Author's Note – I know this is a little late, but I worked a lot this week and didn't have the time to work on Fire Dragon. Hopefully, this week will be kinder to the writer in me. I'm fond of this chapter, specifically the end. Let me know what you think.
Another Note – The chapter title means, "News From the Outside," in Latin.
Disclaimer – I own nothing except the concept of the Ignius.
Chapter Fifty Five
"Novus Extrinsecus"
The house that the DA Core resided in, though a mystery in more ways than they could presently explain, was an amenable comfort, all of their needs met and exceeded. Several blissful days passed in peace and comfort, days in which they recuperated mentally, emotionally, and physically from the battle. Their wounds, unfortunately, were not just on the outside, the horrors of their memories of those frenzied number of hours lurking beneath the surface of their thoughts. However, they had each other, that in itself being enough for the moment. And, as anybody would say, life went on.
On their second morning in the house, an owl arrived, tapping at the kitchen window.
Hermione, Draco, Ron, and Luna looked up, the rest of their friends still sleeping.
"Um, we have an owl," Ron said lethargically, his eyes heavily lidded as his head drooped down towards his breakfast.
"No shit Weasley," Draco growled, snarling in the general direction of the red-head.
Neither had slept well the previous night.
Rolling her eyes in irritation, Hermione got up from the table. Pushing the curtain to the side, the view of Hogwarts as pristine as ever, she unlocked the latch on the window and heaved it upwards. Warm, yet muted, morning sunshine filtered into the room as the owl soared into the kitchen. Experimentally, she peeked outside.
"That's interesting," Luna said, brushing against Hermione's shoulder.
The blond girl wore an interesting combination of stripped pajama pants and a silk embroidered blouse, her friends having long since dismissed her strange sense of fashion. Upon investigation of the bedrooms, the DA Core had found the wardrobes and drawers filled with clothing, everything and anything they might have a need for.
"What is?" Harry asked, entering the kitchen wearing only a pair of blue, cotton pajama bottoms.
Ginny followed him, rubbing her eyes sleepily, her red hair almost as bushy as Hermione's. "Huh?"
"Out the window," Luna said. "It's there, yet not there all at the same time."
The Hogwarts out the open window was viewed as if through a film, the borders of the castle and surrounding grounds blurred around the edges. Harry, reaching forward, stuck his hand outside. Tingling crept up his arm, his hand finding an unseen resistance outside the window. Frowning, he shrugged and closed the window, resolving to sit down for breakfast. A box of Wizard O's sat on the table.
"Oi, who finished off the Wizard O's?" he asked just as the box shuffled on the inside, cereal reappearing. "Oh, right," he muttered, pouring the cereal into a bowl. "I keep forgetting about that…"
Hermione sat back down beside Draco, nursing a cup of tea and a piece of buttered toast.
So…Draco began, half finished with his oatmeal.
So what?
He glanced over at her, raising his eyebrows as he nodded at the window.
What's with the window?
Why don't you go open it and find out for yourself? She snapped in a nasty manner.
Being the first to grab the paper, she opened it, shaking it out. It boasted the following headline:
ALBUS DUMBLEDORE DEAD
Snape, Known Deatheater, Kills Albus Dumbledore
By: Penny Broomhilda
Two nights ago, during what has been referred to as The Hogwarts Battle, Albus Dumbledore, leader of The Light, was killed at the hand of Severus Snape, now a known Deatheater. Severus Snape, Potions Master at Hogwarts School…
Hey! That was completely unnecessary. Draco pushed down the newspaper she held up to her face.
I don't care, she said, snapping the paper away.
Draco paused and frowned. Are you mad at me?
Both had ceased eating, the rest of the DA Core present noticing the death glare coming from Hermione.
Leave me alone.
I would if you weren't being a complete-
A complete what? Her eyes drilled holes in his face, flaming beneath the brown.
Hermione…
Come on, what were you going to say?
He sighed and shook his head, returning to his oatmeal.
DRACO MALFOY!
Don't shout at me.
I'll shout if I want to.
Then I won't listen to you. I didn't do a bloody thing, and you're shouting at me. Whatever is going on with you, you should at least say something. Don't just yell at me. I won't stand for it, Hermione. Ever so slightly, Draco dimmed their connection. He felt Hermione revolt and closed his eyes against the drumming at the back of his mind.
Fed up, she slammed the newspaper down on the table. Standing, she shoved her chair in, the table quaking.
"Oi, watch it, Hermione. You made me spill," Ron accused, pulling his cereal bowl closer to his body.
Hermione ignored him, brushing past Draco, her barefooted steps clipping as she stalked out of the kitchen, passing by Neville as he entered.
"What's going on?" he asked, glancing between Hermione, his stunned friends, and a frustrated Draco.
"Nothing, Longbottom," Draco said, standing up, walking out after her.
Eyebrows held upwards, Neville sat down beside Luna, glancing over Harry's shoulder as the black-haired boy picked up the paper.
"Where'd that come from?" he asked.
"An owl brought it," Harry said, baring his teeth at the headline and at Snape's name broadcasted across it.
"How?"
"The window, love," Luna said. "It's an enchanting house, isn't it? There are secrets everywhere." She smiled softly, her eyes containing a far-off sheen.
Draco moved down the hallway, stopping outside the door that lead to the blue bedroom. It had slammed moments earlier as Hermione tossed herself through the doorway, only anger and what Draco was beginning to distinguish as despair communicated through their link. Tentatively, he knocked on the door.
Hermione?
Nothing.
Hand on the doorknob, he turned it, the door opening a few inches. Quietly, he slipped into the room. Hermione lay on her side, facing the window. Muggle children ran through the streets, the world outside that particular window descending into twilight, and soon after, nighttime. For them, it was morning, and Draco spent a moment pondering their location.
A sniffling on the bed drew his attention away from the window. Three beds filled the room, Hermione, Ginny, and Luna sharing the blue bedroom. A table lamp glowed beside Hermione's bed, casting the room in a warm light. The room was spacious, though not overly so.
"Are you mad at me?" he asked outloud, sitting down at the foot of the bed.
A meek, no, was Hermione's answer.
Then what was that all about?
Nothing.
Hermione Granger, that was not nothing.
She sniffled, running her face across the pillow.
Draco reached out, shifting closer, his hand resting on her shoulder. Tell me.
Rolling over, she glanced up at him before studying the blue quilt.
Hermione…
She opened her mouth, intending to speak, but that only resulted in a sob, one coming after the other. Curling into herself, Hermione clutched her hands to her chest.
"Hey, hey, don't cry," he said, pleading, as he leaned down to lay beside her, shifting to accommodate his still bound wing, the appendage on the mend, magic helping it along. "Hermione, what's the matter. Please tell me."
Come on, you know how I hate when you cry. His tone turned humorously sarcastic. In fact, I'd probably do anything for you if you turned the waterworks on. It's irresistible.
Poking one eye out, she stared at him.
Ok, I'm sorry. But, really, what's going on?
I…I don't know. All I wanted to do since I woke up was cry, cry and hate the world.
It's an unfair place that we live in, he said.
I guess I'm just tired…
We all are.
I didn't sleep last night.
Nightmares?
Yeah.
Join the club. We're all having them. I think this was the first time I've seen Weasley up before nine in the morning on a day that we don't have classes.
Hermione turned quiet. We're never going to have classes again.
You don't know that. We still have our seventh year.
First we'll have to finish our sixth, she said logically, clutching onto his t-shirt. That's if there's still a Hogwarts.
Of course there will be. There's always a Hogwarts.
She didn't answer, nestling closer to Draco.
I'm sorry.
It's ok, he said, running a hand up and down her back, content to merely lay with her. After a while, his stomach protested the only partial breakfast fed to it earlier. Hey, let's go see if Weasley's eaten all of the cauldron cakes we found last night.
Self replenishing charms, she murmured as an answer, a hand reaching up to grab at Draco as he began to sit up. Don't go…
Sighing, ignoring his stomach for the time being, he settled back down beside his mate. His hand combed through her hair as she drifted off to sleep, his eyes watching as the sky outside faded.
Every morning, an owl delivered the latest edition of the Daily Prophet to the house, the bird always arriving at the kitchen window. The headlines varied, though all pertained to the same general topic: the war. The Sunday evening edition of The Daily Prophet featured:
THE SECOND WAR BEGINS
The Light Meets He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named Head-On
By: Penny Broomhilda
For fifteen years, after an infant Harry Potter defeated You-Know-Who, the Wizarding World had lived in peace. However, a dark shadow hung over the community, the fear of a Second War heavy in their minds. Our worst fears are upon us…
Monday's owl post brought:
THE DA CORE: THEIR ROLE IN THE HOGWARTS BATTLE
Once Again, Harry Potter And His Friends Make History
By: Keith Greenman
Any witch or wizard remembers the fiasco at the Ministry of Magic at the end of last Spring. They would also remember the role the DA Core played. Apparently, our friends are out to make history again…
The evening post, a Special Edition, printed a memorial piece to Albus Dumbledore, articles detailing the highlights of his life and his greatest achievements. A rumor of a published book on the Light's leader was in the works, editorial writer, Jean Panthes filling a page with wistful recollections and deep praises for the genius who had first thought of the idea.
Tuesday brought Christmas Eve and, yet, another issue of the Daily Prophet. The DA Core would receive the news contained within with a heavy heart.
HOGWARTS: THE FIRST TO FALL
Deatheaters Overtake Castle
By: Penny Broomhilda
Four nights ago, Deatheaters stormed Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. A gallant fight ensued, teachers, students, Aurors, and Light advocates battling for the castle that many had called home for seven years. Left in ruins…
"Oh Merlin, there's a picture," Hermione said, hand covering her mouth.
The DA Core, who were just sitting down for dinner, stood and crowded around Hermione.
"No, that can't be Hogwarts," Ginny said.
"Let me see that," Harry said, taking the paper, studying the picture inlaid in the article towards the bottom.
Draco looked over his shoulder. "It can't be."
"No, it is," Luna said, tilting her head to the side. "Here's the lake. I wonder how the giant squid has fared."
Hermione squinted, taking the paper back from Harry. "But…"
Neville looked out the kitchen window, where Hogwarts still stood as whole as ever. He glanced at the picture, darkness hovering over crumbled stone and mortar, before looking out the window again. "That's not possible," he said, pointing to the window.
"This house isn't possible," Ginny said.
Hermione sighed and sat down. "Hey, listen to this…"
Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress, Headmistress in the absence of Albus Dumbledore, stood her ground for four days against the Deatheaters. Refusing to leave the castle, she took shelter in the castle's remains with her fellow professors, fighting the constant flux of Deatheaters. Early this morning, the battle came to an end, McGonagall fleeing…
"Why do I feel like we should have stayed?" Harry asked miserably.
"If we had stayed, we would have died, Potter," Draco said, looking at him across the table. "Then where would we have been?"
"You don't know that."
"No, but it was a very strong possibility," he said.
"Sometimes, the best strategy in battle is to retreat," Ron said. "Fight or flight…we fought and then when it was time to go, so we got out of there."
Harry sighed, not responding to either of them, instead looking at Hermione. "What else does it say?"
"Umm…" she hummed, perusing the paper. "…much of the same…a bit about Dumbledore and, well, that's depressing…"
"Read it," Draco requested.
"It's just the ending statements," she said, but obliged his request.
…and in the wake of recent developments, the fall of Hogwarts stands as a deep wound in the resolve of The Light. Hogwarts had always been a symbolic fortress, impenetrable by any who weren't welcome. The thought of it being controlled by You-Know-Who was unperceivable, and it brings difficult thoughts with it. If Hogwarts can buckle under The Dark's weight, then what chance do the rest of us have?
"That's a happy thought," Ron mumbled, poking at his dinner, his fork toying with half-eaten chicken pie.
The DA Core murmured their agreements, their dinner cast in silence, until Harry spoke up, his voice strong.
"But we can't think like that," he said. "Just because Hogwarts has fallen, doesn't mean that there is no hope."
They were quiet.
"There is hope. Just the fact that we're all alive and still together is hope in itself."
Neville nodded. "Yeah," he said, a smile growing on his face. "Plus, we're the DA Core."
Ron grinned. "We're the DA Core."
"The DA Core," Ginny echoed.
"We can stand against anything," Draco said.
"As long as we're together," Hermione added.
"Nobody can split us up," Luna finished. "We're one and the same, by ourselves and all together."
"We're one and the same, by ourselves and all together," Neville said, banging his fist on the table.
Harry followed his action, his voice copying Neville's words. Hermione, Draco, Ron, Ginny, and lastly, Luna said the words, the words that acted in such a way that was similar to an oath. A spark of energy filled the kitchen, the DA Core filled with surging warmth as they repeated the words. Faces shone in the light, the echoing words resonating in their minds. They were the DA Core, nothing could take them down, not while they had each other.
"Tomorrow's Christmas, you know?" Ginny said later that night after dinner had been eaten and cleaned up.
They sat in the sitting room, a fire crackling in the fireplace.
"It surely doesn't feel like it," Neville said, glancing out the window, the yard just as dreary, though the ghost hadn't shown itself in days.
"I miss how the castle is decorated during the Holidays," Ginny said wistfully. "…and the feast."
"Mmm, yeah, I'll miss the feast too," Ron said.
"Figures," Draco sneered playfully. "All you are is a stomach."
"Oi, I'm more than that!" Ron balked.
"Yeah? Like what?"
"I've got some intestines somewhere here," he answered, patting his belly before breaking out in laughter.
After a good session of laughter, the DA Core quieted down, the realization that there just might not ever be another Hogwarts Christmas settling in their minds.
"I miss Mum," Ginny said next.
"And Dad," Ron added.
"And Charlie…"
"Bill…"
"…and, yeah, I'll even say it, Fred and George too," Ginny said.
Ron wrinkled his nose. "I don't know if I'd go that far," he said, only half serious.
"I wonder what they're doing right now…"
"I hope they're all ok."
"Even Percy?"
A moment of silence…
"Yeah, even Percy…"
Hermione sighed, wondering about her own parents as well. She leaned her head against Draco's shoulder.
At least this Christmas will be better than last year, he thought.
Hey, don't think about that.
I was just saying…
Still, you're not aloud to have those thoughts.
I suppose I'll refrain just for you. But on a different note, you suppose we should do something special tomorrow? As in all of us?
Hermione glanced up at him. It wouldn't be a bad idea. Any ideas? Or shall I share with the others?
I've got nothing…
Sitting up, Hermione called everybody's attention, requesting any and all ideas in regards to tomorrow.
"A feast, definitely a feast," Ron said.
"Duly noted, Weasley," Draco said.
"I think we can pull off a feast," Hermione said. "What else?"
"Decorations," Luna spoke up, lounging in the corner of one of the couches, her feet in Neville's lap. "We'll need decorations."
"Presents would be out of the question," Harry said, "considering everything I got you lot is currently at Hogwarts."
"…or what's left of it," Draco added. "Same goes for me."
"Right, nix the presents," Hermione said, making a checkmark in the air as if crossing presents off on an imaginary list.
"Hot chocolate in the morning," Ginny said. "Mum always makes hot chocolate."
"Yeah," Ron agreed.
"How about a tree?" Hermione suggested, gesturing to the corner where the perch stood by itself. "We could put it over there. Anybody know any spells to conjure a fir tree?"
Collectively, they shook their heads.
"Hmm, I might be able to do a little research…"
But that would take all night, Draco said.
"…but that would take a while," she said, giving Draco a look.
He merely grinned innocently.
"What if we were to transfigure something?" Neville suggested. "There's that fern in the study."
Hermione tapped her wand against her bottom lip. "I think that would work."
"I'll go get it," Neville said, running out of the room.
With a focus in mind, the DA Core set about decorating the house for Christmas, their minds temporarily diverted from the harsher facts of life.
Neville returned with the potted fern, Hermione taking it, turning it this way and that. After instructing that the perch needed to be moved, she set the plant down on the floor and waved her wand. The squat, green plant grew and morphed into a tall, dark-green fir tree with a richly packed set of branches the perfect shape for ornaments. With a tree, there was only one thing the DA Core could do. Strings of fairy lights sprung from Draco's wand, wrapping around the tree as Ron, Ginny, and Luna conjured large baubles to hang on the branches.
Neville and Harry, spotting an old record player on a shelf beside the fireplace, set about shuffling through the collection of albums ordered haphazardly beside the player. After a brief murmured conversation, their heads bowed as they flipped through the records, gentle, soulful music spilled into the room. The beginning stanzas of, I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas, added atmosphere to their Christmas cheer.
Hermione looked over from the window where her wand had been forming ice crystal patterns on the window. "Good touch," she said, smiling.
"I thought so," Harry replied.
"This makes me feel happy," Ginny said, standing back to admire their work in progress.
Luna smiled, her wand creating a green and red paper chain that wound itself messily around the tree.
Draco moved to stand behind Hermione, wrapping his arms around her.
How's your wing, love?
Almost healed, he answered, resting his chin on her shoulder. Have I told you that I love you?
Many times, but I never get tired of hearing it.
I love you.
She turned around, encircling her arms around his neck. I love you too, she said, kissing him.
The night grew late, the hours ticking by one by one, the DA Core in a content state as they finished preparing for the next morning. Flopping back down onto the couches afterwards, they chatted quietly into the night. Gradually, they turned in until all that was left in the sitting room was the handsomely adorned Christmas tree, the frosted windows, and the crackling fire setting everything aglow. It was then, and only then, that a flash of fire appeared in the center of the room. A magnificent red and gold bird gave a quiet, trilling cry, landing on the perch, a thickly rolled parchment tied to its leg.
