Hello everyone :D
Wow, so many reviews for the last chapter! DauntlessTribute, dracomalfoyswifey, DracoSly, Fluticorns, LunarPotion (double thanks for the double review!), Jeckyla, MuppetKatie, reecse42 and Zukuto... Thank you guys so, so much! *_*
Here you go, Zukuto - something to read before you travel :) A little shorter than normal but lots of drama!
Enjoy!
The next morning, Hermione made a decision. To take her mind off the fact that Harry would soon be out there risking his life, she asked Draco to come downstairs to the kitchen with her.
"Are you sure?" he asked, looking worried. "Won't the others be upset that I'm not locked in my room?"
She shrugged. "I don't care. They're not going to do anything that will upset me, so they'll just have to accept it."
"I don't know..." Draco still sounded uncertain.
Hermione wondered if he was worried about the others being upset, or scared that they might try to hurt him. In the case of Ron, Draco might have some reason to be scared but Hermione wasn't about to let anything happen to him. She could deal with Ron. "It'll be okay, I promise. I'm just so sick of this corridor. I want to go downstairs for a while, and I'd really like you to come with me."
She expected that it would be hard to face the rest of the house, its connections to Dark magic a sharp reminder of her time at the Manor, but she couldn't remain a prisoner in her own mind forever. There had been enough of that. "If you really don't want to come, then I'll ask Ginny to go with me instead. It's alright if you're scared."
"I'm not scared," Draco said defensively, then bit his lip. "Alright, I'll come down. Only for a while, though."
She grinned and went to the door. "Ginny?" she said as she pulled it open. "I think I'd like to go downstairs."
To her credit, Ginny didn't question her. "Alright. When?"
Hermione glanced at Draco, who shrugged. "Now?"
Ginny bit her lip. "Ron's down there at the moment. Do you want to wait until he's gone?"
It would make this easier if Ron wasn't there, she thought, but dismissed it almost immediately. "No, I'll have to deal with him at some point."
"Really?" Ginny raised her eyebrows. "Well, aren't we feeling brave today?" she said with a grin. "Come on, then. We can have lunch, if you like? I was going to bring up some sandwiches but you can make your own if you're coming down."
Ron was still in the kitchen when they came down but, after one disgusted glance at Draco, he stood up and left via the back door into the garden. Hermione internally winced, knowing that Draco still had no idea why Ron hated him so much. Well, she amended, after our conversation he has some idea of what he did to deserve the animosity, but he doesn't need to know everything. At least, not yet.
"You know where everything is. I have to send a Patronus to mum; she made me promise to keep her updated on how you were doing." Ginny grimaced apologetically at that. "You know how she fusses."
"It's alright. Give her my love." Hermione smiled and opened the refrigerator. She was particularly proud of the refrigerator, understandably since it was her idea in the first place. Several complex cooling spells had been placed on the sides, back and door of a large cupboard with several deep shelves, creating a passable replica of a muggle refrigerator which was large enough to store both food and any potions or ingredients that had to be kept cold. From one of the shelves she grabbed a greaseproof-paper packet of sliced ham, a chunk of cheese and a tub of spreadable butter. The last was a new discovery made during a recent shopping expedition to the nearest muggle supermarket that was still open. They were few and far between these days, so delicacies like spreadable butter and fresh meats were to be savoured at any opportunity.
"Would you like a sandwich?" she asked Draco, who had sat down at the table with his elbows on the scarred wooden surface.
He nodded. "Yes, please. Would you like me to help?"
The offer was kind but Hermione shook her head. She needed to do something normal for a change, something everyday that she hadn't done for a while. As she cut the cheese into slices with a sharp knife, she glanced to the side and said, "Would you mind turning the radio on? I want to see if there's any news."
"Radio?" Draco frowned. "What's that?"
Hermione blinked, then realised her mistake. "Oh, I'm sorry. It's the box on the shelf over there. Just press the big button on the top."
He crossed the room and looked at the device as if it was an alien life-form. "The big button?" he clarified, reaching up.
"That's the one." Hermione set the knife aside and buttered the bread. A clicking sound, followed by a crackling voice, told her he had managed to work the machine. "Well done," she said with a sincere smile as she placed cheese on top of ham and cut each sandwich into triangles. "What do you think?" she asked, pouring herself a glass of milk.
There was no reply. She turned around and laughed softly at the sight of him staring, transfixed, at the black box on the shelf, his head cocked slightly to better hear the voice issuing from the device. As she walked closer she heard him whisper, "Are there...people in there?"
"Not inside the box, no," she replied, still laughing, "but those are real people. They record the voices on a device called a 'microphone', which sends a signal through the air that arrives in this box." She pointed to the grille on the front of the box. "That's called a 'speaker'. It's where the sound comes out."
"That's...amazing!" Draco grinned and picked up a triangle of sandwich from the plate in her hands, sitting down at the table.
Still chuckling, Hermione set the sandwiches on the table and walked across to turn the volume up on the dial. It was a bizarre experience, using something as inherently muggle as a radio in the magic-infused atmosphere of Grimmauld Place; at the same time, it was wonderful to be able to hear what was happening in the world outside the house. There were no magical radio stations running anymore, but a few of the major muggle news stations across the world were still going. From the accent, she surmised that they were hearing the news from Australia. I wonder if the war has reached that far, she thought, taking a gulp of her drink and turning the dial up a little to hear what the woman was saying.
"...still looking for anyone willing to come forward with information about a major traffic accident which took place yesterday morning, right here in downtown Adelaide. The crash resulted in the deaths of Wendell and Monica Wilkins, a married couple from England. Another person, as yet unnamed, is currently in the Intensive Care Unit of the Royal Adelaide hospital. Please, if anybody saw anything or has any information, please call..."
The first sign that anything was wrong was the sound of shattering glass. Milk splashed across the floor, pooling in cracks in the wooden planks. Draco's eyes widened and he jerked his head up to look at Hermione, who hadn't moved a muscle. Her hand was still holding the shape of the glass as if she hadn't yet realised she'd dropped it. Her face was the colour of chalk and her eyes were wide, staring at nothing.
"Hermione?" he said softly, standing up to walk towards her. She didn't respond to her name, not even when he said it again more forcefully. "Hermione!"
Still nothing.
"Talk to me, Hermione, please. You're frightening me." He reached out and took hold of her hand, still damp from holding the glass. Her fingers were freezing cold and she made no effort to move them as he rotated her hand to fit into his. "Please, Hermione. What's wrong? You can tell me." He stepped a little closer, now extremely worried by her lack of reaction. She usually shied away from overly close contact unless she initiated it.
From this distance he could now see that she was sweating slightly, an unhealthy sheen on her pallid skin. She was breathing faster than normal too, a ragged pant as if she had been running. Before he could make any other observations, she wobbled, then collapsed onto the floor, her eyes rolling back into her head. Draco lunged to catch her, but wasn't quite quick enough to prevent a few shards of glass cutting into her knees. Scooping her up into his arms (and, for a moment, marvelling at how light and small she was) he ran from the room and headed towards the stairs to the cellar.
"Help!" he yelled as he descended the stairs. "Is anyone there?"
The matronly lady who had taken care of him before - Poppy, his brain helpfully supplied - was already at the bottom of the stairs before he was. "Oh, what's happened?"
"She just collapsed," Draco tried to explain, but didn't have a lot of information to go on. "I don't know why. We were listening to the radio and I think something she heard must have upset her. I didn't do anything, I swear."
Apparently the woman could see that he was panicking, as she just nodded and indicated the nearest bed. "Put her there, dear, and we'll see what's what."
He laid her down on the bed as gently as he could and winced as he saw the blood running down her legs. You didn't catch her fast enough.
"How did these happen?" Poppy asked, as if reading his mind.
"Um, she dropped a glass before she, um, fell and..." he trailed off as she nodded understandingly.
"Oh, cuts and scrapes are easy, my dear. Don't you worry. Why don't you sit there and you can be here for her when she wakes up." She pointed at the chair beside the bed and Draco sat down, only then realising that he was still holding Hermione's hand. He let it go reluctantly and sat down. Poppy handed him a glass of water, which he sipped to stop her frowning at him.
"Will she be alright?" he couldn't help asking, as Poppy gently lifted Hermione's eyelids to look at her pupils, then checker her vitals and wrote some notes in her little book.
"I'm sure she'll be fine. She's just had a shock." Poppy rummaged in the bedside cabinet and pulled out a small pillow, which she enlarged with a wave of her wand. "Would you mind helping me lift her legs?"
"Um, alright." Between them, he and Poppy lifted Hermione's legs and slotted the pillow underneath to raise her knees.
"It'll get the blood flowing back to her brain," the matron explained, since Draco's confusion was clear on his face. "It'll help her to wake up sooner."
"Oh, good." Draco sat back down and folded his arms in his lap, his knees jiggling with impatience.
"Right, let's have a look at these." Poppy gently pulled back the hem of Hermione's skirt just far enough to show the cuts and scratches on her knees. Opening a small jar she'd got out of the bedside cabinet, she smeared some white cream over the cuts. To Draco's astonishment, he could actually see the cuts and scrapes closing before his eyes. The blood that had already leaked out was still there, but no more was flowing as the skin knitted back together.
"That's amazing," he said for the second time in ten minutes. "How long will it be until she wakes up?"
"Shouldn't be too long now- Oh, look." She smiled and Draco looked down to see Hermione's forehead creasing in a frown.
"Hermione?" he said softly. "Can you hear me?"
Hermione's eyelids fluttered, then her brow creased in a frown as she opened them to gaze up at the ceiling. Her face was still worryingly pale but not the sickly grey it had been. She opened her mouth and Draco leaned in to hear what she was saying.
"I...I'm going to be sick."
Just in time, Draco jerked out of the way as Poppy thrust a large bowl into the space he had occupied. Draco looked away as Hermione heaved into the bowl, grimacing in sympathy as she gasped for air. Finally, she seemed to be finished, though she still looked ill. Poppy took the pillow from under her knees and propped it behind her back instead, helping her to sit up. With a wave of her wand, she vanished the bowl and poured Hermione a glass of water.
"Sip it slowly," she advised, waving her wand to take the girl's vitals again. "Alright. Can you tell us what caused this, dear?"
Hermione blinked owlishly and took another sip of water, but didn't reply.
"Mr Malfoy said there was something on the radio that may have upset you?" Poppy prompted.
At this, Hermione's lip wobbled and her eyes filled with tears. As the first of many started to trickle down her cheeks, Draco wordlessly handed her some tissues from the box by the bed. She fruitlessly wiped her eyes, though the tears kept coming. Eventually she threw the sodden handful of tissue down and put her face in her hands.
After she hadn't moved for several long moments, Poppy put a hand on her shoulder. "You can tell us, dear."
Hermione lowered her hands and Draco was shocked by the emotions churning in her expression. She looked simultaneously horrified, enraged and incredibly sad. She blinked, then looked up at the two of them.
"My parents are dead."
Harry read the short note again, then handed it to Ginny. "What do you think?"
"Your terms are perfectly acceptable and I will meet you at the appointed time and place. Thank you again, N Malfoy," Ginny read aloud. "Uh... What am I supposed to think?"
"I don't know..." Harry ran a hand through his hair. "I know you don't support this, Gin-"
"I support you," she said firmly, grabbing his hand to pull him down onto the bed beside her. "If you truly believe this is the right thing to do, then I will support you. Just...don't get yourself hurt, alright?"
"I'll do my best," he said with a laugh. "I love you, you know."
"You too," she replied, kissing him softly. "So you're going tonight?"
He nodded. "The sooner the better, I thought. Plus it gives her less time to prepare anything if she is planning to betray us."
"That's true." Ginny nodded sagely. "Is everyone else ready to do it tonight?"
"Should be. I asked them to be ready at a moment's notice. Are you and Poppy going to be alright without Luna?"
"I think Poppy would be fine on her own, to be honest." Ginny grinned. "How long do we have until you leave?"
Harry glanced at the clock. "A couple of hours, I think. Why?"
"I was planning to get a shower. Want to join me?" She stood up and headed towards the bathroom, leaving Harry to trail in her wake.
The 'crack' of Apparition echoed for several seconds after Harry and the others arrived at Stonehenge. Wands raised defensively, they spread out in a circle, scanning the area for any approaching figures. The grass was damp beneath their feet and a fine mist hung in the cool air.
Harry walked forwards, calling out, "Hello? I'm here."
There was a long pause. They glanced at each other; did she change her mind? But then:
"I wasn't certain you would come."
Narcissa stepped from behind one of the huge standing stones, her hands held behind her back. "Thank you for trusting me."
"Why did you want to meet with me?" he demanded, sensing that his team had moved to back him up.
Beside him, Remus frowned and held up his wand. "Homenum revelio."
Harry felt him tense and raised his wand as Narcissa held up a hand quickly and opened her mouth to speak. Before she could utter a sound, however, another figure stepped out from behind the massive stone. Six wands were rapidly raised, casting white light over the pale face and long blonde hair of Lucius Malfoy.
Harry turned to stare at Narcissa, who lowered her hand and looked away, unable to hold his accusing gaze.
"I'm sorry," she murmured, as Lucius drew his wand.
Dun dun DUNNNN! (I'm so sorry)
By the way, I know that unless it's digital (which it's not) it's pretty unlikely that a radio in England could pick up signals from Australia but I'm going to go with the 'magic can do amazing things' excuse :) Sorry if it bugs anyone but I needed it for this chapter.
Thanks for reading and if you have a moment, please write me a review! :)