Scattered

"You're concerned about Winky and the other elves, aren't you?"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Weasley--"

"It really would be fine for you to call me Arthur," he said, smiling.

Hermione shook her head. "I just can't," she said, smiling back. "Mum had this thing about never referring to your elders by their first names. She said it was a gesture of admiration and respect and... I have both for you and Mrs. Weasley."

"Thank you, Hermione," he said, looking at her fondly. "If you don't know it already, we have both for you as well."

She nodded, moved.

"But I know you're troubled, and I want you to feel that you can speak freely with us, with me, as well."

Hermione felt ashamed. She didn't want to seem as if she was criticizing anything the Weasleys had done, not in any way. They were wonderful people, some of the best people she knew. What's more, they were Ron and Ginny's parents, and they'd treated her like a daughter. She loved them both, and she really did respect them.

Earlier at dinner she'd shared her news about Winky, and about Dobby being with Harry. Ron, as well as Bill and Charlie, had been glad to hear even the smallest amount of news about their friend. Mr. Weasley had confirmed that Dobby was indeed "taking care of Harry Potter", and that he'd been to the castle a few weeks ago.

"If Dobby was here, why couldn't Harry come?" Ron had asked. "Even just for a little while?"

But Mr. Weasley had shaken his head. "He can't right now. That's all I can tell you," he'd added regretfully. "Try to focus on the positive: getting word through Dobby was a good thing, and it should reassure you that Harry is doing okay."

Hermione had known, though, that Ron was anything but reassured. She watched him, now, playing Exploding Snap with his brothers across the room. He seemed relaxed, but she'd seen his face light up when she'd mentioned Harry's name, and she knew the situation was eating away at him. Truth be told, she wasn't feeling too good about it herself.

For the past several months they'd been in this strange whirlwind, never knowing what was coming next, never really having all the pieces of the puzzle at once. The train rides, the safehouse... trying to blend in the Muggle world, having no idea of how long they'd be living in it. And then Neville's death, and coming here... though there'd been long, slow days of little to do, at the safehouse, in some ways it felt as if they'd been constantly moving since that day in July, always on the run, with hardly any time to think about the bigger picture. They'd resisted the urge to run after Harry before because they didn't know how, and because the world had turned too upside-down for them second-guess the elaborate plans that had been crafted for their safety. But now, here they were, safe and secure, no more running in their future and the difficult knowledge that Harry was still out there, doing what they'd sworn to do with him.

Knowing Mr. Weasley was still waiting for an answer, she shook her head and shoved those thoughts into the back of her mind. "I'm sorry, Mr. Weasley. I know that there are bigger things going on right now. I still think it's wrong, though, to enslave another creature the way wizards have enslaved house-elves."

He nodded thoughtfully. "I understand."

Hermione sighed and looked away, still feeling uncomfortable. It was one thing to challenge your enemies, and a far more difficult thing to challenge the ones you loved... isn't that what Professor Dumbledore had always said?

Across the common room, Mrs. Weasley and Penny were deep in conversation. Penny caught Hermione's eye and winked when her mother-in-law wasn't looking; Hermione grinned back, guessing that Penny was getting the third degree but keeping a good sense of humor about it. As she watched, the older girl stood and excused herself, crossing over to where the boys were starting up a new game. Mrs. Weasley watched her go and then, shaking her head, came to join her husband and Hermione.

"I do wish Penny would take more caution with those potions she's been brewing," Mrs. Weasley said with a frown. "The fumes could be very bad for her."

"I'm sure she's being quite careful," Mr. Weasley reassured her. "Don't worry too much, Molly."

"Well, I'll worry if I want to," she replied good-naturedly. "What were you two talking about over here? Hermione, dear, he's not still forcing you to tell him about ekletricity again, is he?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, but I don't mind talking about Muggle things, really."

"Hermione was just talking to me about the house-elves," Mr. Weasley said. "And I was just about to tell her that I agree with her."

"You do?" Hermione couldn't help exclaiming. Embarrassed, she continued, "I mean, I don't mean to sound so surprised, I just--"

"It's alright," he said. "It's not a popular opinion in the wizarding world. But I agree with you, Hermione: it's not right to treat anyone, or any creature, as inferior. That's the kind of thinking that leads to prejudice and bigotry, and has, unfortunately, created the oppression we're faced with now."

Hermione nodded fervently. She'd felt exactly that way for so long, and in all this time, only Professor Lupin had ever really understood and agreed. It was a relief to know that the Weasleys felt the same.

"The elves living here at Liath Cuan are here because they need sanctuary," Mr. Weasley continued. "You know how they would be treated by people like the Malfoys and the Lestranges; they're not safe in that world right now, not any more than we are. So they're welcome here as long as they want to stay."

"Of course," Hermione agreed. "I just..."

"Go ahead."

"I just don't like to think of them feeling as if they have to wait on me, or any of us," Hermione admitted.

Mrs. Weasley nodded. "I know. And they truly don't have to. Did you notice they were all wearing clothes?"

Hermione's mouth dropped open; she clapped a hand there, her eyes wide. "They... they were! I must not have realized... but that means they're all free!"

"Yes," Mrs. Weasley agreed. "They are. But dearest, they're only happy because, when we freed them, we promised they could continue to serve us as they wanted to do. They won't accept wages."

Hermione sighed. It was just as Professor Lupin had said. The elves didn't want the freedom she was so eager to get for them. There didn't seem to be any way to change that, no matter how hard she tried.

"Thank you, Mrs. Weasley," she said finally, "for trying. And for freeing them. I... I'm glad they're here, and that they're safe. That's what's important, most of all."

"It's what makes this all worth it," Mrs. Weasley said, her gaze turning toward her sons and her voice dropping to a soft, low whisper. "Keeping people safe." She looked back at Hermione, then, and smiled. "Speaking of, I wanted to give you some good news, dear. Ginny will be here tomorrow."

Hermione felt a warm rush of gladness and couldn't help but grin widely. "Tomorrow? Definitely?"

Mrs. Weasley nodded. "Yes. We've had word. Tomorrow morning."

"That's the best news I've heard in a long time," Hermione said. She turned to find Ron; she couldn't wait to tell him the news...

"WHAT?!" Ron bellowed just then, causing everyone else's eyes to turn to him as well.

Ron, Bill and Charlie were still seated around the table they'd been playing Exploding Snap at, but Percy was standing, his arm around Penny. The two of them were smiling hugely; Charlie was snickering, but Ron and Bill, on the other hand, looked shocked.

Hermione stood, concerned, but then Mr. Weasley coughed quietly and Hermione saw the twinkle in his eyes and in Mrs. Weasley's smile, and she knew what had dumbfounded the Weasley boys.

"Hermione!" Ron yelled, swiveling around to locate her. "Percy just... he just said..."

"That you're going to become an uncle?" Hermione said in a casual tone, though she was struggling not to laugh at his expression. "That's nice, isn't it?"

Ron stared at her as if she'd grown tentacles on her head. "But... but..." he sputtered.

"I think it's nice," Charlie said smugly. "Not sure why Ronniekins doesn't."

"I didn't say it wasn't nice!" Ron shot back.

"Well, you haven't said it was," Hermione told him reasonably. She crossed over to him and put a placating hand on his arm. "Which isn't very polite."

Bill suddenly guffawed. "You knew?"

She smiled.

"You must have told her," Charlie said to Penny.

Penny beamed, but shook her head. "No, Percy did, the sneak. Beat me to it."

Bill stood and gave Penny a warm but careful embrace. "Congratulations." He turned and slapped Percy on the back, grinning. Percy, flushing with pride, ducked his head.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley came over; Mrs. Weasley put a motherly arm around Penny and Mr. Weasley just smiled, looking happier than Hermione had ever seen him.

She turned to look at Ron again, chuckling finally at his dumbstruck state. "Earth to Ron?"

He met her eyes, then, and she smiled at him encouragingly. He gave her a small smile back and then stepped forward to hug Penny. "It really is nice," he said.

Penny laughed. "I think so too."

Ron and Percy faced each other silently. Percy was still grinning broadly, and Ron didn't seem to know what to say or do. He held out his hand and Percy took it; a moment later, though, Ron was giving his older brother a rough embrace, thumping him on the shoulders and laughing.

"You still are a sneak," Ron said with a chuckle. "Penny's right."

"She always is," Percy agreed readily.

They settled happily onto sofas and chairs, everyone talking at once and laughing. Hermione looked around the room and tried hard not to miss the people who weren't there and should have been, the people who were missing, the people who were gone forever. There'll be more happy days like this one, she thought. We'll make sure there will. Or else it's all been for nothing.

"When is the baby due?" she heard Bill ask.

"In early April. I'm about four months along right now," Penny replied.

"Mum, Dad, how long have you known?" Bill asked.

"Since the day the Ministry fell," Molly said, and for a moment her eyes looked sad. Mr. Weasley reached out and took her hand, though, and she smiled again. "You see, the day before, I got an owl from Percy. It was, well, it was the first real owl you'd sent in a long time, dear."

Percy nodded, looking grave. "I know, Mum. I'm sorry about that."

"It's in the past now," she assured him.

Hermione knew Mrs. Weasley wasn't lying; she really had forgiven Percy for their estrangement. She could tell from the look on Percy's face, however, that he hadn't entirely forgiven himself.

"I should have told you when I -- when Penny and I -- got married," Percy muttered, looking ashamed. "You should have been there."

Mrs. Weasley frowned and sighed. "Yes, I should have. But let's not focus on that. I'm just glad you owled me when you did."

"When Percy and I found out about the baby, we knew it was time to be with family again," Penny said. Hermione knew, even though most of the other people in the room probably did not, that Penny had been trying to encourage Percy to contact his parents again all along. She loved him too much, though, to point the finger of blame at him now. "So we sent an owl to Mum, and she agreed to meet us in Diagon Alley."

Mrs. Weasley nodded, smiling; you could easily see how fond she was of Penny. Hermione was suddenly sure that at least one other person knew how hard Penny had worked to bring the family back together.

"They'd just given me the good news when, well, there was yelling and running," Mrs. Weasley said. "It was all so confusing, and I couldn't see what was going on. Then I felt the Charm of Remembrance being cast, and I knew what to do." She took Penny's and Percy's hands in her own, squeezing them tightly. "Thank goodness you were with me. I can't say it often enough."

Hermione leaned back against Ron's arm and watched them. She couldn't resist the feeling of longing that swept through her; no matter how kind Mrs. Weasley was to her, sometimes she missed her own mother like an ache, deep inside her heart.

"Since we're all sitting here together, there are a few things I'd like to talk about," Mr. Weasley said mildly.

They all gave him their attention.

"Bill, Ron, Hermione... I wanted to explain to you, as best I can, the current status of things. The others have heard this already, and of course your mother -- Mrs. Weasley -- knows everything that I do. I can't tell you everything right now; too much is still in motion. But at least I can fill you in on what our current operation is."

"Are you talking about the Order of the Phoenix?" Ron asked.

His father nodded. "Yes. In a sense, the Order has grown, now, to encompass all of us; anyone we were able to save, all of those loyal to Albus Dumbledore and who oppose Voldemort. All of those people, the Aurors, the Ministry workers, students like yourselves, the McFustys... soon they will all be living on Liath Cuan. This is the Order's new base of operations, for the foreseeable future. But it's not just a headquarters," he said gently, looking at each of them in turn, "and it's not temporary. I want to make sure you understand that. This is... home."

Bill nodded readily. "We understand."

"Mr. Weasley?" Hermione asked. "Who's in charge of the Order now?"

He smiled and looked a bit embarrassed; she recognized the expression as one Ron often had, when he was pleased and proud and serious, but felt unworthy at the same time. "Well, it turns out that I am," he said. "At least for now."

Hermione couldn't help but be a bit surprised. True, no one could doubt Mr. Weasley's intelligence, or his compassion or his heart, but... well, actually, the more she thought about it, the more sense it made, really. She'd just expected the new Head of the Order to be someone powerful, one of the Aurors, maybe. Or McGonagall, or Lupin. But Mr. Weasley was probably the best person for the job, really, when all was said and done. He might have a child-like fascination with plugs, and he might seem henpecked at times, but he'd chosen an excellent woman as his wife, he'd raised a brood of exceptional children at her side, and he was liked and respected by every member of the Order. Who better to lead them, especially in times like these?

"Well," Ron said finally, "Dumbledore was a little batty, too, after all."

There was a brief silence and then everyone laughed, Mr. Weasley the hardest.

"Why did you say 'at least for now', Dad?" Bill asked, when everyone had settled down again.

Mr. Weasley sighed, losing the last traces of mirth. "I'm Head of the Order here on Liath Cuan," he said. "But when -- if -- the Order operates outside of the island, at some point in the future, then... Harry is in charge."

Hermione thought hard, trying to understand what Mr. Weasley was saying. Why would Harry be taking over the Order if they left Liath Cuan? Unless...

"You mean, if there's war again. If we fight," Ron said, coming to the same conclusion she had.

Mrs. Weasley turned away. Mr. Weasley took his wife's hand, lightly rubbing her knuckles with his thumb. He looked directly at Ron, though, and answered him honestly. "Yes."

Everyone was quiet again.

"So, tomorrow's a big day," Mr. Weasley continued finally, "and I just wanted to go over everything with you. First off, Charlie is going to be leaving early in the morning; he's got a few things to do for the Order."

Charlie nodded, looking confident. Bill gave his brother a nudge and grinned reassurance. Mrs. Weasley, on the other hand, paled.

"Minerva McGonagall is scheduled to arrive at Liath Cuan in the morning," Mr. Weasley continued, "and she'll be bringing Ginny with her."

Hermione felt Ron take a long, deep breath of relief. She smiled, touched. She knew that Ron felt, deep down in his very bones, very protective of his little sister. He felt that Ginny -- and Hermione herself, for that matter -- were his to take care of; it was so intrinsic to his personality that she knew not to take offense. He respected their abilities; he had faith in them both. But on the most basic, primitive level, he felt responsible for them regardless. And he blamed himself when either of them was in harm's way. She loved him for caring so much, and she was glad, for his sake as well as for her own, that Ginny would be with them soon, safe and sound.

"As well, Minerva will bring with her Justin Finch-Fletchley and Colin Creevey. Which leads me to something I want you all to take part in tomorrow evening.

"When we first arrived at the island, we had a small service for the professors who died during the attack at Hogwarts. Tomorrow, we're going to have a funeral service for Neville and for Colin's brother, Dennis, as well. We wanted to wait until Colin was here, and you all, of course, for Neville."

Hermione glanced at Bill and he nodded; he'd promised her that they would honor Neville's memory, when the time came. "I'm glad we're having a memorial," she said softly. "I've been... I've been thinking of Neville's parents. They'll never really know, will they?"

Mr. Weasley shook his head. "No, not really. But try to think of it as a kindness," he said. "They're safe and cared-for at St. Mungo's, and while they missed out on seeing their son grow up to be a wonderful young man, they won't mourn for him now, either."

She knew he was right. "What about Neville's grandmother, though? Do we have any idea where she is? She should be here, too; maybe be should wait until she's here..."

It was Mrs. Weasley who answered her, as kindly as possible. "Hermione, I'm afraid Mrs. Longbottom passed away just a few short weeks after you all went into the safehouse. We wanted to tell Neville, but she'd left instructions not to, not until he was safe again. She didn't want to upset him while he was in danger."

"And so he never knew, either," Hermione whispered sadly. "I guess it's just as well."

"What happened?" Bill asked, his voice slightly strained. "She wasn't attacked, was she?"

Mr. Weasley shook his head. "No, she wasn't. She died in St. Mungo's. Mrs. Longbottom was rather ill, and she knew, apparently, that she didn't have long. She already had all her affairs in order, and when you took Neville to safety, she went to St. Mungo's. They made her as comfortable as possible for her last days," he added kindly.

It was Penny who broke the sad lull that followed Mr. Weasley's words; she drew Charlie and Bill into a discussion about the baby's nursery, asking for their advice on the best raw material for transfiguring a crib and a highchair. Soon she and Percy led them away to inspect the castle's storerooms, leaving Ron and Hermione alone with the elder Weasleys.

"There's something I wanted to talk to you about, Hermione," Mr. Weasley said when they were alone. "Well, two things, really."

"What is it?" she asked, startled. "Are my parents okay?"

"No, it's not about your parents."

"Good," she said, relieved.

"It's about you, actually," he continued. "Now, there's no reason to be alarmed or to worry, but we felt it was important for you to know what's going on. Because it's imperative, Hermione, that you stay here at Liath Cuan. This is the only place you'll be safe."

Hermione glanced at Ron nervously. She didn't want to leave the island; she hadn't felt this safe in months... maybe years. But the truth was, ever since their arrival there'd been a small voice, in the back of her head, saying that they should go. Saying that Harry needed them and that they were letting him down, going back on their word, but hiding here in safety while he was in danger. Just in the past few hours, she'd thought, We could leave tonight. There's got to be a way that Winky could lead us to Dobby, and then to Harry... She didn't want to leave. She wanted Harry to be there with them, she wanted everyone she loved to be safe and secure. But it wasn't an answer. They couldn't just hide here on the island forever. Voldemort had to be stopped, and destroyed. And it wasn't fair to expect Harry to take on that burden all alone.

"What do you mean, Dad? Aren't we all safer here?" Ron asked. She could feel the tension in his body, the worry and fear. She'd felt it in him for months now, and she'd hoped that here, on the island, he'd find a way to let it go.

"Yes, we all are. But... Hermione, I'm afraid Lucius Malfoy has publicly blamed you for Draco's death. There are warrants out for your arrest... or for your death."

"What?!" Ron yelled, leaping off the sofa. "That bastard. I'll kill him."

"Ronald!" his mother said sharply.

Hermione slowly stood and crossed to where Ron was, his fists clenched and his face screwed up in a furious scowl. She placed one hand on his chest and cupped the other against his face. He swiveled to look at her, his eyes wild. She met his gaze steadily, not saying a word.

After a moment, Ron took a deep breath and his shoulders slumped. He sank back down, rubbing his hands over his face. "Sorry, Mum."

"It's... it's okay, son," she said shakily.

Hermione sat down again. Ron was sullenly silent. Mrs. Weasley was watching him with a wary expression on her face. Her eyes lifted to meet Hermione's, and a strange moment of understanding passed between them.

"Unfortunately," Mr. Weasley continued, "Lucius Malfoy has also taken this matter to the Muggle Prime Minister as well, so you're wanted by their police also. I'm afraid it's rather like what happened when Sirius escaped from Azkaban: there's no where you could go, in Britain or anywhere close, where you wouldn't be spotted and caught. And despite being the brilliant girl that you are, my dear, I know you're not an Animagus as Sirius was. They'd find you all too quickly. Lucius Malfoy is determined, and right now he has the power of both the Wizarding and the Muggle worlds behind him."

"I suppose it doesn't matter to anyone that I didn't do anything to Draco?" Hermione said somewhat bitterly. "That it's hardly my fault that his own curse rebounded on him? Doesn't it matter that he'd just killed Neville?" She stopped abruptly, trying to calm the sad fury running through her body. She sighed, finally, and grimaced, knowing the answers to her own questions. "But of course, they don't know anything about Neville, do they? They've just got Theodore Nott telling them what happened, and I'm sure his version of events has little similarity to what really happened."

Mr. Weasley nodded. "That's exactly it, I'm afraid. Lucius and his Ministry is claiming that you attacked Draco unprovoked, and that's the story they're spreading. Nott's all too happy to go along with it; in fact, he's saying he only got there in time to see you kill Draco, and that you Apparated away before he could do anything."

"Because otherwise Lucius might blame him somehow," Hermione filled in, "for letting his son die."

"I'm sure that's Mr. Nott's main concern."

Hermione remained silent, taking this all in.

"So you see, my dear, it would be very dangerous for you to leave the island. I know you want to go out there and help Harry," Mr. Weasley said, "but it would be too risky, for both you and Harry. His mission is too critical to be jeopardized by anything. And I'm afraid, if you were to join him, it would put him in more danger."

Hermione looked carefully at Mr. Weasley's kind, compassionate face. "You know that's the one argument that can dissuade me from going, don't you," she said a little resentfully.

"Yes."

Beside her, Ron snorted.

She shot him an annoyed look. "If I'm not going, neither are you, you know."

He looked up, and all the anger and the frustration was gone from his face. All that remained was the love she'd grown accustomed to. "I know," he said quietly.

"For what it's worth, you two, you'd never find him in any case," Mr. Weasley said with a gentle smile. "That's no slur on your abilities or your dedication. Alastor Moody and Harry himself have made quite sure that no one can find them. Winky wouldn't be able to help you, either, if that's what you were thinking. They've made sure they're untraceable. I'm sorry, but it has to be this way, for now."

Mrs. Weasley leaned forward and clasped her husband's hand. "Hermione, I hope, aside from your understandable concern about Harry," and here her voice broke slightly; Hermione knew how much Mrs. Weasley worried about him, as if he were her own son, "that you don't feel it's such a terrible thing, staying here on Liath Cuan. I think... I think you'll like it here, and come to love it here, as we do. I hope you'll all come to think of it as home," she said, smiling at her youngest son as well.

"My father always said, home is where the people you love are. I can't be with my parents right now," Hermione said, "but if the rest of the people I love are here, then this is my home now."

Ron didn't say a word but held her hand tightly. Mr. Weasley patted her shoulder affectionately, his expression proud.

"It's getting late," Mrs. Weasley said as they all stood. She pulled out her wand and began whisking plates into a neat stack and garbage into bins, tables and chairs back into their original positions.

"Do you need any help?" Hermione offered. Behind her, she heard Ron groan. She elbowed him lightly in the ribs. "Shush," she said.

"I'm tired," he whined. "Come on, 'Mione, let's go to bed."

Hermione shot an anxious glance at Mr. Weasley. There's no way he didn't hear that, she thought, slightly panicked. She'd told Ron not to worry about his parents finding out that they were, essentially, living together. And she'd meant it, but she hadn't factored in Ron's habit of speaking out loud. Did it sound as bad as I think it sounded?

But Mr. Weasley just smiled, clapping Ron on the back.

"It's fine, dear," Mrs. Weasley said, finishing and putting her wand away. "Get some rest."

Hermione wished her a goodnight, and turned to Ron's father to do the same.

"There was one other thing," he said, though, before she had a chance. "Something I wanted to ask you. And, if you're not comfortable with it, my dear, it's perfectly alright to say no."

"What is it?" she asked.

"Tomorrow, at the funeral, Colin is going to say a few words about his brother. I was talking to Bill about it earlier, and he suggested I ask you. Would you speak for Neville?"

Hermione felt Ron's strong hand gripping her shoulder and she nodded, tears pricking her eyes. "I'd be honored," she said, and quietly, followed Ron from the room.