A Long Way from Home

Chapter VIII

The Burrow was bustling with all the usual, cheerful holiday noise, which surprised Hermione. Hasn’t anyone heard about the raid? Where was the chatter about what was to be done, about what had happened with Cho? But no, Molly Weasley was happily directing the incoming traffic in her kitchen and smiled brightly as Harry and Hermione stepped through the Floo with Carole.

“Happy Christmas, dears! Settle in now, Ron’s in the living room.” She waved them away and scurried over to lift Sadie away from the counter; the toddler has been aiming for a tray of home made fudge. Hermione laughed uneasily, still feeling somewhat shaky over the conversation she had only recently shared with Harry, and waved at the other Weasley family members scattered through the room. After settling her mother into a chair, she headed from the kitchen in search of Harry and Ron, knowing that they would be discussing the Beryan issue.

Much to her surprise however, Ron was lounging lazily on the couch, Andie settled on the floor in front of him. They were talking with their heads close together, smiling conspiratorially. Harry was standing near the Christmas tree, talking to Ginny and a very tall, auburn-headed wizard. Her curiosity piqued, she made quick business of greeting Ron and Andie before moving over to introduce herself.

“Hermione!” Ginny said as she approached, “I’d like you to meet someone. This is Tynan Lahey.”

The handsome wizard extended his hand with a dazzling smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Hermione.”

Hermione grinned and felt her face grow slightly warm. “And you, Tynan. You have such an unusual name.” She noticed out of the corner of her eye that Harry was frowning, but decided to ignore him.

“Yes, it was my grandfather’s name. I absolutely despise it, actually. You can call me Ty.” Tynan’s accent was mostly neutral, but Hermione detected a very subtle French accent.

Hermione laughed and returned his easy smile. She turned to Ginny. “So how did you two meet?”

“Ty’s family owns Lahey Publishing and he works at the Paris offices. They carry the exclusive contract for the Museum’s reading materials and I met him at a planning meeting in September.”

“Lovely,” Hermione replied and finally turned to look at Harry, who still seemed displeased.

“Where were you educated, Lahey?” Harry asked, his tone quite severe.

Ty seemed to take it completely in stride as he replied, “Beauxbatons. I still keep a residence in Marseille, actually.”

“Oh, I do love Cassis. My parents and I traveled there frequently when I was younger,” Hermione said, her voice brightening.

The conversation about Southern France continued on for several minutes until Harry sniffed and cut off Tynan in the middle of a sentence about a small bistro. He smiled tightly at Ginny and her boyfriend and clasped Hermione’s elbow, leading her over to talk to Ron. Hermione was annoyed by this, but refrained from saying anything as she noticed the twinkle in Andie’s eyes when they approached.

“He’s charming isn’t he?” Andie whispered to Hermione conspiratorially.

“Indeed,” Hermione replied, grinning. She reveled in the change in Andie’s mood in the past twenty-four hours. The effects of the potion were seemingly gone and she seemed far more upbeat than she had just that morning. Hermione knew that the talks with her mother must have helped.

“He’s a wanker,” Ron added, looking disdainfully at Tynan as the other wizard enveloped Ginny in a tight embrace. “Comes in here, all high and mighty, giving flowers to Mum and helping bring the tree in. Who does he think he is?”

Harry mumbled his agreement, “There’s definitely something off about him.”

Andie scoffed and waved them both away, “Go outside or something. We won’t have you lot in here spoiling the mood.”

Ron and Harry obliged her and they caught up with the twins in the hallway. There was much murmuring from Fred and George, punctuated by the occasional guffaw from Ron or Harry. Figuring they were up to no good, Hermione rose and followed Andie into the kitchen to help Mrs. Weasley finish up dinner. She kept her ears open as they passed the group of men, but they all looked at her in stony silence as she passed. Only Fred was unable to keep a wicked grin off of his face. She gave them her best glare before lifting her chin and walking haughtily into the kitchen.

“They’re up to something,” she announced as she entered the room.

“The twins have wanted to torture poor Tynan since he arrived. I’m not sure what their problem is; I think he’s lovely,” Molly said as she waved her wand towards the cutting board, setting the knife to chopping potatoes.

“I’m sure it’s just that innate male jealousy popping up. They all think they need to protect their little sister,” Andie said, shaking her head.

“How are you holding up dear?” Molly asked her daughter-in-law.

“Well enough. I feel better than I have in days.”

“That’s wonderful,” Carole said, speaking up for the first time. She reached across the table to pat Andie’s hand before returning to icing the sugar cookies. Hermione took a seat next to her mother and began waving her wand over the iced cookies, adding magical sprinkles that she knew the kids would love.

“Where’s everyone else?” Andie asked, looking around the surprisingly empty kitchen. Hermione noticed the quiet for the first time and nodded. Fred and George had arrived with the children right before they had and she was pretty sure she’d seen Fleur in the kitchen when she’d come through the Floo.

“Charlie, Bill and Fleur took the little ones to the back garden to collect the Fairy lights and the other girls are doing some last minute shopping in Diagon Alley. I’m not sure why they insist on waiting ‘til Christmas Eve.”

Hermione shared a secret grin with Andie, knowing that Molly had her shopping done since at least November. The Weasley matriarch prided herself on both the gifts she bought and made for her grandchildren.

Further conversation was halted as several loud bangs issued from the living room. Molly, Andie and Hermione looked at each other momentarily, varying degrees of worry passing over their faces, before darting into the living room.

Dozens of small yellow and blue budgies were darting furiously around the room, chasing Tynan. Ginny was attempting to hit them with stunning spells, but every time one made its mark, the bird burst in a shower of glitter to ten more. Harry, Ron and the twins were huddled in a corner, laughing as Ty raced around the room. Hermione glared reprovingly at them before waving her wand. Each of the little, twittering birds quickly disappeared into the tip and Ty came to a halt in front of the stairs. He turned to look at the assembled group, his face as red as his hair.

Molly began hitting her sons about their heads with her wand. “Honestly, you’d think the lot of you were just children. I never raised you to treat guests this way…” Her voice trailed off as Harry, Ron and the twins darted down the hallway towards the back garden, Molly following quickly behind them.

Hermione and Andie looked at each other only briefly, desperately trying not to snicker. Ginny was waving her wand at Ty, cleaning away the feathers and smoothing his ruffled appearance.

“What happened?” Hermione finally ventured after being sure she wouldn’t start laughing.

“The mistletoe exploded into those damn birds,” Ginny explained hastily, her face tinged pink. “Fred and George have gone too far.”

“It’s not really that big of a deal,” Ty said, his voice quiet. “Your mother seems perfectly capable of handling the situation.”

“Oh, she’s no stranger to their antics. And Ron and Harry only encouraged them, so I’m sure they’ll hear about it too.” Andie was laughing out loud at this point, as occasional shouting could be heard from the garden.

Tynan finally laughed softly and leaned in to give Ginny a soft, lingering kiss. Hermione smiled as her old friend sighed into the kiss. She felt Andie tug at her arm and they hastily left the two lovebirds alone.

Carole was still seated at the table, her crutches propped up against it. “What happened?” she asked, her expression careful.

“Fred and George had a bit of fun with the mistletoe.”

“Poor Ty,” Carole replied, laughing. “Those two make me so glad I never had any boys. You were never a handful, dear. Now, girls, help me finish these before Molly gets back. I’m pretty sure the others will be back soon – it’s nearly time for dinner.”

As if on cue, several additional members of the Weasley family burst into the kitchen. Charlie and Bill were surrounded by laughing and shouting Weasley children carrying magical jars full of glittering lights as Fleur followed the group holding both twins in some sort of dual-carrier. She smiled and waved at Hermione and Andie as each of the girls offered to take one of the babies.

“’Allo, ladies, how are you?” She hugged both of them in turn and sat down in one of the empty chairs to help with the desserts. Hermione grinned at her; thinking about how much Fleur had changed since they’d first met her so many years ago. Her time as a Weasley had softened her a great deal and she was much kinder now.

“You missed all the excitement earlier,” Andie told her. “Fred and George charmed the mistletoe and when Ginny kissed Tynan, it exploded into all these little budgies.”

A smile played at the corners of Fleur’s mouth as she set earnestly to icing a Christmas cake. “Is everyone alright?”

“I think so. Molly was doling out a severe punishment in the garden, it seemed,” Hermione answered. “Remember to never cross your grandmum, little one,” she cooed, snuggling little Elise against her. The other women gathered around the table laughed and mumbled their agreement.

There was another round of noise at the door as Angelina, Katie and Annabelle trudged in. They were laden down with packages from various shops and scrambled to get everything into the living room and under the tree as various children began climbing all over them.

“Happy Christmas, Hermione!” Angelina said jovially. Katie and Annabelle followed with similar greetings once they had all reappeared in the kitchen. Molly was close behind them, talking animatedly to Ginny and Tynan about the concert that would be on the wireless later. She directed Ginny to set out dishes and asked Tynan if he needed anything to drink before asking the other ladies to clear away from the table.

Christmas Eve dinner was a fairly casual affair: the full Christmas dinner would be served the next afternoon. The table was quickly loaded down with several different pies, salads and a curry. Hermione helped to move the desserts to one of the counter tops before setting out the silverware. The other family members began to reassemble in the kitchen, with Ron and company slinking in after everyone else.

Arthur greeted his large, extended family before asking everyone to tuck in. Dishes were passed around and individual conversations sprang up as people began to eat. The children were loud and rowdy from their own small table and had to be hushed several times. When dessert finally came around, Hermione was shocked that not a word had been said about the news from that morning. She had been waiting to hear something and had been sorely disappointed by the lack of discussion. Molly finally quieted everyone down and turned her attentions to Tynan.

“So, Ty, you must tell us more about yourself. What is your family like?”

Ty smiled indulgently at Molly. “Well, I was raised in Oxford. My father runs our offices in London. Mother does a great deal of charity work and my brother, Thomas, is a Healer in Australia. We both attended school abroad, rather than at Hogwarts.”

“That’s lovely. I’ve heard of your father of course, but who is your Mother?”

“Anastaise Rousseau. Her family is French.”

“My father has a cousin Anastaise – I wonder if they are the same?” Fleur asked, her voice perky.

“I would say that’s quite possible. The pureblood families in France are even more closely related than in the UK.”

There was a short, uncomfortable silence following his statement, almost inexplicably. Hermione knew that following the war, this sort of thing was rarely said, but the men gathered round the table seemed infinitely bothered by it. Hermione raised her eyebrows at Harry, whom merely shook his head at her before taking another bite of his treacle tart.

Bill finally cleared his throat and offered Tynan a tight smile. “Do you play Quidditch?”

“Absolutely. I was Seeker on my school team.”

This seemed to set the conversation on more comfortable footing and soon enough, the general conversation revolved around the World Cup that was coming in the summer. Hermione felt comfortable enough to completely ignore the conversation – she didn’t have the slightest clue how the whole tournament even worked. She took the time to look carefully around the table and saw for the most part that everyone had settled down. Harry, Ron and Arthur, however, still seemed wary of Tynan and she made a point to ask Harry about it later.

The chatter wore on until the various children began to express signs of exhaustion. Andie had explained earlier that it was a Weasley Family tradition for Molly and Arthur to take the grandkids to one of the other houses for the night and that Carole would be welcome to go with them. It gave everyone else a chance to finish wrapping presents, making food for the dinner tomorrow and decorate the house. And, one mustn’t forget, to get absolutely banjaxed.

After the children had all been cleared out and Molly had instructed them they’d be back at 8am, Angelina called for attention.

“Alright all, this year, we’ve got some lovely drinks for you. Fred and I’ve been working on them all fall and I’ve decided to call them amoritas. There’s passion fruit juice, rum, and something else that packs a bit of fun,” here Fred nudged her, “oh, and of course, there’s umbrellas.”

Harry grinned at Hermione as he came up next to her. “Ron says they had this drink last year made everyone burst into song at random intervals. He said that after Andie did a fantastic rendition of ‘Blow the Man Down’, everyone was really in love with her.”

Hermione laughed loudly as she took one of the proffered drinks and stirred it briefly with the umbrella, sniffing it before taking a sip. She let out a gasp as the icy cool liquid hit her tongue before swallowing the sweet drink down greedily. It tasted of the passion fruit and rum, of course, but there was something about the smell – it was familiar, almost like spice and the woods. It seemed particularly odd for a fruity punch drink, but no one else seemed to think anything of it. The others had begun to spread out, with the ladies heading to the living room to wrap gifts and the blokes heading outside to hang fairy lights on the house. In just a couple of hours, everything was ready for the large Christmas party the following afternoon.

The ladies worked on the last of about five pitchers of the rum drink as Fred and George cleared away some of the snow and built a large magical bon fire in the back yard. Hermione and Angelina cast warming charms over the area and conjured soft, plush blankets.

Harry waved her over to the spot he had claimed, motioning to a couple of blankets and some liquored hot chocolate. She made her way over to him and settled down as Ron and Andie sat next to them. Small conversations sprang up among the young adults as they reveled in the child-free time. Harry and Hermione, however, sat in silence, instead choosing to sneak glances at each other and smile sheepishly. They weren’t touching, and Hermione wasn’t totally sure the heat on her right side was coming from the fire. She was painfully aware of how close he was, but knew that to touch him now would force them to deal with whatever this new development was much sooner than expected.

There was comfortable laughing and small talk as the magical fire burned lower. Hermione watched the flames in silence, enjoying the break from the world. The past week had been non-stop research and fieldwork as the Order pushed further into their investigations. McGonagall had caused a temporary halt in their work after the raid that ended Beryan’s life. Hermione still fell ill at ease, like everything wasn’t over just yet, but she trusted the headmistress’s judgment. Over the past few hours, she had grown glad that no one had talked about Beryan’s death. Work would resume after Boxing Day and they would tie up loose ends. She chastised herself for always thinking the worst and took a steadying breath. It was time to enjoy the peace and quiet while it lasted.

One by one, people began to drift off to bed until only the Trio and Andie remained. They talked quietly of the impending spring term. Ron was hoping to develop a Muggle technology course, but knew it was a long shot. He and Hermione talked over some ideas for the class and convincing McGonagall while Harry told Andie about Sirius and his father becoming animagi.

“You need to give her a reason, Ron. Remember how you were in school? You never cared about Muggles or their technology and you constantly harangued Harry and me to think like wizards. It wasn’t until…” She dropped off and looked at Ron shamefacedly.

“Until I lost my magic?” Ron said quietly.

“It was only a short time, but it was enough to teach you the importance of both worlds. McGonagall needs to believe that should be the point of your class – to understand why it’s important to have more knowledge, not less.”

Ron just nodded as he distractedly wound his fingers through his wife’s. Hermione looked carefully at the palms of her hands as her mind wandered back to their final battle. After the attacks against the remaining Death Eaters, Hermione and Ron had both suffered severe magical drains. Hermione had still been able to do some basic spells, but Ron hadn’t been able to do so much as a Wingardium Leviosa. In that time period, and for the months afterwards that it took to fully recover his powers, Ron had immersed himself in Muggle life and technology.

Hermione felt Harry shift dramatically next to her. “What do you mean, exactly?”

Ron looked at Harry sharply and a guilty look flashed over his features. “Exactly what I said, I lost my magic. After you left – I didn’t realize until after you left.”

“And you knew?” Harry asked, looking at Hermione with a hurt expression on his face. She nodded once and stared at him without blinking. She had wanted Harry to know, but Ron had forbidden it. She had left before he was fully recovered and to her recollection, he had only mentioned it exactly once in all the years since.

“Why…” Harry began, his face anguished, “why couldn’t you tell me something like that?”

“Didn’t seem important in the scheme of things, really,” Ron answered. His answer bothered Hermione greatly; she knew that at the time it had nearly destroyed Ron but he had been determined to hide it from his friend. Hermione knew now that Ron had been trying to protect Harry.

Harry, however, said nothing and merely stared into the magical orange flames. After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, Ron stood and pulled Andie to her feet. As he walked past Harry, he put his hand down to lightly grip the other man’s shoulder. Harry turned his gaze to Ron and Hermione saw something flicker unspoken between them. A moment later, Harry relaxed his shoulders and quietly bade his friends a goodnight.

Hermione watched him in silence before leaning towards him and snuggling against his arm. He lifted it and wrapped it around her shoulders. Taking in a deep breath of his scent, she closed her eyes and rested against his chest, concentrating on his steady heartbeat.

He held her like that so long that Hermione lost track of time as her thoughts wandered away. She was thinking of that time in her life, when Harry was gone and she still fancied herself in love with Ron. She recalled her feelings as that love began to fade into something else…

Harry’s hands were on her face, immediately pulling her thoughts from the far-off place they had drifted to. He was looking at her with such a varied mix of emotions in his emerald eyes that she felt a slight panic rise in her chest, wondering if he would pull away from her again. That’s what he’d done the last time, when everything was settled and she thought they’d all have a chance at a real life; he went away from her, taking a lifetime’s worth of guilt on his shoulders.

The face that she saw this time, however, was the face of a young man, more sure of his place in the world. Before, he had still been a boy, but with the eyes of an old man. He had grown into his own skin, finally, and this was how he faced her today.

And as if he’d heard her exact thoughts, he brushed the pad of his thumb over her lips and whispered, “I’m so sorry, for everything.”

She hushed him and pressed her lips to his, feeling her very foundations crumbling beneath her. There was something different in his kiss on this night. The others had been such a mix of emotions: lust, confusion, heat, hunger and something else, something she hadn’t been able to name. Tonight, the kiss was entirely that something else. It spoke of their shared history and their separate histories. It bespoke of many unwanted emotions that had taken them so far apart from one another and it told of the hope and trust that was the most basic element of their friendship. It was too much at once and as she pushed back from him, she knew immediately what it was.

She was hopelessly in love with him and it transcended anything she had felt previously. There was a brief glimmer of understanding in his eyes as she moved back from him, consolidating into her own space.

Tentatively, he touched a hand to her face. “We need to talk, Hermione. You can’t put it off any longer.” His tone was different than it had been for the previous request of this conversation. This was simply a desire to talk to her, to tell her everything that he needed to. She pressed her face into his palm and nodded, her earlier reserves melting away at the feel of his touch.

“Yes, I know. Where do we start?”

He smiled at her, so sweetly, and kissed her gently on the lips. “Tell me, Hermione…”he paused and took a deep breath, “tell me how you feel about – me- us, and this, whatever this is.”

She hooked a finger under his chin and pulled it up so that she could look at him squarely, marveling at the sudden Gryffindor bravery that had welled up inside of her. “I – I’ve, well, I… after all this time, and everything we’ve been through…I love you, Harry,” she pushed out hurriedly, her voice softening to a whisper.

She was mortified at her own words, but Harry just chuckled. “It’s madness, isn’t it? I mean, should I say all those horribly cliché things like ‘If only we’d known sooner…’ or ‘How could we have fooled ourselves for so long?’”

Laughing, she kissed him soundly and smiled as he pulled her body flush against his, stretching out on one of the conjured blankets. His face was serious as he looked down at her. “I love you, Hermione and I can’t believe it’s taken me so long to find you again.”

Sighing, she allowed herself to be wrapped in his arms and subjected to hundreds of delicate little kisses on her neck. She breathed in the smell of him, spice and the woods, and smiled to herself as recognition clicked into place.

***

Amazingly, Harry reflected later, they hadn’t let themselves get carried away in the Weasleys’ back garden. They had talked about their feelings, about their relationship, past and present and had reveled in simply being with each other. Not to be misunderstood, it hadn’t really been due to any effort on his part that they hadn’t gotten carried away. His idea had been to toss her over his shoulder and take her home to Hogsmeade, but she had laughed him off and only snuggled closer to him.

They had fallen asleep as the magical fire burned low into the night. Just before daybreak, they had awoken, chilly and stiff-limbed. They made quick work of getting the garden cleaned up before heading inside, giggling and whispering. Of course, several people were already up and moving around, so they had to sneak carefully upstairs and get ready for the day.

True to her word, Molly returned at 8am, with her husband, Carole Granger and grandchildren all in toe. The general noise level in the house increased threefold as the children began hastily tearing through their Christmas gifts, the general din occasionally punctuated by a squeal of delight. Harry had showered quickly and made it downstairs before everyone had shown up, but Hermione was only coming down the stairs about fifteen minutes after they’d arrived.

Only Ginny seemed to notice and her only hint of acknowledgement was a single, raised eyebrow. Hermione had winked subtly at her before turning her attention to the frenzy of gift unwrapping on the floor.

It was the first Christmas morning that Harry could recall spent with young children. He had never returned for Christmas holidays after leaving for the States and his seventh year’s Christmas had been spent in a cellar with Ron and Hermione at some safe house in Wales. It was a definite event in his eyes and he hadn’t been so amused in a long time. He and Hermione had spent countless hours shopping for just the right gifts for the brood, even down to Bill and Fleur’s young twins. Trips to both Muggle and Wizarding London had been necessary and he felt it had been well worth it as Sadie and Bea each picked through a large trunk of magical dress clothes and Isaac played with two miniature racing brooms. Hermione had picked out two stuffed elephants for the twins, one in pink and the other in lavender. Harry had had the hardest time deciding on a gift for baby Colin, who had just turned one. Hermione had found a magical toyshop in Diagon Alley and they had decided on a little magical keyboard that had something like 1000 different sounds. Fred was already giving them slightly threatening glares.

There were a couple hours of quiet after everyone opened gifts. Guests for the Christmas dinner would be arriving after 1pm and everyone was pretty much free to do what they wished during the interim. Hermione had been tugged away to the kitchen by Andie and Fleur and Harry had settled in the living room with Ron for a game of wizard’s chess.

“Checkmate,” Ron said finally, after Harry had made a dismal attempt at play. “Shall we have another game?”

Harry nodded his reply and the pieces on the board quickly moved to their starting positions. Ron called out an opening move that Harry immediately recognized. It left him fairly well trapped and he knew that Ron would easily control the game.

He called out his own move and one of the pawns turned and began telling him off. After some prodding, the piece slid forward and was quickly attacked by one of Ron’s pieces. Harry eventually lost the second game in a predictable fashion and Ron was looking at him as if he’d suddenly sprouted horns.

“What?” Harry asked.

“What’s wrong with you today? You haven’t played like this since Hogwarts.”

Harry shrugged. “My head’s not really in it, I guess. I-“

“Stop,” Ron interrupted. “You don’t need to say anything about last night at the fire. I – well, I should have told you ages ago and I should be the one apologizing. There was just too much going on at the time, with all of us, and I didn’t want to add anything to your issues.”

Ron looked distinctly uncomfortable as he said this, avoiding Harry’s gaze completely. Harry just nodded and moved to reset the chessboard. The conversation was over, Harry knew, and it was an issue better left alone. He quickly put his head into their game, but it was already lost.

“I spent a lot of time playing myself,” Harry said without prompting. “You have to learn quite a bit about it if you want to be even remotely entertained playing by yourself.”

Ron laughed and nodded. “Tell me about it. At least a wizarding chess set can be magicked to play by itself. Muggle pieces are just little bits of plastic.”

“Dudley only ever had one chess set. It was one of those travel-sized ones and I think he tried to shoot all the pieces out of an air rifle.”

Ron rolled his eyes.

“Wotcher, Harry, Ron! Happy Christmas!” Tonks and Remus arrived via Floo into the Weasleys’ living room just as they had finished packing up the chess set. Harry went over to greet them as Molly Weasley came in, unburdening them of their food hampers.

“Lovely to see you, Tonks, Remus. You look wonderful, Tonks,” Molly said as she kissed Remus’ cheek and patted Tonks on the shoulder. “How are you feeling?”

Tonks placed a hand over her slightly rounded lower abdomen and smiled, “Better than I have in weeks.”

Molly beamed at her. “Lovely! Come in and have a seat then. Dinner will be up as soon as the others have arrived.”

“The others” included Professor McGonagall, Neville and Luna Longbottom and Andie’s family. A short interval passed before they were all seated at the elongated table, passing around the dozens of dishes. The meal passed by without any excitement until dessert. At this point, a sleek, dark brown owl darted in and dropped two letters: one at Professor McGonagall’s place and the other at Harry’s. It flew out again just as suddenly, leaving a silent kitchen in its wake.

“Who’s the owl from?” Hermione asked him, trying to peak at the front of it. Harry shrugged and threw a brief glance at McGonagall before breaking the red wax seal.

P-

All is not quiet on the Eastern front. Prepare for further contact.

-M

C-261204-1930

There was a clamor as Professor McGonagall began admonishing him to put the note away. Something is his face must have given his thoughts away, because Hermione was whispering in his ear, “What’s wrong? What does it say?”

He shrugged her off and shook his head. Minerva nodded her head at him and he tucked the note into his robe pocket.

“Well, is anyone ready for a cup of tea in the living room? There’s another concert on the wireless this evening,” Molly asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence. Several members of the assembled group assented and there was much rustling as people began to take leave of the table. He waited until most of the family had trickled away and only he and Hermione remained with Professor McGonagall. Harry had maneuvered to block his old teacher in the kitchen and had inadvertently piqued Hermione’s curiosity.

“What’s in your letter?” Harry asked, his tone fairly severe.

“Watch your tone, Mr. Potter. You are not the only member of the Order of the Phoenix.”

“I apologize, Professor. Now, please, tell me.”

“I don’t know,” McGonagall sniffed. “I’ve not had a spare moment to read mine, have I? I didn’t deem it necessary to interrupt a holiday meal for a poorly timed missive.”

Harry felt his face redden and he looked down at his shoes, immediately contrite. He waited in silence, however, knowing that he should let Professor McGonagall be the first to speak.

“I’m going to take a moment for some fresh air. If there’s anything to tell, I’ll find you,” she said finally, before heading out of the kitchen.

“Harry!” Hermione admonished. “I can’t believe you spoke to her like that! What does your note say?”

Wordlessly, Harry handed over the folded parchment and Hermione quickly scanned it.

“How long have you been receiving communications from Malfoy?”

“About a week.”

Hermione glared at him. “What do these numbers mean?”

“It’s code: a location, date and time.”

“So you’re actually going to meet with him?”

“I have to,” Harry replied quietly. “His information on Beryan was good and I need to speak to him about his mother. Helping us may have cost him greatly – we still aren’t sure why Beryan killed Narcissa Malfoy.”

He could tell by her stance that Hermione was furious, but he refused to apologize. Even if he’d only told her last night about the true depth of his feelings, it hadn’t meant that he hadn’t known his own emotions. He had loved Hermione, even without really knowing it, for a long time and keeping her out of harm’s way had been an easy decision.

She finally sighed and gave him a withering look. “I want to be privy to this meeting. Figure out a way for me to join you.”

“We’ll see,” Harry said, feeling that it really wasn’t the time or place to be having this discussion. “Let it drop for now, please. Hermione, I love you and you have to understand my position here.”

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he knew he’d made a mistake. He’d shown his hand too early and now, her gaze had turned stony.

“How dare you, Harry Potter. I am a senior member of the Order of the Phoenix and you cannot keep information like this from me. Our personal feelings for each other aside, you should have told me you were the one communicating with him! We had no idea if he was trustworthy and you are putting yourself in danger if you go to meet him, regardless of whether or not his information was helpful. We had all those rumors of his role in those previous attacks…”

Harry cupped her face in his hands, “I know all that Hermione; I swear that I do, but I had to take that chance. Amidst all those rumors, he sought us out and gave us information following the attack on Diagon Alley – we’ve only communicated via owl, never face to face. I need to speak with him in person now and I hope you can understand why.”

Her face softened somewhat and she nodded, leaning into his touch somewhat. “You have to stay safe, too, Harry. I still feel like something’s not right about…anything.”

“Tell me about it,” he replied. “I still don’t like this Tynan bloke.”

Her anger flared slightly at his comment as she had decided she’d had enough of all his suspicions. “Oh, come off it; you know that isn’t what I meant. There’s nothing wrong with him. I realize that you think of Ginny as a little sister and all, but don’t you think you’re taking this too far?”

“Absolutely not,” he said, his voice steady. “There’s something off about him and his whole family and I’ll be checking into him on Monday. Arthur and Ron both agree with me. When the war was at its pinnacle and the chips were down, the Laheys did nothing. Some of the Order members suspected them of involvement with the Death Eaters, but nothing came of it. Arthur says any inquiries at the Ministry were halted.”

“What does that have to do with anything now?”

“Hermione, can’t you just trust me on this? My instinct says that there’s something wrong with this guy and I’m just going to check into it. If I’m wrong, I’ll stay out of the whole affair – I’ll even buy the guy a drink. For now, he’s just too close to this family for me to let it go.”

Hermione rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Fine, but when you muck everything up and Ginny takes your head off, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Fair enough. Now, I’ve decided that I need to be at the Ministry more over the coming weeks. Tonks is going to set me up in the Magical Law Enforcement office so that I can gather information.”

“Is the Minister all right with that?”

A commotion at the door of the kitchen prevented him answering. McGonagall rushed into the kitchen with Arthur and Remus in tow. Molly rushed in after them, using her wand to seal the door between the living room and kitchen.

“Harry, Hermione, Draco Malfoy has gone missing. Kingsley Shacklebolt arranged a meeting with him this afternoon and he never showed. The safe house he was located in has been ransacked.”

“That’s not possible, Professor,” Harry replied. “The owl I received was from Malfoy, he arranged for a meeting tomorrow.”

“Mr. Malfoy has specifically requested that he not meet with you, Harry. He said it would be too dangerous for both of you if you were spotted.”

Harry groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose as he handed his letter over to McGonagall. She cast some sort of spell and shook her head, “This letter doesn’t contain Mr. Malfoy’s magical signature.”

Hermione’s face had gone ghostly pale as she looked at him. He held her gaze for a moment before nodding at McGonagall. “What do we do next?”

“Shacklebolt is already attempting to locate Malfoy, there are a few other meeting points arranged. We’ll receive an update within the hour,” Arthur said.

“If we don’t learn anything new, we’ll send a team to follow his trail.”

“Is there anything else that can be done?” Hermione asked.

Professor McGonagall shook her head, a grim expression on her face. “We can only wait for more information. If we attempt to take any action without further news, we risk putting Mr. Malfoy in further danger.”

The rest of her position was left unspoken: the Order was still unsure of the loyalties of the former Death Eater and until that was resolved, they could be placing members’ lives in jeopardy by actively pursuing Malfoy. The fact that someone knew, or had even guessed, that Harry and Malfoy had been communicating was a serious enough problem as it stood.

There was a loud knock at the door, interrupting the tense silence that had settled over the kitchen. Hermione jumped nervously at the noise and turned as she heard Ginny’s voice softly through the silencing charm.

“Mum? We’re leaving in a moment, I just wanted to say goodbye to everyone.”

Molly wearily raised her wand and opened the door, admitting Ginny and Tynan into the somber room. The young couple didn’t seem to notice, however, as Ginny bustled over and gathered her mother into a warm hug.

“Happy Christmas, Mum. Thanks for everything.”

“Anytime, dear.”

“Dinner was wonderful, Mrs. Weasley,” Tynan said as he grasped Molly’s hand and kissed her cheek. “Thank you for having me.”

“It was a pleasure; you’re welcome back anytime, of course. Travel safely, please. How are you getting home?”

“We’ll Apparate to London and from there, take the international Floo from King’s Cross,” Ginny replied as she buttoned a long, moss green cloak over her robes. ”I don’t expect any problems.”

“Lovely. Owl me tomorrow then,” Molly said as she led them to the door. The others gathered in the kitchen voiced their goodbyes and a chorus of “Happy Christmas” was heard as the couple departed.

Harry was frowning, Hermione noticed, and his eyes were cold. He was looking carefully at Molly, who was fidgeting with the handkerchief she held. Arthur had an arm wrapped around his wife’s shoulders and was watching through the kitchen window as Ginny and Tynan walked to the Apparition point. After several moments of silence, Molly quietly offered everyone a cup of tea and they were all seated at the table once again.

As they sat and waited, other members of the family began to filter through the kitchen. Angelina and Fred were headed home with their children and George and Katie weren’t far behind. Charlie and his wife left with an already sleeping Isaac, the boy’s strawberry blond head tucked against his dad’s neck. Fleur and Bill were the last to leave, following behind Neville’s family. Tonks had left sometime earlier, admonishing Remus to keep her updated and Ron and Andie had been quietly apprised of the situation. They too were now seated at the table to await any news from Shacklebolt.

Hermione sighed miserably. A very happy Christmas day had deteriorated into this waiting game. There was so much up in the air now: Harry’s safety, Malfoy’s whereabouts and his loyalties. What did this all mean? It was almost too much to bear in her emotionally heightened state. The general uncertainty of the situation coupled with her newly realized feelings for Harry was making her nauseous as she watched him out of the corner of her eye. He had his head bent towards a piece of parchment, upon which he was furiously scribbling. The quill he was using had been charmed and the letters and phrases were all jumbled on the page. A bit of anger flared up at his secrecy, but she quickly quelled it.

There was a tapping at the window and a barn owl fluttered into the room as Mrs. Weasley opened the pane with a flick of her wand.

The owl dropped a letter in front of Harry and hopped to the end of the table to wait patiently for a response.

She peeked over his shoulder as he cast a de-cloaking charm over the parchment.

Harry,

Whereabouts of M. are still unknown. We’ve received some news about Beryan’s group that has led us to believe that we’re not yet through dealing with them. There is a team following the lead. Call Order members for a meeting tomorrow evening.

Shacklebolt

Harry handed the note over to McGonagall and ran his hands through his hair. Hermione tangled her fingers through his under the table and squeezed his hand gently. After a moment, he squeezed back and began speaking quietly.

“We’ll call the meeting for the day after tomorrow, just in case this has somehow been intercepted. I’d like to set up a schedule of arrivals to Idyllwild; people need to be arriving in small groups of two and three throughout the day. I want provisions in place in case we need to set up safe houses. I recognize that this is still a very unsure situation, but I won’t be caught off guard. Prepare as if we have knowledge of another attack.”

“Do you really feel that’s necessary, Harry?” Professor McGonagall asked, her voice stiff.

“It may be overkill, but I won’t take that chance. We have to be ready; I may have underestimated them and without knowing exactly where Malfoy’s loyalties lie, we can’t be too careful.”

The others gathered around the table nodded their agreement before Harry continued. “We’ll clear out for the night, but I want everyone to be careful. Constant vigilance and all that. If there’s anything out of the ordinary, contact another Order member immediately. Professor, I can trust that you’ll contact Remus and make arrangements for the meeting?”

“Absolutely.”

“Molly, Arthur, please get in touch with the rest of your family and let them know what’s going on. I’d like plans made for the children to be taken to a safe place if anything should happen.“

“Is there anything you’d like us to do, Harry?” Ron asked quietly.

Harry shook his head. “I hate to say it, but I’m wondering if perhaps poisoning Andie wasn’t just a way to get to you, Ron. If it’s alright, I’d like for you to stay here tonight and I’ll carefully check the wards at your house. If everything’s alright, you can go back in the morning.”

“And you think it’ll be safe for the two of you to return home?” Ron replied.

Harry just shrugged. “We’ll check the wards first, of course and if anything is wrong, we’ll return here.”

It was obvious to Hermione that absolutely no one, including herself, agreed with this, but she didn’t really feel like arguing at this moment. Additional plans were made and promises given to notify everyone if anything new was discovered before they all separated for the night.

Harry led Hermione silently from the kitchen into the back garden. He clasped their hands together and apparated them to the edge of Hogsmeade. With a single motion, he asked her to remain silent as they began creeping through the darkened streets towards their home.

With a simple ward-detecting charm, Harry quickly saw that something was amiss at their house. His wand had touched the edge of the ward as he’d whispered the detection charm and a violent shudder had coursed through the holly. He whispered yet another charm and a faint, teal aura glowed around the house. He carefully scanned the wards, checking for a breach and took in a sharp breath when he saw a violet tear in the magical protections. Someone had obviously broken through, but the grounds surrounding the cottage were silent.

Hermione cast several charms of her own and they quickly realized that no one was present in their home. Harry waved her back to a safer distance and began to move quickly towards the front door. He opened the door and slinked through the entryway, not turning on any lights and doing his best to avoid making any noise. There was a strange rustling noise coming from the living room and he held his breath as he entered the dark room.

A single beam of moonlight was shining almost directly on to the fireplace mantle. Pinned to the wood was a cutout from the Daily Prophet and it was obviously the source of the strange rustling noise. A draft from the fireplace was pushing the paper back and forth and Harry quickly crossed the room to see what the page contained.

It was an article from the Prophet that had come out just the day before. A Healer at St. Mungo’s had directly credited Hermione with saving the life of one of the injured from the explosion in Diagon Alley. At the top of the page was a picture of Hermione at the scene of the explosion. All around her, people were bustling, but the gray and white figure was completely still. The pin used to affix that paper to the mantle had been driven right through the heart of the Hermione in the photo, rendering her lifeless. Harry peered at the gruesome photo and let his eyes trail down to the hurried script across the caption.

The debt must be paid.

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Author's Note:

Thanks for reading and thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. Also, many thanks to my beta, Neil.