Chapter Ten: September
Author's note: TH here! I love you all. You've been so wonderfully devoted to these characters, just as much as I am. School is… rough, at the moment, but luckily, I pulled through alive and well! Now I'm on holiday, and I promise to update as much as I can and get myself on a schedule so that I never leave you with a break that long ever again. We've so far to go, but don't worry, things are going to get real interesting with the two of them SO SOON. I'm so excited about these next few chapters! Ta for now! – TH
I am exhausted.
I work my fingers down to the bone every day scraping dried bits of whatever we've had for dinner off of plates and bowls and cups- whatever magic can't get off is my job, since I'm still allowed nowhere near my wand in a work capacity. However, with working so hard, Molly's finally started to trust me a bit more and see that I can actually work through a day by myself without her asking me every 5 minutes if I need to sit down or tell me that I'm starting to look pale.
I've realized that I'm an extraordinarily pale girl since all of this badgering began.
The Entrance Hall is finished- it took a lot longer than expected, but it's done. That means it's time to move on to repairing the hallways, the West Wing, and then hopefully after that, The Hospital Wing. I don't sit in on meetings lately, I'm annoyed by all the constant bickering about what will change when the castle reopens.
If I'm being totally honest with myself, though, it's because it's an easy way to avoid seeing people I don't want to see. Percy and I still haven't talked about everything that happened- I think that's for the best, really. Chalk it up to feeling vulnerable after Ron left, paired with being out of my bloody mind with fever. Ron.
I haven't thought much about him. Most nights I'm just too tired to, really. I don't think I'm angry anymore, just… numb. Is numb the right word? He has every right to be mad. I have every right to be mad. No one is wrong, and no one is right.
And I hate that. It would be much easier if I could just hate him, like I used to when he left because he was being foolish and a prat, like usual. But this time… this time it's different.
Maybe that's just me justifying what I did with Percy. I have no idea anymore. My head's become a very dangerous place lately.
Working helps. I work with Fleur, Molly, and strangely, Xenophilius Lovegood, every day. I'm learning bits of French and watching Molly and Fleur start to get on really well- it's nice to see them getting along. Mr. Lovegood tends to mind his own business, but he makes the best baked potato soup I've ever had. Of course, he thinks it's a cure for something called skervin blindness, which we all apparently have, but nevertheless, it's delicious. Molly tried to get Ginny to help out too, but she wouldn't have any of it. Said she wouldn't leave Harry's side ever again. It's sweet, but I miss her. I barely get to see anyone anymore.
We wake up before everyone and put together the adult's baskets of food to drop off at their tents while Molly makes porridge for the kids. That's usually my job, to hand them out while everyone's still asleep. We eat while we work and the minute we stop, it's time to clean the dishes and get set for lunch. We eat our lunches after everyone's done, usually while we're doing the dishes for dinner, and during dinner, we actually get to sit with everyone. That's the only time of day that I get to see anyone.
Well, George stops in occasionally to wreak havoc on his Mum and Bill comes in to kiss Fleur just when she's starting to get cranky- I swear, that man has a sixth sense about her. And Luna's nice when she stops by, though it's never for long, since she works out in the Forbidden Forest. Hagrid's said that she has a knack for talking to Centaurs- in fact, they seem to enjoy her company quite a bit.
I'm too tried to write more, but I promise I will later. When I finally get enough sleep.
Hermione shoved her pen and the book underneath her pillow- she couldn't be bothered to use a quill anymore, she was simply too exhausted, so she had broken out her pencils and pens and retreated back to the Muggle side of her a bit. She stretched herself out on her back, flexing her fingers and toes while she stared at the ceiling of her tent. September already. A week ago would've marked the first day of school for Hogwarts students, but Hogwarts was still, bit by bit, being repaired. If they finished the West Wing, people could start moving out of tents and stay in the classrooms, which would be a considerable achievement when it started to get colder. The chill was already starting to settle in a little at night- the days were still scorchingly hot, but the nights it had started to drop bit by bit.
Hermione threw her blankets on top of herself, and within seconds she was fast asleep. That night she dreamed of Hogwarts, pure and whole, just the way she had seen it on her very first day, like it was all just a beautiful dream.
When she awoke 2 hours before dawn, her entire body protested, furious with the hour and with herself for sleeping so long. Molly was bound to be awake already and cooking, humming even. As she pulled her jeans on, leg by leg, she cursed people who were able to do things like hum at this ungodly hour, and pulled a mangy looking shirt on. A shower. What she wouldn't give for a shower. Cleansing charms were great, and did wonders, but nothing beat just taking an ice cold shower on mornings like this. She grabbed her wand off the nightstand table and shoved it in her pocket, grumbling as she trudged down the alley towards the kitchen tent. She could already see the smoke pouring out of the 7 little chimneys and heard Molly whistling animatedly. Whistling Hermione decided is just as bad as humming. As she neared the tent, she saw at least 12 little baskets all neatly lined up in rows, and ducked inside.
"Good morning!" Molly chimed as she stepped inside, Mr. Lovegood giving her a strange little bow as he continued putting apples inside baskets and levitating them to the front flap. "Sleep well, dear?"
"Hardly enough." Hermione yawned out, glancing around the kitchen. "Where's Fleur?"
"Oh, she's not feeling well. Not well at all!" Molly practically sang, stirring the porridge with one hand and conducting her wand so that various spices picked themselves up off the shelf and poured themselves into the bubbling pot of porridge. Hermione's brow furrowed. Molly seemed in an awfully good mood for one of her little kitchen staff to be ill- in fact, the one time Hermione had ever been late, Mrs. Weasley almost pulled her own hair out. "Not particularly well this morning."
"That's a shame, then." Hermione proceeded carefully. Perhaps Mrs. Weasley was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. That certainly wouldn't do anyone any good. "Should I carry on with the baskets, then?"
"Such a shame!" Mrs. Weasley crowed, and then gave Hermione a lusty wink. "A shame to have sickness. In the morning." Hermione watched her as she squealed like a girl. "Sickness in the morning. It's morning sickness- what a dreadful thing. That's the worst thing, to be sick in the morning." Hermione's eyes went wide as she frantically scanned the room to make sure no one else was there.
"You don't mean she's-"
"PREGNANT!" Molly screamed, with a shriek so loud it almost deafened her. She abandoned the pot altogether, and leapt into a jig that made the spices she was controlling fly all across the room, plastering the walls of the tent with cinnamon and nutmeg. "FLEUR IS PREGNANT!"
"But how do you-" Hermione sputtered out as Mr. Lovegood let out a great whoop and spun Mrs. Weasley into a jig, abandoning his apples and the remaining baskets altogether.
"A grandmother always knows, dearie!" Watching Mr. Lovegood and Mrs. Weasley dance across their tiny kitchen tent made Hermione's heart swell, and made the two of them look 10 years younger than she had ever seen them. She smiled and murmured her congratulations and ducked out of the tent, picking up 5 baskets on each arm for her first drop off. It felt vaguely pleasant and almost bubbly to know there would be a baby along soon, and surely Mrs. Weasley and Mr. Lovegood would stop their celebrating soon enough.
A baby. Hermione wondered silently to herself, as she dropped baskets next to the nearest tents with adults, smiling slightly. Things certainly would be different with a baby in the Weasley family. She found herself daydreaming about what a child of Bill and Fleur's would look like as she dropped off the rest of her baskets, and doubled back to pick up more. She waved to Mrs. Weasley, who was back to work, but bubbling over with excitement about grandchild names, and picked up more as she headed for the Weasley section of the tents. After dropping one off in front of Bill and Fleur's tent, one to Charlie, Harry and Ginny's, and pausing for a brief moment in front of George's to listen to his steady breathing, she let her giddy feet drag her over to what had become the most dreaded tent in the camp.
Usually, this tent was always the very last one on the list, because it was the one she wanted to stay the farthest from, and if she saved it for last, she could head off at a jog towards the kitchen tent and not feel badly about literally running away from it. She laid the basket down gently at his door and let herself muse for a moment, silently wondering what a Weasley baby's red hair would look like, before she heard it.
Percy was pacing inside his tent, muttering to himself. Hermione's ears pricked to hear her name mentioned, and instantly pressed herself up against the wall of the tent so that she could listen in.
"Speak. Talk? Converse. Chat. I like chat. Chat is good. Hermione, I was wondering if we could chat." He stopped for a moment as her heart caught at her throat. "No, that's not right at all. Hermione, I think we should talk." She cringed as she heard him thump his fist against something. "That's stupid. Hermione, I-"
"Hermione?" A loud, clear voice rang across the way, and she stopped breathing for a moment. She looked up from her feet to find Arthur Weasley staring at her, with a mix of apprehension and worry on his face. "Did you get lost?" Percy had gone silent inside, and her mind raced, trying desperately to cling to a lie somewhere.
"No- I…" She glanced around at the ring of tents nervously- no one else seemed to have woken up, but Mr. Weasley was waiting for her answer. "I forgot which one was yours."
"You were looking for me?" He studied her warily as she cringed and searched for an answer.
"Yes." The words tumbled out of her in a heap, suddenly, her brain catching up to her mouth. "." She stopped again, and took a breath. "Molly wanted to see you. Something's… happened." His face fell and he looked like he was about to start off at a run, and Hermione almost shouted. "No! No. It's good news. Don't worry. But she wants to see you."
"Well, thanks Hermione. I'll see to that." He looked puzzled, but it was enough to get him to walk towards the direction of the kitchen tent. Hermione almost collapsed in relief, shaking her head at herself.
"What's the news?" She almost shrieked out of panic, realizing that Percy had come out of his tent. In the dim morning light, she could barely see his outline, but she was certain it was him. This waking up thing was really not worth it at all.
"Nothing, it's just… it's really not my place…" She trailed off, trying to find words. He nodded swiftly.
"I see. Well, I'll have to ask one of them later." Hermione inclined her head slightly, shot him a hasty smile, and headed towards the kitchen without so much as a goodbye.
No. Waking up in the morning really is just the worst.