| another short one. just trying to get enough done for a chapter on fictionalley. |
[Jan. 6th, 2005|04:13 pm] |
Time was meaningless for Hermione as she lay alone in captivity. While she felt less uneasy after her meal, it did have the effect of making her somewhat vague and drowsy. Perhaps the lack of stimulation within the room contributed to her idle mind, but whatever the reason she found it difficult to keep her eyes from closing periodically. Without a clock or noises or any other points of reference, she was quickly losing any notion of how long she had been in the room, at least in terms of how long she had been awake.
She desperately watched the candle by the door, comforted by its glow. Soon, however, Hermione realized that she couldn’t even gauge the passage of time against the burning of the candle. It must have been charmed to not burn down, she surmised. As far as she was concerned, this room was temporally no different from a black hole.
What would it take to be allowed to at least walk around the room, she wondered. The longing to move was so great because she could not get up on her own will. Everything culminated in her mind, bringing back that feeling of unease. There was nothing specifically terrifying about her environment, but the disorientation and lack of freedom made her nervous, if not frightened. But, perhaps unfortunately, that feeling did not last for long.
The door swung open again, forcefully yet smoothly, and Hermione gaped in disbelief at her captor.
Arms swinging jauntily and freely and wearing the pleased smirk of a smug cat came Draco Malfoy. Hermione choked on her words.
‘Hullo, love; I trust you slept well.’
‘What are you doing here, Malfoy?’ Hermione spat in disgust, nearly forgetting her predicament.
‘Mind that temper, Granger,’ he replied with a sneer. ‘Don’t want to anger the management, do we?’
She bit her lip to keep from screaming at his unreadable face. It wouldn’t do her any good to give him a reason to punish her. As if being bound-up and locked up in this room wasn’t bad enough. Malfoy watched her face intently as she processed this information, amused to see the great genius Granger trying to know-it-all herself out of this fix.
Taking a calming breath, she mock-politely inquired ‘Why am I here? Where is here, and where is Tonks?’
‘See? I knew you could be pleasant if you tried,’ he flashed her what he probably considered his most charming smile, but they both knew it was just for show. ‘First of all, Granger, I have no intentions of telling you why you are here, nor where we are. But in regards to that revoltingly tacky friend of yours, she is no more. So sorry.’
‘Liar!’ she hissed with vehemence; she wouldn’t believe that Tonks was dead. ‘Where is she? Is she locked up somewhere here, too?’
‘If I said she’s dead, she’s dead,’ Malfoy replied, sickly-sweet. ‘There’s an old tradition held by our community of family and friends. We call it ‘Kill the Spare’.’
Hermione’s stomach lurched involuntarily when she heard the words. Kill the spare. She remembered Harry saying over a year ago that was what Voldemort said to Wormtail before Cedric was killed. She shut her eyes tightly and unsuccessfully tried to fight back tears. She didn’t see Malfoy delight in the vision of her crying at his news.
She looked right at him, her eyes red and watery. ‘What do you want with me? Why did you kidnap me and bring me to your mansion?’
‘Nice try, Mudblood. Do you think I’d let you tarnish the purity of Malfoy Manor? My father may be in Azkaban, but there’s enough pureblood pride in my veins to keep you from defiling our family home with your filthy heritage. You wouldn’t be so lucky as to see Malfoy Manor, you can bet your life on that.’
It was a good try, in her opinion. Even though she didn’t find out where she was being held, she could at least eliminate one possibility. That was, of course, if Malfoy wasn’t lying to her. ‘Could I at least get up and walk around a bit?’
‘I don’t know. Can you?’
‘Well, no. I mean, I’m bound to the chair; I can’t move.’
‘Too bad, then. I guess you can’t.’ Malfoy gave her a falsely cheery wave, turned onhis heel and exited the room, leaving Hermione frustrated and alone once more. |
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| ain't this wat'cha been waitin' for? |
[Dec. 15th, 2004|10:36 am] |
The atmosphere inside the Order of the Phoenix headquarters crackled with tense anxiety as its occupants fidgeted with nervous energy, performing tasks solely to kill time.
Neville sat by himself with the morning’s crossword on his lap and holding a well-chewed pencil in his hand like a weapon, poised to attack the little squares. He kept trying to catch Luna’s eye but she was resolutely ignoring his gaze. Instead, her mind dwelt on a magazine quiz that she, Ginny and Hermione had done in the Quibbler a few days ago entitled ‘Are You A Bad Friend?’. Maude wrote it, Luna knew, so as usual she took that to mean that it was complete rubbish, but now when it came to her mind she wondered if she had been right. The seventh question of the quiz haunted her in particular: ‘Do you turn away when a friend is in trouble?’. They had all laughed, confident that if their teamwork at the Department of Mysteries had done nothing else, it proved that they stuck by their friends. No one had been prepared to let Harry go by himself, so they all vowed to go with him. Herd mentality Luna thought to herself, uncharacteristically cynical. None of us wanted him to go alone, but we didn’t want to be left alone, either. That had nothing to do with friendship - it was an automatic response, fueled by fear. We should have known that. If it was just me, would I have gone with him? If it was just Harry and myself? I don’t even know. I sure wasn’t much help to Tonks and Hermione. I should have done SOMETHING!
Ron was the only other person in the room, Ginny having left to go upstairs to be alone for a while. He stood in a far corner of the room, apart from Luna and Neville. Feeling awkward, he didn’t even know what he wanted - whether to be left alone with his anxious thoughts, or to be surrounded by his friends. So in indecision he stood off by himself, hardly noticing the rest of the room.
When had he ever been so scared before in his life? Probably when Ginny had been taken down into the Chamber of Secrets more than three years ago. Excluding that, nearly all of his other episodes of fear and worry were related to either exams, quidditch or some ‘adventure’ with Harry and Hermione . . .
Ron’s stomach clenched as he thought of Hermione, and he forced himself to think of something else. Anything else. His mind came to rest on the memory of the time last year when his father was attacked while on guard outside the Department of Mysteries. That was bloody nerve-wracking as well. That was his father for Merlin’s sake. And this is Hermione . . .
Hermione.
Taking a deep breath, Ron brushed his hair with his fingers anxiously. No matter what he did, all he could think about was Hermione; how after all these years he was finally able to show her exactly how he felt about her, and then she got snatched away from him. Pools of tears began to well up in his eyes but Ron blinked them away, stubbornly determined to keep his mind clear. He was struck with an overwhelming wave of despair and a voice in his head screamed out Hermione! Where are you? I need you! Ron felt like flailing his arms around in the air and screaming at the top of his lungs; the stagnant atmosphere in the house was doing nothing at all to ease his mind. How could everyone sit and look so calm when everything was not alright?
Interrupting his inner monologue was the sound of people in the hallway. Ron had heard the door open but hadn’t really paid any attention to it, more focused instead on his own misery. He walked across the room towards the doorway just in time to see Dumbledore and Harry appear out of thin air as they cast off their invisibility cloaks. Lupin was there to greet them, and took Hedwig’s cage from Harry’s grasp.
Ron brushed through the doorway to see his friend. ‘Hey mate,’ he greeted him in a raspy voice.
‘Good to see you, Ron,’ Harry responded, truly relieved to find his friend looking well. Considering the circumstances, the strained look on his best friend’s face was easily overlooked.
‘Good day, Mr Weasley.’
‘Oh, hello Professor Dumbledore, sir.’ Ron felt downtrodden and was really not in the mood to make small talk, especially not with the Headmaster. He shifted his stance and looked at Harry pointedly, who gave him a questioning look in response.
Dumbledore broke up the awkwardness. ‘Well then, thank you Remus. I think I will go in and let Mr Longbottom and Ms Lovegood know that Harry has arrived here safely. I dare say he and Mr Weasley would like to speak privately.’ He looked from Ron to Harry, eyebrows raised in question, and received affirmative replies.
So leaving Hedwig with Lupin and dragging his trunk up over the stairs, he followed Ron to their room.
‘So,’ said Harry uncertainly as he pulled the bedroom door closed behind them, watching Ron sit gingerly on his bed, placing his face in his hands.
‘Harry, if only you’d been here, mate,’ Ron began quietly. ‘I mean, it was okay once we knew everyone was safe. It’s great having Neville around, he’s changed a lot I think, and Luna’s alright, too. But I missed my best friend.’ He paused and looked at Harry with red-tinged eyes. Harry sat on the freshly-made bed next to Ron’s, waiting for his friend to continue.
‘You wouldn’t believe it, mate; Fred and George showed up to meet with Dad and you’ll never guess what they brought!’
Harry waited expectantly for the answer, confused and concerned about the shift of topic.
‘Firewhisky! A full bottle of Ogden’s. Said it was a gift and that I should share it. Obviously you were the first person I thought of, Harry, because I know you’ve wanted to try that stuff for ages. I was kind of stuck. In the end I was going to drink it by myself, but then Hermione . . .’ Ron trailed off for a moment, but then determinedly went on with his story. ‘I would never have thought Hermione would drink anything stronger than Butterbeer! But she said she had Ogden’s before at the pub with her parents. Anyway, we were in the lounge and it was really fun, and we got smashed, mate, smashed! Then . . .’ Ron shook his head as if in a daze. ‘I don’t know how it happened. Really, I don’t. One minute we were just carrying on, then the next *poof* the candle burns out.’ Ron looked at Harry for understanding. ‘Well, we - erm . . .’
Harry finally grinned. ‘You snogged Hermione!’
Ron feigned a mildly scandalized face. ‘Yeah, well we kissed a bit, yeah.’ His face flushed and he tried to stop grinning like a fool. ‘Yeah, we snogged.’ He beamed triumphantly. ‘It was . . . I don’t know. Wow. Hermione.’ His face fell a bit, then he raised his eyes up to meet Harry’s again. ‘So now what, mate? Now she’s gone - I don’t know if I’ll ever see her again.’
The words dug like barbs in Harry’s heart. Although he didn’t have any romantic attachment to Hermione, she was one of his very best friends, and to hear Ron speak so dejectedly was more than unsettling. ‘They’ll find her, Ron. Dumbledore will.’ He said the words but he wasn’t quite sure he believed them himself. ‘The Order probably knows loads more about what Voldemort’s doing than they’re letting on. She’ll be back soon.’
Ron narrowed his eyes bitterly. ‘Do you really believe that?’ Harry didn’t reply. ‘It’s not that I blame you for saying that, Harry. It’s what we all want to hear. But they’re not even sure if it’s You-Know-Who. Doesn’t fit the pattern. One single attack in a public place. No Dementors. Not even obvious Death Eaters, no matter who they suspect. I know that’s what they’re all thinking about even if they won’t say it. I could figure that much out for myself. Really do Hermione proud on that one, huh?’ Shaking his head bitterly, he addressed the carpet, ‘It’s not . . . It’s not them. There’s something else happening. Somebody else has Hermione and we’ve got to find her!’ He lifted his head and straightened his back defiantly. ‘I love her, Harry. I always have. And now right when I find out that she has feelings for me, too, she gets kidnaped before I can even tell her how I feel about her!’
Harry carefully chose his words and spoke quietly. “Ron, I’m pretty sure she already knows.’
‘Why would you say that?’
‘Well. She might have mentioned it to me once before.’ He saw the incredulous look on Ron’s face and finished his thought quickly. ‘She swore me to secrecy, mate! She specifically asked me not to mention it to you!’
‘When was this?’
‘Erm. One time last year while you were out stopping Quaffles.’
‘You mean not-stopping Quaffles, don’t you?’
‘Well, you’re a much better Keeper now than you were at first,’ Harry pointed out diplomatically.
‘Anyhow!’
‘Anyhow, we were working on a Charms assignment, I thin, and she just kind of blurted it out all of a sudden. You know how she is like that.’
Ron sighed. ‘Yeah.’
‘She said something like “I think I’m in love with Ron, that great stupid prat. I wish that blockhead could figure that out himself. And I think he loves me, too.”’
‘Harry, you made that up.’
‘Well, you’re right - I don’t think those were her exact words. But that was the general idea. She asked a lot of dumb questions. Well, dumb for Hermione.’
‘What did you tell her?!’
‘I said you were a stupid prat, but she knew that already. Oh, and that you fantasize about her every day since you met on the train. Get a grip, Ron. I told her I didn’t know a thing and that you hadn’t mentioned anything to me about being madly in love with her from day one.’
‘’Priciate that, mate.’
‘Anytime. Anyhow, she kept trying to talk to herself about it. I didn’t try to figure that out. Said something about maybe she should kiss you or something like that-‘ Harry’s eyes shone mischievously and Ron’s face lit up with dawning comprehension.
‘The quidditch match . . .’ he whispered.
‘I guess so, yeah. By the time she mentioned that she had herself all worked up and she tried to run off to the library.’
‘Good ol Hermione. What did you do then?’
‘Stopped her, of course! Without her, I’d have never have finished that essay for Flitwick!’
Harry laughed for a moment as Ron chucked a pillow at his head. ‘Lying prat!’
‘Not a chance!’
Ron shook his head ruefully. ‘All this time. I had no idea.’
‘Yes you did, Ron. You both knew; you just couldn’t admit it to yourselves.’
They heard a sound outside the door and they both fell silent to listen. Unable to discern the sound, Harry stood up and inched open the door to find Crookshanks scratching his claws on the doorframe. Mewing plaintively, he squeezed his fat body through the opening in the door.
Ron stared at the cat in a mixture of loathing and affection. He didn’t really hate the animal, but he found it hard knowing that it was only coming to him because Hermione wasn’t there. Almost ready to shoo the cat out the door again, Ron was surprised when Crookshanks leapt up onto the bed with his bandy legs and curled into a fat ball of fur in Ron’s lap. Harry noticed Ron’s expression soften.
‘I think I’ll go say hi to Neville and Luna, okay Ron?’
‘Yeah, okay. Hey Harry!’ Harry turned back towards his friend before stepping out the door. ‘I’m really glad you’re back.’ |
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| go shorty. i mean . . . it's a really short one. |
[Oct. 11th, 2004|08:17 pm] |
‘Harry. I must inform you of the situation before we go inside. I am afraid it may come as quite a shock.’ Dumbledore spoke softly to Harry on the doorstep of number 12 Grimmauld Place; Mad-Eye Moody and Emmeline Vance had left them at the door at Dumbledore’s request with the intention of following up on a lead he had been tracking. The late afternoon sky was darkening with dense clouds promising rain soon, which Dumbledore watched stretching above them from underneath his Invisibility Cloak. Even though Harry was also wearing his own Cloak, Dumbledore could feel the boy’s emerald eyes watching him intently. Despite what Harry had suspected for years, Dumbledore could not see through Invisibility Cloaks. Yes, admittedly, he did have a very acute sense for these kinds of things; he was an old man and had seen many things in his years as Headmaster. Good intuition and keen guesswork helped him retain the respect, obedience and above all, trust of the wizarding community. But he was not omnipotent. He was not immortal.
Dumbledore waited as a group of muggles in their late teens ambled up the street, smashing glass bottles on the side of the road with rocks and throwing sticks at a mangy cat skulking in the shadows of a parked car. When Dumbledore spoke again he looked straight ahead, still watching the clouds instead of turning towards Harry. ‘Recently, Harry, there have been more reports of Death Eater activity and it has been confirmed that they have the Dementors of Azkaban on their side. You friend Miss Granger’s parents’ home was attacked while you all were still on the Hogwarts Express. They were not at home, but we left them in protective quarters until their home could be more adequately secured. Hermione was taken here and then we were notified of a similar attack at Neville Longbottom’s grandmother’s home a few days later. There were dementors, and Mr Longbottom managed to keep them at bay with a formidable Patronus Charm. Several members of the Order were on hand to help and luckily no one was harmed.’
Dumbledore paused thoughtfully before continuing. ‘The fear was that they were targeting a specific group - your friends. Those who were at the Department of Mysteries. As a precaution we sought out Ms Lovegood and brought her here as well after Neville came. We believed that with all the security on this house it would be the safest place for them to be.’
‘So why couldn’t I have come here straight away, too, Professor?’
‘Well Harry, at the time we were under the impression that you would be safest while under the protective roof of your Aunt and Uncle’s home. We held that belief until today.’
There was a tense silence while Harry steeled himself for the news. When he resumed speaking again this time, there was a note of regret and defeat in Dumbledore’s voice. Sounding as if he were speaking from very far away, he regretfully told Harry the truth.
‘Your friends were very concerned that amid all these difficulties they had forgotten to send you a birthday gift, A very thoughtful group of young people, your friends are, Harry.’ Harry allowed himself a small, reserved smile under his cloak. ‘Concerned that they hadn’t bought anything to send, they requested permission for two of them to go to Diagon Alley under supervision to go shopping. Conditionally, I agreed. Tonks took Hermione and Luna out for an hour, but they became separated.’ Harry waited with anxious rapt attention as Dumbledore took a deep, weary breath. ‘While Luna briefly visited her father at work, Tonks and Hermione were abducted while crossing the street.’
Shocked, Harry braced himself and lowered his body down onto the top step in a daze. He couldn’t speak, he was so stunned. This time a year ago he probably would have flown into a rage and screamed at Dumbledore for not preventing this somehow, but not now. Since learning the prophesy about himself and Voldemort, Harry was not prone to expressing extreme emotions any longer. It seemed to take too much energy that could be better spent elsewhere. Now, though, harry believed a good yell might be cathartic, yet he abstained. Hermione and Tonks. Gone. How could it have happened so quickly?
‘Is Luna alright?’
Dumbledore sighed. ‘Yes, she is. She’s inside.’
Sitting silently on the step, Harry toyed with a patch of frayed denim from a small hole in the knee of his jeans. He didn’t know what to say. Yes, Luna was fine, but what about Hermione and Tonks? There were many other thought and questions plaguing him that he couldn’t bring himself to ask.
Harry felt a hand on his shoulder, gently but firmly, and he felt slightly reassured. He stood up once more and waited for Dumbledore to unlock the front door. |
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| mmm, clues |
[Oct. 4th, 2004|09:52 pm] |
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Tonks shifted around on her back, eyes wide attempting to peer into the darkness surrounding her. What the bloody hell have I gotten us into? she wondered, painfully aware of the absolute silence enveloping her. Bugger! My hands and feet are tied up! Think, Tonks, think. You’re an accomplished Auror; you can find a way out of this. She didn’t even know if Hermione was nearby or not, but she was determined to figure it out. Assuming that her wand was long gone, she focused on trying to loosen her binds on her wrist, which proved to be more difficult than she had anticipated. There has to be a way! she thought determinedly, struggling with the apparent combination muggle/magical alloy which restrained her. The more she tried to move and attempt to weaken the ties, the tighter they seemed to grow around her wrists. It was nothing like anything she had encountered either in training or in the field, and it frustrated her. Deciding to spare her energy, Tonks gave up her cause temporarily, choosing instead to lie still in the oppressive dark and formulate a plan.
*****
Hermione awoke as suddenly as if an alarm had been ringing beside her head but wherever she was, it was completely silent. Relieved to find that her head was no longer throbbing in pain, she strained her head and neck in an attempt to survey her environment. Immediately she found her hands and feet bound, and it suddenly made sense as to why she was completely immobile. She couldn’t get a good look at the devices which held her but it didn’t matter much. Despite having read practically half the Hogwarts library and more, there was surprisingly nothing in her experience which detailed how to free oneself from restraints.
I wish George or Fred were here was her despondent thought, since they knew more about locks and breaking things than anyone else she knew. Impulsively she bit her lip and clenched her eyes shut in mental anguish as the thought of the twins reminded her of Ron, which was the most painful thought at a time when she was bound and helpless in captivity.
She took a few deep breaths and tried to clear her mind. Knowing that her limbs would be more than useless if she didn’t use them, she flexed the muscles in her arms and legs, wriggling fingers and toes to ensure that they might be operable if she managed to get free. When I get free she mentally corrected her defeatist attitude. It wouldn’t make sense for someone to abduct me if I’m only going to lie in this room indefinitely. If someone’s gone through the trouble to get me, what would they want with me? The obvious notion of a grisly death was the last thing Hermione wished to entertain, but there was no sense in ignoring the possibility. Silently she hoped that her end wouldn’t come to that.
She looked about the small room she found herself in. More like a box than a room, except that it had one single heavy oak door on the wall opposite of where she lay. There was no other furniture in the room, save for that which she lay on - not really a bed or a couch. It was stiff, but not wholly uncomfortable. Craning her neck, she inspected the device she reclined upon out of curiosity, straining her eyes in the dark. Somewhat surprised, Hermione believed it was an old-fashioned chaise-lounge.
She eased her neck again and mused in wonderment as to where she could be. What kind of prisoner was she if she was (presumably) unharmed, and being held captive in an apparently posh, although bare, prison? It didn’t make any sense. As she attempted to puzzle it out, them memory of the ambush, or whatever it was, on Diagon Alley started to come back to her with wavering clarity. She knew she and Tonks weren’t alone there when it happened, but who else was there?
‘Oh no!’ she whispered plaintively in the darkness. ‘Where’s Tonks?’
Panic began to spread throughout her body at the realization that she truly was alone. Initially upon realizing she appeared safe but in strange surroundings, she had overlooked the fact that Tonks didn’t appear to be with her any longer.
‘Tonks?’ Hermione whispered timidly, hoping for any response, but receiving none. ‘Tonks!’ A single tear ran down her face as the realization set in that she was utterly alone and completely helpless.
Without warning a candle lit up nearby the door, bathing the room in an eerie glow. Hermione couldn’t remember seeing a candle there, but there it was nonetheless. Getting a better view of her ‘accommodations’, she took in the rich burgundy color of the walls, ominously close to the color of dried blood. The ceiling was painted the same rich color, giving Hermione the impression of being enclosed in a decadent prison.
As she lay contemplating the gravity of her plight, Hermione was startled by the squeaking of the thick oak door swinging inward. An old woman in plain black robes stamped into the room pushing a highly polished mahogany cart, set with a full dinner service for one. The sight of the cart set for dinner reminded Hermione of how hungry she was. How long had she been passed out? Her stomach rumbled audibly and the old woman stared at her with marked distaste in her cold eyes.
‘If Master’s guest would like to take her dinner, I shall unbind her wrists and ankles.’
Hermione stared at her in disbelief. Master’s guest? The woman now showed no interest in Hermione, who had not uttered a single word, too stunned by the announcement. As the cart began to turn toward the door again, Hermione croaked humbly through dry lips ‘Yes please; I would like to have something to eat.’
‘Very well.’ The woman turned toward her again and held a sheet of parchment out for her to read. It was a menu. Limited and not particularly hardy, but still there were choices. Baffled but still undeniably grateful, she indicated a preference for beef broth over chicken, a slice of whole wheat toast instead of white, and a pitcher of water, passing over the option of red or white wine.
The severe-looking woman stepped back from Hermione and tapped the menu several times with a wand she produced from her pocket, each tap bringing the item into existence on the cart.
‘Tea or coffee for dessert?’ she inquired shrewdly.
‘Erm. No thank you,’ Hermione replied weakly, afraid any caffeine might keep her awake later on when it might be far more beneficial to sleep.
Hermione was advised to hold out her hands and feet, and under oath not to try and run away, she was free of her restraints. She rubbed her wrists and was unceremoniously handed a solid silver soupspoon.
All throughout the minimal meal the old witch watched Hermione like a hawk for any signs that she might attempt to break loose. She needn’t have bothered - Hermione was far too tired and sore to try to make a run for it, besides the fact that she had no idea where she was, nor where to find help.
When she had finished, the old witch magicked her back into the restraints.
‘Erm - what about when I need to go to the loo?’ Hermione asked sheepishly.
In complete silence the old witch’s look of disgust and disdain deepened and she pointed the tip of her wand at Hermione. Instantly she felt relieved as if she had just been to the toilet. The old witch turned once again to push the cart out through the door once more, and turned to the tiny candle burning on the wall.
‘Could you please leave it burning?’ Hermione pleaded meekly with her in a small voice, a look of desperation in her eyes at the prospect of being left alone once more. The old witch said nothing but nonetheless left the candle alone as she shut the door behind her.
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| a quick one, while he's away (wait, this isn't the who live at leeds . . . ) |
[Sep. 29th, 2004|10:37 pm] |
When the car stopped moving Luna was able to clear the dark vision of blinking stars from her mind. She was pale and shaky, so the burly driver assisted her up the steps to the house, which expanded into view as they watched Lupin step out between numbers 11 and 13. His tired body, tensed in anxiety, stood in sharp relief against the ominously cracked and peeling clapboard of number 12. He grasped her carefully as soon as she placed a foot on the step and permitted the driver to leave. Silently he ushered Luna into the house, which had taken on the mood of a funeral parlor.
The occupants of the house were all waiting in the hallway by the door as they reemerged, Lupin’s grave expression setting the tone for all. Molly Weasley drifted in beside Luna with a cup of hot chocolate and insisted that she sit down. The crowd moved into the lounge where Luna was immediately propped up in Ginny’s favorite armchair at the center of attention.
Luna knew they were waiting for her to say something, but she couldn’t seem to make her lips move. Wide-eyed, she looked around the room as she took a careful sip of her hot chocolate. Ron turned away from the rest of the people gathered around her, fiercely rubbing at his eyes with his fists. Luna choked on the bubble in her throat because she suspected that she was the only one who knew about Ron and Hermione’s feelings for each other. Poor Ronald, she thought sadly, ‘he’s falling apart.
Neville looked more composed than Luna had expected and Ginny appeared to be more alert than almost any time in the past few days. All of a sudden Luna realized who was obviously missing from the gathering.
‘Where’s Dumbledore?’
‘He left with Mad Eye and some of the others to get Harry,’ Ginny piped up, her eyes shining with half-formed tears. ‘He said we couldn’t afford to leave him alone now.’ The tears broke free and spilled down over her cheeks but she made no move to wipe them. She stood up abruptly, crossed the room and crawled up into the chair with Luna, sobbing. Hugging her friend close she wept ‘Where are they?’
Luna felt her chest constrict before she finally sighed ‘I don’t know’. Somehow with that small confession she was able to explain what she had seen for the group, especially the glowing dome of sparks and light which had consumed them, and surmised that it must have been some intense spell of unknown origin. Her captive audience gazed dumbstruck at her as she described the paralyzing sensation she felt when in view of the spectacle and of how even at a distance it robbed her of energy and commonsense.
Lupin drew in a sharp intake of breath and frowned upon hearing that. ‘How did the rest of the street react afterwards, Luna?’
Her face went blank as she tried to recreate the scene in her mind. Then with startling realization it dawned on her that there was no reaction. She hadn’t seen anyone else from the alleyway while it was happening, nor did she hear any shrieks of panic or any indication whatsoever that there was some form of disorder on the street. She said this to Lupin.
‘Dumbledore will have to hear about this as soon as they get back with Harry.’ He took a steadying breath and announced regretfully ‘We’ve never come up against something of this nature before. I don’t know where we should start. However-‘ he paused briefly, ‘I hope I’m not being overly optimistic, but I suspect they’re both okay. For the time being at least.’
‘How can you say that, Remus?’ demanded Ron bitterly, staring at Lupin angrily. ‘You don’t have any idea where they’ve gone! How can you just suspect that they’re okay? They’re not okay! They’re not here!’
‘Ron, from what Luna has told us, I think it’s a fair estimate. If Voldemort or a Death Eater went through the trouble of trapping them with powerful Dark magic like that, I’d say the chances are in our favor that they haven’t been significantly harmed,’ Lupin explained quietly.
Ron looked utterly ashamed of him self and didn’t even flinch when Lupin said Voldemort’s name out loud. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean . . . you know. I just . . .’ he shrugged his shoulders heavily as if he were bearing the weight of the world on them.
‘It’s okay, Ron,’ Lupin assured him, ‘I’m sure all our tensions are running high now.’
The group fell silent again. Mrs Weasley tenderly wrapped her arm around Ron’s shoulder and he did not turn away. Ginny sat with her feet curled up under her in the chair, hugging Luna as if afraid she might drift away, while wordlessly staring out the window. Luna shifted her gaze often, afraid to make eye contact with anyone, feeling that somehow she had let everyone down. Neville sat on the floor, looking up at Luna even though she looked away, wishing he, too, could hold her close to his body like Ginny was, silently affirming in his mind it wasn’t your fault.
*****
‘Good afternoon. May I please see Harry Potter? I am afraid it is quite urgent.’
‘What do you want with the boy? In some kind of trouble, I expect.’
‘Mr Dursley, I assure you that Harry is not immediately in any trouble, as you say, but he is in grave danger.’
‘Sorry! He’s not here. Different house altogether. Good day!’
‘Who’s at the door, Dad?’
‘Nobody, Dudley. Wrong address; run along now!’
‘My name is Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School. Dudley, is it? Would you be so kind as to fetch your cousin for me?’
‘Oi! Squint-Eyes! Somebody wants you at the door!’
‘Professor Dumbledore, sir!’
‘Hello Harry.’
‘What’s wrong, sir? I though I wasn’t supposed to leave Privet Drive for another week at least.’
‘Ah Harry. It is unfortunate that I must be the bearer of some most unfortunate news. It seems that Ms Granger and Ms Tonks have gone missing. A suspected abduction.’
‘Abduction?! Sir, what happened? Where are they?’
‘Calm down, my dear boy. While we do not know yet where they have been taken, we are fairly certain that they are unharmed. I will tell you all we know in a few minutes. But for now, pack up your things and please, make haste. I am afraid we may not have much time.’
‘Not more of those dementy-whatzits again, now is it? I won’t stand for any more of that rubbish affecting my family!’
‘Rest assure, Mr Dursley, that your family is perfectly safe. Only Harry may be still in danger while he is here; we are taking him to where he will be safe, and we will leave you to your own safety. Ah, good, Harry. All set then? Mad Eye, Kingsley and Ms Vance are waiting outside. Hands full? Perhaps Mad Eye could carry your owl?’
‘I’d prefer to carry his trunk.’
‘Splendid. Thank you, Mr Dursley for being so patient. Please give my regards to your wife. It was a pleasure to meet you, Dudley. Good day.’ |
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| a quickie which offers no answers |
[Sep. 28th, 2004|10:08 pm] |
It was several minutes later when Luna realized her father was crouched beside her in the doorway, gently shaking her shoulder and speaking in an urgent tone. Had she passed out? Caught the tail-end of an unfamiliar malicious spell? Like shaking off the lingering vestiges of sleep, Luna struggled to clear her mind and make logical sense of the situation. She would not panic. She would not cause a scene. But she needed answers.
Then suddenly remembering the device Tonks had given her, she began rummaging around her robes to find it, inadvertently tuning out whatever her father was saying.
She found it in her pocket and immediately brushed her thumb across the center in a state of forced calm, just as Tonks had shown her. Her fingerprint left behind glowed blue, briefly and dimly in her hand. ‘Tonks?’ she choked out, her voice barely making a sound. She cleared her throat and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, and tried again more clearly. ‘Tonks? Are you there? Can you hear me?’ There was no response from the small device. Resisting the urge to throw the useless thing at the wall in front of her sheerly out of frustration, she tucked it back inside her robes.
‘They’re gone.’ Luna intended for it to be just a simple statement, but with the steadily increasing wateriness of her vision and the prickling sensation in the corners of her eyes, her uncertainty inflected the statement into a question.
Mr Lovegood had questions in his eyes that he couldn’t bear to ask aloud. ‘You’ve got to go back. You won’t be safe here with me, Luna.’
‘I know. I’ve got to go back down the street. Come with me!’ she pleaded.
‘How did you get to the street today? Who was your contact?’
‘Hestia Jones. I don’t know what the place is called.’ Despite her growing feeling of panic, Luna was able to keep her emotions reined in. It was, after all, an emergency. A fine Ravenclaw she’d be if she lost her head in a crisis. The logical first step would be to get back to Headquarters immediately and alert the Order to what had happened.
‘I know Hestia. Wonky sort of transportation thing she supervises. I’ll get her on the Floo and see if it’s safe. I don’t want you out on the street.’
Father and daughter sprinted up the stairs to Mr Lovegood’s office. Mr Lovegood cast Incendio into the cold grate, then grasped some Floo powder in his fist for the new flames while Luna tried not to notice the proud , smiling photographs of her late mother on the desk.
‘Hestia Jones, Diagon Alley,’ he announced clearly into the dancing flames.
Hestia’s face appeared in the fire. ‘Winston! This was certainly unexpected.’
‘Hestia, we’ve got a major situation here,’ he replied tersely.
Her face paled amid the bright flames. ‘I get the feeling you’re not talking about the magazine, Wince.’
He shook his head. ‘There was an incident in the street. Ms Tonks and Hermione appear to be missing. Luna’s here with me. Is it safe for her to Floo over to you so she can get back to Dumbledore and the others?’
‘Just a minute!’ Hestia Jones’ face disappeared from the grate for momentarily, the flames flickered and turned an icy blue color. ‘It’ll only last a few minutes, but it’s safer than taking the street. We’ll need a full report as soon as you can have it, Winston.’
He nodded. ‘Let me know if you need the Quibbler to take a different angle on anything.’
She quickly agreed. Mr Lovegood hugged and kissed his daughter once more before she stepped inside the fireplace.
Traveling by secure Floo was a new experience for Luna. It wasn’t nearly as disorientating an experience as through the regular Floo network - the smoke and ashes didn’t affect her eyes or nose, nor was she dizzy upon coming out at the other grate. Hestia was there waiting for her to emerge, dusting soot off the hem of her robes.
‘Dear child! How on earth could this have happened?’ Luna took it to be a rhetorical question and did not reply. ‘I’m waiting for a car to bring you back, dearie. Shouldn’t be long.’
In the meantime, she contacted number 12 Grimmauld Place. The fire was empty for what seemed like an extraordinarily long time, Luna becoming more and more agitated with every second that went past without answer. Finally, after about only a minute or two, the head of Remus Lupin could be made out in the fire, his tired face lined with concern. ‘Hestia, please tell me this is just a routine call.’
She shook her head regretfully. ‘I don’t have the full details yet, Remus, but Dora and Hermione are gone. Could be an abduction. Luna’s safe, she was visiting her father. I’m waiting on a car now to get her back to you.’
Lupin closed his eyes and bit his lip, bowing his head. ‘Have the driver walk her to the door. I’ll be waiting to let her in.’ He nodded once to Hestia and the fireplace was empty once more.
The sound of a car horn echoed around the room. ‘That’s your ride, dear,’ said Hestia, taking Luna by the hand. An empty bench along the wall had a sign flashing Number 3: VACANT above it. Luna was ushered to the bench quickly and Hestia announced the destination into thin air. Luna felt pressure forcing her back into the bench and her vision dimmed with multicolored stars as the room around her dissolved into nothingness.
*****
Hermione struggled to regain consciousness. Her whole body felt stiff and sore, and her eyes felt like they were glued shut. She had a splitting headache and only felt vaguely uncomfortable upon the realization that she couldn’t move her limbs.
Have I been drugged? she thought dazedly before attempting to roll over on to her side. She groaned at the unexpected pain. How stupid. Why would anyone drug a witch? Her thoughts muddied as another pulse of pain throbbed across her brain. She was dimly aware of a shuffling or scraping sound nearby before she drifted back into unconsciousness. |
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| (no subject) |
[Sep. 24th, 2004|10:17 pm] |
While she cast her eyes around the office lobby, Hermione noticed a pudgy young woman with tight, rust-colored ringlets enter the rom through a door on the far wall. She trudged unhurriedly towards the cluttered desk, appearing to take no notice of the newcomers. As she took a seat behind the desk she took a wand from inside her ink-smudged robes and gave a quick wave, instantly clearing the desktop of debris. Now a shiny brass plaque inscribed ‘Welcome Visitors’ was plainly visible.
‘Welcome to the Quibbler. What can I do for you?’ she chanted automatically, her eyes on Tonks.
Luna stepped forward toward the questionable customer-service witch. She recognized Luna immediately, and her pace lit up with pleasure.
‘Luna sweetheart! I didn’t think I’d get to see you this summer. Your father mentioned that you were gone to stay with some friends for the summer. What a surprise!’ She carried on in this vein for a while until she seemed to tire of talking.
The blonde girl responded warmly, but with a slightly reserved smile. ‘That’s right Maude; I’m staying with my friend Hermione,’ she indicated her bushy-haired companion, who waved hello. Maude’s mud-colored eyes travelled from Hermione back to Tonks with suspicion.
‘Hi, I’m Dora, Hermione’s cousin,’ Tonks said smoothly without missing a beat, holding out her slender hand in greeting.
Maude reciprocated and caught Tonks’s hand in her own fleshy grasp.
‘Is Dad busy? Could I see him for a few minutes?’ Luna asked, knowing their allotted time was steadily slipping away.
‘Sure thing, hon. I’ll go fetch him from the office for you.’ Maude turned and shuffled towards yet another door, this one nearly obscured by the visitors area.
‘LOVEGOOD!’ she bellowed as she went through the door and up a flight of stairs. ‘HEY! LOVEGOOD!’
Luna turned to the bewildered faces of her companions. ‘I wouldn’t say anything to Maude. She’s a bit strange,’ she stated matter-of-factly. Tonks and Hermione only goggled in amazement at the door through which Maude had disappeared.
Checking her watch quickly, Tonks cringed. ‘C’mon, Hermione, we’ve only got a few minutes. Sorry we won’t get to meet your father, Luna. Say ‘hi’ to him for us, will you? We’ll be back faster than a Niffler in a jewelers shop,’ They moved quickly and were out the door as swift footfalls and happy whistling could be heard coming down the staircase.
*****
Tonks and Hermione jogged across the street to the Owl Post Office, leaving the Quibbler office behind. A bell tinkled overhead as they entered the building. A greying, middle-aged wizard greeted them immediately. Tonks inquired about the Honeydukes order and he agreed that it would be no trouble at all. Since they were sending packages as well, he wouldn’t even charge them extra for the owl’s detour to Hogsmeade.
‘You will be able to get it to Surrey by tomorrow, won’t you?’ Hermione inquired anxiously to the clerk.
‘Certainly,’ he answered agreeably.
Hermione scribbled a quick note with a borrowed quill to Harry, wishing him a happy birthday and hoping to see him soon. She signed her name on behalf of everyone staying at number 12 Grimmauld Place.
They thanked the wizard who took their packages, promising to gift-wrap them, sensing his customers were in a hurry by the way they were almost bouncing on the balls of their feet.
‘I think we’ll be just on time,’ Tonks commented as they hurried back across the street for Luna.
The words were hardly out of her mouth before they were temporarily blinded by a sudden flash of bright light. Throwing their arms up to cover their eyes, Hermione and Tonks fell to their knees, inexplicably unable to stand. There had been no noise, no warning. Also suspicious was the lack of sound on the street. Hermione attempted to open her eyes, but was met with darts of paralyzing pain stabbing at her eyes when she tried. Her tear ducts reacted to the pain, sending thin streams of tears down her face as she flailed blindly with her arms to locate Tonks. ‘TONKS!’ she screeched in panic. ‘TONKS!’ But there was no reply. Hermione’s ears were ringing with the absolute silence all around her. Before she realized what was happening, her body crumpled under her, causing her to slump over on the street when she lost consciousness.
*****
Luna’s face broke into an ecstatic grin when she saw her father emerge from the staircase.
He had prematurely grey hair and his body hinted of a life of hard work and sleepless nights. Nevertheless, the instant he caught sight of his only child, his face shone with new life.
‘Oh my baby!’ He hugged her close as she buried her face in the folds of his tattered and coffee-stained work robes.
‘I don’t have much time, Dad,’ Luna said softly around a rising lump in her throat. ‘Tonks and Hermione will be back in no time, but I just had to come see you.’
Mr Lovegood released his daughter and looked straight into her silvery-grey eyes. ‘Are you doing okay?’
‘We’re all fine. We’re staying with Ronald Weasley’s family and a few others. Everyone’s safe.’
‘Arthur and Molly are good people,’ he said, reassured. ‘I’m just so glad everyone’s alright. What about the Longbottom boy?’
She blushed almost imperceptibly. ‘Neville’s okay, too.’
‘I’m so glad,’ Mr Lovegood repeated, drawing Luna close again, lightly kissing her pale forehead. ‘I love you, Luna.’
‘I love you too, Dad,’ she whispered back softly.
Then, anticipating Tonks and Hermione to burst through the door any moment, Luna turned to look towards the tiny window in the door. As if a bolt of lightening had struck outside the office, the whole room lit up with a flash of light from the street. Luna ran for the door while her father tried to hold her back. She pushed open the door and started to step outside. The light wasn’t as bright in the alleyway as it had been at the initial flash, but it was harsh on the eyes, and Luna suddenly felt too weak to move beyond the doorframe. Looking toward the street where Hermione and Tonks should have been coming from, Luna say a huge glowing dome of light, several meters in diameter, giving off electric-like sparks. The air was dry and hot, and Luna found it difficult to breathe. Still clinging to the doorframe she saw movement inside the dome. Training her eye, she made out one person standing over two bodies lying in heaps on the street. The standing figure moved their arms in a wide arc and the three figures, as well as the glowing dome of light, disappeared as if they had never been there.
Luna slid to the ground and struggled to catch her breath and process what she had just witnessed. |
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| a short one. i'm an impossibly slow typist. |
[Sep. 20th, 2004|09:12 pm] |
It was nearly 11:30 in the morning when Dumbledore arrived at Grimmauld Place. The locks on the front door seemed to be unlocking themselves (there were supposed to be three different people unlocking specific locks outside in order for the door to open, unless they were unlocked from the inside). Dumbledore evidently had the master set of keys and so he let himself into the hallway.
Molly Weasley noticed him immediately as he stepped through the door and she hurridly whisked the aging Headmaster toward the kitchen.
‘My dear Molly!’ Hermione and the other heard Dumbledore greet Mrs Weasley warmly in the hallway before she led him away. Their subsequent chatter echoed down the hall away from listening ears.
They could not have spoken long before they re-emerged from the sanctity of the kitchen. Scattered around the lounge were the five young people, plus one cat, one toad and one owl. Crookshanks slid off Ginny’s lap, where he had been enjoying behind-the-ear scratches, and slunk off to the doorway. Momentarily, Dumbledore entered the lounge smiling almost inappropriately as Crookshanks, now cradled in his arms, toyed lazily and contentedly with the Headmaster’s long, grey beard.
Making no comment on the fact that the enormous orange feline just got a claw stuck in a tangle of beard-hair, Dumbledore addressed the small group. ‘As I understand it, several of you are looking to go to Diagon Alley for a short while, is that correct?’
‘Yes, sir, it is,’ Hermione replied quickly. ‘Luna and myself.’
‘And Ms Nymphadora Tonks has agreed to accompany you both?’
‘Yes she has, sir.’
Dumbledore’s lined face took on a solemn look briefly before he gave a small smile and nod. ‘Splendid. Now, I know it hardly needs to be said, but I must impress upon you both the importance of staying together. Do not wander apart or take my warnings lightly. As you know, there is a very real danger present.’ He set Crookshanks down on the carpet and peered at the two girls over the top of his half-moon spectacles.
Hermione and Luna quietly nodded their agreement. Perhaps wanting to prevent an overly somber mood, Dumbledore then cheerfully clapped his hands together saying ‘Although I doubt Voldemort has any shopping of great importance to do in Diagon Alley today, I feel confident that you should all be safe. However, I will provide Ms Tonks with a small device which can be used to contact one of us if you happen to run into any complications, but I sincerely hope she will have absolutely no use for it.’ He paused and smiled kindly at the two girls. ‘Now I suppose if the three of you are all ready to go, you may leave. I won’t be long here myself; I need to have a few words with Remus, and then perhaps a bite to eat . . .’ Dumbledore raised his eyebrows toward Molly Weasley, where she stood beside the doorframe smiling broadly.
'Well of course! Anything you’d like to eat.’
‘Bacon, lettuce and tomato?’ he inquired seriously.
The smile on Mrs Weasley’s plump face grew wider and she chuckled. ‘Pickle slices on the side?’
‘My dear Molly, you’re spoiling me with your hospitality! You think of everything.’
As the lunch arrangements were being cleared up, Tonks re-emerged in the lounge.
‘Ah. Our esteemed Auror,’ Dumbledore addressed her. He reached into a pocket deep in his robes and extracted a small device, which he placed directly in Tonks’s outstretched hand. He spoke very quietly to her, so quietly that Hermione could not make out what it was that he said. Confirming her suspicions that it must have been relatively serious, Hermione watched as Tonks nodded her head gravely before seemingly attaching something to a beltloop of her jeans and slipping the mysterious device into a front pocket.
‘All set, ladies?’ Tonks asked Luna and Hermione as she slipped a long, black robe on over her clothes. ‘I know it’s summer and you’d probably rather not wear your robes, but I think we’ll look a lot less conspicuous this way,’ she explained, omitting the fact that the bright, multicolored patchwork pants Luna was wearing might possibly be the most conspicuous item of clothing ever created. Luna didn’t seem to take any exception to the suggestion, and she joined Hermione up the stairs to retrieve their school robes from their respective trunks. Within moments they were leaving, Tonks having changed her hair once more before they left, so that she now had whip-straight shoulder-length ebony tresses.
An old station wagon was put-putting up the street and Luna shot Tonks a look of sheer concern. Hermione interpreted the expression as meaning the same question she had on her mind: what if they see us in our robes?
Tonks grasped the sleeves of their robes before they moved off the front step of number 12. ‘Just wait,’ she whispered softly as the car approached. ‘We’re still on Unplottable property - they won’t be able to see us unless they know we’re here.’
The car stalled out just in front of number 11's front lawn. The engine was cut, then the driver tried the ignition again; there was a bang as if it had backfired, but green and yellow sparks shot out of the grille.
‘Okay,’ Tonks whispered, ‘all clear.’ Then, following her lead, Hermione and Luna climbed into the back of the car.
‘By the way-‘ Hermione whispered, nudging Tonks, ‘I wouldn’t recommend that hairstyle while wearing black robes, Tonks. It reminds me of Snape!’
Luna peered at Tonks curiously, then slightly inclined her head, conceding agreement. Tonks only laughed but said nothing.
‘Where to, Miss?’ the man in the driver’s seat inquired, his face obscured by a mass of hair and beard.
‘Diagon Alley, for three passengers, please,’ Tonks replied.
‘Will do.’ The driver punched three buttons on the console where radio controls are generally located and almost immediately Hermione noticed the backseat of the car become blurry and indistinct while her two companions seemed to dissolve before her eyes.
The next moment the three were seated on an old bench in a dimly lit room.
‘Car number eight from Grimmauld Place. Arrival. Three passengers,’ announced a clear female voice. ‘Nine Sickles, three Knuts, please.’
Tonks stood up and approached a pleasant but strict-looking witch behind a counter near their bench. ‘This one’s taken care of, Hestia.’
‘Just part of the job to ask, dear.’ She was much older looking than Tonks and she gave Hermione and Luna an unconcealed look of suspicious appraisal.
‘They’re with me on business from the office,’ Tonks said vaguely, although the witch named Hestia seemed to understand the broader meaning.
‘How delightful. Oh! Dora, dear, I’m not sure where you plan to take the girls today, but I wouldn’t recommend any ice cream. It’s almost too warm for such sticky things, you know. You might upset something.’
‘We’re just popping in a few places, but thanks for the advice. I suspect we’ll grab something to eat when we get back to the office.’ Waving her hand to the older woman, Tonks ushered Hermione and Luna out the door to a narrow sidestreet off Diagon Alley.
‘Hestia Jones,’ she explained in a low voice, ‘she’s with us. Part of the Advance Guard for Harry last year. Guess she’s keeping an eye on the traffic. Just remember what she said about ice cream - there must be something suspicious going on over at Florean Fortescue’s. We’ll steer clear of there this time around.’
‘Why did she call you ‘Dora’, Tonks?’ asked Hermione, confused.
Tonks gave a humorously exaggerated sigh. ‘The first shift we worked on together I asked her to call me ‘Tonks’, but she argued that proper ladies weren’t referred to by their last names. I tried to argue that I couldn’t honestly be considered a very ‘proper’ lady anyhow, and under no circumstance would I tolerate being called Nymphadora,’ she shuddered as she said the name. ‘So somehow we compromised - she calls me ‘Dora’. Now if only I could convince my mother to do the same.’ |
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| (no subject) |
[Sep. 20th, 2004|06:35 pm] |
don't worry, there should be more soon (i'm busy typing & stuff).
but! i screwed up: luna should have said The Quibbler's office is behind Gambol & Japes, not Dervish & Banges (stupid me, i forgot which was on Diagon Alley & which was in Hogsmeade. not that i actually know where the office is; that completely made up. jo rowling can sue me if she likes, tho i doubt it'll be worth her while.) |
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| getting close to the end of the already-written material. |
[Sep. 16th, 2004|06:55 pm] |
It was still early morning when a beam of sunlight streaked across Hermione’s face, waking her up. She didn’t even open her eyes, instead she pulled the blankets around her more closely and mentally ran through her jumble of thoughts. While instinct told her that she should be focusing on what Tonks was doing by the cellar door the previous night, another memory competed for her attention. After finding Tonks crying, Hermione and Ron had quietly ventured back upstairs to their respective bedrooms. Before she even had a chance to touch the doorknob, Ron had taken her hand in his, carefully as if he were afraid she’d break. The look in his eyes was unmistakably clear; he was infinitely more sure of himself than he had been earlier. This time when they kissed, there had been no surprises and Hermione relished every second of the memory.
There was a sudden movement on the bed and Hermione felt four small feet attempting to step lightly over her abdomen. ‘Good morning, Crookshanks,’ she whispered, careful not to wake the other girls. The enormous orange cat purred like a motorbike in response as he rubbed his squashy-looking face against her open palm. Hermione sat up in bed and scratched her contented cat behind his ears. All at once she realize she was very hungry. I guess I didn’t drink enough firewhiskey to get a hangover, she mused. I don’t feel sick at all. I wonder how Ron’s feeling. She was very glad at that moment that neither of her roommates were awake, as they surely would have passed some embarrassing, snide comment about why she was blushing like a beetroot.
Ginny’ll never let me hear the end of this, she thought silently. Thank goodness we don’t share a dormitory at school.
Hermione flipped off her covers and decided to go downstairs and help Mrs Weasley with breakfast. She paused momentarily before leaving the room to don a fluffy purple bathrobe to cover her pyjamas. The thought of Mrs Weasley seeing her in the moderately-revealing attire she was wearing while snogging her son, loaded on firewhiskey no less, made Hermione feel more modest than usual.
When she reached the kitchen she was surprised to find it empty. Well, more accurately, empty of other people. There was a freshly-brewed decanter of coffee on the counter, the kettle was shouting frantically ‘I’ve boiled! I’ve boiled!’ and several slices of toast appeared to be buttering themselves. As she walked to retrieve a cup from the cupboard, Hermione was startles to see a jet of orange sparks and light shoot around a corner and squarely hit the distressed kettle. ‘Thank you,’ it moaned wearily, then fell silent.
‘Here, keep the cool cloth on it for a few minutes. Yes, that’s right.’ Voices were talking just outside the kitchen door. Oh great, thought Hermione, Is that all I ever do anymore? Eavesdrop? She stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, unsure of if she should pretend she wasn’t there or make her presence known to whoever was talking in the hallway.
‘Thank you, Molly, I really appreciate this. I think I’m ready to slip upstairs for a few hours sleep now.’
Hermione watched the doorway as Mrs Weasley and Lupin started to walk past.
‘You’ve recruited help this morning?’ Hermione heard Lupin ask, then saw his hand gesturing toward the kitchen. Molly Weasley blustered in, wiping her hands on her apron with Lupin following and holding a dishcloth to his temple.
‘Dear, are you alright? Hungry, I dare say. Remus, I don’t think this one even knows how to have a lie-in!’ Mrs Weasley smiled warmly at Hermione, as did Lupin, despite the wound he was tending to.
‘Well I thought I could give you a hand with breakfast, Mrs Weasley. I was already awake.’
‘I wish mine would take a leaf out of your book, Hermione. No, no, you just sit right there and I’ll get whatever you’d like.’ Hermione acquiesced to the older woman and obediently sat down. Lupin gave Hermione a strange, searching kind of look.
‘Hermione. You didn’t happen to be near the cellar last night, did you?’ he asked in his usual, quiet manner.
Mrs Weasley turned sharply from the ham she was frying to see the girl’s reaction.
‘No, I didn’t go down that hallway at all yesterday,’ she replied truthfully. Granted, she had peeked around the corner, but she didn’t actually step into that hallway. She decided to keep this information to herself. Mrs Weasley looked content and returned her attention to the ham. ‘Is there something wrong, Professor?’
Lupin chuckled. ‘Please, call me Remus! I haven’t been your teacher for a few years.’ He paused and a puzzled expression came over his face. ‘Last night was a full moon, and . . .’
‘And you were in the cellar,’ she prompted.
‘Precisely. And when I was in my wolf-form I thought I could smell someone through the door. I couldn’t be sure, though - with all the people in this house, you know. But-‘ he paused to take a sip of his water and it dawned on Hermione that the gash along his temple must have been self-inflicted. He sensed somebody nearby and it made him more wild. ‘I suppose with those heightened senses I got a little beside myself. No real harm done, of course.’ He took a large gulp of water and wiped his lips with a finger. ‘Thanks again, Molly.’ Lupin smiled at Mrs Weasley and gave Hermione an unexpected affectionate squeeze on the shoulder as he turned to leave the room.
Molly Weasley, ever the mother hen, bustles around the room getting breakfast for the household, and slowed down long enough to tip several pieces of fried ham and self-buttered toast onto a plate for Hermione.
‘Something to drink, dear?’
‘I think I’ll just get some coffee,’ Hermione responded, remembering the cup she took out before being distracted by the voices in the hall. She started to get to her feet, but Mrs Weasley commanded her to remain sitting. The older woman retrieved the coffee decanter from the counter and began to pour.
‘Would you like any milk with that?’
‘Er- no thank you. I think I’ll try it black.’
Mrs Weasley shook her head in disbelief. ‘Not another one! Well, I suppose Tonks will be impressed.’
It wasn’t because she wanted to impress Tonks that Hermione decided to take her coffee unadulterated; more like she admired the no-nonsense approach that Tonks took toward her morning brew, as well as her life in general. She appreciated the basic, simple aesthetic. Hermione took a sip of the steaming liquid and was pleasantly surprised. Although the liquid was much hotter without the milk, she found it had a welcome, slightly bitter taste - far more effective at eliminating those early-morning cobwebs of the mind.
As she thoughtfully spread some raspberry jam on her toast, Hermione’s mind wandered once more to the events of the previous night. Without a doubt, it was certainly going to take something pretty important to distract her from thinking about Ron all day long. She spied the latest edition of the Daily Prophet on the far end of the table and thought to herself ,i>When in doubt, read something</i>. Taking a hot mouthful of coffee, Hermione got up to retrieve the paper. She returned to her seat, engrossed in the headlines and pleased to see that neither Viktor’s name nor her own were mentioned. An interesting article about new security precautions at Gringotts bank attracted her attention but as usual, the part which really interested her was continued in a related article on a different page. Oh, maybe Bill will be in this! she thought to herself as she was sorry to have not spoken to him when she arrived at Headquarters. He went to Mrs Longbottom’s house but had to return to Egypt almost immediately after.
Just as she was about to turn the page, Hermione noticed the date printed on the top right-hand corner of the front page. July 30.
‘Oh no!’ She moaned, nearly upsetting her coffee as she dropped the paper to the table. ‘How could I have forgotten?’
Mrs Weasley ran to her side, her lined face radiating pure concern. ‘Dear, what is it? Have they printed that rubbish about you again?’ The kindly woman’s face darkened as she reached to put a comforting arm around the girl.
‘No, it’s not that, thank goodness. But look!’ She held up the Daily Prophet for Mrs Weasley to see the issue date. ‘It’s the thirtieth of July - Harry’s birthday is tomorrow. I had completely forgotten!’
‘There, there,’ Mrs Weasley replied, patting Hermione’s shoulder reassuringly. ‘I’m sure if you wanted to send Harry something it will get there on time. Although I wouldn’t recommend sending anything with Pig or Errol . . .’
‘But that’s just the problem, Mrs Weasley, we don’t have anything to send him. I even meant to buy him a gift when I was in Diagon Alley with Profess- erm. I mean, with Remus.’
Mrs Weasley looked thoughtful for a moment, wiping her hands in her apron. ‘Well, I’m not sure who would be available to go and supervise - we’d have to check around of course - but it might be possible for a few of you to go to Diagon Alley for an hour or so. I don’t think we should risk any longer than that. And it would have to be cleared by Dumbledore, of course.’
‘Oh that would be perfect! Then we could hire an owl to send it. That’s a great idea!’
‘What’s a great idea?’ asked a very disheveled looking Ginny mid-yawn as she entered the kitchen with Luna.
‘Your mother thinks that if one of the Order members is available, some of us could go to Diagon Alley to buy Harry a birthday gift,’ Hermione responded, stealing a glance at Mrs Weasley, glad to see that she was smiling and nodding her head.
‘Not all of you, mind. That was an awful chance we took with you lot going down to the library. And you should get an idea of what you’re looking for first before you go, so it won’t take as long to find something.’
Hermione nodded in agreement and Luna looked politely interested, while Ginny was seated at the table with her head propped up by her hands, eyes shut and breathing evenly.
‘Ginevra Weasley! Kindly stay awake at the table, would you?’
‘Hm. Mum.’ Ginny rubbed at her eyes with her fists and yawned deeply. Mrs Weasley gave her only daughter a look of pure exasperation then shrugged her shoulders in Hermione and Luna’s direction.
Luna, who had still not uttered a word since entering the kitchen, walked to the counter and poured up a cup of the scalding hot coffee. Wordlessly she placed the cup on the table in front of Ginny. The petite redhead girl regarded the cup for a moment, as if it had appeared out of thin air, then took an enormous gulp of the burning liquid. Instantly Ginny’s eyes bulged out and she dropped the cup on the floor, littering the tiles with a burning hot mess of coffee and shattered crockery.
‘Honestly,’ sighed her mother as she flicked her wand deftly at the mess, repairing the cup and Vanishing the coffee.
‘Sorry Mum!’ Ginny gulped, looking at least somewhat more awake for the experience. ‘I didn’t think it would be so hot!’ Hermione very quickly stifled a laugh as she was once more reminded of Ron’s first reaction to the firewhiskey.
She had barely cleared the image of Ron sputtering over the bottle of Ogden’s when the real Ron and Neville also joined them in the kitchen. Ron bit his lip, no doubt unconsciously, and quickly grabbed a piece of toast when Hermione caught his eye. Neville quickly sat down at the table and began to inspect his hand rather closely, keeping his head bent toward the table and avoided looking at anyone. Oddly enough, neither boy noticed the unusual behavior of the other, but Hermione and Luna did. The girls shared a quick glance before noticing Ginny yawning into her hand again. Mrs Weasley did not notice any of these things, as she was busy serving breakfast to those who had not yet eaten.
‘Tea or coffee, Doormouse?’ Hermione jokingly addressed Ginny, referring to the sleepy character at the Mad Tea Party in Lewis Carroll’s Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. Neville chuckled quietly and Ginny herself wore a sheepish grin.
‘I just can’t help it! It’s like I can’t get enough sleep or something.’ She laughed easily, but her eyes retained the glazed appearance of someone half-awake. ‘Anyway, I’ll try some more of that tar you had, Hermione. Maybe it’ll perk me up a bit.’
So Ginny took careful sips of a fresh cup of coffee while they ate and Hermione relayed the plan. They discussed what they should get for Harry and came up with several ideas. Agreeing that it would be a joint-gift, they decided to pool their funds and get him an enchanted picture frame that allowed a person to speak with the person or people in the picture (‘Colin could take a picture of all of us when we get back to school,’ Ginny had suggested), and assortment of Honeydukes candy, as suggested by Ron, and a Homework Quill.
The last item was Hermione’s idea. It seemed as though none of the others had heard of a Homework Quill before, so she obligingly explained the device.
‘A Homework Quill is almost like an ordinary quill, but it is especially useful when writing up homework assignments. It is charmed to read what you have written and the ink changes color if there’s a mistake or a wrong answer.’
‘Brilliant!’ Ron interrupted. ‘How about getting me one for my birthday, too?’
‘No, I already know what I’m getting you for your birthday, Ron. A great big, fat-‘ She paused for dramatic effect, ‘dictionary. Honestly, Ron, you are the most atrocious speller I’ve ever met.’ He goggled at her in disbelief, then saw her barely wink at him. Since when has Hermione acted like this?
‘Anyway,’ she continued, ignoring Ron’s slightly wagging head, ‘it’s not like it will give you the answers; you’ll still have to come up with those on your own. It just lets you know when you’ve made a mistake.’ She paused briefly before adding an afterthought. ‘I wouldn’t recommend either of you using one for Divination homework, either.’
They continued to chat animatedly for some time, paying little attention to the growing hustle and bustle in the house as more people awoke and began crowding into the kitchen.
‘That looks like some awfully strong coffee you ladies have there!’ said a voice behind Hermione’s chair. She spun around to see Tonks, as cheerful as usual, standing behind her, grinning. She gave Hermione a playful wink. ‘Addicted to the caffeine already!’
Hermione laughed along with the rest of the table, but sent a puzzled look in Ron’s direction. She knew he had to be thinking the same thing she was - what happened to Tonks last night and why was she acting so happy this morning? They had seen her crying last night; was this cheerfulness just an act? Hermione noticed Ron’s eyebrows raided as if her were asking the same question, then he shrugged. Hermione decided there was not much use in pursuing the matter now, as there were other things to be done.
‘Have you seen Remus this morning, Molly?’ Tonks asked in a casual voice while pouring herself a cup of the increasingly popular coffee.
Mrs Weasley moved cautiously around her to tend to the second batch of frying ham, as if she were afraid of Tonks knocking over the scalding decanter (which wasn’t such a far-fetched notion). She addressed the frying pan instead of the young Auror when she replied. ‘Yes, the poor dear is gone up to bed. Last night was a particularly bad transformation and he had some scrapes to look after.’
Hermione knew that in this case when she said ‘scrapes’, Mrs Weasley really meant ‘nasty, ragged gashes’, but she supposed she didn’t want to worry Tonks or the others listening. Nonetheless, Tonks’s face paled slightly, but she quickly put her happy smile back on again.
‘He’s alright, though, isn’t he? Should anyone go up to check on him?’
‘Tonks, he’ll be perfectly fine. Here, Have a slice of toast.’
She acquiesced and sat down, taking several slices of toast off the serving tray and prodded them with her wand until they were well smeared with peanut butter.
‘Erm. Tonks?’ Hermione ventured as Tonks swallowed a sticky bite of toast. ‘I know I’ve asked you before, but do you think you could do us another huge favor?’
‘Not planning another excursion to the library, are you?’
Hermione smiled. ‘Not this time. I only just realized that it’s Harry’s birthday tomorrow and we wanted to send him a gift. Mrs Weasley said that if someone was free today, perhaps we could go to Diagon Alley for an hour.’
‘I don’t have any problem with that,’ Tonks replied easily. ‘I have duty this evening but if we’re only going for an hour, that shouldn’t matter. Who’s coming?’
They all looked around the table at one another.
‘Could I stop in to say hello to my dad?’ Luna spoke up for the first time that morning.
Tonks weighed the option in her mind for a minute. ‘Where’s the Quibbler office?’
‘Just off the main street, behind Dervish and Banges,’ the blonde girl replied.
‘Oh well then, that shouldn’t be any trouble at all. That’s right across from the Owl Post office - we’ll need to go there anyway to post the package to Harry.’
Luna beamed and cast an undecipherable look at Hermione.
Ron was shaking his head. ‘You can count me out. More shopping - that’s girl stuff.’
Hermione rolled her eyes in exasperation. ‘So you don’t want to help buy your best friend a birthday gift?’
‘Nah, I trust you girls to get something nice. Neville, you’ll stay with me, right? I need to get you back for that game of chess.’
Neville smiled self-consciously at Ron’s remark about him winning the last game of wizard chess. He took a quick look at Hermione and Luna, the latter of the pair who seemed to be staring off into space. ‘Yeah sure, mate. I’ll stay.’
Tonks turned to look at Ginny, who shrugged her shoulders and yawned yet again.
‘You guys go on without me. I’d like to go, but I’m so sleepy I’ll only slow you down.’ She stretched her arms above her head. ‘Just make sure to get something nice, like Ron said. I’ll see you when you get back.’
‘Alright, before you get ahead of yourselves, I’ll go contact Dumbledore and make sure he doesn’t have any objections.’ Mrs Weasley walked over to a smallish fireplace on the far side of the kitchen. Hermione surmised it must have been intended for the use of house elf correspondences. The older woman cast the Incendio charm at the grate and instantly bright flames danced there as if they had been burning all morning. Crouching down to be level with the fireplace, she flicked a pinch of glittery powder into the flames.
‘Albus Dumbledore, Hogwarts,’ she addressed the fire clearly, but after a few moment’s wait it was not the Headmaster’s face which greeted her.
Paying no attention to the merry flames licking at her lined face, Minerva McGonnagal said with a slight frown ‘Albus isn’t here, Molly. Is something the matter?’
‘Not specifically,’ Mrs Weasley replied with a smile, ‘Tonks was offering to accompany Hermione and Luna to Diagon Alley for a short time to get a birthday gift for Harry. We just wanted to hear the Headmaster’s opinion.’
McGonnagal looked greatly relieved. ‘I see. I cannot imagine Albus objecting to a very short outing, however I cannot say with certainty. He left Hogwarts early this morning with business around London, so it is likely that he will make a stop to see you as well.’
‘Thank you, Minerva, we’ll keep an eye out for him.’
'Possibly by lunchtime,’ McGonnagal deadpanned, her eyes bright and the tiniest hint of a smile playing at the corner of her mouth.
‘Right. I’ll put an extra pot on,’ Mrs Weasley said brightly as they broke the fire connection. Turning back to the table she said, ‘You’ve got a few hours to kill. Take your time.’
They abandoned their empty dishes which Mrs Weasley cleaned with a sharp wave of her wand and left the kitchen, Neville picking up the Daily Prophet where Hermione had dropped it earlier, and turned pages to the crossword. |
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dumbledead's journal