Without Wand or Wire

When Snape, Fae, and the errant teens got back to number twelve, the household was just starting to wake up. Molly clucked at the kids for running off, then turned into a doting mother hen over the blissfully unaware Draco. Madam Pomfrey, after healing Faelyn's concussion, tried to harass Snape into getting some sleep. Fae then used the same Lullaby charm she'd used on Draco, catching Snape off-guard. After, she helped Pomfrey settle Snape in a bed to one side of Draco, before only too happily settling down for a long nap on the other side.

The young Gryffindors, meanwhile, had beat a hasty up to their respective rooms, for turns at showers and to change clothes. They headed down to the kitchen, where they found Mrs. Weasley, Alicia, Katie, Angelina, and Fluer fixing breakfast. Lee, Arthur, and the Weasley brothers were already seated at the table, along with Moody and the Auror. (Percy had gone home the night before, much to everyone's disappointment.) Harry and the others offered to help, but Mrs. Weasley insisted that there wasn't any room for even more people to wander about the kitchen, and suggested (in a tone that sounded rather like an order) they refrain from getting underfoot.

Harry noticed that Ron, for a change, was completely ignoring Fluer -- yet Hermione couldn't seem to stop scowling at the girl or Ron. The Weasley boy, for his part, doted on Hermione, constantly asking her if she wanted this or that when the food was finally served. Still she stayed icy towards him. Harry shared a conspiratorial grin with Ginny. What were they going to do with them?

They went back up the stairs, each of the kids bearing a tray of breakfast foods for Madame Pomfrey, Lupin, and the patients and guests that remained. Snape, Draco, Fae, and Petunia were still alseep, and the kids left them as they were as they moved from bed to bed. Harry and Ginny stopped to chat with Tonks and Shacklebolt, and was pleased (if a little surprised) to be introduced to her Muggle girlfriend, Sarah. Tonks nearly spilled her orange juice when Hermione let out a squeal from the other side of the room.

"Viktor!!"

The man in the bed she stood near sat up, rubbing his eyes. It was indeed Viktor Krum, the boy whom Hermione had dated, after a fashion, in her fourth year. He'd transferred to Puddlemere United that summer, and had joined the Order with Oliver. He also had been injured in the battle the night before, and been brought to number twelve to recuperate. Hermione gave him a fierce hug, and they chatted animatedly, Pomfrey sniffing in disapproval at their noise level.

As if to prove his point, Draco stirred. Shoving a stack of clothes (which Molly had kindly dug up earlier that morning) at him, Pomfrey immediately told the boy to shower, dress, and get something to eat, in that order.

Harry kept his eyes on Ron, who was growing redder by the second. When the Weasley boy finally left the room in disgust, Harry followed him down the stairs, to the kitchen, which was now empty, save for Bill and Fluer, whom Ron didn't even seem to notice were there. Ducking back around the corner, Harry heard Ron say "The Burrow!"

Floo Powder. Harry moaned. Ohhhhh, how he haaaaaated traveling that way! He stepped into the kitchen, blushing. "Um. S-sorry, I won't be long. I just want to give Ron a chance to get there before I go through."

Bill laughed. "It's all right, Harry, you're not bothering us. Although are you sure you won't be bothering him? Ron didn't exactly look like he wanted company."

"Yeah, well, he's going to get company, whether he wants it or not." It was what Ron would do for him. Well, after he worked up the nerve. Maybe.

"What eez ze matter wis 'eem? Eez every'sing all right?" Fluer asked.

"Eh, yeah, 's just .. girl trouble," Harry finished, not really sure he should be saying anything -- especially since Fluer was, inadvertantly, one of the problems.

"Oh, that," Bill said. "Geez, he still hasn't gotten it right, has he? Even after yesterday?"

"Yesterday?" Harry asked, and Bill recounted the events, including the details Ginny had filled him in on after Ron had gone chasing after Hermione.

Harry couldn't stop grinning when the story was done. "So he's finally admitted it, 'ey? Well that's something, at least! Merlin, that makes me want to strangle Hermione all the more now, though!" And he told them about what went down in the infirmary.

Fluer shook her head. "She was so 'ostile to me and Ronald zis morning, and now she blatantly flirts wis Veektor in front of 'eem? 'Ermione needs to pay more attention, instead of letting 'er jealousy get ze better of 'er like zat. Eef she did, she might 'ave noticed that Ronald is not attracted to me anymore, and all she did by talking to Veektor was 'urt Ronald's feelings!"

Harry cocked his head. "I was wondering about that! Ron was so affected by your Veela powers before, but now. ..."

Fluer hugged Bill close. "Eet was zis genius right 'ere! 'Ee came up wis zis charm, which prevents my Veela attributes from affecting anyone!"

"But that's great!" Harry told them. "All we have to do is tell Hermione that, and she won't have a reason to be jealous anymore!"

"But does she even know she eez acting jealous? We know 'ow she feels, but does she know zis?"

"Er, I dunno ..." Harry replied, remembering how little sense Cho's actions had made to him last year, and making a mental note to discuss the issue with Ginny. "Well, at any rate, I think I'll go check on Ron now ..." Bill and Fluer nodded, then went back to cooing at eachother. Yeesh, now I know where the term "lovey-dovey" comes from. ...

* * *

Hermione caught Ginny glaring at her out of the corner of her eye. Suddenly embarrassed and not even sure why, she decided it was time to end her conversation, if it meant she could leave the infirmary and the heat of Ginny's gaze. "Well, you should probably get some sleep now," she told Viktor, patting his arm and rising from her seat. It was all she could do to keep from running out the door.

When she got to the kitchen, she found Bill an Fluer standing in the center, kissing. She let out a little squeak of surprise, and quickly turned to head back upstairs.

"Oh no, you don't 'ave to go, 'Ermione! Bill was just leaving," Fluer insisted. With her back to them, Hermione couldn't see the pointed look Fluer gave her boyfriend.

"Oh, yeah, Hermione, I'm late for work anyway!" Bill insisted after Fluer gave him a nudge.

"Please, 'Ermione, keep me company a while, 'ave some tea, si'l vous plais?"

"Ah, o-okay. ..." Hermione turned back around and sat reluctantly at the table, while Bill hurried off to work through the fireplace.

* * *

When Harry stepped into The Burrow, he was greeted by the sound of someone strumming an acoustic guitar. Puzzled he followed the sound up the stairs, to Ron's old room. Did Ron get a wireless? Didn't electrical devices go all funny near magic?

What he found shocked the hell out of him.

It was Ron doing the playing, as he leaned against his headboard. He started singing, too. He was good. Really good.

"We're the best of friends
and we share our secrets
She knows everything
That is on my mind

"Lately something's changed
As I lie awake in my bed
a voice here inside my head
softly says

"Why don’t you kiss her?
Why don't you tell her?
Why don’t you let her see
the feelings that you hide?
Cause she'll never know
If you never show
The way you feel inside

"Oh, I'm so afraid
to make that first move
Just a touch, and we
could cross the line
Every time she's near
I wanna never let her go,
confess to her what my heart knows,
hold her close ..."

Just then, Ron looked up and spotted Harry in his doorway. He might as well have been caught with a girly magazine, he tossed the guitar off the bed in such a hurry, and turned about twelve different shades of crimson.

"Hah-Harry!" Ron croaked. "What are you doing here?"

Harry strode purposefully over to the opposite side of the bed, picked up the guitar, and held it out to Ron, who eyed it like it was a dangerous animal.

"Take it, or I'll hit you over the head with it," Harry told him firmly.

Swallowing hard, Ron obeyed, and held the guitar tight against his chest, like a shield.

Harry sat in the end of the bed. "I came to lend an ear. You seem to 'talk' better when you're signing," Harry observed. "Why don't you sing that to Hermione?"

"Why would I do that? I didn't write that, you know, it's just a song I heard on the wireless! And anyway, I wasn't singing about her!"

Harry smirked. It seemed Fluer's theory about Hermione not knowing her own feelings applied to Ron as well. "Did I say you were? I just thought she might like it. So ... is there some reason you're hiding this talent from us?"

"Who's hiding?" Ron protested. "I come here to practice because it's quiet, that's all! I'm still learning!" he pointed out when it was clear Harry wasn't buying it.

Harry decided to chip away at Ron's defensiveness from a different angle. "So who were you signing about?"

"Whadya mean? Wasn't singing about anyone!"

"Well, you said you weren't signing about Hermione, not that you weren't singing about anyone in particular. ..."

"Well I wasn't singing about anyone in particular."

Harry sighed dramatically. "You know, I really thought we had gotten past this, Ron." He shook his head. "Didn't you stop speaking to me for months during the Triwizard Tournament, because you thought I had lied to you? Isn't it only fair, then, that I do the same to you, now, for lying to me?"

Ron looked appalled. "You wouldn't!"

"Hah!" Harry pointed at Ron. "I knew it! You were lying!"

"What? No I wasn't!"

"Oh no? Then why did you say 'You wouldn't!' instead of 'But Harry, I'm not lying'?"

Ron seemed about to protest, but finally leaned back in defeat. "How long have you known, anyway?"

Harry shrugged, smiling. "I've suspected since third year, when you two were fighting like an old married couple all the time. And when I thought back on it, it seemed to me you two'd always had something ... different between you -- leastwise from anything there was between Hermione and me. She's always been a sister to me, but not with you. And then the Yule Ball thing sort of cinched it for me." Ron seemed ready to hide under the covers at this point. Harry fought a grin, then grew more serious. "What I don't get is why are you so down about it? You like her, she likes you, so why are you two fighting it so much?"

Ron shook his head ruefully. "You know, Ginny tried to convince me that Hermione felt the same about me as I feel about her, and I told her 'No, she likes Vicky, the Quidditch star.' But Ginny wouldn't back down, and like an idiot, I let myself get talked into believing she was right."

"So ... what's the problem?"

Ron gave Harry an exasperated look. "Did you not see her with Krum just now??"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yes, I did. I saw someone happy to see a friend she hadn't seen in a long time -- one who was apparently injured, I might add, so it's only understandable that she would be glad he was going to live, knowing he could have been killed last night. Doesn't mean she loves him -- leastaways not like that. Hell, even if she did have feelings for him, it's obvious she has feelings for you--"

Ron let out a great "Hah!" at that idea, and averted his eyes.

"It's true!" Harry protested. "Merlin, man, would she have been such a bitch to you at breakfast if she wasn't still jealous about Fluer? Why are you acting like the race is already run, and you've lost?"

Ron didn't answer, his gaze growing thoughtful as he absorbed Harry's words, and remembered what Ginny had said. His eyes flashed as a thought occured to him. When he finally lifted his blue eyes to meet Harry's green, Harry was alarmed at finding so much apprehension in them.

"To tell you the truth, Harry ... I think you've been a big part of the reason I couldn't even admit my feelings for so long, even to myself, much less act on them."

"Me? Did I say something to make you think I wouldn't be happy for the two of you?? If I did, I-I'm really sorry, mate, I am completely behind the two of you getting together! You were meant to be together -- I mean, it feels like you both have just been postponing the inevitable all this time!"

Ron shook his head. "It's not that you said anything, it's that .. I don't know, it's just that it's always been the three of us, you know? It just ... didn't feel right to think of being with Hermione without you alongside us. And you've been going through so much, I didn't want you to feel like we were ... leaving you or something, like ... like your parents, and ... you know."

"Sirius?"

"Yeah."

Harry stood up and walked over. He took the guitar out of Ron's hands and leaned it gently against the bed. Then he sat at the edge of the matress and gathered the flummoxed Weasley into a crushing hug.

"You know you're my brother, right?" Harry said into his shoulder. "Maybe not by blood, but in every way that counts to me. And no matter what happens, nothing's going to change that. I'll never stop being there, for the both of you -- just like I know you'll always be there for me!"

Too choked with emotion to reply, Ron could only hug Harry back with every ounce of strength he had.

[Harry hugs Ron ...]

* * *

"'Ermione ... 'ave I done somet'ing to offend you?"

Hermione squirmed uncomfortably as she insisted, "No, not at all! What makes you say that?"

"Well ... may I be frank wis you?"

Hermione's stomach did a funny turn. "Um ... sure ..."

"You know I am 'alf Veela, yes? And that men could not 'elp noticing me? Please do not sink I am bragging, it is simply an unfortunate part of my 'eritage. It was as troublezome for me as it was for ze men -- I could never be certain zat zeir proclamations of love were real, and zey were not in control of zeir own emotions. You saw Ronald suffer under my Veela influence--"

"I'd hardly call it suffering," Hermione remarked harshly, squeezing her mug hard enough to prompt Fluer to gently remove it from her hands, fearing she might break it.

Fluer took hold of Hermione's fingers. "'Ermione, please listen to me. Ronald's behavior wis regard to me was not 'ees fault; 'ees reaction was as eenvoluntary ... as a sneeze to pollan, nes pas? He loves you, not me! I know you are a smart fille, and eef you can look past your jealousy long enough--"

"Jealousy? Hah! Hardly!"

As if on cue, the wireless upstairs played a snippet of music.

Doesn't it hurt,
jealousy, baby?
Doesn't it burn?
Doesn't it consume your soul,
makin' you lose control?
Jealousy ...

Hermione scowled at the empty air. "That's it, that thing is definitely enchanted!"

She moved to rise, and Fluer tightened her grip, pulling her back down. "Whezzere eet ees enchanted or not, you should leesten to eet!" the older girl snapped, her patience wearing thin. "You love Ronald, and 'ee loves you! And yet you were so busy being a total witch to 'eem zis morning because of your jealousy, you failed to notice zat 'ee only 'ad eyes for you, and paid me no mind at all! Bill, the man I love, found a way to negate ze effect of ze Veela, so Ronald was free to give all 'ees attention to you, and 'ee did, and you nearly speet een 'ees face for eet! And zen you t'row yourzelf all over Veektor, right een front of 'eem!"

Hermione was starting to feel bad until that last remark. "What? I did not -- did Ron tell you that I did?"

"No, eet was 'Arry."

Hermione was seething. "Well, I did no such thing!" she insisted through clenched teeth, having dark thoughts about pulverising The Boy Who Lived.

"Yes, you did," Ginny said coldly from where she leaned in the doorway, her arms crossed. "You may not have meant to, may not have realised it, but you fawned and cooed all over Krum, after being a total bitch to my brother this morning."

"Ginny!" Hermione didn't know whether to be more scandalised over Ginny's swearing or her accusations.

Ginny came in and plunked down on a stool at one end of the table. "Oh, Ron is a prat at times, sure, and could stand to be taken down a peg or two once in a while -- but this morning wasn't one of those times! You're just going to have to face up to having actually made a mistake for once, Hermione, and apologise to him for breakfast. And you really should make it clear to him just where you stand, once and for all, in regards to both him and Krum. If you don't love Ron, then say so, because he sure as hell loves you."

Hermione's mouth had been working silently, on the verge of protest the whole time, until Ginny had finished. Then she meekly asked, "H-he said he loves me?"

Ginny grinned. "More or less. He did say he didn't think you were interested in him, but that you liked Krum. In case you haven't noticed, my brother's self-esteem's not the best."

Hermione leaned her forhead into her hand, sighing. "How many times do I have to tell him that Viktor and I are just friends?"

"Considering actions are louder than words, after what happened in the infirmary, I'd say you better start writing lines now and keep going until the start of term. 'I, Hermione Granger, love Ronald Weasley, not Viktor Krum.'"

Hermione scowled. "I didn't say I loved Ron!" She protested. And that wasn't a lie: she hadn't said it. Out loud, anyway.

Ginny rolled her eyes and pulled out her wand, quickly casting the Body-Bind jinx. A startled Hermione fell to the floor with a squeak, while Fluer scrambled away from the table.

"Oops! Sorry about that, Hermione. Well, anyway, this--" Ginny pulled a vial out of her pocket "-- is Veritaserum." Of course it wasn't really. She'd just gotten an idea when she'd spotted the vial in the infirmary. "I filched it from Faelyn. Now either you admit the truth now, or I slip you some of this, and we'll get it out of you anyway."

"You wouldn't!"

"Try me."

"Well, well, isn't this an interesting scenario?" Draco drawled -- somewhat halfheartedly, Ginny noted -- from the doorway. He was wearing an old t-shirt and a pair of jeans, both of which Ginny recognised as having beem worn by Ron at some point, and his hair was wet. The short sleeves, while they hung a bit low on his smaller frame, left his Dark Mark bared to the world; perhaps that was why he seemed so self-conscious and awkward, standing there on the stair. ...

Not so very long ago, Draco would rather have been hit with his father's Cruciatus Curse than have to wear Weasley hand-me-downs. The old Draco knew nothing of gratitude, that was all there was to it. The new Draco would be damned -- possibly literally -- if he repeated the mistakes of the past. The new Draco would learn humility if it killed him -- and it probably would. Hopefully.

"Pomfrey told me I'd better eat, or she would hex me into the next week," Draco told informed them, by way of apologising for intruding. "And seeing as Professor Snape is sleeping the sleep of the dead at the moment, and Potter apparently still has my wand, I figured it was best not to argue." The problem with healers is that they're far more likely to make you suffer for life than put you out of your misery, he added to himself.

Crookshanks had escorted him down, and now raced over to Hermione, where he settled on her chest and began purring. Hermione scowled at the cat, knowing from his purr that it was no use trying to get the cat to attack Ginny.

Ginny turned her attention back to Hermione. "So. Hermione. Either you say yes, what I said was true, or I give you this potion, and after I prove to you the answer is yes, Draco here gets to ask you whatever he likes. So which shall it be?"

The old Draco would have been highly intrigued by the proposition. The new Draco wished he could say he was just maturing, but he half suspected he would be happy to take the Weasley girl up on her offer, if not for the malaise that had settled on him. Now, he just wanted to be left alone. Seeing as tormenting Mudbloods was high on the Dark Lord's list of priorities, and Draco was not terribly fond of the Dark Lord anymore, it looked like he was saying goodbye to his Granger-teasing days. (Or he'd have to come up with new reasons to tease her -- like her affection for the Weasel.) Besides, people had been killed the previous night -- how could anyone feel like laughing?

Not knowing she wasn't in any danger from him, Hermione took temptation out of his hands. "All right, all right! Yes, it's true, Ginny! Are you happy now?" That last was directed at the cat.

* * *

Voldermort was roused from his weary sleep. He had been following something … a strange green and red light … he'd lost it, and it was urgent he find it again.

And then, as a foreign emotion fluttered at the edge of his awareness, he realised he had.

Potter was feeling great affection towards someone … Voldemort could just make out an impression of red hair … and moreover, he did not sense the protections that were normally so damnably present around the boy, preventing the Dark Lord from reaching him! …

* * *

Harry felt that old familiar sting in his scar again, albeit much fainter than the previous night, and was forcibly reminded of his resolution not to get too emotional, or give any of his feelings towards his friends away. He was the picture of composure as he drew back from his hug with Ron.

"So. Are you ready to go back there and declare your undying love?" Harry asked with much more of a smirk on his face than he felt on the inside. "Maybe duel Vicky to the death?"

Ron looked uncomfortable again. "Well ... I was thinking maybe I should go to Virgin, get a CD or two for Ginny after all. What about you? Wanna come with? If you don't find anything, I suppose you can always give her the Skiving Snackboxes I bought yesterday, but I was thinking we might actually put those to good use, so that's kind of the last resort gift. ..."

Harry shrugged. Ron and Hermione had waited five years to become a couple -- what was another hour or two? And he really should get something for Ginny. "Sure, why not," he replied, noticing with mild curiosity that the pendant in his pocket had flared with warmth again, for just a moment.

* * *

Ginny had released Hermione from the Body Bind, and Hermione, being such a well-behaved girl, just scowled at Ginny, rather than reciprocating. Of course the fact that Giunny was wicked-fast with her wand and a terror with her Bat-Bogey Hex probably had something to do with the older girl's reluctance to get revenge: Hermione didn't really believe she could get the better of the younger girl in a Wizard's Duel. Though she was highly unlikely to ever actually do it, Hermione envisioned slipping Ginny a dose of Veritaserum herself, and making the girl confess her own true feelings for Harry -- in front of Harry, no less, so she could get him back as well, for what he'd said to Fluer! She knew Harry well enough to harbor suspicions about the boy's feelings towards Ginny, after certain comments he had made in Diagon Alley the previous day. ...

She caught Draco scouting about the kitchen, looking annoyed. "What's the matter, Malfoy? I thought you were getting something to eat?"

"I was! Where's the damn house elf?"

Hermione scowled. "Malfoy, are you incapable of preparing a sandwich yourself?"

Draco looked ill. "There's no house elf here?!"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I'll ask the question again, Malfoy, slower this time: don't-you-know-how-to make-a-sandwich?"

She expected him to say something like making sandwiches was beneath a Malfoy, not, "Not really, it's just ... I've never been in a kitchen before! ... I guess ... I mean, I can probably do it, if one of you could tell me where everything is?"

"Master is not to lift a finger!" came a voice from the boiler cuboard door, which was slowly creaking open, knarled fingers curled around the wood.

Fluer, now sitting at the table again, curled her lip in revulsion. Crookshanks likewise hissed.

Hermione bit her lip: she had always tried to feel sympathy for Kreacher, but of late was having difficulty forgetting the part he'd played in the Ministry battle, having given Narcissa a weapon against Harry and then having lied to The Boy Who Lived, in order to lure him into a trap. Sirius could have been kinder to the elf, true, but that didn't mean the man had deserved to die.

Ginny snapped her fingers. "Of course! Malfoy's a Black, through his mum!"

"The filthy blood-traitor is a presumptious thing, speaking so familiarly of the master!" Kreacher muttered of Ginny. "She dares to act as if the young master is a friend!"

The young women in the kitchen couldn't help but note Draco's reaction: he jumped a little, then glanced towards them but couldn't meet their eyes -- not out of a sense of distaste, as they would have expected, but out of ... what? Shame? While Hermione and Ginny both figured he still felt guilt over the recent deaths in his life, it was nothing short of surreal to have him be anything but nasty to them. Just because he had lost his family didn't mean he should suddenly want to be friends with the Gryffindors, or feel any regret for his past actions towards them. So was he pretending? Hermione just couldn't shake the feeling that he was being genuine -- even as she couldn't quite forget (or entirely forgive) past slights, either. She wanted to believe people could change, she really did, and she trusted her cat ... but she couldn't help but worry that they might be setting themselves up for a fall if they did just that.

"Kreacher knows better! Mistress Narcissa speaks highly of her son! The Malfoys are loyal to the blood!" The elf spoke with a fevered devotion that left even Draco -- perhaps especially Draco -- feeling ill.

Draco couldn't help but compare this cantankerous house elf to the gentle, kind Peaky. Was this his family's legacy? Taking kind, eager-to-please beings and twisting them, making them hateful? Why had he taken so long to see it? How could he ever have accepted this as normal, even preferable?

Why were these people, his long-time enemies, being so tolerant of him? Why let him live, when he'd never shown them any sign of being any less than what this house-elf was so proudly proclaiming him to be? He was a murderer! Why not just excecute him now, and be done with it? Instead, they were making sure he was eating! Perhaps it was some weird form of torture, to let him live with his guilt for the rest of his natural days. ...

No. No, that's not it. It's because they aren't like the Dark Lord. They aren't vindictive, cruel. This is the kindness that Father always spoke so ill of. Strange: kindness seems to be as painful a thing as Father's Crucio! I just want it all to end, and they think they are doing good by making me live. ...

"Filthy Mudblood! She should not be eating at the same table as the young Master!"

Draco snapped to attention, the house elf's words like a knife in his gut. No. No more. Maybe he'd been raised as no more than a blind little sheep to his father's -- no, the Dark Lord's shepherd, and maybe he couldn't undo the wrongs he'd commited in that monster's name, but he'd be damned if he was going to live that way a second longer!

"What was you name again, elf?"

"Kreacher, young Master."

"Well, Kreacher, you are not to speak unless spoken to, and you are never to say the words 'Mudblood' or 'blood traitor' again. Is that understood?"

Hermione and Ginny goggled at Malfoy as if he'd spontaneously grown another head -- without using magic!

Kreacher's already bulbous eyes seemed ready to pop out of his head. His mouth worked soundlessly for a moment, before he began to wail, "Young Master has been bespelled by the filthy Mudbloods and blood traitors! Oh, my poor Mistress, what has become of your noble family?"

Draco stared at the elf in enraged disbelief. "Kreacher, what the bloody hell did I just finish telling you?"

"Don't worry about it, Malfoy," Hermione told him. "Kreacher was left alone for years -- he's really quite mad!"

Draco's eyes narrowed. "You said something about this elf helping my mother. What did he do?"

Exchanging a glance with Hermione and Fluer, Ginny told him what they new of Kreacher's betrayal, and how it had led to the demise of his cousin, Sirius Black.

Draco had grown up with mixed stories of Sirius. On the one hand, Snape had clearly hated him (and Draco greatly respected Snape). On the other, his mother had clearly admired the man, for the crimes he had committed that had landed him in Azkaban, in the name of the Dark Lord. At the end of Draco's fourth year, Lucius learned the truth, that it was Peter Pettigrew who had actually committed the murders and betrayals that Sirius had been convicted for. At the time, Draco had been disappointed and ashamed of the man. Moreover, he learned that Potter was Sirius' godson, and that Potter adored the man. When given the opportunity, Draco had not been able to resist dropping the hint to Potter that the Death Eaters indeed knew Sirius's secret, thanks to Pettigrew, and had spotted him at the train station. He knew he was actually betraying his father, in a small way, when he'd done this, and tried to justify the betrayal by telling himslef Lucius would understand, that he wouldn't want his son to pass up the chance to make Potter miserable! But now Draco wondered ... could it be he was, subconciously, trying to protect his cousin Sirius by warning Potter?

No. Don't give yourself credit where there is none. You were just being a spiteful braggart and you know it. Don't try to pretend there's an angel in you somewhere, Draco. Don't try to give yourself an excuse to join this side just because you're no longer welcome on the one you've spent your whole stupid life rooting for.

No. Draco was a killer. He couldn't pretend to be something he wasn't. This house elf had set into motion events that led to the demise of his cousin, his mother, his father, Pansy, even Crabbe, and who knew who else! It was a dangerous thing that deserved to be punished for its crimes. And the penalty for murder was death. The questions were when and how, as it was clear these foolish Gryffindors weren't going to kill the beast anymore than they were going to let him die, even by his own hand. ...

For now, "Kreacher, you are never to set foot out of this house again, nor are you to speak to anyone via the Floo." The house elf might not listen to those commands either, but it was worth a shot. "Now get back in your room and stay there until I call for you."

"But Master is hungry! Kreacher must feed him!"

"Don't. Argue."

Kreacher obeyed, whimpering about how he would find a way to free his master from the curse he was obviously under. It was all Draco could do not to laugh -- he knew that, if he did, it would be the strained, inhumorous mirth of the mad.

Hermione bit her lip. Definitely not the old Malfoy.

"Malfoy, what would you like to eat?" Fluer asked, taking pity on the boy. "I can feex you somet'ing."

"Non, j'aimerais apprendre … faire cuire. Est-ce que vous pouvez m'aider, si'l vous plais?"

Fluer smiled warmly. "Oui."

As Fluer directed Draco around the kitchen, Ginny asked, in a very quiet tones, what the hell it was Malfoy had said. Hermione informed her, in an equally hushed whisper, that he had told Fluer, "No, I would like to learn to cook. Will you help me, please?" Draco could only hear that they were whispering, not what they were actually saying, and assumed they were ridiculing him. He was surprised at how much the idea hurt him, but was also convinced that he deserved it, so made no protest.

Fluer showed Draco where to find the various foodstuffs -- he had no idea what items were to be found in the ice box versus the pantry, or even what a pantry was (he'd heard of them, and vaguely knew what they were for; he'd just never actually seen one), or that plates and glasses were kept in cabinets, and utensils in drawers. It was still early, so rather than making a sandwich, as Hermione had so pointedly suggested, Fluer showed him how to make an omlet, chattering away happily in French as they worked. He felt like he'd gotten more egg stuck to the hob than he ended up with on his plate, but, in the end, he felt a strange sort of satisfaction. Cooking really wasn't so very different from Potions, it seemed. ...

When he brought his plate to the table, he saw that Ginny, Hermione, and Fluer's places were empty before them, save for tea. "Um ... d-did you guys want any?"

The younger girls stared at him, mouths agape, while Fluer told him, in English, that it was sweet of him to offer, but they had all eaten already. She added that she would be happy to teach him more when it was time to make dinner. Draco was touched that she didn't think he would try to poison them all, as the younger girls, judging by their expressions at his offer, seemed to believe. It never occured to him that they might just be surprised that he had offered to share at all.

For his part, Draco was very suprised at how hungry he was: usually being upset left him bereft of appetite. He dug heartily into his eggs, while the girls resumed whatever conversation they'd been having. Honestly, it was as if they assumed that, in the act of eating, his ears were incapacitated!

"So ... I guess I should go talk to him, huh?" Hermione asked the girls.

Ginny and Fluer nodded sagely. "Talking is usually the best way to communicate," Ginny quipped. "Unless you've mastered long-distance Legilimency?"

Hermione looked annoyed with herself. "Not yet." Her eyes lit with determination, and she held up a fist. "But I will! It's just a matter of time!"

Now it was her turn to get the gaping looks from her companions. "Relax, I was kidding!" She grinned. The others smiled, even Draco.

Hermione stood up and took a deep breathe.

"Want me along for moral support?" Ginny asked.

Hermione nodded. "I'll give you a sign if I change my mind."

Ginny held out her pinky finger from a closed fist, a hand signal they had learned from manga (which Lavender had introduced them to) that basically meant "lover".

Hermione grinned. "That'll work." She suddenly felt a bit giddy, and rather fond of Ginny, who, if things worked out, might become her sister-in-law someday. Then she realised that, if things went as they seemed to be going between Fluer and Bill, Fluer would also be her sister-in-law, and was amazed to find that she didn't mind at all. In fact, she was feeling rather fond of Fluer at the moment, too. After all, if she did marry Ron, then Fluer would have had a hand in bringing that about. ...

"Where are you going?" Fluer asked as they headed up the stairs.

Hermione gave Fluer a blank look. "Aren't the boys upstairs somewhere?"

"Non! Zey went to Ze Burrow!"

"Oh!"

And so Hermione went first through the Floo Network, followed by Ginny.

By the time Fluer realised Draco was going too, it was too late to stop him. And if Crookshanks had noticed, he simply didn't care; instead, he bounded up the stairs to bother Pigwidgeon.

* * *

"So when are we going over to The Burrow to set up?" Arthur asked his wife as she put the finishing touches on the jumper she was making Ginny.

"In about twenty minutes or so, actually. The decorating should be quick enough, but there's a lot of food to prepare! Fluer's helping too. Lupin was going to, but I told him he ought to stay and help Poppy, and keep an eye on the kids."

They could have had Ginny's birthday at Grimmauld Place, but the Weasley boys had all requested that it be held at The Burrow, so that they could play Quidditch in the field near their home. After the previous night's events, their parents had readily agreed.

They could use a little fresh air and sunshine.

* * *

When Ginny arrived, she stubled into Hermione. "Ow! Mione, what'd you st--"

When Ginny saw her surroundings, she sank to her knees, to shocked to even cry out.

The Burrow had been leveled.