Chapter 7: No Matter What the Truth Is
"Tell me again, Albus, why we need her?" Moody asked with customary surliness in his voice. He paced back and forth the length of the table in the Headmaster's office. Half of the Order was assembled and seated. Smaller conversations could be heard but once Moody spoke, all attention was put on him and Albus.
"She can help us," Albus answered vaguely.
"Specifically - how?" Moody stopped his pacing and focused his attention on the older man. His magical eye even stilled and was fixed on him.
"She was here when the second war started. She may have key information about Voldemort she's unaware of. I have a feeling she is meant to be here."
"Oh... You have a feeling. Why didn't you say so? Come to think of it, I rubbed my magical eye last night and I have a feeling, too. She's going to be the end of us. With her being here it's inevitable. So why don't we all sit in our seats and wait to get slaughtered." Moody sat and crossed his arms over his chest, his face set in a scowl.
"Moody-" Sirius started, rolling his eyes.
"What? It was bad enough when Snape was here," grumbled Moody. "At least we knew from his history that he wasn't one to betray our cause. I wouldn't trust him with my life but I knew if it came down to it, he would at least give me a quick end. This girl could very well divulge to the Dark Lord everything we say in these meetings; all our plans. This is a bad idea, Albus. I hope we all don't wind up dead because of it."
"We've survived this long, Moody," said Neville. He was seated across the table and two seats away. "That is Albus' doing. He's kept us safe."
"Not all of us." Susan's voice was hollow. She leaned against one of the windows of the Headmaster's office, staring into the haze of early morning. Her husband hugged her from behind, their hands intertwined.
"Most of us." Neville revised somberly.
"You really don't realize how close we are to failing." Moody whispered the words the other members dared not say aloud. It was entirely quiet in the room so everyone heard his comment. His magical eye suddenly swiveled in his head, towards the door. "She's here and with that blonde poof you call a potion's teacher."
Everyone turned their attention to the door as it opened. They found Moody was right as Hermione and Draco walked through the door. Hermione paused when she saw everyone staring.
"Three guesses of who the subject of conversation was before we entered the room," Hermione quipped quietly to Draco.
"You," loudly answered Moody.
Hermione's eyes found Moody at the other end of the table near Albus. She gave a small smile. She had always appreciated Moody's gruff honesty.
"Please, everyone. Take your seats. We need to get started," Albus announced. Those standing occupied the remaining empty seats. Hermione and Draco took seats close to the door.
"I believe, since she is now here, I should make a formal protest to her presence," Moody stated, standing.
"Sit down, Mad-eye," said Sirius roughly. "You're just going to embarrass yourself."
"I'm not going to wait to end up on the wrong end of her wand-"
"You said earlier you were going to wait for the slaughter," Albus said, his tone bemused.
"That was sarcasm, Albus. I'm sure I'm not the only one here who has concerns." Quiet murmurs amongst the members began. "Did you even consider what the boy may think?"
The room hushed and turned its attention to Harry. Everyone knew Moody always referred to Harry as 'the boy'.
Harry paid no attention to the stares.
"Let me make this clear," Albus started loudly. His voice strong with importance. "Dr. Granger is here to stay and if anyone can see a problem with that, you may leave. But I will consider it a resignation from the Order."
All eyes went to Moody. The members waited to see if he made a move to leave. He just stood, staring at Albus and his challenge. Moody slowly lowered himself into his seat.
Hermione could see Sirius put his hand up to his mouth to cover the growing smirk on his lips. She mirrored him, trying to hide her own budding smile.
"Now, we have gained some intel that the robbery on The Historical Wizarding Museum of Ancient and Modern Artifacts was indeed the work of Death Eaters. I received a report from Magical Law Enforcement Patrol. What was stolen was a collection recently donated to the museum as well as a multitude of archived artifacts. Unfortunately the donation was anonymous and uncatalogued but the artifacts that were in storage are another story. The interim curator will be sending the files of each of the artifacts. The curator was unfortunately killed in the process of the robbery.
"Hermione," continued Albus. "I would like you to go through the files when they arrive."
She gave the Headmaster a nod as whispers bubbled up from the room's occupants. Hermione gave a quick glance in Harry's direction. He sat, staring down at the table, undisturbed by the mutterings. Hermione's gaze shifted to Ron who was next to Harry.
He was leaning in and whispering to a familiar petite woman on his other side. She noticed that their hands were clasped.
"Another matter has come to my attention. A small group of Death Eaters was spotted in the town of Woodstock in Oxfordshire. It is a primarily muggle town but the mother of one of our current students owled me when she recognized one of the Death Eaters: Peter Pettigrew. I am sending Tonks to scout the area. Alastor, I'd like you to join her. Stay in the shadows. We don't want Voldemort knowing what we are doing."
Moody's magical eye swiveled to Hermione's direction. She knew what he was thinking and she couldn't help but feel a little smug that he couldn't do anything about it.
The meeting continued for another half hour. Most of it was the members reporting the progress of their assignments. Much of it Hermione didn't understand. She thought it was partly because the members kept their explanations to the bare minimums. Hermione noticed many suspicious glances in her direction as they reported their findings.
When the meeting was done, Albus asked Hermione to stay before turning to talk with Neville and Harry. Draco turned to Hermione whispering quickly to her. "I have to get some lesson plans ready for the school year. I'll see you later?"
She nodded as he stood. She stayed seated, busying herself with looking down at her nails while waiting for everyone to walk by. She could feel every set of eyes on her as the members passed. From the corner of her eye she could see a pair of legs stop a few feet from her. Hermione didn't have to see who was in front of her to know who stopped. She gazed up to find Moody before her, a scowl on his face. She kept her face impassive.
"You betray us again and I will happily go to Azkaban for whatever I do to you," came his raspy voice. Both of his eyes were trained on her.
"You touch her, old friend, and you won't get a chance to go to Azkaban," Sirius replied, a broad tight smile on his face. He grabbed the other man by the arm and led him out of the room but not before giving Hermione a quick wink.
She returned a small forced smile. She had always admired Moody. Now he was whispering threats at her. He won't be the last to do so. Hermione closed her eyes at the thought.
Once the thought was gone, she raised her chin and opened her eyes, immediately finding Harry's gaze locked onto her. He was still standing with Neville and Albus, though it seemed the conversation was just between the other two.
Hermione watched as Harry slowly looked away from her and brought his attention to the conversation. She wondered how long he had been staring.
A minute later Harry strolled out of the room without a word.
Albus motioned for Hermione to join him and Neville.
"I believe, since classes will be starting soon, you should get a wand and some supplies. You'll need some time to practice if you are going to aid Professor Tobbletop. Neville here has offered to take you to Diagon Alley and I think it is a splendid idea. You two will be able to catch up," said Dumbledore, obviously more relaxed now that the meeting was over.
"Oh. Umm. Okay. I guess I could use a wand. I haven't thought about it until now." I've been so long without a wand, she thought. A shiver of fear and excitement crept up her spine.
"We could even drop by Florean Fortescue's for some ice cream," said Neville. His smile widened as he continued. "I haven't been there in ages."
"Sure." Hermione answered simply.
"And there's always Flourish & Blott's," Neville suggested slyly.
Hermione's smile perked up at the mention of the bookstore.
Albus chuckled. "I suppose you should get going then."
Sirius paced outside of the Headmaster's office, waiting for his godson. Minutes passed before Harry finally appeared.
"Hey," Harry said in greeting when he noticed Sirius.
"I've got some time and I'm starving. Let's go to the kitchens," Sirius suggested.
"Sure." Harry shrugged as he lead the way down the hallway.
"What did Albus want?" Sirius inquired as they strolled down a staircase and through another corridor.
"He was hoping I would take Hermione to Diagon Alley to get a wand," Harry answered. "If any one shouldn't have a wand, Hermione is at the top of the list." He chuckled to himself.
"Why is that funny?"
Harry turned his head to look at his godfather. "It's funny that he even suggested it. I think that Albus has finally lost it."
Sirius stopped walking. It took Harry a moment to realized Sirius wasn't beside him. He backtracked to where the other man stood. "The kitchens are down one more floor."
"Is it that insane for Albus wanting Hermione to be able to defend herself while she's in the Wizarding World? I know he's not the brightest 'Lumos' around but sometimes he has a good reason for what he does. She may become a target of the Death Eaters."
"Why are you siding with him?" Harry asked in an accusing tone. "And with Hermione? You seem to defend her every chance you get. Like today, with Moody."
"I'm not siding with Albus," Sirius said. He held his hands up in a surrender pose. "I am thinking about Hermione's safety. So yes, I defend her. No one else is. Moody was threatening her life. You haven't been where she has, Harry."
"Neither have you," stated Harry in the heat of the argument. He instantly realized his mistake. Harry was cut off before he could continue.
"How easily you forget..." Sirius' voice trailed, his face betraying his anger. "I have to go."
"I thought you said you were hungry?" Harry asked quietly.
"Not that hungry anymore," answered Sirius gruffly as he brushed passed his godson and down the hall.
"What if it were you, Sirius? What if Albus brought Peter in here and asked you to escort him around?" Harry asked raising his voice.
Sirius stopped and turned, facing Harry. "Well, there is one major difference between them, Harry," Sirius paused before responding. "Peter was guilty."
Sirius went to walk down the hall again but turned instead. He headed back to his godson.
"I expect that kind of thinking from Moody. He's always been like that. The Order members, they don't know any better. I am so angry right now because I know you, Harry. I know you know better. You saw what I went through. You know that sometimes it's not that simple." Sirius paused to catch a breath. "I expect more from you because I love you. And I know you are better than those bigots like Moody. Please... don't prove me wrong."
Sirius continued down the stairs and out of sight.
As the bricks moved Hermione felt anxious and excited at the same time, wondering if it would all be the same.
It was. Hermione's stomach had butterflies in it, just like the first time she had walked through the brick archway.
Dozens upon dozens of wizards and witches crowded the stone streets of the alley. The noise of the conversations hit Hermione like a blast of wind. Owls were screeching and cats were meowing. To anyone else it would be meaningless sounds but to Hermione it was music to her ears. Music she hadn't heard in a long time.
Walking down the street Hermione remembered all the places she had gone to for her schooling supplies. But everywhere she turned, she saw people whispering and pointing. She started to think this wasn't the best idea.
She could see that Neville, too, noticed the people. He made a point of small talk and jokes that would only have been funny if they were younger. Neville pointed out the usual crowd of children, staring into the window of the Quality Quidditch Supplies store, where the newest broomsticks model were first released. She couldn't help but laugh noticing the nose prints from the previous adult admirers.
They continued their stroll down the alley passing many shops. They passed by Flourish & Blott's. Hermione could hardly stop herself from running into the store. She took a deep breath and reasoned with herself that her wand was the first priority. The next store they came upon was Ollivander's.
"Hermione, is it all right if I go to get some supplies for my classes while you get a wand?" asked Neville as they stood outside of the shop.
"Sure," replied Hermione nervously, putting her hand on the doorknob. She didn't really want to be left alone but she thought it would have been rude to say something. She felt like a scared child that needed her parent to guide her.
Neville gave her a reassuring nod before making his way through the crowded street. "I'll be right back."
She fought through her feelings and pushed open the door. A chime sounded as she opened the door. Mr. Ollivander was standing at his desk, writing in the book on it.
"Vine, Dragon Heartstring. Ten and three-quarters of an inch long. Good for enchantments and bewitching minds. Miss Granger." Mr. Ollivander looked up. His leathery wrinkled face expressionless. "I didn't think I would be seeing you. Ever again, in fact. "
"No one else did either. I just need a wand for a little while. I'm not planning on staying long so do you have a sort of wand rental or something?" Hermione asked as she walked up to the desk.
"Wand rental?" He stared at her as if she had asked to break some wands for fun. "You should know better, Miss Granger. There is only one wand suited for each wizard.
He paused. "I received a package last month. With a note. It asked me to fix the wand within," said Mr. Ollivander as he traveled to a back room. A moment later he came back into the main room of the shop with a small, thin package.
"I fixed the wand you sent. Some of my best work. It will conjure as if it had never been snapped. That will be three Galleons for the repairs." Mr. Ollivander put the package on the desk in front of her. He looked at it longingly. It seemed as if he didn't want to let it go.
"I didn't send it to you," said Hermione, her words slow with confusion. "I didn't even get the pieces when it was snapped."
"Well, someone did, and it's your wand." His voice was impatient. "You do want it, don't you?"
Hermione paid him with some of the money she had exchanged and walked quickly out of the underlit, overflowing shop. When she was out of the store, she opened the box. She studied the wand as her heart rate increased.
It had been eight years since she had touched it. Since she had last used it to work a spell. It had been so long she couldn't even remember the last spell she had performed. With hesitance she touched it. Hermione thought she might experience a shock upon contact but that was not the case. There was a slight tingling in her hand. The wand warmed in her hand and hummed as if recognizing her. She smiled to herself, not realizing how much she missed the feel of magic.
As she lifted the wand she pulled some of the cloth that rested on the bottom of the box. A small piece of parchment fluttered to the ground. She picked it up and read it.
Welcome Home, Hermione.
The script was unfamiliar to her. Who kept my wand for all these years? And how did they know I was coming back before I did? thought Hermione. Her breathing began to labor. Who sent this?
"What's that?" asked Neville's voice next to her.
Hermione jumped, her pulse racing in her ears as she put the note and wand back into the box and closed it.
"Oh nothing. Just a little note I found in my wand box. You know, a customer service thing. So are we done here?" asked Hermione trying to distract him. It seemed to work.
"Albus thought it would be wise to get you some robes for-," Neville didn't get a chance to finish the sentence because there was a blast of light at the end of the alley. People were screaming and running past Hermione and Neville. One lady ran by screaming, "Death Eaters are here. Death Eaters are here. Run for your lives!"
Hermione turned to run down the alley to where the blast was but a pair of strong arms held her back. They turned her back around to face Neville. Since when did he get so strong? she asked herself.
"What do you think you are doing?" Neville asked her loudly to be heard over the commotion.
"If the Death Eaters attacked, then there are people hurt. I'm a doctor. I can help them," replied Hermione just as loudly.
"Hermione. I know you are a doctor and you're compelled to help people but as long as you have that mark on your arm you are no different from them, no matter what the truth is. If you are caught with your sleeve up then we'll lose you again because the laws have changed since you've last been here. Arthur won't be able to save you. We can't afford that. We don't have time for that." Neville said as gently as he could, but with all the screaming he had to yell himself.
Neville let go of one of her arms. He pulled her into one of the nearby shops. Before the door closed Hermione looked back. She saw a group of Death Eaters. Their masks were illuminated by the multitude of colors from each curse blasting out of their wands. Her heart pulled. Part of her wanted to go and help everyone those hexes affected. Another part of her wanted to remember every curse she ever knew and face the Death Eaters that were slowly traveling toward her.
The store was abandoned but she knew why Neville brought her here. He dragged her up to the fireplace and took a small pouch from his belt and threw some powder into the fire.
"Go, Hermione. We're going back to the Hog's Head Tavern," said Neville in a hurry.
Hermione stepped into the fire and yelled her destination.
Within moments she stood, slightly dizzy, in a dimly lit pub with no occupants except for the owner. Aberforth Dumbledore looked up from the bar curiously.
Hermione was going to answer his look but Neville came rolling out of the fireplace. He knocked her over. She fell hard, on her back. She yelped in pain.
Aberforth strode over to help Hermione. He offered her his hand.
"What are you trying to do, Neville, kill the girl?" he questioned.
"Sorry, Aberforth. We were in a hurry. The was an attack in Diagon Alley. Death Eaters," replied Neville getting up and dusting himself off.
"What?"
There was another yelp of pain. Hermione had been half way to her feet with Aberforth's assistance when he was informed about the attack. The pub owner dropped her on her tailbone and she hit it, hard.
"Oh, my dear. I am so sorry. Let me help you," said Aberforth, crouching to help her once again.
Hermione just held up her hand to stop him. With trouble Hermione got up. When she tried to straighten up, she hunched right back over.
"I think I need to get to the Hogwart's hospital wing." Hermione said through clenched teeth, her hands on her knees for support.
The two men went to help her but she spoke to stop them as she saw their feet move forward. "It's okay. I'll make it. I can get there on my own."
"Yes, Hermione, and that is after you walk in the wrong direction for how long? Come on. I'll carry you to the infirmary," said Neville. He picked her up, ignoring her protests of medical facts and advice, and walked out of the pub and down the street of Hogsmeade to the school.
"There you go. How do you feel, Dr. Granger?" Madam Pomfrey fixed Hermione up in a minute.
"Do you really want to know?"
"I did ask." The nurse nodded.
Well, I feel confused, sad, anxious, crappy, old, angry, used, excited, rotten, bruised, and tired. Oh, but wait, there's more. My life has changed so drastically in the past month I think my head is still spinning. Besides the fact that a few minutes ago my back felt like the punching bag of a heavy weight boxer, I think I'm having a mental breakdown. Do you have anything to cure mental breakdowns? Hermione thought quickly, yelling in her head.
"Fine. I feel fine," she answered the healer.
"Good," replied Madam Pomfrey softly, a sympathetic look dawning her face as if she knew Hermione was lying. "You can go whenever you like." She walked off to her office as Neville walked in.
"Are you feeling better?" Neville asked.
"Yes. Very much," she replied, still sitting on the bed Neville had placed her on. "Um... Thank you for earlier. For stopping me in Diagon Alley. I've spent years helping people. It's just instinct now. I didn't even think about where I was. And thank you for getting me to the infirmary."
"Oh. Don't mention it. You've gotten me out of so many things, I can't even count them all. It's a little of my debt repaid. And to be honest, I'm glad to get that chance," he answered her sincerely.
She studied him as she had studied many of the people she had once known. He had turned into a confident and strong adult. He was older, of course, but she did see regret and a tiredness in him. Hermione remembered back to what Arthur had said in his study and now that she was encountering more people, she saw it. A tiredness of those who were worn down by war. It didn't sit well in her chest. Neville had already suffered the loss of his parents, not to death, but insanity. He deserved a good happy life. And with her efforts she could give him that.
Hermione smiled, contrary to how she really felt and hopped off the infirmary bed. She exited the infirmary feeling physically better, telling herself that there was another person she was doing this for.
Neville sat at his desk in his office, trying to complete his lesson plans before the term started. The day's events kept creeping into his mind. Neville finally gave in, taking a break from his work and delving into his thoughts.
Hermione's instinct had kicked in just as his had. He wanted to go after the Death Eaters and protect the innocent people in the alley. But he knew they were out numbered and he knew his orders. Albus was clear. Keep Hermione safe and that's what he did.
Another thought had kept tugging at the back of his mind since he found out Hermione was coming back. The memory of the day eight years ago when he saw the dark mark on Hermione's arm.
It had been a Hogsmead weekend. Neville and the rest of the boys in his dorm were at The Three Broomsticks enjoying a drink. They all rushed to the window when they heard blasts coming from the street. A small group of Death Eaters were throwing curses at anyone who passed. Those able began yelling counter-curses. The Death Eaters disapparated save for one that was lying on the ground.
Neville had stared in shock. The hood had been pulled back to reveal Hermione. He remembered clearly the feeling in his stomach as he saw her face and the blank stares of Harry and Ron. He never understood their reaction. Eight years had passed and that question still hung in his mind.
Despite all the evidence that was presented, Neville always knew Hermione was innocent. This was Hermione. She was loyal to the end. Neville knew Voldemort had taken her and set her up, throwing a blow at Harry.
Neville shook his head trying to get rid of his thoughts. All of that didn't matter now. She was here and for some reason he felt a new hope rising in his chest. He smiled to himself, glad to have her back.
Hermione jerked awake, remnants of a dream slipping from her mind like sand. She was in her room at Hogwarts, in the clothes she had worn yesterday. She was lying on her stomach, atop her bed. Her wand lay next to her, neatly tucked in its box. She clutched the note in her hand. Sun streamed through the many windows, warming her back.
Hermione focused on the note. She examined it closely. A shiver of fear ran up her spine as she thought of the possibilities of who had written it.
"With my luck, it's probably someone who wants to kill me," Hermione said to herself. "But that's not really a stretch being here."
"Would you please stop talking to yourself? You'll go crazy that way," said a voice from the corner of her room.
Hermione whirled around on her bed. "You!"
