Wow, thank you all SOOO much for the reviews! They have all been absolutely wonderful, they really make me feel amazing! Thanks for sticking with me through my mass periods of procrastination, writer's block, school work (which is never fun). Oh! And BAND! So much band, I haven't had time to do anything. Again, thank you for putting up with me. You all really are awesome!
Chapter Seven- Preparations
I'd like to say the next few days are easy, relaxed, fun. Away from any fears of the war, the hunt, painful thoughts of Mad-Eye. That would have been wonderful.
Alas, no such luck.
Though there is an obvious sadness about the Burrow that lasts a few days after Harry's arrival. Mrs. Weasley almost immediately puts us all to work for the wedding. Cleaning, setting, changing sheets, folding clean clothes, gathering dirty clothes. There is so much to do that I barely have time to think, which is saying something. The kindest explanation for this behavior is that Mrs. Weasley wants to distract us all from difficult thoughts of Mad-Eye and our recent journey. But after a couple days of this, I begin to suspect another motive.
All of the jobs she assigns Harry, Ron, and me seem to, suspiciously, keep us apart. I haven't been able to talk to Harry or Ron properly since that first night. It is getting frustrating, because how are we going to be able to do anything if she's too determined to just let us talk?
Ron confronts her about this on the second day since Harry's arrival. I am in the next room, washing the windows with the same spell I taught Ron. Their voices waft in through the open kitchen door.
"Mum," he says in an undertone. "why are we doing so much ridiculous rubbish? I need to talk to Harry and Hermione, we need to get ready, and we can't do that while you have us sitting here folding 'decorative' napkins!"
"Ronald Weasley, you agreed to help your brother prepare for his wedding," she says, flaring up at once, not bothering to keep her voice down. "And why do you need to talk to Harry and Hermione? It can wait, I'm sure. If the job you three are trying to do is so important, Dumbledore would have told the entire Order."
"But, Mum-"
"And anyway, I think it is inappropriate for you to have Hermione upstairs in your bedroom alone. That is very immature of you, I thought I had taught you better."
Although slightly surprised, I immediately start to giggle, stuffing my hand in my mouth to stifle the sound. I hear Mrs. Weasley's footsteps begin and fade away as she steps outside. Ron still hasn't left the kitchen, and I can't resist tiptoeing through the door to see his expression.
He is staring at the open back door, his jaw dropped, his face a mingled look of shock and horror. I can't hold it in anymore; I break out into a fit of uncontrollable laughter.
He slowly turns to me, his ears turning a flaming shade of scarlet.
"Just- no- she-" He sputters. "That's-"
Still laughing, I back out of the room, leaving Ron to figure out his issues by his lonesome.
After returning to my window, I am struck with a sudden thought. What if we have to leave at some random time, without knowing it beforehand? Rather safe that sorry...
And with that, I begin to pack everything I think we could possibly need. Extra clothes for each of us, blankets, sweaters, sweatshirts. I raid Ron's closet numerous times, which seems to have a layer of dirty laundry on the floor that has not been touched since last summer. Smells like it too. I offer Mrs. Weasley that I do the laundry one day, and she gives me a rather surprised and relieved look.
I gather every bit of dirty clothes in the house, most of which were hiding in Ron's closet (although a surprising amount were under Harry's bed), sort it all into piles like I used to do at home, light colors, dark colors, underpants, jeans. Then I cast a charm to set them washing themselves.
I continue to gather spare tubes of toothpaste, combs, and everything else I can get my hands on. I completely empty my Extended beaded bag, holding it upside down in the room I share with Ginny while I was supposed to be gathering our sheets. It took a few minutes for everything I had in my bag to spill out on the floor, but soon I had a small mountain consisting of probably 90% books and the rest whatever else I had stuffed in there that last morning.
I stare at the mountain for a moment, contemplating it. Do I really need this many books?
Yes.
But will my bag fit all of Ron and Harry's stuff?
It's got an Undetectable Extension Charm on it!
Yes, but half of these books are about completely unnecessary topics!
What if you get bored? You won't want to be reading the same books over and over again. Hogwarts, A History, anyone?
"Oh, shut up," I say aloud. Immediately I hear a loud guffaw from the staircase from the other side of the closed door: Fred or George, obviously thinking I talk to myself. Understandable because I just did, but that was one time!
I set to work organizing all of my junk into piles based on what each item is, clothes, books, necessities, by hand, then give it up as a bad job and use my wand to do it. When did I buy so many books? And shoes, I have too many shoes. Why did I bring shoes I wore in my third year? They don't even fit.
When I am finally done sorting and organizing, I rip the sheets off the beds, push the piles into the corners of the rooms, run downstairs, hoping Mrs. Weasley didn't notice my absence.
She did.
"Oh, there you are, Hermione. I was beginning to get worried. Did the sheets fight you? They've been known to do that." Her voice had a slight sarcasm that was even worse than Ron's when he is annoyed.
I am saved from responding by Ron and Harry bursting into the kitchen.
"Oh there you are, you two, I have something to tell you," Mrs. Weasley says. "The Delacours will be arriving this afternoon, and I want this house to be spotless."
Shocked, Ron turns to her. "It isn't already? We've been working for the past week on this place!"
"Hermione, could you dust the sitting room for me, dear?" Mrs. Weasley continues, ignoring him. "And Harry, if you would help Ginny set the table for dinner. Ron, clean your room." And she bustles out of the room.
Muttering savagely under his breath, Ron stomps back up the stairs, while Harry grabs a handful of cutlery from a drawer. I pull out my wand, step into the sitting room. Running my finger atop one of the bookshelves hanging, disheveled, on the wall by the door, I find a complete lack of dust of any kind. Someone, Mr. Weasley, probably, must have already dusted in here.
Gratified, I poke my head back through the door into the kitchen. No sign of Mrs. Weasley. With that, I tiptoe, quickly and quietly, to the stairs and up to Ginny's room. Stuffing all of my books back into the empty beaded bag, I sneak up all the way up the stairs to Ron's room.
I knock gently on the door, wait for an answer. There is a creak of bedsprings, and Ron's grumpy face appears in a crack between the door and wall. It brightens almost immediately when he sees me, probably having expected Mrs. Weasley to come and scold him for not cleaning his room.
"Oh, it's you, Hermione," he says. "Come on in." He opens the door and steps back to let me in.
Ron's room is remarkably unchanged from how it looked when we were younger, just as mine was before I left. Bright orange walls, posters of the Chudley Cannons covering almost every surface, a ragged, dull orange bedspread. It makes me feel like I am fourteen again, and am seeing his room for the first time. The only thing that changed from that time is the extra bed, crammed into the corner. A mass of clothes and rubbish is littered all over the floor, so I have to be exceptionally careful where I put my feet, or I may fall into it and never come out.
Ron collapses on his bed again, face first. He mumbles something, his voice muffled by the bedsheets. I pry my eyes away from the immense mess on the floor and say to the back of his head, "Your mum's right, Ron. How do you live in this place?"
He rolls over on the bed, saying, "Most of it's Harry's!"
"Oh, I'm sure it is," I say sarcastically. "Since when has Harry worn a Chudley Cannons T-Shirt and a single size 12 shoe?" I ask him, holding up those very items. I have no idea where the other shoe is.
"Okay, well, that stuff is mine. But it's not my fault! I can't clean up in here while we're supposed to be cleaning out the rest of the house."
"Really? I was under the impression that that is what you are supposed to be doing now." I cock my head slightly and give him a slightly berating look.
Closing his eyes and stuffing a pillow over his face, Ron mumbles, "No... maybe later..."
I can't help but smile. Pulling out my wand, I use it to move the junk from the cleanest corner to the other side of the room, then sit down there, legs crossed beneath me. Ron, hearing what I am doing, looks up hopefully, as if he thinks I am pulling a miracle and cleaning his room for him. No such luck.
"Well, Ron, if you're not going to clean your room, maybe you can help me out with sorting some books," I say, holding my bag upside down again, so all of the books I stuffed in it topple out and onto the floor.
"Sort out books?" Ron asks, confused. "Why do you have to sort out books?"
"Seeing as we're going to be traveling for a while with Harry to look for the Horcruxes, I'm going to want to bring some books to read, right? Just in case we need to research things we see while we're out there."
Staring at me in awe, he says, "You're amazing, you are. Have you been packing since we got here?"
"Of course, and I'm still not done yet. Did you know how much rubbish you have in your closet? It's taken me days to clear that thing out."
"Oh, so that's where all my stuff went. I kept wondering why I could see the floor sometimes..."
I settle myself down and pick up the first book (Which Wand is Which? A Compendium of Woods and Their Magical Properties and Uses in Wand-Making) and stare at it for a moment, contemplating it. I've read it a few times, and found it interesting, but to what use could it prove in a search for Horcruxes? I set it off to the side in a pile I mentally label Not To Take and reach for the next book.
"Hey, Hermione..."
"Mmm?" I say absently, staring at the cover of Hocus Pocus! and Other Muggle Terms Defined.
"So we're going to be gone for a while traveling, right? Well Dad and I had this thought. What'll happen when we don't turn up at Hogwarts this year?"
Finally looking up into his own face poring into mine, I say thoughtfully, "That's right, what will happen? I wonder what the teachers will do, what they'll think?"
"Well, again, Dad and I had this thought. They're bound to check the family, aren't they? And if I'm not here, they'll know I've gone with Harry. So we... you know what, I think I'll show you first."
"I beg your pardon?"
Ron doesn't answer me, but instead stands and offers me his hand, pulls me up from the ground. I drop Hocus Pocus! and allow him to lead me to the landing outside of him room, curious.
Ron pulls his wand out of his pocket and points it at the low ceiling, which the top of his head is almost touching. After glancing down the stairs, on the lookout for his mother, no doubt, he whispers "Descendo", and a hatch opens right beside his head, and a ladder slides gently down it to rest at his feet. A horrible, half-sucking, half-moaning sound comes out of the hole, along with an unbearable smell that makes me cover my face with both hands. Ron climbs the ladder first, then gestures for me to join him.
I climb the ladder with one hand, keeping the other pressed firmly against my nose. As my head and shoulders enter the attic, I see Ron's ghoul, only it was completely different from all that I have ever read about them. It seems to be around Ron's shape and size, and instead of being slimy and bald like a normal ghoul, it has bright, ostentatious orange hair and is covered from head to toe in gross purple blisters. It is across the room from us, banging on pipes and the walls, creating a surprisingly loud racket. I am grateful it hasn't seen us, because ghouls are known to have flaring tempers.
After staring at the ghoul for a moment, I turn to Ron with a whisper. "Why is your ghoul wearing your pajamas?" My voice comes out slightly nasally, because I still haven't removed my hand from my nose.
Looking slightly sick from the stink, he says, "He's supposed to be me. See it?"
Glancing back at the ghoul, I can kind of see what Ron is talking about. They're not twins, but a person that didn't know Ron well at all would think he was another Weasley. Except for the weird blisters and pustules.
"Not really. Since when do you have boils covering every inch of your body?"
"I'll tell you in my room. I think I'm gonna chuck." He gestures for me to climb back down the ladder first, then quickly follows.
Back in Ron's room, I settle myself back into my corner, surrounded by my many books, look expectantly at Ron to explain to me what is going on. He closes the hatch to the attic and his bedroom door firmly, then settles himself on his bed to talk to me.
"When we're gone, the Death Eaters are going to come knocking, to see where we are. And if I'm not here, they'll know I'm with Harry. But if the ghoul is me, then they won't have any reason to believe that I'm with Harry! And that'll keep my family safe."
I can see where he is going with this, but it still doesn't explain something. "That makes sense, but you still haven't answered my question. If the ghoul is you, why is it covered with pustules?"
"We're going to put out the story that I caught spattergroit this summer. That'll explain why I'm not at school, too. Good, eh?"
I have to admit, the plan is brilliant. Spattergroit is seriously dangerous and contagious, so no one from the Ministry will want to go near to the ghoul to verify that it really is Ron. And the bacterium in the blisters is a rapidly growing one, quickly taking over every organ in the body, starting with the skin. Once it spreads to each organ, it completely shuts down its functions, like when it spreads to the uvula, one can't talk anymore.
I tell Ron all of this, and he just stares at me for a second before saying, "Oh, yeah, exactly. That's exactly what happens..."
I give him a smile to let him know that he hasn't fooled me at all, then turn back to the next book. I hear occasional footsteps on the stairs outside Ron's room, but no one interrupts us. We are silent for a while, until Ron has another train of thought.
"What did you find out about the Horcruxes? That you didn't tell me the day Harry got here?"
Glancing up again from my book, I say reluctantly, "Oh, that. Let's just wait-"
But I never get to tell Ron to wait, for at that moment, his bedroom door creaks slowly open and Mrs. Weasley's head pokes into the room. I freeze, remembering that I am supposed to be dusting the sitting room, then hide behind the massive pile of books.
Mrs. Weasley turns to look in my direction, perhaps seeing my movement out of the corner of her eye. Apparently disregarding this as one of the posters on the wall doing some fancy spin move in the air, she turns back to Ron, who had jumped up from the bed at the sound of the door opening.
"Ron, have you done anything to this room? Only your closet looks any better than it did two hours ago." She seems slightly surprised that it appears that he has actually cleaned up a bit. "Dinner's ready. Have you seen Hermione anywhere? She wasn't in the sitting room when I went looking for her."
Thankfully, Ron does not betray himself by glancing in my direction. Instead, he says smoothly, "No, I haven't seen her. Have you checked with Ginny?"
Even better, Mrs. Weasley completely believes him. "No, I suppose that is probably where she is. Alright, come on down for dinner." And she exits the room again.
I straighten back up as soon as I hear the door close, give Ron a quick thumbs up. He grins, then steps across the room to help me again.
Wow. Finally done. That took a while. Again, thank you so much for reading this story, it really means a lot to me!
As always, please tell me what you think (or just yell at me for procrastinating). Good and bad, it really helps me become a better writer. And if anyone has any ideas about a scene or idea they would like me to write, a Ron/Hermione moment, Hermione/Harry friendship moments, anything of that nature, just let me know! I'm always open to new things!
