Paradox
Chapter one
Loosing Hope
February, 1999
The Wizard Radio was turned up to its loudest and the deep, desperate voice of the reporter bounced off the dusty walls of Grimmauld place. A kettle was placed on the stove in the kitchen and Hermione Granger's hands shook as she lit it, listening hard.
"…and this just in; the whereabouts of Voldemort has been confirmed. He was last seen in the wreaked city of Sydney, Australia. The death toll has reached two hundred and fifty-eight and many more witches, wizards and muggles are in need of medical assistance…"
A jagged breath passed through Hermione as she lifted down a few teacups from the cupboard. She made as little noise as possible as they landed on the marble bench-top.
"…two muggles approached me just hours before a large explosion erupted from the Sydney Harbour Bridge; 'We don't know what's going on,' said the woman of the couple, 'we moved here only two years ago from England and there has never been such violence.'
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! Hermione jerked and the three mugs fell one by one onto the hard floorboards, shattering to pieces.
Remus Lupin, sitting at the kitchen table, turned the dial on the radio and it suddenly silenced. "Hermione–"
"No, I – I've got it," said Hermione abruptly, and she kneeled down to the floor and pointed her wand at the mess. "Re – reparo!" The pieces twitched towards each other weakly before falling back to the ground with a low thud.
"Hermione," said Ron uncertainly from the chair next to Remus. "Those voices, were they your parents–?"
"Obviously, Ron," snapped Ginny, across her brother. "She didn't just drop the fine china for the fun of it."
The red-haired girl jumped up and dropped down beside Hermione, muttered a quick "Reparo" and rubbed Hermione's arm consolingly. "You okay?"
Hermione sniffed and nodded, but her heart wasn't in it. She gazed at the mended cups and traced the engraving of Julia on one of them carefully with her finger. This tea set was her mother's – one of her favourites – and it had been given by her father as a Mother's Day present. It was one of the many mementoes of Harold and Julia Granger that Hermione had taken from the Granger house after she had casted the memory charm.
Feeling Ginny's hand tense as she also saw the name; Hermione grabbed the bench-top edge and pulled them upright, juggling the teacups in her other hand. She sat them on the bench ,leaned over the burning kettle and breathed deeply, something she always did to prevent tears.
"I miss them so much," she said shakily to no one in particular.
"I know," Ginny whispered.
At that moment, there was a loud BANG of the front door being thrown open in the hall, letting the wintery wind travel through to the group in the kitchen.
Hermione and Ginny turned around to see that Kingsley Shacklebolt and Arthur Weasley had just sped into the kitchen with a very reluctant-looking Mundungus Fletcher trailing behind.
"Any news?" asked Remus nervously. Hermione knew that there was only ever one response.
"The worst," said Kingsley sadly, and he threw today's edition of the Daily Prophet on the table.
The men crowded around it, and Hermione came over to peer over Ron's shoulder to read the main article on the page;
THE MRB HUNTS DOWN RUNAWAYS
A group of five muggle-born witches and wizards have been captured by Miss Dolores Umbridge and other members of the Muggle-born Registration Board. The five, previously on the run, are included in the two thousand muggle-borns been sentenced under slavery by the Ministry of Magic in the first two years of the Dark Lord's reign. "It is a very foolish decision to hide from authorities," said Umbridge outside the Wizengamot after the muggle-borns' trial. "We advise all muggle-borns to co-operate with the system."
Hermione pulled her eyes away from the yellow page. A mixture of disgust and fear charged through her body. Disgust of how the Wizarding World was treating muggle-borns – keeping them as slaves for the horrible Purebloods of society. Fear, however, because she was one of the many muggle-borns still on the run.
Well, she wasn't technically on the run. Grimmauld Place had become a secret once again after Severus Snape was killed. For two years, she had called the murky, dark magic-tainted corridors home.
At a time, enslavement sounded appealing.
Hermione's attitude would have been better if she wasn't locked up in the blasted house 24/7 just with Crookshanks. She mainly spent time cleaning and spending time in the Black Library – at least that was educational – and only ever had company when the Order had something to discuss. Like she always told everyone, "If I were with Ron and Harry –"
But she would cut herself off every time, unable to speak while dealing with the internal pain that came with the mention of a name. Harry –
"But Hermione'll be okay, right dad?" Ron's voice threw her mind off track. For a moment there, she forgot that there were people in the room.
Before Mr. Weasley could answer, Kingsley quickly took the paper back up again. "Sorry, wrong page," he said and flipped the newspaper so that the face of a messy haired, green-eyed boy stared back at them. The title read, in large black letters:
POTTER'S BODY FOUND
The temperature in the room seemed to have dropped past zero. Nobody spoke, but even if they had, Hermione wouldn't have heard. The world seemed to shake at its core and everything turned hazy. Her throat went dry and she felt her eyes heating with tears.
They've found him. They've found our Harry.
With a long, cutting swallow, Hermione chose to read on.
The battered body of Harry Potter has finally been found by Hogwarts students in the Forbidden Forest whilst serving detention. The two students, Malcolm Baddock, 15, and Graham Pritchard, also 15, have been treated for shock.
Harry Potter's death has been questioned for two years and many rumours have been spread about how he had been killed. For those who do not know, at the infamous Battle of Hogwarts, Potter had disappeared without warning and had never returned.
By examining the body, professionals have come to the conclusion that the rumour stating Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, being killed by the Dark Lord with none other than the his famous move, the Aveda Kedavra Curse, is true. The reason to why Harry Potter gave himself to the Dark Lord is still unknown, but it is believed that he sacrificed himself for the future of the Wizarding World.
"And a fat lo'f good that did, eh?" Mundungus said once mostly everyone was done reading.
Hermione looked to Ron. He was still staring at Harry's picture, as was Ginny. She gripped Hermione's hand tightly and her face was white as snow.
"Do you know what this means?" asked Remus to Kingsley. His voice was smoother than usual. A flat monotone.
Kingsley sighed heavily. "It's over," his gaze wondered to the kitchen cupboards. "He's gone. There is nothing standing in between Voldemort and the population, both wizard and muggle. People will realise this, and they will panic."
Hermione always admired how Kingsley can be so calm, so to-the-point in desperate situations.
There were several moments of silence until Mr. Weasley shuffled uncomfortably. "Hermione," he said, trying to sound cheerful, "Molly baked some brownies this morning – I've got them here…"
Hermione noticed the box of brownies in Mr. Weasley's hands and took it, smiling weakly. "Thanks."
As all the men and Ginny left later that day, Hermione found herself back in the kitchen re-boiling the kettle for the tea she had never made. It was a quiet night as always, and she curled up into her bed with Crookshanks just before midnight with her favourite photo album labelled Hogwarts, a History. The album was a mix of newspaper articles and still, muggle photos. She would smile at the ones that had taken Ron by surprise, usually with his mouth full or in mid-sneeze. She would pause briefly at the photos containing people like Neville and Luna, sometimes laughing at the stupid expressions people pulled in the background.
But, she would stop the longest at the many photos of herself with Ron and Harry, the Golden Trio, the Unstoppable Three. They were inseparable.
Unless Voldemort was involved, of course, Hermione thought with watery eyes before shutting the album and placing it firmly on the nightstand.