Scattered

Hermione blinked: once, twice. Then her eyes narrowed dangerously.

"I beg your pardon?" she said finally.

Bill looked calm. "Hermione, you're a bright young woman and you've always impressed everyone around you as being sensible and level-headed. I'm not going to sit here and lecture you, and I want you to handle this on your own, and not have to go through the awkwardness of coming to me for potion ingredients. They're stored in my closet--"

"You've made an assumption," she cut in finally. "An erroneous one."

"Really," he said, and there was just the smallest hint of impatience and disbelief in his tone.

She raised her chin. "Yes, you have."

Bill sighed. "I know where my brother slept last night."

Hermione felt herself blushing at Bill's blunt statement and the obvious implication behind his words. She knew she had nothing to be embarrassed about, and she was slightly furious with Bill for luring her out here to nose into her personal life, but mostly she was angry at herself for letting what he was saying get to her. Frustrated, she snapped back, "And where he's sleeping tonight, for that matter, and every night after. And it's none of your business."

She stood abruptly. She needed to step away and cool off, get back in control of herself.

"Wait, Hermione, wait," Bill said calmly. "Please sit down."

She glared at him and replied coolly, "If you don't mind, I've got a few things to finish inside."

"I apologize," Bill said simply. "I didn't intend to offend you, or to pry."

Hermione took a deep, steadying breath and considered for a moment, then sat back down. "I suspect the part about prying isn't quite true," she said bluntly. "But I do believe that you weren't being intentionally offensive."

Bill smiled. "You're probably right on both counts."

They sat in silence for a few moments and Hermione began to feel somewhat embarrassed at her outburst. Bill was prying, but Ron was his younger brother. He probably couldn't help it. And she sensed that Bill wasn't intending to upset her, either, but she wasn't remotely comfortable discussing any of this with him.

"You and I have always got along, and I always enjoy our conversations on holidays or whenever we've run into each other," Bill began. "But the strange thing is, I think I know you a bit better than you know me. I've been hearing an awful lot about Hermione Granger for years now, you understand. Ginny's constantly talking about you -- you, the boys she won't admit to liking, what a prat Ron is, how annoying Mum can be, school, and you. Ron talks about you and Harry. Mum talks about all of you. Dad wishes he could get you to take him on a tour of the entire Muggle world, electric plugs and all. The twins even mention you from time to time. You're a part of this family now, and even though I'm away, I get all the family news. But I suspect you don't hear nearly so much about me; I'm just Ron's annoying oldest brother."

"Well, Mrs. Weasley has quite a bit to say about your hair," Hermione said, smiling in spite of herself. "I do hear a lot about that."

Bill laughed. "So do I. But you see what I'm saying? I don't know you very well personally, Hermione, but your reputation with the people I *do* know speaks for you. I know you're incredibly smart, and loyal. And I know you care very much about Harry, and Ron, and Ginny, and all of our family. And I know about your parents, and how hard that must have been for you."

Hermione looked down. "I'm glad my parents are in hiding, Bill. Even if I never see them again, I know they're safe. That's all that matters."

"I know. I know that about you. And I respect you for it very much. I respect your decisions."

She met his gaze with her own and shook her head a little. "Thank you. But in this case, I haven't made the kind of decision you're assuming I have," she said quietly. "I don't mean to get angry at you, but I feel like your attitude about this is putting too much pressure on me. And on Ron."

Bill frowned, and seemed to consider his words very carefully before speaking. "Then I suppose I may have assumed more than I should have, and I am sorry if that offended you."

"You don't have to apologize," she said, feeling ashamed for having made such an issue of it.

"I appreciate that. But, Hermione," he said carefully, "what concerns me is that my brother may be making the same assumptions that I have. I promise to mind my own business on this from now on, but in good conscience I have to ask, is it clear to him? Does he know what kind of expectations he should have, and not have? I'm trying not to be too frank, but Hermione, when you invite a man to sleep in your bed, you're opening the door to something more than friendship."

She felt herself mentally flinch away from his words; she didn't want to examine them, she'd tried not to look too closely at her own thoughts and feelings before and she'd been succeeding... until now. She took a deep breath.

"Ron knows how I feel about him," she said finally. "And as for the rest... I'm being as honest with him as I'm able, Bill. I don't have all the answers yet either. And I won't be pushed into coming up with them all right now. I'm not ready. Neither is he."

Bill held her gaze for a few moments and then nodded. "Alright. Thank you for hearing me out."

"I'm sorry if I overreacted earlier," she said.

"You didn't. It's an uncomfortable conversation, no two ways around it," he said with a smile. "But it's part of the job. Not just the job Dumbledore gave me, but the job of being a big brother. No matter how old he gets, Ron's always going to be my youngest brother. I'll never stop feeling, deep down, that I should be looking out for him."

"I can understand that," Hermione said.

Bill gave her an affectionate look. "And for you. Imagine, I've only had Ginny to smother with big brotherly protectiveness all these years, and I had to share the job with five other blokes, at that. I've been just longing to sit some fellow down and read him the riot act... so don't think it'll stop me if it's Ron, on your behalf, just because he's a relative and all."

She laughed, touched. "I'll keep that in mind. But don't worry. We'll work it out. We always do."

"I know you do." Bill stood and took out his wand, casting a quick Imperturbable spell. He gestured for her to follow him. "So, let's get to work."

She took out her own wand and crossed the yard to the nearest hedges. "You're thinking of wards for security?"

He shook his head. "Not exactly. I'm thinking more about privacy. I'd like to be able to put a silencing spell around the yard, but ideally it would only work in one direction. In other words, no one would be able to hear us, but we'd be able to hear everything. It's a bit of a variation, but I think a safer one."

"I think that sounds like an excellent idea," Hermione agreed. "I've read about one-way Imperturbable spells, but haven't ever seen one used in an open area. Will you teach me?"

"Absolutely," Bill replied. "Eventually I'd like Neville and Ron to learn it as well. We won't leave the charm up all the time, but it would be best for us all to be in the habit of casting it whenever we're out in the yard together. I don't want the neighbors to overhear anything suspicious."

She nodded absentmindedly.

"Bill, about the potion ingredients," she said quietly. "Thank you. If I... if I do need them, thank you."

He pulled her into a loose, one-armed hug. "You're welcome. I respect your privacy, Hermione, and whatever decisions you make are your own. Just remember that if you ever do need to talk to me about anything, that'll still be true."

"I know," she said gratefully. "That much I do know about you."

* * * * *

Ron joined them in the yard a short while later, sprawling on the grass and indulging in his habitual post-meal lassitude. Bill had successfully crafted the spell and was teaching it to Hermione.

She lost herself in the excitement of learning something new, a spell she'd read about and imagined the practical uses for -- though she'd certainly never included "hiding from a world gone mad" in her list of possible situations, of course. She studied the wrist motion Bill made and then mimicked it, facing each of the four corners of the yard in turn. Finally, she pointed her wand straight up into the sky and said, "Excludo."

There was a brief shimmering but no further indication of whether the spell had been successful or not. "Let me check. Keep talking," Bill said, jogging back into the house.

"Think it worked?" Hermione said.

Ron didn't move or even open his eyes. "I'm sure it did."

She frowned. "Are you even paying attention, Ron?"

"Sure I am."

"Fine, what did I just ask you?"

He yawned. "Who knows? Whatever it was, the answer is yes."

"Really? What if I said, Will you wait on me hand and foot for the next twenty-four hours? Would the answer still be yes?" she asked. "Somehow I doubt it."

Ron rolled over on his side and grinned lazily. "Well, it depends on how nicely you asked something like that. I might surprise you; it sounds like fun."

Hermione felt flustered and looked away. Unlike some pale-skinned, red-headed folk she knew, she didn't blush in the same telltale manner when she was embarrassed. Over the years she'd thanked her lucky stars for that fact more than once: if Ron only knew how often he could get her all in a tizzy, to borrow a phrase of her father's...

Not missing a beat, she replied, "Ronald, I'm already shocked that you're awake and coherent this soon after a meal. I can only take so many life-altering revelations in a day."

"I wouldn't go so far as to say coherent," he mumbled, yawning again. "Though it's kind of you to say so."

"My pleasure," she said absently, as Bill came back into the yard. "Well?"

"Were you talking the whole time?" he asked. They nodded. "Well, I couldn't hear you from the house, or from the other side of the hedge."

Hermione looked worried. "Did you sneak into a neighbor's yard?"

"No, there's a small gap in between our hedges and their fence. So it worked. Congratulations, Hermione."

She smiled, pleased.

Bill perched on a battered old patio chair. "We should make an effort to meet the neighbors sometime today, or tomorrow at the latest, though," he said. "One of them at least, so that word will get around we're not strange reclusive folk who stay in their house and never work or go to school or anything."

Hermione agreed. "I was thinking along those lines myself. What are we going to tell them about who we are?"

"The easiest lie to tell is always the truth. Or close to it. This is my house. Ron's my younger brother, you're his friends, and we'll say you're all starting university soon and renting out rooms with me," Bill said.

"Hmmm..." Hermione pondered. "That's not bad. Why'd you move here?"

Bill thought hard for a moment as well. "How about, my wife just left me and I had to find a place of my own?"

"Not bad," she said, nodding. "Nice and gossipy. People like to get a bit of juicy gossip about someone new, and then they won't look any further."

Ron sat up. "Bill, I've been meaning to ask -- wait, can we really talk about this back here? We could be overheard."

Bill gave him a 'you're-really-rather-dim-aren't-you' kind of look. "Did you not just hear me tell Hermione her spell worked?"

"Well, of course it worked. Her spells always work. So?"

Hermione interrupted them. "It was a spell to prevent anyone from overhearing us back here, Ron. We can speak freely. He wasn't thinking of anything but digestion when he came out here," she explained to Bill.

"Try to broaden your horizons a little, Ronniekins."

Ron waved a rude gesture in his brother's general direction. "Whatever. My point was, you said something about not really working. So, we don't have to work?"

Bill frowned. "Well... I thought we'd settle in a bit first, but it might not be a terrible idea for me to get some kind of job, part time at least, if at all possible. Just to blend in. This is a middle-class kind of neighborhood; people work for a living around here. And like Hermione said, people love to gossip. I don't want to give them something to wonder about."

"But that's the only reason?"

"Pretty much."

"I think what Ron's asking about is, aren't we eventually going to need money?" Hermione asked. "The self-replenishing supplies are wonderful, but there are so many more expenses that come with living in the Muggle world. The household utilities, for example. Personal expenses when we do leave the house. That kind of thing."

"Ah," Bill said, comprehending. "I see what you mean. Well, the household expenses are all paid for and not our concern. As for other expenses -- I have a substantial amount of Muggle money, in cash; it was with our supplies on the train. There's enough that should last us awhile. But there's no harm in trying to earn a little more, just to be safe."

Ron looked baffled. "That's great and all, and I'm not complaining, but where in blazes did that money come from? And who's paying the bills?"

Bill hesitated, and in that moment, Neville came bursting out into the yard.

"Guess... guess what?" he said, panting slightly. "It's Fred!"

"Fred? He's here?!" Ron said, jumping up and striding towards the house.

Neville shook his head. "In the Floo, of course."

Hermione trailed after the two Weasleys, both eager to talk to their brother. She and Neville exchanged a happy smile and went into the sitting room. Ron and Bill were standing in front of the fireplace, almost blocking Fred's face from view.

"...went off without a hitch on my end, as well," Fred was saying. "No complaints. I was telling Remus that -- Hermione!" he broke off with a grin, spotting her as she sat on the couch. "Ah, and Neville. Wonderful to see you both."

She smiled. "You as well."

Fred gave Bill a speculative look. "I can't believe I didn't get you to take that bet."

"We've heard all about it," Hermione said, cutting him off. "I did just say I was glad to see you, didn't I? Don't make me regret it already."

Ron was still scowling, but the other two Weasleys laughed.

"Good for you, Hermione," Fred said. "You'll keep this lot on their toes, won't you? We won't worry about a thing."

"Is everyone with you alright?" she said hopefully.

Fred nodded. "Sure they are. I've got Padma Patil and Dean Thomas here with me, and they're both just fine. Padma wanted to wait and go with her sister," Fred confessed, "but ultimately she understood we needed to stick to the plan. Unlike some people, apparently."

"It wasn't his fault, actually," Bill admitted. "Remus was in Diagon Alley when the attack began, he got held up and didn't get to Ron in time, so he came with me."

"Remus told me. Well, you were lucky to get away when you did, so that's all that matters," Fred said. "I can't believe the old place is gone."

Bill sighed. "I know."

Hermione glanced at Ron. He was tense and mute, obviously desperate to hear news of their family but too keyed up to put his question into words.

Luckily, Bill asked for them both. "Fred, we got word that Ginny's okay, with McGonagall. And there was a letter here from Charlie. Have you got news of anyone else?"

"Mum and Dad are okay," Fred said, and Bill grinned in relief.

Ron took a great gasping breath and sat ungracefully on the floor in front of the fireplace. "Thank Merlin," he said finally. "You're sure?"

Fred nodded. "I am, really. I don't know where they are; they wouldn't tell me. But they talked to me via Floo last night and they're both okay, worried about all of us, of course. Mum's upset that she can't just Floo everyone, but apparently the Order didn't even want any contact at all from wherever she is. She kept insisting and they agreed she could contact one of us, to spread the word." He grinned. "She also said a lot of mushy mumbly stuff about all of her babies and so on and so forth... want me to repeat it?"

Ron and Bill both grimaced. "No, that's okay. We get the picture."

Fred sighed and his normally whimsical expression disappeared. "I don't suppose there's any chance you've heard from George?"

"No," Bill said. "You haven't?"

"No. Not yet," Fred added, with a strange tone to his voice.

Hermione glanced at Neville; he looked surprised as well. Somehow, despite the situation they were in and the way everyone had been pulled apart and scattered every which way... it just didn't seem possible that Fred and George had been split up. Didn't even know where their other half was. It was mind-boggling. The clever and sometimes devious Weasley twins had been inseparable from the moment they were born, everyone knew that. There was no one else like them, for better or for worse, except each other... She couldn't wrap her mind around the look on Fred's face as he asked for news of his twin.

Both Ron and Bill looked equally worried. "He'll check in," Bill said, trying to reassure them all. "He probably already has and word hasn't gotten around yet."

"Of course," Fred said distractedly. He took a deep breath. "There's some bad news outside the family, though."

Hermione tensed.

"Tonks ran into trouble. The Creeveys."

Bill frowned. "Which one was she picking up?"

"The younger one. Dennis. She picked up Loony -- I mean, Luna Lovegood -- first, no problem. And I guess McGonagall came and got the older brother. Colin, right? After she got Ginny. So right after they left, apparently, Tonks came for Dennis and -- they were attacked."

Hermione was startled when Bill slumped abruptly in a chair. His face was white. "What happened," he said in a quiet voice.

Fred gave him a sympathetic look, one Hermione didn't entirely understand. "Tonks made it. She's quick, you know? She fought back fast and hard. But there were two Death Eaters. While she was fighting one and protecting Luna... they got the boy."

Bill put his head in his hands. Ron coughed nervously.

"They... they got him? Did they take him, or..."

"He's dead, Ron."

Hermione flinched. The words were so cold and strange, it didn't seem possible that Fred Weasley was saying these things to them. She looked at his face glowing in the fireplace, though, and she knew that those words were even more difficult for him to say than they were for them to hear.

"I don't remember him," Fred said. "Padma said he was always with his brother, just like him, I guess, thought Hogwarts was heaven on earth and that Harry Potter walked on water, kind of a, you know, geeky little kid... but he was a Gryffindor, you know?"

No one said anything. Hermione remembered Dennis Creevey. He'd fallen in the lake on his first trip to Hogwarts and she could still picture his beaming face, hair plastered to his forehead, drowning in Hagrid's coat, looking for all the world like he'd just won the lottery.

"Does Colin know?" Neville asked.

Fred nodded. "Poor kid."

Bill sat up. His eyes were dry but he still looked pale. "Tonks got out?"

"Yeah. She -- she grabbed Luna and got the hell out of there on the Portkey, picked up Susan Bones and got to her safehouse okay. Remus talked to her. She's, well, she's blaming herself."

"She shouldn't," Hermione said quickly. "Oh, no, she shouldn't."

Bill gave her a grateful look and nodded. "No, of course she shouldn't. We all knew the odds were against us. In some ways... we're lucky it hasn't been... Shit, I don't want to say that..."

Hermione knew what he meant. They could have lost more. They still could lose more. They had been lucky so far... but oh, that poor boy.

They could still lose more.

She turned and found Ron watching her across the room, his face blank but his eyes worried. She stood, crossing to him and taking his hand in hers. We're still here, she told herself. And we're together. Thank god we're together.