Chapter 25
Months have passed and it isn't until a few days ago that Kingsley had decided that our mission to the manor was worth the risk. Whatever they're doing to pull information from the detained Snatchers must be working. We are scheduled to leave the following day.
It's a clear morning but a thick layer of snow blankets the grounds. While Harry and Ron go for butterbeer in Hogsmeade, I've stayed behind, doing something I'm unsure if I ought to be. Since the day that Higgs admitted what she'd do, had she been a Death Eater, I couldn't help my curiosity. I began reading, searching relentlessly through the library, making sure I wouldn't be seen crossing the rope of the restricted section. I didn't need a note from a teacher but I didn't want anyone asking questions as to what it was that I was looking for.
While I search, I push the fact that you have yet to write me back out of my mind. The thought is distracting, but I continue to remind myself not to be needy. Scanning the spines, I come across a simple book titled, Guardians of Magic. I pull it from the shelf, wondering why something of this subject would be deemed restricted. Tucking it under my robes, I step back over the rope and casually walk from the library.
Mindlessly, I walk back to the common room, weaving between groups of first years with my nose in my new book. By the time I make it to the arm chair near the fire, I've already got a pretty good idea of the subject. It's simply about all those that have worked in protecting the wizarding world. It talks about Aurors, ministers and double agents, as well as dark wizards and witches that have, in their own way, fought to protect what they feel is true.
I flip another page, having almost successfully read through the first chapter about Aurors. I see a picture of a woman at the top of the page. She's very young, her hair lost of grey, nor is she wearing glasses...but, it confirms an inking I had had for months now. It is Higgs, but, her name is something else entirely. Amelia Folly. The page reads that years ago she had been dismissed of her duties, due to an unfortunate situation that occurred after the First Wizarding War, while questioning Death Eaters that had been caught. It doesn't go into great detail about what happened, but I find myself holding my breath as my eyes find your name. Yours and a man named Rodolphus. Carrying on, the chapter finishes with a familiar picture of the Order, after explaining what you had done to Neville's parents. I feel sick and set the book down.
I have a moment where I wonder what I am doing, if I'm in over my head; if it'd be best to break it off with you and just try to makes things work with Ron. It's as if a fog has cleared in my mind, allowing me to think clearly for the first time in a long time. Could it be that you were only doing what you did to save yourself? That with each murder and torture, you yourself felt like dying? Or, I am simply an idiot, gullible and easily swayed by a beautiful, busty lady?
I shake my head, jumping up from the chair, running shaking hands through my hair. I can't, I can't do this. It's too much, too much at risk, too much to know, too much to set aside. I can't ignore your mistakes and I can't justify them enough to make it alright, can I?
I pull out a piece of parchment and without allowing myself to change my mind, I scribble down a note. I don't even make the effort to proof read it before running up to the owlery and sending it off with the same owl as before. I wipe my eyes dry before making my way back down the the warmth of the common room. When I arrive, Harry and Ron have returned, talking happily and laughing
I remain silent about my findings on Professor Higgs. I want to see if there is anymore information on her before I make the accusation. I force myself to eat something, some toast, a bit of tea, during dinner. I do my best at participating with conversation, hoping it'll ease my nerves about the letter I had sent you and the events to take place the following day. Harry and Ron don't notice.
I wake on my own the next morning, aside from my feelings, I am well rested. I'm the first one to make it to the Great Hall and take this time to eat in quiet. By the time I am finished, both Ron and Harry arrive.
"Sorry," Harry says, taking a seat next to me, "Ran into McGonagall on the way here. We have to be quick. We're meeting with Kingsley on the outskirts of Hogsmeade in a few," he finishes, grabbing a small bite. I nod, finishing my tea.
"I still don't understand why we're the ones doing this," Ron chimes, "I mean, what with them being the ministry and all. You'd think they'd just do it."
"You heard the Minister, Ron. All the Aurors are caught up. The ones still alive anyway," I remind him.
"Right..."
We're just about finished eating when McGonagall arrives. We look up to her, "Follow me," she says simply. We stand, walking together out of the castle, across the grounds, through the village of Hogsmeade until finally, we arrive just outside it. Snow begins to fall and I can't help but shiver.
Not long later, Kingsley arrives. Surprisingly, he's alone.
"My apologies," he tells us, "I've got a couple Aurors that will be joining me soon. We'll wait here for your return," he says to us.
"Should anything happen, anything strange, you must apparate back here at once," she tells us sternly. We nod.
"Mr. Weasley," she says, Ron turns to her, "Your mother expresses great disapproval of your joining. I thought you should know. The choice is yours, however," Ron thinks a moment. It's obvious he doesn't want to go. None of us do but he shakes his head, "No. I'm going." McGonagall nods and steps back.
"You know where to go," Kingsley states. The three of us step close, Ron and Harry grabbing hold of me. I take in a sharp breath, closing my eyes, dreading the next moments. Setting the image of the manor in my mind, I take a step and in a fraction of a second we are gone.
With a faint crack! We disappear from Hogsmeade and land heavily near shrubbery before the gates of Malfoy Manor. Quickly, we jump into the bushes, snow falling onto us. It's mid day, but already growing dark. We crouch together, staying put for a long while before Harry states that it's probably okay to exit the bushes. Ron and I are apprehensive but follow nonetheless. Coming up to the wrought iron gate we find it locked. I pull out my wand, "Alohomora," I whisper, not entirely certain whether or not it will work. To our surprise, it does, and with a gentle nudge the gate swings open, creaking loudly.
"Now's probably a good time to use this," Harry says, taking from his pocket, his invisibility cloak, "We won't all fit," he reminds us.
"You two go ahead, I'll be quiet and follow along here," I say, pointing to the bushes that perimeter the large home.
"No way, Hermione-" Ron tries.
"-Stop, Ron. We don't have a lot of time. Hurry," I tell him seriously. He sets his jaw but obliges. In seconds, the two are completely concealed. I return to the safety of the bushes, traveling behind them, toward the back of the manor, looking for any way inside. From where we stand, it seems that the place is deserted. Just as I figured. I turn my head, watching two pairs of footsteps appear in the snow. They're only a few paces ahead of me.
We come to another gate, using the same spell, it opens with ease. We venture into the back garden of the manor. It's decorated with stone gargoyles, leafless trees, and a small pond placed in the center of it all.
The windows are black, no lights on inside, "There isn't anyone here," I whisper.
"How can we be sure if we haven't gotten inside?" Harry asks, peeking out from underneath the cloak. I see only a sliver of his face, seemingly floating in mid air.
My heart leaps to my throat and I fall to the ground. A blood curdling scream can be heard from within the manor. Materialising next to me, Harry and Ron reappear. Their faces say it all. We are, in fact, not alone. They were right but I know they wished they weren't.
"Harry, we need to go back!" I say harshly, worried that at any moment we will be discovered by whoever is inside.
"No, Hermione. Not yet," Harry says, throwing the cloak over the lot of us. He leads the way, keeping me behind him. Ron stays close behind me, crouching almost completely to keep our feet hidden. My stomach performs somersaults as we approach the steps leading to the back entrance. Harry reaches his hand out, wiping away dust that has accumulated on the windows. It's clear that whoever is in there, hasn't been back for awhile. Scrubbing away the dust with his sleeve he peers in, hoping to see something, anything.
"It's too dark," he says, taking us to the door leading into the house.
"Harry," I whisper, "Harry I don't think this is a good idea," I tell him, practically pleading for him to turn around.
"I agree, mate. C'mon, if we apparate now we might have enough time to get Kingsley back here before it's too late," Ron suggests.
"Either way, we're exposing ourselves. I can't take the risk and let whoever is in there, get away," Harry argues, readying his wand at the lock on the door.
"Harry, you're being stupid!" I spit, grabbing hold of his arm.
"Alohomora," he whispers, ignoring me completely. The door clicks, telling us the spell has worked. It's unsettling to know how easy it is to break into this place. You'd think there would have been something more protecting it. Which leads me to believe that perhaps whoever is inside, didn't expect to be staying long.
The door swings open into an empty room. White cloth covers the furniture, a thick layer of dust settling on the ground. We creep in, holding our breath. I jump at the sound of a moan. It's coming from upstairs. Harry turns to us, putting his finger to his lips.
On light feet, we make our way through the manor, hearing the screams as we go. I'm instantly brought back to that day not so long ago, remembering the fear, the pain and the dawning realisation that death was upon us.
As we reach the top of the landing, we make our way down a narrow corridor. It lets out into a large room. I know this room. It's the same room as before, the same room that we spent our first moments together.
"WHAT DID YOU TELL THEM!" Screams a voice. It is female, shrill and near the point of madness.
"CRUCIO!" she screams, sending her victim into fits of agony. That's when it hits me. It feels as though my heart has stopped beating entirely. Harry turns to me, eyes wide, face as pale as mine I'm sure.
"No, please!" says the man, "Please! I said nothing! It wasn't me!"
"LIAR!"
"No! I swear! Please!" says the man, breaking into sobs.
It takes all of me to look around the corner. It couldn't be. You were safe, you were at the cottage, about to write me back, waiting patiently for me to return to you in just a couple of weeks. The three of us step into the room. I feel numb, disconnected, as though I'm watching the event play out through an old memory.
You're bent over a beaten man. He cradles his head in his arms, body shaking from pain and broken sobs. Narcissa Malfoy stands off to the side, her hands held over her face. She seems distraught.
"Please..." The man says again, revealing his face. He doesn't look familiar to me, that much I am grateful for. He reaches toward you, grabbing lightly onto the hem of your dress. Quickly, you kick him away, disgusted.
"If I find out otherwise..." you warn. The man shakes his head repeatedly, "Leave," you tell him dangerously. The man looks to you with large, frightened eyes, before forcing himself on to shaking legs. He wastes no time in running from the room but in doing so, is headed straight for us. I latch onto Harry and Ron as he whisks by us, nearly loosing my footing. We stumble back onto loose floorboards, they moan under the weight of us. My body stiffens as you turn, devilish eyes scanning the room. Narcissa has removed her hands from her face. She looks to you curiously but soon brushes it off. However, you're not convinced.
"Bellatrix," Narcissa says, "I must leave now. Are you sure you won't come with?" she inquires. You ignore her, looking straight at us. My heart beats furiously.
"Bellatrix, please. I don't have a lot of time. It was a risk coming here in the first place," she reminds you but as you creep closer, hand reaching out, I freeze in place. I can feel the pull of Ron and Harry but I can't seem to get myself to move; I half expected one of them to disapparate but yet, we remain. As your fingers come nearer, they graze the delicate fabric of the cloak and with a firm yank, it reveals us to you.
Narcissa pulls her wand, screaming at us to get out, to leave. You remain, wide eyed, mouth agape. The four of us stare at one another for what seems like ages, none able to move a muscle. A spell whizzes by, crashing against the wall behind us. We fall to the ground, ducking as more spells fly toward us. With haste, I grab the cloak and in less than a second have latched back onto both Harry and Ron. Another spell barrels toward us, missing only by a few millimeters.
"Stop!" you scream at your sister, "Wait!" you say to us, "Wait...Hermione...it isn't as it seems..." you tell me in a gentle, shaking whisper. I steel my gaze, stepping back from you and with a loud pop! We are gone.
We land heavily into snow, the cloak slipping off of us. It is there, as the sun sinks below the hills, that I fall apart.
I feel the hands of my friends as they drop next to me, speaking comforting words but I can not decipher them. After a short time but long enough for the snow to melt around me, sinking deeply into my clothes, Harry looks to Ron.
"I'll go find the others. Stay here," he tells him, jumping up and running off into the village. By this time, it is now completely dark.
"Hermione..." Ron says softly, "Hermione, c'mon. They'll be here soon, they can't see you crying," he expresses. He's right, this I know. I push myself onto my knees, looking to him through tear stained eyes. Wiping them off with my sleeve, I take in a shaky breath and nod.
In seconds, we are surrounded by Kingsley and his Aurors, with Harry in the lead.
"Take us," Kingsley demands looking down to me. His brow furrows with concern before he, Harry and the Aurors disappear. McGonagall rushes forward, snow kicking up around the edges of her cloak.
"Ms. Granger?" She asks, a light hand coming to rest on my back.
"I'm fine, Professor. Really," I tell her, standing. I'm not crying any longer, but I can feel the tightness around my eyes. I know I don't look well. McGonagall studies me before looking to Ron.
"You two should head back, get warm," she tells us softly. I shake my head, "I can't leave Harry."
"Ms. Granger, I assure you, Harry is safe," she pauses, "You three did well," she adds.
I feel the hands of Ron once again. One on my shoulder, the other, on my arm. He leads us away, through the main road of Hogsmeade and up the steep hills of the Hogwarts grounds, where finally, we make it into the castle. The warmth from Entrance Hall kisses my frozen skin, allowing me to draw in a much needed breath.
The Great Hall bustles with noisy students, eager for dinner to begin.
"We should wait here," he tells us. I follow him silently to the Gryffindor table, wishing to be back in the quiet of our common room. A few of our friends come by, sitting next to us, chatting about this or that. I block it out, thinking on what I had just recently discovered. Everything everyone suspected was true. I had been fooled, used, manipulated into thinking you weren't really what we all knew you to be.
It's my fault, really. Honestly. I'm an easy target. For some reason, I have this insatiable need to help, defend and protect those that can't do it for themselves. However, I wonder what the point was in tricking me into believing there was love. Are you even capable of feeling such things?
"Are you alright?" I hear. I look to my side. Seated next to me is Neville.
"Hello, Neville," I respond as best I can, "Only tired."
"This year is quite a handful, isn't it?" He responds, trying his hand at small talk. I nod in agreement. "Especially with all the extra herbology classes I'm taking..." he says mostly to himself, "I just wanna do it right, you know?" he finishes, loading up his dinner plate.
"Oi, it's Harry," Ron says quietly. I look up, seeing Harry marching toward us. We stand quickly and meet him.
"They were gone. They must have heard us disapparate and left just after," he tells us under his breath. Holding my own, I'm eager to know what all he has told them.
"I- I didn't tell them about Bella," he adds, looking to me with angry green eyes. I feel a hot flash of guilt. After a moment, I respond, "You should have."
"No. It'd be too dangerous for Ron's family," Harry reminds me seriously. He is right. There is nothing we can say to anyone, save for warn the others.
That night in the common room, Ron writes a letter home. He explains everything we had seen and done, using subtlety as much as possible, in the event that the letter makes it into the wrong hands on its way to the cottage. We watch the letter disappear into the night, waiting with great anticipation for the reply.
Days pass and without word. We grow antsy, nervous. Why? Why not just scribble down a simple note, just so we know everyone is okay? Kingsley, however, has sent multiple owls. We've done well. Aurors have now been stationed to watch the manor; they're one step closer in catching and bringing to justice, the last of Voldemort's followers.
A couple weeks after the event, we're seated around the fire in the common room, days away from returning to the cottage for the holidays. The news of what I've discovered about Higgs has been burning me up from the inside. I take a breath and chance it, pulling the book from my bag. Flipping to the page, I hand the book to Harry. Ron peers over at it.
"What's this?" Harry asks, pulling the book closer.
"Who does that look like to you?" I ask them.
"Looks like an uptight piece of work, if you ask me," Ron says, digging into his box of Berties.
"What's this about, Hermione?" Harry asks again, setting the book aside.
"Weeks ago I was in the library and I came across this book in the restricted section," I tell them simply, "After reading the chapter, I came across this page. Does that witch not look familiar to you?"
They shake their heads, "No. Sorry."
I let out a frustrated sigh, "It's Higgs, clearly," I tell them. Harry grabs the book again, Ron's nose practically touching the page.
"I mean, there are similarities. But, she has a different name, Hermione," Harry tells me, reading the text underneath the picture.
"And?" I ask, "Since when does that matter?" I pause, "Remember what Higgs said a few months ago, about being a Death Eater? It just made me wonder. Where did she come from? This is her, I'm almost certain of it," I tell them, taking the book back.
Ron shrugs, "And if it is?"
"I don't know... She's always scribbling down notes, asking us strange questions."
"She's a teacher, Hermione," Ron says, setting his sweets aside.
"Have you two seriously forgotten every other Defense Against the Dark Arts professors we've had?" I remind them. They think on this a moment.
"You have a point," Harry tells me, "But then, so what? Why does it matter that she was an Auror? It makes perfect sense that they'd hire someone with her experience to teach here."
"It matters because I think she's searching still. It matters because if she finds out anything, it'll be all of us in questioning, won't it?" I remind them, "It matters same as it did when you decided not to tell Kingsley about Bella, Harry."