The storm had ended and dawn’s flickering rays of light began to peek through the sides of the thick crimson drapes that had been pulled over the front window.
As the sun’s light intensified, it managed to seep through the fibers of the cloth. At that same moment, three sharp knocks rattled the front door. Startled, Hermione sat up from the couch and groggily pulled her knotted hair from her face. Stretching, she realized that she was no longer a prisoner of her own couch.
A sense of alarm pulsed through Hermione’s veins. After what had happened the past week, she had changed. After Voldemort had died, she reasoned she would be able to relax a little bit, not having to be perpetually strong willed, letting others take care of her. Could she survive if she continued wander down this path? Hermione was going to have to channel her “old self” – the self that had kept her alive thus far.
No matter who she saw on the other side of the door, she was not going to let her guard down now. If only she had her wand! Hermione felt herself falter slightly as she stood. She smoothed out her hospital gown with her hands. She didn’t need her wand. She was cunning and resourceful.
Taking a deep breath, Hermione moved towards the door.
Looking through the peep hole, she caught the tight ball of grey hair. Was it her muggle land lady, Ms. Sonya? It was not the beginning of the next month yet, right? Hermione was never late on her rent payments.
Opening the door slowly, Hermione ran through possible questions that only Ms. Sonya would know, without seeming like a total dimwit. As the door inched open, a small wrinkled hand stuck itself between the door and the door frame.
“Ms. Granger! Let me in! Are you all right?”
Hermione almost jumped out of her skin.
Somewhat composing herself she blurted, “Wait! Can you tell me what flavor jam I got you this past Christmas? I forgot. I don’t want to get you the same for your birthday.”
Hermione held tight on the door, attempting to stop the little woman from making it through the threshold. Her landlady always thought she was a little weird anyhow, why disappoint her now.
Hermione was successful. The old woman stopped for a moment.
“Peach? Oh I loved it so!” She heard through the door.
Hermione swung the door open and pulled the wrinkled woman inside. Barely making it to Hermione’s shoulders, the old woman stood in front of her, boney and frail, with her glasses pushed as close to her eyes as she could get them. Her grey hair was pulled tightly in a bun that sat perfectly on the top of her head. She appeared to be in a bright floral print house dress, while wearing pink fluffy slippers.
The woman stood there, void of words, with her eyes wide and mouth gaping.
“Ms. Sonya, are you all right?” Hermione spoke as she headed back to the couch. She was still quite tired.
“Why yes dear. I believe I am doing better then you at the moment. You look absolutely off colour, and you’re in hospital garb to boot!”
Hermione blushed and looked towards the fireplace at the opposite end of the room.
“I just got home from the hospital last night.” She began. “I had been outside of the café the night of the explosion.”
“Oh my! Well I am so glad you are all right, Ms. Granger. So many people died in that fire. It was horrid! You know, they still don’t know how it happened. Just odd! It gives me goose pimples just thinking about it!”
Ms. Sonya took the seat next to Hermione on her couch.
“I’ve always loved this sofa – it is so comfy! I could just sit here for hours. Anyway, I just wanted to check to see how you were. I hadn’t seen you in a few days, and your front porch has been crawling with people this morning!”
“What do you mean?” Hermione crossed her legs and looked down at the small woman next to her.
“Oh I am sorry. I don’t mean to be a snoop. You know my kitchen pane faces in your way, and I was just doing the dishes after early morning tea. Well you have just had some interesting characters at your door. No one ever appeared to knock either. They would just wander up and then stand there for a while and leave. It had been about thirty minutes since the last person visited so I decided to try my hand at reaching you and actually knock. Look who I found! You!”
Ms. Sonya chuckled lightly and readjusted her glasses. She reached over to the coffee table in front of her and began to shuffle through some old magazines Hermione had picked up from a stand across from the ministry.
Hermione frowned at the thought of having people waiting for her outside. Were they friend or foe? If it was a friend, they could have easily apparated here. Well if they had been here before. But, if the mysterious visitors had really wanted entry, they could have tore down the door. There had been no need to have fancy protection spells up until this point. If it had been a muggle, surely they would have knocked.
Hermione stood up and turned to face the couch and her land lady. She cleared her voice.
“Can you tell me how many were here, and what they looked like?”
Ms. Sonya placed the open magazine she had been flipping through on her lap and looked up at Hermione with big eyes, distorted by the thick lenses of the glasses.
“Oh dear. Let me think. My memory is not as sharp these days. I do know all of them had been wearing black. The first one I saw was lad with dark brown hair, glasses. He had been wearing a thick traveling cloak. He seemed nervous and kept pacing in front of your door. He stayed for just a bit and then left.”
The old woman closed her eyes, appearing to be concentrating hard.
“About twenty minutes later, a group of gentlemen came, about five in all. They all squeezed up here on your stoop and had twigs in their hands. It was the oddest thing! The men looked as they should be part of some sort of sorcerers’ convention or something. I was never too much in to those science fiction reads. They didn’t look too happy though. After they threw what appeared to be an adult tantrum, they left as well.”
“Your last visitors were a large black gentleman and tall, thin red head. The two men walked the perimeter of the flat just talking and staring. They didn’t stay too long.”
Hermione grabbed the throw blanket from behind her and wrapped it tightly around herself. A cold chill ran up and down her spine. She could only assume who her visitors had been. She was going to have to let the ministry know that she was alive. The sooner the better.
“Well thanks Ms. Sonya for keeping an eye on me. Silly me, I told my friends I didn’t want any visitors, but I guess they didn’t listen. Remember how I told you I belonged to a wizarding role playing club? Where we dress up and act funny? Well there must have been a group get together or something. I will have to tell them not to act so weird!”
Hermione forced a laugh and gave a big smile at her land lady.
Ms. Sonya didn’t appear to be fully buying Hermione’s charade, but nevertheless she took the cue to leave.
Giving a small smile in return, she spoke softly.
“All right then. Well you rest up and eat something. You are disappearing right before me. I am across the street if you need anything. Take care now.”
The grey haired lady hoisted herself off the couch and shuffled to the door. Taking one more look at Hermione, she searched the brown haired girl’s eyes as if hoping to access the real answers from within. With a sigh, she turned and took a step out the door in to the bright sun.
Hermione’s next order of business was to get cleaned up and changed. She would then go down to the ministry and clear up all of the mess of her having been kidnapped. Hopefully a plan would be made on how to stay safe and rescue her friend at the same time. If only everything could be as simple as it sounded in her head.
***
Harry had been sitting on the floor just inside his studio for several hours. Leaning against the door, he watched the light from the kitchen window cast long shadows on the wall beside him as the dismal day had turned into a dark night. He hadn’t bothered changing out of his soaked cloak and trousers from his walk from St. Mungos earlier. He sat on the hardwood, cold, unmoving, hardly breathing, drowning in his thoughts.
The chosen one’s curse, he didn’t even know himself anymore.
Reaching up to his forehead, he rubbed his lightning shaped scar. Was he waiting for it to hurt again? His scar along with his identity had faded with the passing days after the war. With all of the expectations, all of the notoriety, Harry struggled mightily to live up to all of the hype.
Voldemort had consumed his entire “magical” life. That was what he knew, what he had aimed at to defeat. With Voldemort gone, a part of Harry had slipped away into the darkness. He felt it deep within. Was it because he had reached his ultimate destination? He was only seventeen and his mission in life had been accomplished. He knew that he would like to be an auror, but he had never put much thought into it. Perhaps he had never truly believed that he would survive.
He had survived, he continued to survive. But at what cost?
Harry felt his eyes begin to sting. He ripped off his lenses and flung them the across the foyer and into the kitchen. He listened to them skid and clatter against the a small table.
Who was Harry Potter... now? To the wizarding community he was an auror, entrusted with the capturing of death eaters on the run, strong willed and resourceful. A true public servant. To himself, he was lost, confused, hurting, with an extremely long run of good luck that was finally running out. If only people would realize he was fallible. He wondered how long it would be until his poor decisions hunted him down.
Harry listened to the rain patter against the window panes throughout the small flat. It was now virtually pitch black and without his glasses he could not make out a thing. He pulled out his wand from his pants.
“Accio Glasses!”
Harry was sliding his glasses up his nose when a silvery figure slipped from under the door beside him and shimmered into the form of a lynx.
“Harry. There has been an attack at St. Mungos involving what we believe to be a reorganized group of death eaters lead by Draco Malfoy. There are dead and wounded as well as missing wizards and witches. Preliminary reports have shown that Hermione and Ron are among those missing. Before you make any rash decisions, please understand your orders.
I am asking you to report in at Hogwarts to aid in a possible overnight evacuation. We will not make the same mistake that was made a year ago. If the conditions deem necessary, we will make sure the grounds are evacuated by dawn. We will be expecting you in approximately a half an hour. Please apparate to the gates.”
The silvery form dissolved into the darkness.
Harry pushed himself up the door. Dragging his emotionally and physically worn body to his room, he slowly changed into a dry, clean auror uniform. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. He knew what he had seen several months ago and it wouldn’t have lead to this. A decision had been made for all to follow; the plan had appeared to have been seamless. Unfortunately, fissures had been present all along, and now Harry’s world was cracking and crumbling around him.
***
Harry apparated to the front gates of Hogwarts, joining six other aurors. Headmistress Minerva McGonagall was already speaking to them through the bars of the gate. Harry had planned to visit Hogwarts, but that would have been two weeks from now – when Ginny would be graduating. Now here he was standing in the pouring rain encompassed by the dark of the night peering up at the castle lit by torches.
“With whereabouts of Lucius unknown, there has been a go-ahead for the evacuation. We are in the process of notifying parents and guardians to be present at London’s Kings Cross.”
Professor McGonagall’s eyes lit up immediately when she found Harry had made his way to the group.
“Potter! Good to see you! I was just informing the others that there has been a subsequent breakout at Azkaban. Minister Shacklebolt and I agree that there will be an evacuation of the school to be carried out this very evening. The thestrals will be arriving shortly and the boats are already docked on the other side of the castle. Each of you will be responsible for evacuating a year of students.”
Harry wondered if he would see Ginny during the evacuation. He had seen her three weeks ago during her trip to Hogsmeade, however, he had not responded to a letter she had sent two days ago. He would have to tell her about his kiss with Hermione. Would it be tonight, and what exactly would he tell her? Harry, himself, didn’t know what he truly felt and what had provoked him to snog his best mate. He loved Ginny. He loved the Weasley family. If he lost the favor of one, he would also lose the other.
But was he harboring a flame for the brown-haired girl that was one of his closest mates? Her strawberry scent filled his memories and he inhaled the forest air deeply.
“Harry, are you all right?” Eva, a short, dark skinned auror with black spiky hair and big green eyes nudged him.
“Uh, yeah. Sorry, did I miss something?” Harry whispered back.
“The headmistress was giving us our assignments. You are to wait with the seventh years. Your group will be the last ones to leave and the most prepared if there is a siege.”
Harry’s heart took a leap from his chest and into his throat. He would see Ginny.
***
Harry was standing in the front of the great hall speaking to the seventh years who were sitting at the long table to the right of him. The room had cleared out for the most part and it helped to see all familiar faces again. The ceiling was dark without stars and Harry could have sworn that he felt a few rain drops.
After he finished giving instructions he paused and waited for questions. Just a few steps from the headmaster’s podium, it felt strange to be back at his first true home. Memories from his first few years of finding new classes and playing Quidditch were rapidly mixing with ones of bodies strewn across the debris of the war torn castle. Was he happy to be back? Could he handle this?
With several more exchanges, the group began to talk amongst themselves and Harry propped himself on top of the table beside them. Undoing the clasp of his traveling cloak, he caught a flash of red from the corner of his eye. Looking up, he saw a tall, slender girl with red rimmed eyes matching her scarlet hair that had been thrown up into a loose ponytail. Ginny was dressed in the Gryffindor uniform, unlike most of her classmates who were sporting their night robes.
Harry watched as Ginny stood silently in front of him, glaring at him with all of her might.
“I trusted you Harry James Potter. He trusted you.” She growled.
Harry removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. He did not want to deal with this right now. He sighed.
“Ron told you what happened,” he muttered.
“That you were practically shagging Hermione at St. Mungos? Yes. I had always wondered about you two. But you had always told me that you were only friends with her. When it was just you and her while you were looking for the last Horcruxes, I had doubts. You shared the same tent! You were together for months! You reassured me that you loved me. You told me you loved me!”
Her voice was rising rapidly and the room grew quiet to catch the display.
“Ginny, please can we talk about this somewhere else? I can come visit you tomorrow after you are home,” Harry pleaded. He placed a hand on her left arm.
Ginny backed away quickly from his grasp. Seething, her words were forced from her lips. “To feed me more lies Harry Potter? We are done. Maybe Ron will be a little more forgiving, that’s if he survives of course, SINCE HE HAS BEEN KIDNAPPED.”
Ginny’s face was crimson and tears were streaming down her face.
“Oh, one more thing,” Ginny leaned in towards Harry and snarled. “Since the death eaters probably want just you, like usual. Turn yourself in! Be a real hero; sacrifice yourself, for once, for someone else, like my brother! He would have done anything for you! You have nothing to lose, no girl, no family, no friends. Don’t you bother about Hermione, there’s more tramps were she came from!!”
With that, Ginny turned quickly and marched back to her group of friends at the far end of the table.
Harry sat in silence until it was finally the seventh year’s turn to leave the castle. Dawn was breaking the horizon as he followed the group to their carriages. When the last one was out of site, Harry made the decision to apparate to Hermione’s flat. She couldn’t have been kidnapped, he tried to reassure himself. It just couldn’t have happened. He had to see her; he had to be with her.
***
When Harry opened his eyes, he squinted in the strong sun. This was a dramatic difference from the past few days. Looking around he realized he was not in Hermione’s flat, he was outside of it. Facing the green, weather-aged wooden door, he blinked trying to make sense of it all. Something had prevented him from directly apparating into her flat. He began to pace back and forth quickly on her front stoop. Why couldn’t he get in? Had the ministry done this to protect her, or was this something else?
He would have to go to the ministry. Then, he would find Hermione’s and Ron’s kidnappers, sacrificing himself if he had to. He had obviously put his faith and trust in the wrong hands – but there was nothing he could do now. Ginny was right, what did he have to lose?
***
Hermione was looking over her shoulder every two minutes. People were after her and she had to be as cautious as possible, especially since she didn’t have her wand.
She walked rapidly along the tree lined pavement. A cool breeze played with the wisps of hair around her face. Only a few more minutes, and she would be at the ministry. What would she say? Would she just walk in and announce that she hadn’t been kidnapped, just trapped in her own home?
Her spirits began to lift as she saw the building the ministry was housed in across the street. Hermione waited until the cars cleared so she could safely cross.
“Ouch! Hey!”
Hermione jumped as a paper folded like an origami bird hit her in the side of the face. Looking around for the perpetrator, she let the paper fall to the ground. Surprised to see no one at all, Hermione realized that she had just missed her chance to cross the street.
“Please hurry.” Hermione coaxed the traffic under her breath. She gathered her loose hair and twisted it into a new ponytail.
Looking down, the folded paper was no longer at her feet. Shrugging, she turned to glance down the street, once again being hit with the paper.
“What the…”
Exasperated was an understatement. It could not possibly be windy enough to be assaulted by a piece of paper. She reached down to grab the origami bird and felt it flutter in her hands. She had never seen anything like this before.
Opening it slowly to determine how it had been made, Hermione noticed it was not a paper, but a cloth, much like a handkerchief. It had a smeared inscription on the inside.
Squinting, to make out the writing, she read it to herself.
Hermione,
Where ever you are right now, I pray that you are safe. Please forget the wrong that I have done. After this event comes to light with hopefully a positive outcome, help me leave behind some reasons to be missed. Don’t resent me Hermione. Keep me in your memories.
Hermione frantically scoured the makeshift letter again. More had been written, but she could not make it out. The ink on the cloth had been too badly smudged.
She turned it over to check the other side. It was blank.
Who had written her this letter?
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