With Honor

With Honor

Chapter Four - A Head Girl's Woes

The house shook once, bits of the ceiling crumbling and falling on to their heads.

A loud bang made everyone jump.

The house shook twice, and the crystal chandelier shook dangerously.

Another loud bang, Harry tightened his grip on his wand.

The house shook one last time, and the chandelier fell from the ceiling, shattering and spraying them with shrapnel, Harry felt a piece of glass slice through his skin, but was distracted by a far more dangerous threat.

The door to the living room was blasted open, and Hermione's mum screamed.

"It's the creatures of Hell!" Hermione's grandmother declared loudly.

"Get them out of here!" Harry shouted, turning to face the first wolf that had charged into the suburban home. "Stupefy!"

"Mum, Dad, Grams, Grandpa, come on, follow me..."

Hermione led the way out of the living room, but backed off immediately, letting out a shrill scream.

Another wolf lumbered in, yellowed fangs dripping saliva onto the fur carpet.

Werewolves began charging in now, and Hermione's parents huddled into a corner, terrified. There were at least eight wolves, slowly moving in for the kill.

"Stupefy! Impedimenta! Sectumsempra! Sectumsempra!" Harry yelled, stepping back as more wolves poured through to the boxed living room.

Where is the Order of the Phoenix?

"Harry!" Hermione screamed.

"Incarcerous!" Harry shouted, binding the werewolf diving towards her. But in helping Hermione, it cost him a crucial few seconds where the wolves came charging into the room, one of them knocking into him, slamming him backwards onto a sofa.

Harry felt almost paralyzed, as the yellow fangs came closer to his face. He felt a drop of vile saliva drip on to his nose.

Levicorpus! Harry thought, as he swept his wand up.

The werewolf flew into the air, jerked comically into the air by a paw.

"Sectumsempra," Harry said frantically, slicing the werewolf through the stomach, causing the crazed creature to yelp in pain.

A vase whizzing by Harry's ear caused him to turn around quickly, confused. The second he spent had cost him a bit more ground, as a total of a dozen werewolves now advanced, baring their teeth menacingly.

Slowly, but surely, however, Harry felt himself and Hermione be pushed further and further into the corner of the living room, where Hermione's father was throwing expensive furniture in vain at the advancing wolves. A mahogany chair chipped Harry on the shoulder, and Harry had to resist a temptation to tell the man to make himself useful and stop hurling furniture like it was confetti.

A werewolf pounced, and all thoughts were driven from Harry's mind as he quickly swept his wand upwards to defend.

"Impedimenta! Stupefy! Stupefy! Petrificus Totalus!" Harry panted, backing into Hermione so that they covered each other's backs. There were now ten werewolves left, with at least four or five injured or incapacitated behind them. The remaining ones, however, caused Harry a lot more concern. The eyes of the werewolves suddenly turned red, and they had advanced so close that Harry could see the dirt, grime, and in some cases, blood on their coats.

Where is the damn Order! Harry thought again.

"Hermione... we can't hold them off for long," Harry said, as he caught a wolf with a leg-locker curse, and proceeding to stun it.

"What are these things?" a terrified Mrs. Granger said, her voice shaking badly.

"It's the work of the Devil," Grandpa Granger whispered, sounding awed.

"I'm not leaving them, Harry!" Hermione shouted, after sending two werewolves stumbling backwards, howling as Hermione summoned sharp silver daggers and sent them flying.

"Protego!" Harry shouted, conjuring a small energy shield in front of them. He grimaced as a large grey werewolf clawed at the shield, sending a burst of pain through his arm.

"Get them out, Hermione," he said, gritting his teeth.

"How?"

"Apparate them!"

"But... I can't..."

"Blast the wall down!" Harry said, wincing as he felt his shield weaken again.

"I... I can't... well... REDUCTO!"

A tiny hole appeared in the Grangers' wall.

Harry felt an almighty force smash into his shield, and felt his grasp on the shield vanish.

Harry felt Hermione grab on to his arm, trembling as the wolves advanced.

"REDUCTO!" Harry bellowed, and the wall shattered. He pushed the Grangers out in to the night, and pulled Hermione from the house.

"RUN!" Harry shouted.

"God will deliver us..." the elderly woman said, lifting a hand in prayer.

"God won't save you here," Harry hissed. "Now move, before we're all meat for the wolves."

"God shall protect his faithful," the woman said, refusing to move.

"Are you senile?" Harry roared. "Get the hell out of here before we're..."

Hermione had quickly cut in, motioning for Harry to block off the house and the werewolves' pursuit.

"Run!" Hermione gasped, pushing her parents and grandparents out into the open.

They had not gone ten steps before Harry realized they had made a deadly mistake.

Green and red jets of light came rushing towards them, and Harry knew they had made a lethal mistake.

"Incendio," he said quickly, setting the house ablaze, blocking off the wolves. But as he turned around, he heard screams, as a jet of green light hit the fleeing elderly woman, who fell to the ground immediately.

"No!" Hermione's grandfather roared.

Harry tackled a speechless Hermione to the floor as a jet of green light came blazing towards them.

Come on, where is the Order? They left us here to die?

Another volley of light came flashing towards them, Hermione's grandfather was still crouching over the dead woman, tears running down a lined face.

"You have to leave her! She's dead!" Harry found himself shouting.

"No!"

The old man rose, and armed with nothing but his fists, charged back towards the house towards the wolves, the only attackers he could see.

"Evil creatures!" he shouted, swinging an ancient fist at a wolf that had jumped through the fire. It may have given the wolf a tiny sting on the nose, but in retribution, the old man met a grisly end as wolf upon wolf descended onto him.

Harry grabbed Hermione, and covered her eyes. He stared, transfixed, unable to tear his eyes away from the grisly sight of wolves tearing the old man's arm right off, before he wrenched his gaze away, still maintaining a stranglehold on Hermione, who was flailing madly.

The elderly man let out a bloodcurdling scream that seemed unnaturally loud for a man of his age, but before his scream was over, the there was a sickening ripping sound, and the scream instantly died out.

It was a moment longer before Harry regained his senses, and still holding Hermione tightly, he pulled her away from the scene, clapping one hand over her eyes. The wolves, momentarily all dominated by their bloodlust, were occupied by the now unmistakably dead man.

Harry turned around, looking for Hermione's parents but finding them nowhere in sight.

"Mr. Granger! Mrs. Granger!"

There was no response, and Harry, with Hermione still forcefully held with one arm, looked around to no avail.

A jet of green light barely missed them by inches.

"Mr. Granger! Mrs. Granger!" he roared as loud as he could.

Another spell barely missed him, as he crashed to the ground, tackling Hermione down with him.

He swore, and with no other path to turn to as everywhere he turned he saw danger, with no sign of Mr. or Mrs. Granger, he focused hard on the Burrow's garden, apparating himself and Hermione out of the chaos.

Arriving, he fell to the soft grass with a thump, shaken by what he had just seen.

"H-h-Harry?" Hermione stuttered. "My parents... my grandparents... where..."

"I'm sorry," Harry said numbly, exhausted and covered in wolf blood. He wondered vaguely if some of that blood was from Hermione's grandfather, and his stomach gave another lurch. He vomited his birthday dinner all over the garden as he remembered the man's gruesome end. He felt another lurch as he wondered if Hermione would blame him for leaving behind her parents, who Harry knew were, by all odds, dead.

"Scourgify," he muttered, disgusted with himself. "Where the hell was the Order of the Phoenix when we needed them."

"Here," a deep voice said, looking down at Harry. Harry looked slowly up, and rose to his feet so that he was eye-level with the man speaking.

"Kingsley Shacklebolt," said Harry coldly. Harry's disgust with himself for leaving Hermione's parents behind evaporated as he looked around at the crowd of wizards and witches, all dressed in clean robes, looking perfectly at peace... "And look, it's the rest of you. Enjoying dinner? Perhaps a little desert? Refreshments? A god damned foot massage and some Relaxation Droughts for your comfort maybe?"

"Harry!" a voice shouted, as Ginny came into sight, pushing past Kingsley and bending down towards Harry. "Oh, Harry, what happened, are you all right, I was so worried, I... you're covered in blood!"

Harry allowed Ginny to clean off his robes and help him to his feet. He felt her grab his hand uncertainly.

"You left us to die there," Harry growled, glaring at the Order members. Ginny's hand tightened slightly, he did not look at her, he wanted nothing to take away the feeling of contempt he felt for the Order right now...

"Wrong," Minerva McGonagall said briskly. "We were under the impression that it was simply the muggles at stake, in which case it would not be prudent to launch a rescue mission, with a full attack force of werewolves and Death Eaters."

"Not be prudent, to rescue my family?" Hermione spoke, her voice shaking now not with fear, but with anger.

"Miss Granger, they are muggles, this is a time of war, we cannot possibly..."

Hermione swore loudly, shocking everyone. Without another word, she ran back into the house.

"Who made this decision," demanded Harry.

"We all did, together," said McGonagall.

"No, we certain didn't," growled someone that Harry couldn't see.

"No need to cover for me," Kingsley Shacklebolt said. "I, as deputy-Head of the Order, made this emergency decision not to risk everyone on the account of muggles, be it as it may Harry Potter's best friend's family."

"Have you lost all your compassion?" said Harry angrily. "You would leave innocent people to die?"

Ginny now had two hands grasping Harry's wand arm, and Harry could feel her tensing. She had a wiry strength, but Harry was certain he could pull his arm free, if only he could just think of a curse to use on Kingsley...

"This is a war, Potter," Kingsley Shacklebolt growled. "There are sacrifices you need to make for the greater good..."

"Sacrifices of innocent lives?" Harry shot back.

"What would you have done?" Shacklebolt said, his voice rising. "Risk the entire resistance against Voldemort to save two muggles?"

"Four muggles, and yes I would. I think the fact that we fought off rabid werewolves, alone, I might add, would probably answer that question, no?"

"And yet," Shacklebolt said, uncharacteristically delicately. "Have you come back with any of them alive?"

Harry felt like he had been hit, he drew his wand, and felt everyone grow tense around him.

"You don't want to do that, Potter."

"You don't know Potter," Mad-Eye Moody said, stepping to the confrontation. Harry suddenly realized he had been the one who had contradicted McGonagall earlier. "This kid has got some backbone, he wasn't Dumbledore's favorite for nothing. Don't assume what he would and wouldn't want to do."

"You don't want to try and compete at dueling against me, Harry," said Shacklebolt, ignoring Moody and drawing his wand.

Harry laughed bitterly.

"Oh I think I do. Because of you, Hermione's family... they're... they're... dead."

"Put your wand down, Potter," a sharp looking witch said from behind Kingsley.

"Or what? You'll finish the Death Eaters' job? You'll kill me too? They already killed Hermione's whole family..."

"Not quite," a new voice stated.

Pushing through the crowd, was Arthur Weasley, and over his shoulder was Hermione's father, unconscious and bleeding, but seemingly alive.

Harry gasped.

"Oh... thank god..." he said, feeling his wand arm go limp. "And Hermione's mother?"

"Dead," Mr. Weasley said bluntly. "I saw her fall to the ground in shock... and after that, the wolves... I barely pulled Mr. Granger here always in time... he has a nasty bite on his leg, we'll have to get him to a hospital quickly..."

Fred, George, and Ron now appeared from behind Mr. Weasley.

"Get Mr. Granger to St. Mungo's," Shacklebolt ordered.

"As if you care!" Harry exclaimed, amazed at Shacklebolt's audacity. "You left them to die, who are you to give orders..."

"The Head of the Order of the Phoenix," the large man growled.

Harry stumbled a few steps, as he realized what this could mean for the future of the war if what the man said was true.

"You?"

"Yes, Potter," Shacklebolt said, spreading his arms impressively. "Me. Or at least I will be."

"Well, it looks like we've taken a major hit in this war," said Harry coldly.

"Potter, you will respect your elders," McGonagall said sternly.

"No, I don't think you understand. I won't respect anyone who doesn't deserve it. And don't bother threatening me with detentions or suspension, I'm done with Hogwarts. I'm not coming back for your little selective private tuition scheme."

"You don't mean that, you'll want to take that back, Harry," Mrs. Weasley said, stepping out to face him.

"No, I don't, stop trying to guess what I do and don't want mean," snapped Harry. "I mean it. I'm done. This war isn't about pawns and bishops, this isn't a chess game, and it can't be treated like one! Every person that dies may have done something amazing with their lives! You can't give life to those who have already lost theirs, but we should at the very least try to save the lives of those who are yet living! If the Order has sunk to such a level where it can't be counted on to even try and help innocent people..."

He left the sentence hanging.

"I hope you feel ashamed," Harry said. "You've let innocent people die tonight when you could have stopped it. Perhaps you should re-evaluate your priorities before you turn into something not so much better than Death Eaters."

"Potter!"

"Apathy kills, Headmistress," said Harry, pocketing his wand. "And that's why I'm not coming back to Hogwarts this year."

"And neither am I," Ron announced, stepping to Harry's right side.

Harry did a double-take. Almost forgetting that Ron too had not announced this news, he now looked to see the expressions on the Weasleys' faces.

"You are, Ron," Mrs. Weasley said dangerously.

"No, I'm not, Mum. I'm of age now. I make me own decisions, and my decision is to not return to Hogwarts."

"Don't make me start this in front of all these people," Mrs. Weasley growled.

"I am an adult now, Mum. I'm emancipated."

"Do not test me right now, Ronald Weasley..."

"You won't make me go back, Mum," Ron said defiantly.

"We'll see about that," said Mrs. Weasley, storming away.

"Consider yourselves lucky we shall look past this childish burst," McGonagall said strictly. "I expect you two on the Hogwarts Express, September the First."

"Hello? St. Mungo's?" Mr. Weasley called, still carrying Mr. Granger over his shoulder, his knees now buckling slightly under the weight.

"I'll help you," Fred said. "George, call Hermione, I think she'll want to know."

Mad-Eye Moody stepped to Harry's side and shook his hand forcefully, Harry could feel the various scars and skin with strange texture. The disfigured auror smiled at him grimly, and patted him on the shoulder.

"Don't worry, Potter," he whispered. "As long as I'm alive, Shacklebolt won't be running the Order."

The Order began to dissolve, going back into the house. Harry watched them leave, and saw, to small consolation, it was Mad-Eye Moody leading the Order back into the Burrow, and not Kingsley Shacklebolt, who lingered near the back.

"You're really not going back then?" a small voice asked.

Harry was startled, completely forgetting that Ron and Ginny still stood beside him.

"No, I'm not," said Harry, collapsing to the floor once more in exhaustion.

Ginny sat down beside him, and put her arm comfortingly around him. They sat there for a while, not speaking.

"I'm going to find Hermione," Ron announced a few moments later.

"Be my guest," Harry said dully.

Ron loped off towards the house, and Harry found himself alone with Ginny, horrific images rushing in his mind.

"What happened there, Harry?" asked Ginny softly.

"I..." Harry started, then closed his mouth as he found he could not speak.

"Please talk to me. I promise, it'll be easier when you've got it all out."

The concern in Ginny's eyes melted away his trepidation.

"I know," Harry said, rubbing his temples. "Well, what can I say? Here's what happened..."

***

The night of the full moon was a long one indeed. The Order, led by Mad-Eye Moody after a very dramatic speech, went to the Granger residence where they underwent damage control. Hermione's house was saved and meticulously repaired, the residents of the neighborhood were obliviated (with help from the Ministry Obliviators), and thankfully, they arrived in time to prevent the Daily Prophet from getting any details on just what the target was, and was dismissed as a werewolf rampage.

Mr. Granger had been taken into St. Mungo's, where Hermione and Ron stayed the night waiting for his awakening. Mrs. Weasley had arrived at St. Mungo's in the dead of the night, had drawn Ron out into the halls, and, according to Ron, shouted herself hoarse, even alarming the Healers. Ron, however, had maintained his position, and Mrs. Weasley went home with nothing accomplished, and a sore throat to boot.

Harry and Ginny spent a large portion of the night talking, and although they had both assured each other they were not at all sleepy, it was on the sofa closest to the fireplace that they fell sound asleep together.

Blood, so much blood! Harry thought, reliving the night once more. He saw himself grabbing Hermione, pulling her away from the gruesome sight, then trying to stop the old man from charging to his death, but again and again he failed, and the wolves descended on him, ripping him... the wolves then turned on Ron, who screamed as he ran, then to Hermione, who was wrenched from his grasp, and finally Ginny, who stood on a small hill in the distance, surrounded by werewolves, a terrified expression on her face as they slowly came closer to her...

"No, not Ron, not Hermione, not Ginny, please..." Harry groaned. Suddenly, a flowery smell that did not belong to such a grisly scene wafted in through his nostrils. It was a few moments before Harry realized that he had been dreaming, and just a few seconds more when he realized that Ginny Weasley's body was pressed to his own, her head right beneath his chin. For a split second, Harry forgot the events of the night before, as a feeling of pure happiness ran through him as he realized Ginny was safe, and he was holding her in his arms at that very moment. He kissed Ginny on the forehead softly, smiling as he saw Ginny scrunch her nose slightly in her sleep. A small feeling of guilt ran through him as he saw her stir slightly, and whether it was from the stolen kiss or from waking her up, Harry did not know.

You're amazing Ginny, please don't ever leave me.

Ginny let out a small sigh, as if she had heard his thoughts.

"Hey Ginny," Harry whispered. "Good morning."

Harry felt a strange sensation run through his body as Ginny's eyes fluttered open.

"Good morning to you too," she said, smiling. She seemed to take in her surroundings, and her smile widened. "This feels nice."

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "It does."

"So, the two lovebirds have finally woken up," a voice said from startlingly close to them.

Harry nearly jumped in shock, but as he was still holding Ginny, he simply did an awkward shuffling movement that resulted in him falling back down and Ginny falling straight onto his chest.

The red-haired spectator smirked widely.

"Shut up Fred," said Ginny, pushing herself off of Harry, sitting up and yawning.

"How's Mr. Granger?" Harry asked, also getting up, sitting next to Ginny who was now stretching her bare legs - Harry could not help but notice how she had worn nothing but a large shirt to sleep.

"He'll live," Fred said grimly. "Dad just dropped in to tell us that he's in some kind of catatonic state though, not sure if he'll be able to break out of it though, Hermione's a wreck, little bro is comforting her there."

"Where's George?" Ginny asked.

"At the shop," Fred said. "His shift, so I got stuck with babysitting you two. Mum is out at the hospital, I reckon she's trying to make Ron go back to Hogwarts. Looks like he decided to act on the example George and I set after all."

"We don't need you to baby-sit us," said Ginny, scowling.

"I agree. I think 'chaperone' is a more appropriate term."

Ginny and Fred started laughing, whereas Harry looked on, mildly amused.

"Come on, get dressed you two, Ron and Hermione asked for you."

"Will do," said Ginny cheerfully, swinging her hair around as she stood up. "C'mon Harry."

Ginny led the way up the stairs gracefully, turning to the first door, which was marked 'Ginevra' by a small bronze plate.

"You know, I've never seen the inside of your room," Harry said curiously.

Ginny stepped in, and closed the door so that only her face was visible through a gap.

"Not today, Harry," she said, winking. "Not with my brother downstairs, who knows what he'll be thinking if he sees."

She closed the door, and it was another minute before Harry continued up the stairs, a small smile on his face despite the terrible night before.

However, an hour later, in the Dangerous Bites Ward, there were no smiles anywhere to be seen.

Harry and Ginny arrived to see a teary-eyed, exhausted Hermione, and an equally drained looking Ron, sitting next to a bandaged and still unconscious Mr. Granger. There was a strange smell exuding from one leg, Harry assumed that it was the one that had been bitten.

"I'm so sorry, Hermione," Ginny said sadly, hugging her as she took a seat next to Hermione.

"I... I still can't believe it," Hermione said. "They're... they're all really gone... and my dad is in a coma..."

She buried her face in her hands, and Ron and Ginny embraced her on either side.

Harry looked at her awkwardly, drawing a chair and sitting down in front of her.

"He'll be all right, Hermione," said Harry softly, patting her on the back.

She sniffed awkwardly, raising a tear-stained face to meet his gaze.

"Thanks Harry. And not just for saying that... for coming with me, for... for saving my life... again. If you hadn't apparated us out... I had no idea what to do..."

Harry said nothing for a moment, suddenly feeling guilt run through him once more. Could he have saved Hermione's mother too? And would that, in consequence, have spared Mr. Granger from the coma? After all, Mr. Weasley had arrived there alone a few minutes later, and had only been just a bit too late...

Hermione's expression suddenly turned to concern.

"Harry?"

"Don't mention it," he said softly. "I... I'll leave you guys alone for a while, I'll go err... bring back some tea."

Awkwardly, he backed out of the door, ignoring the confused looks on Ron, Hermione, and Ginny's faces.

He had not gone a dozen steps before he felt someone grab his arm.

"I may not have slept in twenty-four hours, I've just been through hell and back, but you ought to know by now I can see right through you when there's something wrong," Hermione said, looking darkly amused.

"Nothing, nothing's wrong with me," said Harry, strengthening his voice. This is Hermione's time of need, not your time to have a guilt trip. You did all you could, she knows that...

"This is about last night, isn't it?" said Hermione, walking by his side now. "You're not telling me something."

She sounded strangely alert, considering she had not slept for a day.

"No, not at all," Harry said, turning to head up the stairs.

"So what is it? Something is going on..."

"How about this, Hermione? You go get some rest, I'll bring you some tea down, get a good afternoon nap, have dinner, and get a night's sleep, we'll talk about it tomorrow."

"Why not now?" said Hermione impatiently.

"Because the reality hasn't sunk in for you yet. And that's why you're still talking to me here."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're the clever one, you tell me," said Harry, beginning to feel annoyed despite himself.

Hermione opened her mouth, but seemed to hold back a retort.

Harry wondered absently just how long it would take for Hermione to think 'what if' they had stayed and searched for her parents, would they both be healthy and safe now?

"You're feeling guilty," said Hermione shrewdly, peering at his face. "But about what..."

They walked in silence up two flights of stairs, when Hermione suddenly grabbed Harry's arm again.

"It's not your fault, Harry!" she said furiously. "My grandparents, my mum and dad..."

"Don't worry yourself about this, Hermione," Harry said, lining up behind several witches. "C'mon, let's get the tea and take you back to the Burrow, you need a rest. Ron too, I'm thinking."

"Oh my God, the Chosen One!" a witch screamed from behind Harry, causing him to whip out his wand in a reflex action. Everyone seemed to ignore this.

"Really, Felicity, it is him!" another witch said in a loud whisper, pointing at Harry very rudely

"Mr. Harry, I mean Sir Autograph, could you Potter my quill, er, sign my hat I mean?" a small girl squealed nervously, holding out a self-inking Quill and a pink beret.

Harry hastily took the two items and signed his name on the hat, handing it back to the girl who let out a high pitched scream and hugged him around the middle in gratitude. Harry felt completely overwhelmed, and Hermione had a small smile on her face despite herself.

There was a click of a camera, and someone in the back muttered, "Who is he with, is that his girlfriend?"

"On second thought," Harry muttered, as he saw the whole room start to buzz. "Forget the tea, let's get out of here."