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Chapter Nine:
Everyone was clustered into the cramped kitchen, Mrs. Weasley was sobbing quietly in the corner where piles of old cookbooks were stacked on the mantelpiece. Ginny, Ron, Fred and George, Harry and Bonnie were seated at the table, expressions as thick as stone to prevent tears from falling. Hermione couldn't do it – she hadn't been toughened like the others had with all the other deaths and pain. She joined Mrs. Weasley, tears leaking down her face, she didn't bother wiping them. She didn't bother hiding her sadness.
She didn't bother hiding her pain.
Why? Her thoughts had concluded. Why him? Why now?
Mrs. Weasley embraced her, both women weeping on each others' shoulders.
Why?
--
In the garden three graves laid with polished stone marking their name, Ginny explained how no proper funeral could be held anymore, so families had to bury the dead in their own backyard and perform certain spells or risk letting them fall under the control of Voldemort as Inferi. The first stone appeared to have been there the longest – it had the name of Charlie Weasley engraved on it and the earth beneath it was smooth with age, grass sprouting all over. The second read Arthur Weasley, not as aged as the grave before it but with less grass.
The third stone said Percy Weasley; it was by far the newest grave in the yard – aside from the freshly hollowed space beside it where Bill's lifeless body laid, covered in a thin layer of silk. The finest the Weasley's could afford. Hermione and Ginny stood beside each other as Bill's grave was refilled with soil and his name carved into stone like that of his father and brothers before him.
"I've been to too many funerals," Ginny whispered to her. "Too many. It makes me wonder when it will be mine."
"It won't be," Hermione said to her, thickness in her voice. "Not if I have something to say about it."
"There are only five of us now," Ginny stated, her voice shaking. "Just five."
"I've had enough." Hermione stuttered, turning away from the yard, trudging back towards the house.
"Where are you going?" Ginny called after her, concern in her voice.
"I'm going back to the Manor," Hermione said simply. "For the last time."
--
Apparating to the Manor had become a chore for too long. It ends today.
The pathway leading towards it seemed to last forever – her head clogged with Bill's face. Her mind racing with memories that didn't consist of her past, but of the few moments they had spent together, every time he showed he trusted her. A true person she could call friend, family.
--
"What the Order does know," Bill was saying at breakfast, "is that Voldemort has no more need for Legilimency, he considers it beneath him now. He can know when someone's lying to him, but as long as you avoid the subjects of Ginny getting past you or that of the Order, keep a clear head and don't bunch your thoughts, you'll be fine." he added a sly smile. "He won't suspect you."
--
Hermione was almost there now – the Malfoy Manor was closely approaching…
She had a strong urge to kick the albino peacock she met along the path.
--
She was feeling horribly shaken. What if they knew she had become a spy? What if she gave something away? The terror gripped her that she may somehow reveal her new loyalty to the Order, her worst fear to betray them. her stomach formed a deep pit that was slowly sucking the warmth of her breath, leaving her tongue dry.
"Hermione!" Bill called, grinning at her. "Good luck!"
He gave her a thumbs-up as she Apparated.
--
She reached the door, but it opened before she touched it, Millie standing at its frame, a large, discoloured bruise swelling on her head. She had a rag wrapped around one arm; she looked like she'd been brutally beaten. "Millie!" Hermione cried out breathlessly. "What happened? Who did this to you?" she demanded, closing the door behind herself.
"Mistress," Millie squeaked. "Millie can't say. Millie won't! Won't! Won't!"
The House Elf looked distressed and utterly terrified, this made her worry more. "Millie," Hermione stated firmly. "I order you to tell me what happened!" The Elf gave her a pleading stare, then began to speak mutely, her mouth moving but no sound emerged. "Millie!" she snapped again. "I order you!"
Another squeak, Millie shook and let out a shaking sigh.
"Why would it tell you anything?" a cold tone said. "It's not like you care."
"Draco," Hermione said in surprise, swallowing suddenly. "You're home early."
The man stood at the back of the entrance hall near the staircase, he had an odd sort of air around him as he walked slowly towards her, his expression plain and his eyes pinned her on the spot. He stood in front of her. "Yes," he stated shortly. "I had a rather interesting visit today."
"Really?" she inquired, shifting her feet. "From whom? Zabini?"
He looked at her in a way she did not recognize, then leaned closer to her. "A Weasley." Draco muttered, his face twisted into a scowl. He slapped her. Hard. "A William Weasley." She staggered and hit a nearby table, tasting blood – her eyes widened as she quivered. He hit her again. "Do you have any idea of what that blood-traitor scum was talking about?"
Hermione yelped as he struck her again. "Stop!" she exclaimed, she fumbled feebly for her wand, but it landed with a clatter on the floor. "Stop!"
Draco paused. "Hermione," he whispered, her name rolling off his tongue like a possession. "Questions. You know I don't like them. Why was that Weasley asking questions?" She was crying – she didn't mean to, she didn't want to show weakness. Her wand was out of reach, she felt vulnerable. Defenceless. Helpless. Weak. Draco lifted her roughly onto her feet, her wobbling knees shook and he held her in place. "WHAT DID YOU TELL HIM?" he roared.
--
A limp and hobble, blood trickling down her chin, a bruise forming on her arm from where he grabbed her and her stomach in painful knots of where she'd been kicked repeatedly. Her eyes swelled and her lip slit, she could feel her head throbbing in three different places and her fingers were numb. She wondered vaguely if one was broken. Hermione staggered into the doorways of the Burrow and collapsed at someone's feet as soon as the door opened. Harry.
"Hermione?" it was the first time in a long while she had heard alarm in his tone. "What happened?"
She stifled a laugh as she dabbed her cut lip gently. "My idiocy." she stated quietly.
--
"I'm leaving!" Hermione screamed, blood splattering on his robes as she spoke.
"Oh no you don't!" Draco growled, grasping her shoulders and shaking her violently. "You think you can just leave? By now I thought you'd know the consequences, especially since but hours ago I killed another one of your little Weasley friends! When will you learn Hermione? When will you learn there are consequences for your actions?"
"You killed Bill." Hermione whispered, her eyes lined with tears. "You killed him?"
"Yes," Malfoy spat smugly. "Shouldn't be nosing about, now should he? Useless wretch."
It took all her strength to leap at him with a snarl, knocking him to the ground - she pinned him there and slapped his cheek with one quick swipe, she scratched him in the process, his blood sticking to her nails. "Bill Weasley was twice the man you could ever be!" Hermione stated darkly. "MURDERER!" Draco scowled and shoved her off him; she staggered and hit the wall, still screaming. "MURDERER!"
He stood and pushed her to the ground, kicking her in the ribs again… and again…
--
"… and again," Hermione said with a shaking and sobbing voice, she was sitting across from Harry who was listening. "I was so scared… I didn't know what to do…" She was surprised when he leaned over and hugged her, held her as she wept, she felt safe.
"Its okay Hermione," he said soothingly, stroking her hair. "You're home now, with your family."
She tried to blink the tears away and swallowed hard. "Thank you Harry. Malfoy didn't know I was a spy, he never said anything about that. He was just livid about Bill."
Harry was quiet for a moment. "Well," he began; he seemed lost for words, overwhelmed with an emotion she had trouble determining. "Let's go get you cleaned up, everyone's really worried."
"Really?" Hermione asked in a dull tone as Harry helped her off her feet. "I would have thought they were hoping I was finally dead, celebrating probably. I'll hate to disappoint them."
Harry laughed, the sound felt unusual against her ears. Laughter that wasn't cruel or an indecent cackle, that wasn't resulted into someone's torture or pain. "You'll see," Harry stated with a smile. "Come on." He led her into the kitchen; everyone was clustered around the table, talking in hushed voices. Harry stopped her by the door and signalled her to listen, she was obviously confused at his action but caught words every now and then, 'Hermione' they said, 'rescue' they whispered.
It hurt to smile – but she did anyway. They care…
Harry carried her into the kitchen; everyone stopped immediately and stared at them, mostly eyeing Hermione's injuries.
"Hermione!" Mrs. Weasley cried in relief, Harry leaned close to her ear. Hermione yelped, clenching her stomach.
"Hermione!" Ginny exclaimed with concern. "Are you okay? Who did this? What happened?"
Hermione gave a lopsided smile. "Its okay, it doesn't matter. Let's just say, I won't be welcome at Voldemort's table anymore."
"We would rather have you at ours." Everyone swapped glances. If she hadn't seen Fred's mouth move she would never have believed it. When Mrs. Weasley backed away to fetch her wand, Harry returned to his position in helping Hermione steady herself. Ron caught her eye; he stood up from beside Bonnie and helped Harry support her. "He's right," he agreed with a blushing shrug. "We all missed you; it's only horrible it took Bill's…" he swallowed. "Bill's death to see it."
Tears welled in Hermione's eyes. "You have no idea…"
"'Ermione?" Bonnie said gently, brows relaxed. "Why are yeh crying?"
"You just have no idea…" Hermione sobbed. "How much this means to me…" she looked about all the faces in the room. "I'm so happy; this means so much to me. I'm so happy…"
So happy… "Come here Hermione," Mrs. Weasley said. "I'll heal those for you."
Harry and Ron tugged her along and balanced her while Mrs. Weasley cast many different spells and opened foul smelling jars of things Hermione didn't really want smeared all over her. "Ahem," Harry said, all fell silent at the sound. "Hate to pick up an Umbridge trait, but don't we have a war to plan?"
"And a wedding!" Bonnie piped in cheerfully. Hermione managed a small scowl. What am I to do about that?
--
They all sat at the table, no one had spoken much, the air itself seemed too deep. Hermione took in a breath and stood. "If I may," Hermione said thickly, picking up a full goblet with her newly-healed arm and raising it above her head. "To Bill Weasley," she stated proudly. "May his joys be as bright as the morning, and may our sorrows be but shadows that fade in his light. May he rest in eternal peace."
"To Bill," the room chorused. "May he rest in peace."
NOTE TO ALL DRACO LOVERS: Please don't kill me! I really don't enjoy writing him this way and I certainly don't think thats what he's like or what he'll become. Don't hunt me down, I really am a Ferret Fan myself. Just trust me for now - all will work out in time, you'll see! Promise. Seriously.
Also, sorry I haven't posted in a while, I kind of rushed this... sorry! But I have a good reason - exams! We all hate 'em!
Please read and review!
Hazel-Buttafly