side table, and addressed Bill, "there's work to do. I can ask Kingsley whether--"
"No," said Bill at once, "I'll do it, I'll come."
"Where are you going?" said Tonks and Fleur together, stricken.
"Mad-Eye's body," said Lupin. "We need to recover it."
The image of Mad-Eyes twisted, ruined body flashed in Hermione's mind again. She pressed her lips together and turned away, expecting to cry, but there were still no tears. The firewhisky must have burned them all away.
Lupin and Bill said good-bye and left. The others started to find a seat to drop onto, exhausted. Hermione let her head fall against Ron's arm and closed her eyes. She really wished she could fall asleep just like this.
"I've got to go too."
That woke her right up. Hermione lifted her head and opened her eyes so she could stare at Harry, anything but surprised. She and Ron had just been discussing how Harry would try to go off by himself; she just didn't expect him to leave so soon.
"Don't be silly, Harry," said Mrs. Weasley. "What are you talking about?"
"I can't stay here." Harry rubbed his forehead. He was rapidly losing color from his cheeks again. Hermione lightly touched Ron's leg and he nodded once to confirm that he saw it too. They knew the warning signs all too well; Harry's scar was bothering him again. "You're all in danger while I'm here. I don't want--"
"But don't be so silly!" said Mrs. Weasley. "The whole point of tonight was to get you here safely, and thank goodness it worked. And Fleur's agreed to get married here rather than in France, we've arranged everything so that we can all stay together and look after you--"
"If Voldemort finds out I'm here--"
"But why should he?"
"There are a dozen places you might be now, Harry. He's got no way of knowing which safe house you're in."
"It's not me I'm worried for!"
"We know that, but it would make our efforts tonight seem rather pointless if you left."
"Yer not goin' anywhere. Blimey, Harry, after all we wen' through ter get you here?"
"Yeah, what about my bleeding ear?"
"I know that--"
"Mad-Eye wouldn't want--"
"I KNOW!" Harry bellowed, silencing the impending row. Hermione, Ron, and Ginny all shared a look; they had all known better than to intercede right now. Harry could never be pushed. Putting guilt trips, reminding him about George's ear and Moody's death, wasn't going to convince him to stay. He needed time to settle down and see that for himself. Hermione could see that he was still worked up from the heat of the battle; he was still very visibly trembling and was quite pale. They needed to give him a little space so he could breathe and discover that the best thing to do right now was to stay, at least for the night. He'd probably try to convince them that he should leave in the morning, but they could cross that bridge when they came to it.
Sensing that there was a need for a change in subject, Mrs. Weasley asked coaxingly, "Where's Hedwig, Harry? We can put her up with Pigwidgeon and give her something to eat."
Hagrid frantically shook his head at Molly. Harry tensely gulped down the rest of his firewhisky. Hermione's hand flew up to cover her mouth and she could hear Ron groan under his breath. Ginny bowed her head in grief as Mrs. Weasley paled and faltered back into silence. They hadn't realized that they had lost another member of their family.
"Wait till it gets out yeh did it again, Harry," said Hagrid loudly so Harry couldn't lose himself in thoughts about his lost pet. "Escaped from him, fought him off when he was right on top of yeh!"
Hermione's eyes almost popped out of her head. She hadn't realized that Harry had been that close to Voldemort. No wonder his scar was still killing him.
"It wasn't me," said Harry flatly. "It was my wand. My wand acted of its own accord."
Hermione glanced at Ron who shrugged in confusion. Even Harry wasn't modest enough to believe that his wand was responsible from his own escape. "But that's impossible, Harry," she said gently. "You mean that you did magic without meaning to; you reacted instinctively." It was classic Harry; he always never understood how it was a remarkable feat to have such amazing instincts. No one intrinsically knew how to deal with Dark Arts like Harry did.
"No," said Harry. "The bike was falling, I couldn't have told you where Voldemort was, but my wand spun in my hand and found him and shot a spell at him, and it wasn't even a spell I recognized. I've never made gold flames appear before."
Hermione hadn't quite heard of a spell like that either. She sat back with confusion and let Mr. Weasley take over. "Often," said Mr. Weasley, "when you're in a pressured situation you can produce magic you never dreamed of. Small children often find, before they're trained--"
"It wasn't like that," said Harry through gritted teeth, looking inexplicably angry. Everyone lapsed into silence again, unsure what to do or say to comfort him. Hermione wasn't so sure they could right now. With a wince, Harry muttered something about fresh air, set down his glass, and left the room.
Mrs. Weasley started to bustle after him, but Mr. Weasley caught her arm. "Molly, leave him."
"But he can't be outside alone--"
"Leave him," Ginny insisted harshly as she crossed to take a seat on the sofa next to George. She pressed her lips together and didn't say another word.
Ron was already climbing to his feet. "We've got it," he reassured the room. Hermione followed him into the kitchen, casting a sympathetic glance at Ginny who remained pale and silent on the couch. She could tell that Ginny wanted nothing more than to charge out the back door so she could grab Harry's hand again and convince him that everything would be all right somehow. But Ginny knew that she couldn't; she was no longer included in their inner circle. So she remained at George's side, hid her tears, and busied herself in caring for someone she was allowed to help.
Ron came to a halt at the back door and peeked out the window. "He's just walking," he reported. "Looks like he's going to see the thestral."
"Should we go after him?" Hermione asked.
"No," Ron opted knowingly. "Ginny's right; he needs a minute. We'll go if it looks like he's really going to leave." He stayed at the window, but he glanced over at Hermione as if he couldn't believe she was really there. "Tonks said You-Know-Who switched to Kingsley," Ron said. She nodded grimly. "So you saw him?"
Voldemort's face in every horrifying detail popped up in her mind. She immediately starting to shake again; she took a hold of the counter in hopes of concealing the trembling. "I did."
He let the curtain fall so he could step closer to her. "What'd he look like?" Ron breathed as though Voldemort could somehow hear them.
"Just like Harry described," Hermione said. "But nothing like Harry described. I don't think words can describe him--and he was flying, he could actually fly, I don't think any Dark wizard in history has been able to do that. And his eyes--" As she predicted, word failed her and she just broke out into a dry sob. That was the only accurate way to describe what those eyes had done to her. She was going to be dreaming about them tonight, she was certain of it.
"Hey." Ron peered worriedly at her pale face, forgetting all about that tone of surprise in her voice. "You sure he didn't hurt you?"
Hermione nodded again. "Kingsley was amazing."
"Yeah." Ron gave her that look of his, the look he had given her last summer, when he had vowed to her that nothing would ever harm her as long as he was around. "You won't see him again," he swore in a low, perfect voice.
But they knew very well that he may not be able to keep this promise. Hermione could only hope if and when she saw Voldemort again, Ron would be right there with her. If she had to die, she wanted Ron there to hold her hand one last time. In dire need for a change in subject, Hermione flicked her hair out of her eyes and tried a smile. "I had to steer the thestral," she told him.
Ron smiled for the first time all night. "Did you?"
"I did," Hermione returned. Her skin tingled with sweet remembrance. "It was a good thing we went flying last night."
"We didn't fly on a thestral," Ron disagreed although he looked quite pleased with himself.
"Still, I hadn't flown since January." They both avoided eye contact at the mention of their Lavender-row and pushed past it. "It was good to have a bit of practice."
Ron met her eyes. "Yeah?"
Hermione imagined the feel of Ron's arms around her again as he coached her how to steer the broom properly, taking care to keep low so no one would know that they were out there. Voldemort's hate-filled eyes had vanished from her memory. She nodded emphatically. "Yeah."
She thought about adding that maybe they should do it again some time in the near future, but with pink ears, Ron glanced out the window again and stiffened. "Son of a bitch," he swore while charging towards the door. "He's at the gate."
As always, the couple pushed past the tender moment and raced out into the night so they could bring Harry home.
The following sections were not of my invention: Dialogue with Harry, Kingsley, and Lupin after the return to the Burrow: Rowling, J.K. Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. Scholastic. New York: 2007. Chapter Five: Fallen Warrior. p. 73-74. Dialogue with Harry, Ron, the Weasleys, and the Order after Ron and Tonks’ return, up to Harry’s exit: Rowling, J.K. Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. Scholastic. New York: 2007. Chapter Five: Fallen Warrior. p. 76-83. Thanks for reading! More to come soon!