A Christmas Wish- Chapter 11
The death eaters were a cold and calloused breed. They viewed life as a cold wisp of winter air – fleeting, short, meaningless. After years and years of training in how to exterminate life most efficiently, they had become desensitized to the true beauty and value in everyday life. Their lives were based on a simple system of punishments and rewards- no gray areas, no exceptions.
And the punishments were severe enough to terrify them into never considering disobeying again.
Death eaters were terrifying, heartless, cruel, dangerous.
That is what Charlie, Harry, Percy, Bill, and Ron had been taught from their earliest years, it was one of their most solid beliefs.
However, when they tore off the death eater mask of their unidentified sixth member and saw the frail, shaking form of a teenage girl and green eyes filled with terror, all of those morals and beliefs were suddenly thrown into a whirlwind of doubt.
"Pansy?" Ron exclaimed.
Pansy frantically glanced around the room. They were all staring at her like she was some kind of freak show, something they had never seen before up close. It was unnerving, quite frankly. One of the few nice things about being a death eater was the anonymity. Nobody looked too closely, because truly, nobody wanted to know who you were. You could be their friend from years past, the one they thought would do more with their lives than simply destroy others. It was a universal understanding- anonymity made it easier to be cruel and ruthless. Being stared directly in the face for the first time in years was enough to make even her cringe.
Pansy quickly swallowed her fear. She had to appear in control, and as intimidating as she possibly could. She didn't get this far by withering every time somebody got too close.
"Great. It's you people." She observed. "I don't suppose you'd just let me go?"
Just then Mrs. Weasley scurried into the living room, breathless from tending to Hermione for the past several minutes. Immediately her eyes latched on to Pansy's. She saw the sunken cheeks, the dark eye sockets, and her maternal instincts overrode the instincts that told her there was clearly a predator in the house.
"Well, dear, you look famished!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed.
There were few moments that had ever truly surprised Pansy Parkinson. She could count them with the fingers on her left hand, actually. However, if she had to guess, she'd say this one topped them all.
"Quickly, come into the kitchen, I'll make you something!" Mrs. Weasley bustled over and yanked Pansy up by her hands, dragging her to the kitchen nearby. Harry and the rest of the Weasleys simply stood in the living room, dumbfounded at Mrs. Weasley's seemingly endless hospitality.
"Now you just sit there on that stool, sweetie, and take off that wretched cloak. You look like you've been through the wringer, just sit back and relax." Mrs. Weasley instructed as she hummed around the kitchen, searching for edibles. Pansy sat, but she didn't take off her cloak. It was a comfort thing, ironically.
"Now, honey, when was the last time you ate?" Mrs. Weasley asked conversationally.
Pansy was silent for a minute. It had been a while, that was true. Eating wasn't exactly a favorable death eater pastime. She had gotten used to it over the years. It was just another part of life.
"Um, it's been a few days…"
"A FEW DAYS?" Mrs. Weasley shrieked. "Child, you must be starving! It's a miracle you haven't collapsed! Good thing there are plenty of servings!" Her blue eyes widened in astonishment and her head shook with worry.
Huh. Not many people had ever bothered worrying about her, and yet this woman, who was technically her enemy-
"Oh, it's no big deal. It happens." Pansy shrugged it off.
"Well, it will NOT happen as long as you're here, young lady! We need to get some meat on your bones." Mrs. Weasley declared as she set a plate of warm, steaming roast with carrots and potatoes in front of Pansy. Pansy had to admit, it smelled delicious. She had never had a meal cooked for her by someone who wasn't feeding her simply because they wanted to earn their paycheck.
"Wait, wait, wait a minute… I'm staying here?" Pansy asked incredulously.
Mrs. Weasley smiled. "Well, of course, dear! We can't have you strolling on back to your death eater friends and gossiping all about our home. We're taking you prisoner. Enjoy your roast!" Mrs. Weasley scurried away to attend to Hermione, leaving Pansy frozen in surprise.
Pansy shook her head, trying to dislodge the surprise factor. The mother was crazy, whatever.
But, lord, could the crazy mother cook a mean roast! Pansy had never tasted anything like it. Before she knew it she had devoured the entire plate. Perhaps she was hungrier than she initially thought. Her stomach growled loudly, demanding more of the fabulous food.
She figured she was more than welcome to have seconds, and, even if she wasn't, she was going to eat them anyways. She had trained herself to eat as much as possible at once, because there was no telling when her next meal would be. She located the rest of the roast in the fridge and her eyes immediately widened at the size of the enormous pot. It was nearly as large as the potions cauldrons in Hogwarts, back when she went there. It was a miracle that it could all fit in the fridge. She scooped out a couple of hearty servings and whispered a warming spell, taking her serving back to the table.
She began to delve into her second serving with vigor when one of the Weasley clones strolled down the stairs. Lord, they were all the same. Obnoxious red hair, judgmental blue eyes, endless devotion to wizardry and opposition to Voldemort. Disgustingly loyal to their friends and fight to the death and blah blah blah. If you knew one, you knew them all.
This particular Weasley clone looked in the fridge, most likely hungry as well. He grabbed a cup of pudding and shut the door behind him, turning to face her. He pulled out the chair across from her and sat down, delving into his pudding.
"Funny, you don't look like a seven foot tall, terrifying and powerful death eater. I heard there was one in this kitchen eating mum's roast, have you seen her?" Charlie teased.
Pansy couldn't help but crack a small smile, which she immediately regretted. She wasn't supposed to be having fun! She had to put on her tough girl exterior. "So they're already talking about me, huh?"
"Well, yeah. I mean, we can't just send you back." Charlie chomped down upon a glob of pudding as he tried to gather his thoughts. "But we don't know what to do with you if you'd stayed. They were talking about tactics and strategy and advantages and… well… it made me hungry. Talking like that is exhausting, you know."
"I guess," Pansy nodded as she chewed a carrot. "You know, I could really get used to this prisoner thing. Especially if I get fed like this."
Charlie smiled. "Trust me, even if an entire legion of soldiers were living in this house, not one of them would ever go hungry. Mum's like that. You know how some people were just born to be mothers? I think my mum's one of them."
Pansy avoided his eyes. Honestly, she didn't know that some people were born to be mothers, like Charlie said. She didn't know that parents were loving and caring. She had never experienced that. She had always thought that people who had mushy gushy lovey dovey families were just kidding themselves, and felt sorry for them because they lived their entire lives believing in something that didn't exist. No parent she had ever met acted with love or adoration toward their child.
Well… not until now, anyways.
"You know, quite frankly, I really don't get this." Pansy suddenly said. Charlie paused his pudding party to look at her. "I mean… I'm a prisoner. Aren't you supposed to be torturing me to death? Cutting off my fingers for information? Locking me up and never feeding me? This isn't how it's done!"
"Not all prisons are steel and concrete." Charlie stated simply.
"Wait… what? What is that supposed to mean?" Pansy demanded.
"Can't stick around, out of pudding!" Charlie showed her his empty plastic cup, remnants of the chocolate pudding still clinging to the edges. He threw the cup in the trashcan from his seat, making it through the plastic rim in the first throw. Moments later he had thundered back up the stairs, taking them two at a time.
As much as Pansy wanted to go after him and force him to explain himself, her survival mechanism forced her to devour as much roast as she possibly could. So, for now, the cryptic words of Weasley Clone #2 would have to wait.
XXXXXXXXX
George guarded Hermione's door like a goalkeeper. "I told you, Fred, she doesn't need to see you right now! She's hurt, she's barely conscious, she's delusional, she's-"
"She's also calling out my name in her sleep! I can hear it from my own room! She's terrified, I should be in there-" Fred tried to duck under George's left arm, but George was too fast for him.
"You also should have been with her when we went to save her! How infuriated do you think she's going to be when she realizes that you ran away when she needed you the most? She cannot handle those intense emotions right now. She needs her rest, and seeing you will only agitate her!"
Fred tried vainly to shove George aside, but his twin was too determined to move. "I just have to see her! I just need to see with my own eyes that she's here and she's okay. I won't even say anything!"
"Fred, you will get your chance! Just give her time and space. She's had a long day, and just needs to sleep it off." George argued.
"Fine, fine. You're right. I'll talk to her when she's feeling better." Fred finally relented, and started walking away.
"Good. I knew you'd understand eventually, Fred." George walked with him to the end of the stairs, deciding to keep his twin company and hopefully keep his mind off of Hermione.
"PSYCH!" Fred yelled as he took off in the opposite direction, towards Hermione's room.
"Fred, get back here! FRED!" George tried to turn as quickly as Fred, but he wasn't quick enough to catch him before he reached the doorway.
Fred frantically glanced around the room. Pansy stood in a corner with a damp bloodstained washcloth in her hand, looking more than slightly out of place. Mrs. Weasley sat on Hermione's bed, casting healing spells on her injured arm. Hermione herself lay on the bed, hair a mass of untamed curls, face pale and weary.
But her eyes were just as fiery as they had always been.
"Fred! What happened to George? He was supposed to keep you out!" Hermione exclaimed as angrily as her hoarse voice would allow her.
"I just wanted to see you, I had to see for myself that you were okay!" Fred stepped cautiously into the room.
"I am obviously NOT okay, thanks to you! Why was it that everyone came, Fred, everyone except you? Why?" She accused, her eyes full of anger and just a touch of pain.
"Hermione, we were facing death eaters! I couldn't just… I've never… Ron and Harry do this sort of thing all the time, and-"
"But you PROMISED me, Fred! All those words, all those times you said you'd do anything, anything for me, but what did it all mean? I should have known you were a liar! I should have seen that you were just making up crap to try and win me over! I should have- ohhh, oh, ow, ow, ow!" Hermione's rant ended in mid-sentence as her head concussion suddenly decided that she was getting more angry than it wanted her to.
"Hermione, are you-" Fred instinctively reached for her.
"Fred, I think you should go." Hermione barely whispered. She closed her eyes in exhaustion. "I just… I can't handle you right now. Just go."
Mrs. Weasley echoed Hermione's words. "Fred, dear, just give her time. She can't handle this stress right now." Mrs. Weasley stroked Hermione's mass of hair in a maternal gesture.
Despite their warnings that he should leave, Fred remained rooted to the spot by Hermione's angry words. He knew she'd be disappointed, but actually seeing her so hurt and so angry all at once… and knowing that it was all his fault, and that anything he did now could only make it worse… it was almost too much for him to take.
"Come on, mate. It's time to go." George tugged at his brother's arm.
The spell on Fred finally broke, and he whirled out of the room. Everything he did just wasn't enough for her. What did she expect, anyways? Yeah, he screwed up. Yeah, he didn't go through with his promises, but he came to apologize and she just threw everything in his face. Merlin, that hurt…
Fred viciously shook his head. He didn't even care anymore. All she did was hurt him. She dumped her burden of Jack on him, telling him that he was abusive before telling anyone else and expecting him to do something about it. Who did she think he was? He wasn't bulletproof, he wasn't a hero. But he wanted to be, and he listened to her problems just for her sake. And then when he asked if she would date him, not exactly a big favor after all the strings he'd pulled for them to go horseback riding together, she turned him down and wouldn't even tell him why! All he did was apologize and apologize and try to make up for things that were part of his nature. He couldn't do this anymore. Fine, whatever Hermione wanted, Hermione would get.
She wanted her space? She would get space. Oh, she would get plenty of space.
He didn't care. He couldn't. Caring hurt too much.
He wouldn't care anymore, not for her. Never again.
XXXXXX
"I can't believe he honestly had the nerve…" Hermione quietly fumed. "After all the things he said to me, all the lies, all the promises…"
Pansy rolled her eyes. Listening to Hermione's ranting and raving about her love life for the past hour and a half had left her a little short on patience. Granted, Hermione had every right to be angry, Pansy just didn't think it was quite as big of a deal as Hermione was making it.
"I mean, yeah he apologized, but why did he have to go and do that in the first place? Why? Why did he lie to me? Why can't he just leave me alone?" Hermione continued.
"Oh, dear, you don't really want that, do you?" Mrs. Weasley asked gently as she administered more healing spells to Hermione's arm.
"Yes, yes I do. I don't think I ever want to see him again." Hermione declared assuredly.
"I understand, I suppose." Mrs. Weasley sighed.
"Well, I sure don't understand." Pansy piped up.
Mrs. Weasley and Hermione turned and stared at her with shocked and indignant expressions on their faces.
Pansy set down the washcloth she had been holding, meeting them in the eye and gaining courage as she continued to speak. "I mean, Hermione, he obviously cares about you a lot! Did you not see him when he left? He looked like he was going to jump off of a cliff, all because you were upset at him. Doesn't that mean anything to you? Doesn't that show you how much he cares?"
Hermione asked suspiciously, "Why are you sticking up for him all of a sudden? You don't even like us!"
Pansy sighed. "Because it pisses me off to see you surrounded by people who obviously adore you, and all you do is lay in bed and moan about how mad you are at them. I mean, the kind of devotion Fred has for you doesn't come along every day."
"But he still broke his promise! He lied!" Hermione continued ranting.
"And you are willing to throw away what could possibly be an amazing relationship all because he's made one mistake? Life's too short to waste time resenting people. It really is."
"You don't know anything about it, Pansy! You don't know anything! You don't understand how I feel!"
"You are right about one thing, Hermione. I don't understand how you feel, because I don't know how it feels to be loved like you are. So quit whining already!"
A rather tense and awkward silence followed. Mrs. Weasley glanced around in confusion, not knowing if she should reprimand Pansy or encourage her bold and, surprisingly mature, statements. The girl was lacking in tact, but really, Mrs. Weasley couldn't deny that she had made a great point. She could tell that Hermione was silently contemplating this as well, realizing that maybe there was some wisdom to her words.
Pansy sighed. "Just… just think about what I said, okay? I didn't mean to yell and make you all angry again and whatever, but… people would kill to have what you have. Literally. Don't throw it away over something stupid." With that, Pansy strolled out of the room, needing a little bit of space.
"You know… she may have been a little forceful, but I think she may be on to something. Wonder what sorts of terrible things that girl has seen, to have such an outlook already." Mrs. Weasley observed nonchalantly.
"She may be. I just… I just want to be mad for a while, you know? I just want to be angry and have other people be angry at him with me, and resent him for hurting me. As awful as it is, it'd be so much easier than just… letting go." Hermione observed.
"I know, sweetie, I know. With Ginny being gone, I… it's hard, to keep up appearances. I'm so scared for her, and truly all I want to do is scream and wail in terror and command everyone to go look until they find her. I want to panic. It's so tempting to just… let it all out. But I know… I know that I have to be strong for her, even while I'm terrified. I have other children, and other people are counting on me. Sometimes, we aren't allowed to do the easy thing. Sometimes you have to swallow your fear and your pride and do what you know is right."
Hermione silently took her words in. Was she really being so selfish in wanting to be angry? She had confided in Fred, she'd told him her most terrible secret and he had left her when she needed him the most. But really, was that any worse than what Mrs. Weasley was going through? Was her situation truly so bad that she couldn't swallow her pride and try to fix things, before they were damaged for good?
"Mrs. Weasley, I… I think I'm feeling better." Hermione said, needing the alone time and knowing that Mrs. Weasley needed some too. "You look exhausted, truly. Go get some rest, I'll be fine for a while."
Mrs. Weasley smiled gratefully. "Well, sweetie, you know where to find me if you need anything at all." She bustled out of the room, the same bundle of energy that she had always been.
What a remarkable woman, Hermione thought. She is on the brink of losing her daughter and still she faces the world with bravery and strength. Maybe… maybe it was time she faced her own problems, and did her best to save her own world.
XXXXXXX
Knock knock knock!
Hermione rolled over and drowsily looked at the clock. It was 7:30, she had managed to get four hours of sleep. The summer sun was setting in the distance, its brilliant fiery colors filling the room. Her head felt considerably clearer after resting, although she still felt slightly woozy. She knew she wouldn't be doing any strenuous activity anytime soon.
"Come in." She said as clearly as her groggy sleepyhead voice would allow her.
A few moments later Harry entered with a plate of roast and a glass of water. "Room service!" He called jokingly.
"Oh, Harry, I'm not sure if I'm up for eating anything…" Hermione said uncertainly.
"Well, since Mrs. Weasley is taking a nap and I have been sent to feed you in her place, I will pitch a fit and complain about how skinny you are until you agree to eat, just like she would." Harry grinned.
"Alright, alright. I'll give it a try." Hermione cautiously sat up and took the plate from Harry, slowly taking tiny bites. Harry glanced around the room, and dragged a vacant armchair to her bedside. He wrung his hands and clenched the cushioned arms, clearly appearing nervous. He glanced around the room, his eyes never quite being able to settle on one object for long.
"Harry, what's wrong?" Hermione asked.
"Well, um… I know it's silly, and Ginny's perfectly capable of taking care of herself and everything, but… she's with Jack, and I've seen what he's done to you, and I just… not that you're any worse off for it, you're a fighter and you'll make it through this, I just-"
"You're worried, aren't you?" Hermione stated simply.
"Well, yeah, I mean she's my best friend's little sister, I've known her for years, I can't just not think about her-"
"Harry, I think we both know that she's more than your best friend's ditsy, silly little sister. She's a grown woman now. Did you see the way she handled that raid? Harry, she sacrificed herself to get us out of there. She created a mass target apparition spell, something neither you nor I ever thought of. She is so much more than simply an
acquaintance, Harry, and I think she always has been."
"I know, I know… I got so angry when Jack touched her. I've never been that angry before. It was almost as if…" Harry broke off in mid-sentence, shaking his head, almost as if he was waking up from a dream. "No, no. I don't even know what I'm talking about. I couldn't, she couldn't be-"
"Harry, do you like her?" Hermione asked with obvious glee, like she had just found the correct answer to a particularly hard question.
"I can't like her, she's Ron's sister." Harry automatically responded.
"That doesn't answer my question. Try again." Hermione commanded.
"I… I…" Harry stuttered.
Suddenly a loud voice called from the hallway. "Harry, you know Hermione likes salt with her roast! You forgot to bring it up to her!"
Hermione and Harry exchanged a glance, and as their conversation came to a screeching halt at Ron's appearance, Hermione had all the answers from Harry she needed.
Moments later, Ron appeared in the doorway with a container of salt. "Hey, Hermione! I told Harry to bring this, but you know how he can be sometimes. I guess his head was just in the clouds again."
Hermione offered a weak smile. "Yeah, he's done that more and more since Ginny's been gone."
Ron's gaze softened. "Don't worry, mate. We're family, we'll get her back. We just need a lead and some plans. We're family."
Harry's shoulders sank just a little bit. He was right, they would get her out. They had to. They absolutely had to…
A/N: A lot has happened in this chapter... introduction to some new characters, new conflict… I'd love to hear your thoughts on this chapter and what you think is going to happen. Thanks for reading!
