As per usual, I appreciate reviews. I love my readers. I love even more people who show their pride in my story on other sites.
Much love,
xHx
Hermione opened the door and threw an arm over Ginny's shoulder.
"We need to talk," she muttered, walking with the redhead back up to the Burrow.
"What about?"
"You'll find out."
Ignoring Molly in the kitchen, the two girls made their way up the stairs to the redhead's room. A sleeping bag had been laid out on the floor.
The brunette sat down on the bed and just said it, blurted it out, not wasting any time. "I slept with Legolas."
The redhead's brown eyes bugged out of her head, her mouth fell open, and she stammered before saying, "As in, with?"
"It wouldn't exactly be worth mentioning if that weren't what I meant, Ginny."
"So…give me the details!" Ginny plopped on the bed next to her, crossing ankles.
"It was the middle of the night, in the outdoors, behind the wall in the great fortress of Rohan, Helm's Deep. We were right next to the drainage hole of the wall. His tunic landed in the water when we were…ahem…ripping off each other's clothes. At least we were able to keep them intact." Hermione blushed.
"What did the spell do to that?" Ginny knew that until they'd left for Middle-earth, Hermione had never done that. Ever.
"It was undone. Simple as that."
"Oh, bloody hell."
Hermione turned her head slightly. "Tell me about it."
"Does Ron know?" Ginny put an arm over Hermione's shoulders in a sort of comforting gesture.
"He can't know until the time is right. Neither can Harry." Taking a deep, shuddering breath, she put her head in her hands. "According to Elvish custom, Legolas and I are married now."
"No!" Ginny gasped. Hermione just sat there, still as a stone. "That can't be right."
"It is. I read about it in Lord Elrond's library…after fashioning a pair of glasses from a tree branch and enchanting them to translate the Elvish into English."
"Does that make Draco Malfoy a polygamist?"
Hermione sat up, looking at Ginny with furrowed brows, confused. The redhead explained. "He's slept with almost the entire female population of Hogwarts that will consent. Even Lavender Brown got in on the action…although I'm fairly sure they were both drunk." Ginny laughed sarcastically.
"Then yes, to the Elves, Draco Malfoy would be considered a polygamist. It's part of why we can't tell Ron and Harry about what happened. Harry probably guessed some level of the truth before the fight, but it's better if we wait," Hermione say, toying with the angel-wings bracelet charm she'd been given at the age of six. It had been beside her bed in the hospital wing.
Dinner was rather awkward. Hermione kept silent, even when Ron asked her a direct question. Ginny couldn't even get her to say anything.
And then Arthur had said something she was hoping for.
"Oh, Ginny, I've got a new mirror for you. It's in the shed out back."
Hermione lifted her head. "I can bring it up," she said.
Everyone stared at her like she'd sprouted antlers.
"Hermione, are you all right?" George asked.
"I'm perfectly fine, thank you."
"Oh, leave the poor girl alone, George. She's been through enough today without you making her feel worse," Molly said, smacking her son over the head.
"Sorry, Mum."
"That sounds like a wonderful idea, Hermione. Why don't we go get it after we've all finished eating?" Mr. Weasley said.
"Yes, that sounds ideal."
Bill leaned closer to her, sliding a piece of parchment along the wooden table. "Open it later," he whispered.
That night, after the entire house was silent but for the groaning ghoul upstairs, Hermione began to read.
Dearest Hermione, the letter began. I'm sure you're wondering why I've chosen the eldest Weasley child to give you this note. It's because I knew Arthur would never get it past his wife. He's barely managed to get her to accept his constant nights of staying back in the shed.
We all miss you. Merry and Pippin wish you well and wonder how you all are still alive when they saw you die. Gimli is still seething over his drastic loss to you at Helm's Deep. Éowyn misses you and still wonders how you escaped her uncle's notice until after the battle. Aragorn just wants to make sure you remember that if you ever need help, we're here for you.
I'm worried, Hermione. Gandalf tells me it's insane. Everyone else tries to keep me focused. I can't. I should be at your side, fighting the same evil you face, protecting you from all who would harm you. But I am not and I cannot.
Please. I miss you.
Legolas
Hermione folded the letter up and held it to her chest, smiling, knowing that she was not alone in her worry and sadness.
Again, I am so sorry for making you wait. I hate being tired all the time! I also am aware that this is far below my length standards. Sorry, loves.
Much love,
xHx