Love's Odyssey in Death's Design
VII
As Hermione appeared in the wild and untamed field of the Burrow, a wave of exhaustion overtook her, the physical combining with the mental fatigue that had been present for the past two weeks since the end of the War. Apparation in such quick succession took a lot out of a witch or wizard and she was feeling the effects of it now, especially coupled with the hangover that had been slowly fading away following her departure from St. Mungo's. The sudden recollection of the night's events elicited a soft gasp of shock from the brunette as her hands clasped at every inch of her body, checking for any injuries or deformations. She was blessedly unharmed. Which was quite a feat to be able to proclaim after magically transporting an evil psychopath to the place where she had been tortured by said psychopath less than two months prior.
Verily, Bellatrix had not tried to kill her, nor had there been a pack of Death Eaters lying in wait on the grounds of the ancient home to ambush her. Thinking back on it now, Hermione could not help but feel very stupid, because there could have occurred far worse an outcome upon arrival than Bellatrix simply wrenching herself away from the younger witch with a disgusted grunt before completely deserting her, taking hurried though determined strides up the manor's winding walkway. Aware of her good fortune, luck really, enough that would make any self respecting Leprechaun die of envy, she had not wasting another moment in Disapparating from the premises of the place that still haunted her nightmares.
Now approaching the Burrow, Hermione quickly attempted to gather her thoughts. There would be no room for error when delivering the news that Voldemort's most faithful was not only alive but free as bird, nor would there be room for omitted details when it came time to assemble the battalion of Aurors needed to detain the dark witch.
She needed to act fast.
At her sharp series of knocks, the door to the precariously tilted magically enforced home was swung open wide, revealing a rather frazzled looking Molly Weasley. The redheaded witch looked as if she had not been to bed that night despite the late hour, nor the night before that. There were dark circles beneath her eyes and the fine wrinkles time had caused were more prominent, seeming to have added even more years to her age. But all of that quickly was rendered irrelevant when a loud squeak of shock and relief rent the air and Hermione was pulled into a bone crushing hug.
"Hermione, dear! Thank heavens! Let's get you inside, come come, we've all been beside ourselves with worry!"
The brunette was hustled into the kitchen and led to the large wooden table in the center. The flames in the brick fireplace were burning down to a few crackling embers but candles lit the room, giving it a warm orange glow. The sound of the dinner dishes washing in the sink gave the place an even more homely feeling, as did the light ticking of the family clock, the hands depicting the faces of each of the Weasleys. Five of the hands were pointing towards 'home'. The smiling faces of Bill and Charlie the two eldest sons, were pointing toward the scripted word 'elsewhere' and the remaining two hands were now blank, pointing upward like a regularly clock signalling midnight or noon. Hermione looked away quickly, not at all desiring the direction her thoughts were attempting to take.
"We heard you had been taken to St. Mungo's," the voice of the Weasley matriarch cut in and the younger witch turned her attention back to Molly, grateful for the timing, "but before we could so much as gather around to Floo there straight away, another owl arrived claiming you had disappeared from the hospital and no one had any idea where you had gone!"
Hermione was suddenly alarmed when Mrs. Weasley began to sniffle through the words, tears spilling down her ruddy cheeks until she realized almost simultaneously that the display of emotion was coming from a place that did not only have to do with that night but her obviously noticeable absence since the funeral. But she was not yet ready to have that particular discussion nor apologize for being so distant.
They all had something, or someone, far bigger to worry about.
"Mrs. Weasley, please, is everyone awake? I need to speak to you all immediately and it can not wait."
Though evidently taken aback by the urgency in Hermione's words and tone, Molly nodded and quickly wiped her eyes before bustling out of the kitchen to amass the rest of the family. One by one, the Weasleys arrived. Arthur Weasley first who looked just as surprised though glad as his wife had been to see Hermione safe and sound, followed by Percy, George, Ginny, and lastly Harry.
"'Mione! You're all right!" the dark haired bespectacled wizard shouted, surging forward to embrace her. Hermione tentatively hugged him back, though she stepped away before the hug lasted too long, using the greeting she sent to Ginny as an excuse. Still, the smile she aimed at the youngest Weasley though, felt forced and not entirely genuine.
"Hermione has important news to share," Molly called out amidst the excited chatter and questions and a moment later, she had their undivided attention, all eyes on her watching and waiting expectantly.
There was a glimmer of hope shining in the gazes of both Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, especially pronounced in the latter's and Hermione imagined they assumed she was about to announce her intentions of finally moving in. Unfortunately for them, such a thing was farthest from her mind.
"Bellatrix Lestrange is alive."
Unlike the revelation to the Healers in the hospital, this time the statement was received with sharp gasps and exclamations of disbelief and outrage. George Weasley jumped back from the table, to his feet, his face gone nearly red as hair in anger, his brows furrowed deeply over incensed eyes.
"Mum killed that hag!"
"I saw it," Ginny piped in furiously, gripping Harry's hand tightly in her own, "I saw her die!"
Hermione could only watch as questions were barked and harsh oaths were sworn. Mrs. Weasley was clutching her heaving chest, seeming on the verge of hyperventilation. Harry was just staring back at her, his expression entirely unreadable. It was like a small storm had quickly gathered up winds and speeds, propelling itself into a chaotic twister that wrecked havoc on the kitchen. A sharp, shrill whistle suddenly cut through the din, Mr. Weasley rising to his feet as quiet settled over the table.
"Hermione, are you sure of this?" he asked, brows furrowed heavily, his usually jubilant features gone as serious as that of a strict Hogwarts professor.
"Certain, sir," the brunette murmured, the blunt edges of her teeth worrying at her lower lip, "I - I'm about positive. You see, when I left the Leaky Cauldron, I caught the Knight Bus and Lestrange boarded some time after me. When I saw her, well, I fainted and that's how I ended up in St. Mungo's." She let out a deep breath she had not been aware she'd been holding, "And then I felt a burning, pulling sensation on my arm, you know, where she...yeah. I don't understand it really but for some reason, I Apparated away from the hospital and I - I found her lying on the side of the road."
"The cut on your arm? You're saying it led you to her?" Mr. Weasley asked slowly and Hermione nodded.
"Like I said, I don't really understand it myself. It was the oddest sensation, as if I had almost been summoned. But when I asked her, she didn't seem to know anything about it either."
"Was she injured?" Molly asked, seeming to have found her voice at last. Like the rest of the family, she was trying to make sense of the words coming out of Hermione's mouth with evident difficulty. But no one had scoffed, laughed, or disregarded anything she had said yet, and so Hermione took it as a sign to continue.
"No, I don't think so," she said with a shake of her head, "She didn't appear to be anyway, maybe she fell? I dunno. She didn't attack me though and she doesn't have her wand. She asked me to take her to her to Malfoy Manor. And I did."
"You what?" Harry exclaimed, green eyes widened in shock and he too abandoned his chair, "Hermione if what you're saying is true, do you know how dangerous that is? She could have killed you!"
"I know," Hermione sighed, rubbing at the crease between her eyebrows, "I know, it was stupid but once we got there, to the Malfoy's, she didn't say or do anything to me. She just...left and I Apparated here. I mean, I couldn't bring her here could I? At least now we know where she is and we can get the Order involved and - and the Ministry. She wanted to go there specifically for a reason. Right?"
The more, she realized, she was trying to justify her actions, the stupider Hermione felt. In the moment, by the side of the road, she had thought she was handling the situation the best way possible. But now, judging by the looks on the faces of the Weasleys, it seemed as if she had made some great error that no one was able to speak on. Perhaps she should have brought the dark witch to the Burrow, but as she had considered before, what would have happened if Bellatrix had managed to overcome them all? Taking Lestrange to the manor had seemed to safest thing to do at the time.
Hermione did not realize that she was crying until Ginny stepped forward and wrapped her arms around her. This time, the brunette welcomed the embrace, needing the comfort. Merlin only knew how this problem was going to become rectified, but in the here and now, she appreciated the gesture.
"If she is alive," Arthur said, "She needs to be captured and brought to trial."
Hermione nodded, stepping away from Ginny to regard the Weasley patriarch. "I know she is alive Mr. Weasley and I want to help in any way I can."
Harry may have defeated Voldemort, but Bellatrix Lestrange was just as evil as her former Lord had been. Her hands were covered in the blood of countless witches and wizards - Neville's parents, Sirius, Tonks, just to name a few, and Dobby, the House Elf who had sacrificed himself to save them all from the mad witch's clutches. Hermione wanted to see her suffer the same way her victims and their families had suffered, the arrow of vengeance piercing through the heart of all of the guilt and anguish that had consumed her since the Final Battle. She needed to do this.
"I will send an owl to Kingsley at once, letting him know everything Hermione's just told us," said Arthur, kissing his wife on the forehead, "I imagine the Order will want to convene here first thing in the morning, so I think it best everyone try to get a bit of rest before then?"
"Yes, yes of course," Molly said, drawing herself to her full height to address her children, "Everyone off to bed this instant and Hermione dear, I will not hear of you not staying the night. You will room with Ginny." There was no arguing with the particular tone.
Hermione waited for the others to leave from the kitchen, muttering among themselves in the wake of the bomb she had just dropped. She did not at all desire to be subjected to the questions and the demands they were all sure to have. Mrs. Weasley kindly offered her a cup of hot chocolate, but the brunette declined with a shake of her head. Despite how tired she felt, she highly doubted she would be able to get any sleep. It was hard to come by enough, sleep, in light of everything that had recently transpired. After tonight though, Hermione honestly believed she might never sleep again. The idea of Bellatrix Lestrange possessing the ability to track her down, like a predator stalking and imminently catching its prey, sent a shudder through her body, her hand reflexively reaching for her wand though Hermione knew there was no immediate danger current within the Weasley kitchen, the only potentionally deadly thing in sight being a set of chopping knives sitting upon the wooden counter.
Sighing, she began the ascent up the stairs, her hand running up the polished bannister as she did so. Maybe if she just laid her head down, fate would have mercy on her and sleep might blessedly come.
The sound of muffled whispering met her ears and it was from the landing that Hermione caught sight of Harry and Ginny sharing a long embrace. She watched from the shadows between candlelight and dark as Harry pulled back and drew a gentle caress down the redhead's cheek, watched as she leaned into it, Ginny's eyes glistening with unshed tears. Hermione's heart gave a nasty thump in her chest as she watched the Chosen One plant a soft, lingering kiss on his girlfriend's lips. The kiss deepened, Ginny's arms lifting to wrap around Harry's neck and she pressed herself closer to him with a breathy groan.
Hermione turned away, the scene quickly becoming too inappropriate for her to be witnessing, and she nearly tripped on the last stair in her hurried movements to continue on to her room. She did not understand the feelings that were washing over her as she wrenched the doorknob open and stepped into the somewhat untidy quarters. Envy. Anger. Pain. Betrayal? But why should she feel betrayed? That made no sense. She tried to work out the category where each emotion should be placed. It was strange, Harry nor Ginny owed her no sensitivities or discretion when it came to their relationship. But still something within her stung deeply and it was not merely a physical sensation. It seemed to flow through her like an electrical current, wires charged with the poisonous emotions fusing togther. They thrummed and pulsed, like a second heartbeat, an entirely separate entity from her own self.
She kicked the door shut, with more force than she had intended, the loud slam resounding throughout the house's second story. But rather than feel embarrassed for causing the noise, the bang seemed to clear her thoughts, the negativity morphing into an odd sort of satisfaction. Even more puzzling was that in the next moment, her heart suddenly felt curiously light. As she flopped down onto the bed and her head hit the pillow, Hermione felt as if she was...flying.
Author's Note: A bit of a filler chapter, though still necessary for the plot. So the Weasleys know...but do they really? *winks* What oh what will become of Bella now as we know her stay at Malfoy Manor was cut short, so to speak? What will this mean for Hermione? How will she prove her story to be true? And what is up with Hermione's emotions spiralling even more out of control than they've been as of late? Ah..so many questions that need answers that will come in due time. I promise. Heaps of thanks and gratitude for the support! You guys are the best for real :) Until the next update -bellanoire, over and out!