A Thousand Words

Chapter 10: Home

When Hermione reappeared in her attic bedroom in the Burrow, night had descended. A few stars and a sliver of the moon were scattered sparsely across the pitch black sky, but other than that, there was nothing but utter darkness.

The moment Hermione's feet touched the floor of her room, she threw the Cloak off her and hurried out the door. On her way, she grabbed a folded note Mrs Weasley had left on her bedside table. As she descended the crooked steps, praying with everything she had that none of the family members besides Ginny had noticed her absence, she scanned the few short sentences scrawled on it with a deepening frown.

As it turned out, Hermione's absence had indeed remained undiscovered, and Ginny had thankfully not alerted anyone of it. Everyone was gathered in the sitting room, chatting happily over mugs of hot chocolate and butterbeer. Hermione stood at the foot of the staircase for a moment, fighting to dull the pang of jealousy that struck from watching the warm, cosy scene before her. Apparently, her friends had thought it appropriate to carry on without her.

After a while, Hermione shook her head and fiercely reminded herself that they were probably under the impression that she was busy working and wasn't in the mood to be interrupted. Forcing a smile onto her face, she stepped into the room and said brightly, 'Hi, everyone.'

The chatter died down as everyone turned to look at Hermione in unison. Ron was the first to stand up, walk over, and hug her.

'Hey, Hermione,' he said, smiling and tugging a few loose strands of her hair playfully. 'We thought you were busy, so we didn't invite you down here.'

There you have it, said a reassuring voice in Hermione's mind as she smiled and hugged Ron back. They have no reason to not want you here.

All of her doubts evaporated as Hermione settled down between Harry and Ron on one of the more battered Weasley sofas. Everyone seemed genuinely glad that she had finally joined them as the conversation picked up again. The Weasley twins began narrating one of their more frivolous experiences with a customer while their mother listened with a scandalised expression on her face, and Ron, Harry, and Ginny started discussing the murder of Edna Malkin.

'We were just talking about how the Dark Mark could have been a fake,' Ginny explained to Hermione.

'Oh...do you really think that?' said Hermione, hoping she didn't sound as distant as she felt. In the back of her mind, she was still thinking about her conversation with Shadow.

'I don't,' interjected Ron with a frown. 'As I told Kingsley, there are still plenty of Death Eaters on the loose...any of them could've easily done it.'

'But what are the odds that they're going to come out of hiding to murder the owner of a apparel shop?' Harry pointed out. 'I talked to Malfoy about their situation a while back; he told me that they're trying their best to avoid the rest of the wizarding world. I doubt they'd risk exposure for something as trite as this.'

'Agreed,' said Ginny. She was comfortably snuggled up next to Harry in a position Hermione and Ron had never quite been able to pull off without some degree of embarrassment. 'There are loads of criminals out there who'd do it as some sick form of entertainment.'

'She could've had something they wanted,' Ron argued. His eyes suddenly lit up as if he had been struck with a sudden inspiration. 'Hey, I reckon they're searching for a new leader! Maybe Malkin knew something about where they could find one.'

'It's a possibility,' Harry agreed, but he still looked doubtful. He turned to Hermione. 'What do you think, Hermione?'

'I'm not really sure,' said Hermione, slightly disconcerted that she had been brought so abruptly into their dispute. 'The letter Mrs Weasley left on my bedside table while I was out was from Dawlish, though; I'm supposed to go investigate the scene of her murder tomorrow morning now. I'll definitely let you guys know what I find out.'

'I heard a few of the Hit Wizards were assigned to the scene investigation too,' said Ginny in a low voice.

'Really?' said Hermione, surprised. 'I thought they only took care of the capture of criminals.'

'Most of them do,' Harry explained, 'but there are a handful of them who help handle murders and other crimes involving dark wizards by either standing guard in case the perpetrator returns or helping the Aurors in charge gather evidence and such.' He paused, then added, 'Malfoy's one of those.'

'Malfoy?' exclaimed Ron indignantly. 'He's got a high position in that office, then?'

Hermione couldn't blame Ron; the Hit Wizards and the Aurors were very closely linked divisions, so Draco holding power was all but the equivalent to him being their supervisor.

'Yeah.' Harry grinned at the three identical looks of anger on his friends' faces. 'He's not so bad, Malfoy. You just have to understand what happened to him to really start feeling sorry for him.'

'And do you know?' said Ginny, leaning forward eagerly. 'Did he tell you how he got those scars?'

Harry shook his head and cringed. 'He gets a bit...er...sensitive whenever his scars are brought up. He has changed a lot, though.'

Ron snorted. 'That's rubbish,' he said stubbornly. 'Once a spineless git, always a spineless git, that's what I say.'

'I believe you, Harry,' said Hermione, rolling her eyes at Ron. 'Remember what you told us in sixth year? It's pretty clear that he was ready to back out even then. As unpleasant as he can be sometimes, it's hard not to pity him.'

'Then he only "changed" himself out of fear,' Ron said viciously, 'and that proves nothing other than the fact that he's a slimy coward as well a bastard.'

'Ron, drop it,' said Hermione warningly.

'Anyway,' said Harry, cottoning onto Hermione's attempt to change the subject, 'what paperwork did Robards assign you now, Hermione?'

'Paperwork?'

'Yeah, what you were doing just before you came down. You were working, weren't you?'

'Oh! Of course I was.' Hermione nervously glanced over Harry's shoulder at Ginny, who was giving her a searching look. 'I was reading the reports of that recent werewolf attack in Bristol. They think Fenrir is back.'

'Fenrir Greyback?' said Harry. His eyebrows were raised in scepticism. 'Last I heard, he was dead.'

Hermione shrugged. 'A witch and her Muggle husband claimed to have seen him in the woods by their house before he disappeared. The sighting apparently occurred two hours before the attack, which wasn't far away from their home.' This much she knew was true, for she had been scanning the report just before she left to go see Shadow.

'Are you sure? I mean, it's hard to recognise werewolves...'

'Yes, Ron, I know,' Hermione sighed. 'I'll ask Lupin about it when he comes over for Christmas. Your mum did say he and Tonks are coming over, right?'

'Yeah,' Ron affirmed.

Ginny and Harry broke into matching grins, for they were particularly fond of the couple. 'I haven't seen Tonks for years,' said Ginny, her eyes shining.

Hermione laughed. 'You see her everyday at work, Ginny.'

'But that's strictly business,' Ginny insisted. 'It'll be nice to have her and Lupin here again; they haven't dropped by since the beginning of the war.'

Hermione couldn't help but agree with this. She had missed Lupin dreadfully; he had been her favourite teacher back at Hogwarts and had saved her life countless times during the war. They occasionally wrote to each other now, but it wasn't quite the same as having him beside her. Tonks, too, would be a joy to have back, and Hermione had no doubt that her very presence in the house would launch everyone into the holiday spirit.

'So Hermione,' Ginny continued, her eyes sparkling meaningfully as she leaned over Harry (who had begun to enthusiastically relate his recent lunch with Oliver Wood to Ron) to look at Hermione, 'how was your evening?'

Hermione pressed a finger to her lips and glared at Ginny, a wordless indication to not mention her earlier whereabouts in the presence of their boyfriends. Ginny smiled smugly and said nothing else on the matter, but it was clear that once the two of them escaped the family's company later, she wouldn't hesitate to press Hermione for details.

For the moment, Hermione breathed a sigh of relief and leaned back against the sofa. Closing her eyes, she let the warmth of the room, the enticing smell of hot chocolate, and the buzz of chatter wash over her and soothe her jumpy nerves.

Her mind drifted back two hours to the initial words exchanged between her and Shadow. She pictured him sitting beside her, his masked face turned away, his gloved hands clenched tightly into fists. He had spoken with such elegance and intelligence that she had felt completely at ease talking to him. Not a single part of her had pointed out just how odd their situation was during the course of those two hours they spent together.

Hermione shivered as she remembered the frown that had played at his thin lips the whole time he spoke to her and the way his grey eyes had swirled with hate, distaste, and sadness - all at the same time. It frustrated her that she couldn't quite decide whether or not she knew him; though the little of his face she'd seen had created a fuzzy image that continued to linger in the shadowy corners of her mind, a name and identity had yet to occur to her. All she knew for certain was that he'd gone to school with Harry, which meant he was about the same age as her.

Sighing, Hermione rubbed her temples and tried to chase away the memories of Shadow. She had to focus on what was there in front of her at that very moment: her best friends, her second family, and, most importantly, her boyfriend.

'Ron,' she said sharply.

Ron raised his eyebrows. 'What, Hermione?'

'I'm going to be at the site of the Malkin murder tomorrow morning, but I'm free in the afternoon. Are you going to be working?'

'I think I get off at two, but don't quote me on it; I'll have to ask Robards...he's been working me to the bone lately, that one...'

Hermione rolled her eyes. 'You're only saying that because he tries to make you stay in the office, and you'd rather run around, cursing Dementors and dark wizards.'

Grinning, Ron leaned over and kissed Hermione on the lips. 'You've got me all figured out.'

'I wish I did,' muttered Hermione under her breath, unsure as to whether she meant it or not, but Ron didn't seem to hear her, for he had returned to his conversation with Harry. Hermione frowned, feeling the invitation to lunch she'd intended to offer Ron die on her lips.

With a sigh, Hermione stood up and bid the remaining members of the family, Ginny, and Harry good-night. She didn't wait for them to respond, and instead hurried upstairs to her bedroom, hoping fiercely that sleep would bring about a temporary stay to her confused and turbulent thoughts.

---

Hermione woke the next morning with a sense of dread in the pit of her stomach. Unable to place its source, she got out of bed, brushed her teeth, and dressed in less than three minutes. She checked her watch as she hastened out of her room, checking to see if she had enough time to grab a quick bite. She did.

When she arrived downstairs, she found, to her surprise, that everyone save for Mrs Weasley was still in bed.

'Ron's still asleep?' Hermione inquired as she shuffled up to Mrs Weasley and eyed the thick, purplish liquid simmering in a small cauldron on the stove. 'And what's that? I've never seen that potion before.'

'I would have expected you to be more surprised to find him awake than asleep at this hour,' teased Mrs Weasley, smiling briefly at Hermione before returning her attention to the sausages she was flipping in a frying pan, 'and Angelina and Alicia - bless them - have both come down with the flu due to the cold weather here, so I brewed them this potion. I got the ingredients from Witch Weekly,' she added in explanation when she caught sight of Hermione's dubious expression.

'What's wrong with using a regular Pepper-up Potion?' Hermione asked curiously.

'Nothing, of course,' Mrs Weasley replied distractedly as she prodded the flames beneath the frying pan with her wand. 'I just haven't had the time to go shopping lately, and Miranda Buschart insists that this potion cures symptoms more efficiently, so I fancied giving it a try. Don't fret over it, dear - here, have some sausages -'

'Thank you,' said Hermione gratefully as Mrs Weasley dropped three or four sausages onto a plate, 'but really, Mrs Weasley, I'm fine. I'm just about to leave for work, anyway.'

'Work?' repeated Mrs Weasley incredulously. 'This early in the morning? Why, that's unheard of!'

Hermione concealed a smile. 'Don't worry, it's just for today. I've been assigned to investigate the Malkin case.' She speared a sausage using a fork lying on the counter, ate it in two bites, and shrugged on her cloak. 'Well, I'm off now. When everyone else wakes up, let them know that I love them and I'll be back for lunch if things go well.'

'Of course, dear,' said Mrs Weasley, smoothing Hermione's hair and kissing her cheek in a motherly fashion. 'Be careful out there!'

'I will,' Hermione assured before waving good-bye and stepping out the door.

Once outside, Hermione breathed in the crisp, earthy scent of the frosty morning air, closed the screen door behind her, and strode briskly down the winding dirt path leading to the apparation shack. There, she cast one last fond glance over her shoulder at the Burrow's teetering, crooked form before stepping inside and shutting the wooden door firmly behind her.

In contrast to the bright, sunlit garden, the apparation shed was dark and dusty. Cautiously feeling around in front of her to make sure there was nothing in her path, Hermione took a few steps forward until she was standing in the centre of the shack. Then, closing her eyes, she pictured the cramped apparation closet in The Leaky Cauldron, a pub whose back door led into an alley which in turn hid the secret entrance to Diagon Alley, stepped forward, and apparated away.