Means to an End

"Why on earth would she react like that? It's been five hundred years..."

"Her entire family believes that Bill was their direct ancestor--I'd say she has every right to pass out after hearing something of this magnitude."

"Does it really matter that much? I mean, she's alive, isn't she? Her family is still the Weasley family--they just have a different progenitor..."

Contrary to what people told her, the sinking in of shocking information does not wait for the victim to have a clear handle on their surroundings. Hermi groaned inwardly, willing her two companions to continue their conversation and ignore her until the piercing ache filtered out of her head. Unfortunately, a small sound escaped the throat of the heiress and alerted the others.

"Are you alright?" inquired Hermione. Hermi opened her eyes slowly to find two extremely worried countenances over her.

"I'll be fine as soon as strange things stop happening to me," she replied in a surprisingly firm voice. The younger woman stifled a grin.

"That will take some time, I imagine, as we've only just begun our acquaintance. Anyway, I suppose you'd like to hear a bit more about all this?"

Hermi nodded. Morgan reached around her shoulders and lifted her slowly off the cold stones until she was standing. Hermi could feel her knees knocking still, so she gratefully leaned against the man's body.

"To answer your question, Hermione, no, it doesn't matter as much as I thought it would." Hermi frowned. "But it's quite a shock, to be sure. I mean, I have all of Fleur's diaries post-2000, and yet you're telling me she died three years prior to the earliest?"

"Were they written in semi-perfect English?" Hermione asked.

"Why would that matter?" interjected Morgan.

"Because Fleur Delacour-Weasley was a Frenchwoman--she spoke English almost perfectly but could never quite get the hang of writing even the simplest sentences. In fact, any reports we received from her while she and Bill were on missions needed to be charmed so we could read it in English even though it was written entirely in French."

Hermi worried at her bottom lip. "Then unless she was a quick study, it's not her diaries we've preserved for centuries." The younger girl shrugged and motioned for the older two people to continue walking.

"I somehow doubt Fred would have ever settled down permanently, so it must've been George," she continued. "He was in a serious relationship with Alicia Spinnet the last time I saw them."

"But that doesn't explain the misconception her family's been living with for centuries," Morgan stated.

"No," agreed Hermione, "it doesn't. I'm afraid I can't explain, Hermi--perhaps, when this is over, you'll let me take a look at the diaries? There may be some clue in it that only someone who knew them personally would have picked up on."

The older woman could only nod. "It's not like anything's changed," Hermi said after a few moments. "We're still the most influential pureblood family in England, no matter our ancestor. We still have access to banned pre-Upheaval texts and records. Nothing's different, except the identities of the two people we have to thank and revere for ensuring our lineage." Hermione made a noncommittal sound in the back of her throat and looked back at the pair behind her.

"I'm glad you're taking it so well..."

"I, on the other hand, have some news none of us will take so well."

The young woman gasped and almost collided with the body which had suddenly appeared in front of her. It was Harry, though he looked absolutely exhausted.

"What's wrong?" Morgan prompted, not liking the grim look the boy was sporting.

"It didn't work," he replied. The other three people gaped at him.

"What exactly do you mean, 'it didn't work'?" demanded Hermione. Harry shook his head.

"I mean it didn't work," said the young man angrily. "The connection between me and the castle was meant to be permanent."

"And how did you figure that out?" inquired Hermi.

"The castle told me, and before you say anything, Hermione, the castle wouldn't lie to someone it entrusted its entire power with."

Hermione scowled at him indignantly. "I wasn't going to say that." Her friend's face twisted into a wry grin.

"But our family members are still frozen, or whatever you want to call it," stated Morgan. "What will happen to them?"

"Yes, most of them are still down in the Entrance Hall," Harry said. He gave the older man a hard look. "We can't save them, and even if we could, would you do it?"

Hermi glared at him. "Of course we'd want to save them!" she cried. "They're our families, and besides that they're human beings! They deserve a second chance at a life they were cheated out of!"

"I didn't cheat them out of it," Harry replied calmly. "They all knew that associating themselves with me would bring them pain and loss; they've had five hundred years to come to terms with it. By now they've realized coming back would cause worthless pain, which would most likely be created by the fact that they would have to live in a society which they could never understand."

"I agree with Harry," said Hermione softly. Morgan and Hermi fixed their incredulous stares on her. "Not one of these students is a Muggle-born," she continued. "I remember Dumbledore insisting that they all remain with their parents, no matter how old they were."

"But you're Muggle-born!" said Morgan.

"Yes, but I was involved in the war, unlike everyone else," she said. Hermione turned to Harry. "I understand, now, what you meant when you said you and I don't belong in this world." She looked back at the other two. "Only Muggle-born or Muggle-raised students would understand the inner workings of Muggle society and be able to adapt accordingly."

"It has something to do with the necessity of residing in both worlds," continued Harry. "Practicing and expanding our abilities while living with people who neither understand magic nor use it. The pressure to be two-faced does something to a person's psyche after a while." He smiled as if remembering something. "Most Muggle-borns or Muggle-raised witches and wizards would've given up the Muggle world of their families after graduating from Hogwarts."

"While we have," Hermi stated in an understanding tone, "continued building façades and masks for ourselves."

"Oh what a twisted web we weave," murmured Morgan.

Silence gathered in the corridor as the ideas Harry and Hermione were trying to impress upon them sank into Morgan and Hermi.

"So what do we do now?" Hermione asked of Harry. He did not look at her but began walking in the general direction of Gryffindor Tower.

"We say goodbye," he replied shortly. "And then I shut Hogwarts down for good."

Morgan wondered briefly who exactly they wanted to say goodbye to, but then recalled the hundreds of smiling faces in a green meadow, waiting to be saved and returned...

There has to be another way.

End Chapter Ten