Chapter 32
Hermione surveyed her surroundings in Worcester safe house. The bottom floor was chock full of yellow banners and streamers. Little painted badgers were spelled to crawl around the walls they were painted on – and the walls were all charmed yellow.
"It looks like someone projectile vomited popcorn all over the place," Hermione commented to Terry. "This is even more obnoxious than what you and Cho did in the infirmary."
"Ravenclaw Tower," he corrected with a wide grin. "And what did Harry expect? Asking Hannah Abbot of all people to plan a party?"
Hermione turned to him with eyebrows raised. "Why's that?"
"First rule of party planning," he said, taking a sip of Firewhisky. "Never ask a Hufflepuff to plan a party."
The running badgers were dizzying.
"I can't decide if my mood is brightened by the sunny disposition of the room, or if I'll be suffering from a week-long migraine after standing here too long."
"She'll take that as a compliment."
"We," Hannah corrected as she approached them, leaning on Neville's shoulder. Her long blond hair was done in braid and lay over her shoulder.
"Oh," Hermione said, surprised. "Neville helped you?"
At this, Hannah burst into giggles. "Good one, Hermione."
Neville's eyes followed the painted badgers running up and down the walls. "No, this was purely a Hufflepuff effort. Justin, Gwendoline, Susan, Zacharias and the others… they're a cult. A party planning cult." He pecked Hannah on the cheek. "You all did a nice job, bringing up everyone's spirits."
After rumors spread of the Order's gutted finances, a sinking feeling of despair crept among the members. It was fear of the unknown which depressed everyone, and leadership knew they had to make decisions quickly to stem the tanking morale. Shortly afterwards, leadership determined they would lose Haverhill and the currently decorated Worcester safe house, go back to beans, Kingsley wouldn't be able to bribe his informants, Hermione's Portkey project would regress to relying solely on stolen potions ingredients and/or stolen Portkeys, and if those efforts weren't enough, the prisoners would be transported from Pinner to Dorchester infirmary to consolidate the cost of maintaining safe houses.
Kingsley was working his other funding sources. It was hoped he would come through before any drastic changes were made, like with the safe houses. Some Order members whose families were in hiding wondered if they should join them to ease the soon-to-be cramped living conditions, but at the same time, they didn't want to endanger those they loved by their presence.
While the impending reduction in quality of life brought everyone's mood down, no one was scared anymore. They knew what was coming and they would adjust, just like how things were last summer. It was a significant setback, but they weren't defeated. Not by a long shot, and that's what this party was about. The Hufflepuffs decided to go for broke and use the rest of the alcohol on hand in a good-bye party to Worcester safe house.
Hermione wished she could share the Horcrux destruction with everyone. If only they knew just how much the Order wasn't defeated, and still charging on despite the setback.
It helped that the majority of the Order consisted of twenty-somethings and wizards and witches that had recently come of age. While inexperience was a disadvantage to being such a young army, the ability to adapt and bounce back quickly was an advantage of youth.
Hannah squeezed Neville in return and replied, "And I got Tonks to promise that only threat of immediate death would be reason to interrupt. No more impromptu meetings spoiling our fun."
"Now that, is what makes a true party planner." Terry pointed at her, holding his glass. "Tonks is a terror. How'd you get her to promise that?"
Hannah turned to him with a sweet smile. "Hufflepuff code."
Terry laughed. "No seriously."
"Hufflepuff code." Hannah blinked. "She's a Hufflepuff."
"Oh," Terry stopped laughing. "You're not kidding."
Hannah put her hand on her hip and furrowed her brow. "Why would you think she isn't a Hufflepuff?"
"Uh oh," Neville murmured and stepped to the side.
Amused, Hermione watched Terry try to recover, realizing he said the wrong thing. "No reason. She just doesn't seem very… Hufflepuffy."
Hannah leaned into Terry, getting in his face. "What exactly do you mean by 'Hufflepuffy'?"
He scratched the back of his head and looked to Hermione for help. She shrugged, taking Neville's cue and staying clear. She had never seen Hannah act this way either and was morbidly curious. Also happy she wasn't on the receiving end of… whatever this was. It had an uncanny resemblance to getting chewed out by Tonks.
"You know…" his voice trailed off in a very un-Ravenclaw like way.
She jutted her chin out towards Terry. "I don't. You'll have to explain."
"Just… somewhat… nice. Cheerful." He smiled, hoping to have found a way to placate her. "Like you!"
"Everyone here is nice and cheerful, Terry," Hannah hissed at him. "And so is Tonks. So what did you mean?"
He shuffled his feet. "Well, um…. Hufflepuffs just seem to be a rather agreeable lot, you know?"
"Agreeable?" Hannah repeated, her voice rising.
Neville inched away towards Hermione.
"Maybe… you know… nice and harmless."
"Nice and harmless?" Hannah growled right in his face and Terry winced. "You think Hufflepuffs are harmless?"
Terry glanced up and noticed that Zacharias, Susan, Gwendoline and Justin had approached while he was preoccupied with Hannah. They appeared, for all intents and purposes, ready to lynch him. Standing behind the Hufflepuffs, Seamus was violently making the 'cut' motion across his throat for Terry to stop talking immediately.
No one else had noticed the conversation.
Neville leaned over to whisper in Hermione's ear. "I told you. A cult."
Hermione remembered how Tonks had yelled at her. Maybe Hufflepuffs tended to have anger management issues.
Terry turned down to face Hannah, wide eyed. "Not harmless. They're uh… badass."
Seamus gave him a thumbs-up and nodded sagely.
She raised an eyebrow. "Say it again, Terry."
"Hufflepuffs are badass," he repeated, with more confidence.
She gave him a bright grin and with a light punch on the arm replied, "That's the spirit! Can I bring you some brownies courtesy of Molly Weasley? They're almost gone!"
"No thanks," Terry said, shaken from the surreal experience of having just been threatened by Hannah Abbot, of all people. "I'm good."
"Glad you're enjoying the party," she turned to Neville. "I just want to make sure I cleared out the Butterbeer supply." She gave him a peck on the cheek and skipped into the kitchen, Neville following after.
Terry turned back to Hermione. "Did I really just get threatened by Hannah Abbot?"
"If I hadn't seen it for myself, I never would have believed that actually happened."
Terry shuddered and downed the rest of his Firewhisky.
"Want another?" she asked with a chuckle.
"Yeah."
Zacharias Smith was still giving Terry the stink-eye but the other Hufflepuffs had returned to whomever they were talking with.
Her thoughts returned to the consolidation of safe houses, and she wondered who would be sharing her room besides Lavender. Each of their beds would be transfigured to bunks of three.
Ugh.
She sighed and turned to Terry. "I guess we're losing Mary."
He looked taken aback. "Why would you say that?"
"Because we can't pay her anymore."
He furrowed his brows at her, offended for his mentor. "You think she's doing this for the money?"
Hermione peered at him in thought. No. Much as Hermione despised Mary, she wasn't here for the money. She operated on principles and she was devoted to teaching Cho and Terry. Mary wasn't stupid. Maybe she knew how much her Portkeys had cost the Order.
"Trust me," Terry snorted. "The Order isn't paying her a fraction of what she's worth. You have no idea how much you lucked out with her."
"No, you're right, she's an extremely competent Healer."
"'Competent' isn't the word I would use," Terry said after sipping his Firewhisky. "Do you know she has us working twelve-hour days? Nearly every day of the week."
Hermione turned to him in surprise. "Seriously?"
Cho and Terry lived at Cambridge safe house. She didn't see them much.
"What did you expect? Healer training is-"
"Four years plus two more of rotation. She's told me," Hermione cut him off with an eye roll.
"She works us hard." He shrugged. "There's no other way to do it. But she puts in even more hours, getting us set up for whatever it is she'll teach. She barely sees Reginald anymore."
"Oh." Hermione always thought Mary considered herself above it all. She certainly acted like she was above it all. As it turned out, Mary was knee deep in the war like the rest of them.
"We've been following Muggle emergency dispatchers to treat diseases and injuries, and she's thinking of contacting a colleague at St. Mungo's so we can treat magical ailments and curses on the sly."
"No kidding." Hermione was floored. "I thought you just spent your time in the infirmary." She shrugged. "It's not as if I talk to her. I can't stand her."
He shook his head. "You don't have to like her. She makes Cho cry at least once a week."
"So Cho doesn't like her?"
He grinned. "Cho loves her. Haven't you ever had a mentor that was hard on you?"
Tonks.
"I have," Hermione agreed reluctantly. "Has she made you cry?"
He took another swig of his whisky. "No comment."
Terry caught Cho's eye and, after excusing himself, followed Cho through the crowd and out the back.
Hermione scanned the room. Everyone seemed to be taking the impending loss of the two safe houses in stride. They'd already lived in cramped conditions before, they could do it again. Hermione felt better in that they wouldn't lose their Healer, but she was worried about her progress with Portkeys, and had no idea how the loss of paid informants would affect them in the short or long term.
Her eyes landed on Eloise Midgen, sitting by herself, people watching. Eloise was friendly enough, but didn't seem to have any close friends. She didn't look upset though.
Hermione shifted her gaze to Lavender, currently snogging the life out of Oliver Wood in an inconspicuous corner of Worcester safe house. Apparently she was done with Justin now and back with Oliver.
Perhaps it wasn't very inconspicuous, but so many people were paired off that no one noticed. Oliver's hand slid down to cup Lavender's rear and squeezed. Hermione tilted her head to the side. From the way Lavender was rubbing up against him, they'd probably disappear to someone's bedroom soon.
Hermione chastised herself and averted her eyes. She shouldn't be watching. She was just so frustrated lately.
No thanks to a certain blond Slytherin.
Arsehole.
Her anger bubbled up inside all over again. But could she really blame him? He was scared for himself and his parents. She didn't know what she'd do in Malfoy's position. She was furious at him, but she couldn't entirely find fault with what he had done. It seemed like a no win situation.
And on that same note, she had to deal with Ron. Hermione had been putting this off long enough and she couldn't let him continue thinking they would have something together. It wasn't fair to him.
Hermione glanced over to where he was sipping a Firewhisky with Dean and Harry. She looked down at her own half-finished glass and knocked it back, wincing as it went down. It wasn't as good as the bottle she had shared with the senior leadership after Kingsley had secured funding from the states, but it did the job.
After a few minutes, the anxiety she felt about facing Ron dissipated somewhat and she straightened her shoulders. The sooner this was done, the sooner he would move on and find happiness with someone else. And the sooner she could… well… she didn't know what she could do.
After her conversation with Tonks, that answer was nothing. She could do nothing.
She walked over to the three men and laced her fingers in Ron's. He turned to face her with a warm smile, cheeks slightly reddened from the alcohol.
"Can we talk for a moment?"
Harry and Dean shared a knowing look that she did her best to ignore. Everyone was pairing off. She knew how this appeared and felt even worse. Ron let her pull him, leading him through the crowd and out to the back porch.
"We're not going upstairs?" Ron asked, confused.
Now he wanted to snog? Maybe the alcohol had loosened him up. Or the success over destroying the Horcrux. Or both.
Hermione shook her head. "Outside."
"Oh," he said, somewhat disappointed. "'Talk' wasn't code for something else?"
Hermione looked back into his confused blue eyes and then turned towards the door, pushing it open. Ron followed her, reluctantly now, and they exited into the cool night air. Cho and Terry were battling tongues on a bench, oblivious to the two of them. She led him further out onto the lawn and around to the side of the house, away from the snogging Healer couple so they wouldn't be heard.
When she had put enough space between them and everyone else, she turned around and stared up at him nervously. She didn't know how to say this in a way that wouldn't hurt him. Ron would be hurt, there wasn't any way to avoid it.
She took a deep breath.
"Ron," she started. "I've been confused. About you, about us, about what I feel."
"You have seemed distant lately," he said warily. "About that anyway. I thought you wanted us to happen."
"Yes, I did," she agreed. "But I don't think it's a good time for me to form a romantic attachment."
"Why not?" he asked, slightly irritated. "Everyone else is." He motioned back towards the house.
"I know," she persisted. "It could be because of the additional responsibilities from working with the senior leadership." One responsibility in particular. "But I'm not sure what I want. It's not fair to you. I don't want to keep you tied to me."
"But I want to be tied to you, Hermione," he insisted. "Don't you feel the same?"
"I did," she paused. "But I don't know if I still feel that way now." She shook her head. She couldn't be ambiguous; he'd latch onto that. She had to be firm and end it. "I don't feel that way now."
"What's changed then?" Ron stared at her for a moment and then his voice became low and angry. "There's someone else. Isn't there?"
She didn't know why, perhaps because in a way he was right and for some irrational reason she was terrified he'd figure out precisely who that someone else was, she started to Occlude.
"No, of course not," Hermione replied calmly, detached.
"Who is it?" he raised his voice and without blinking, she cast a Muffliato before someone could overhear their argument.
"No one," she replied, in a disaffected tone. "There isn't anyone else. I just don't want to lead you on."
Ron jerked his head back. "What the hell is that?"
"What is what?" she asked softly, tilting her head.
"You're… You're not acting like you. You're…" his eyes widened and his voice rose even louder. "Are you using fucking Occlumency on me?" Like Harry, he knew she had been taking lessons.
Hermione didn't want to lie to him and stopped immediately. She shook her head and rubbed her eyes.
"I'm sorry," she said, lowering her hands and peeking up at him. She could hear the emotion return to her voice now.
"Since when do you use fucking Occlumency on me?" he yelled, throwing his unfinished glass of Firewhisky onto the ground. "On your friends? After everything we've been through? You don't trust me?"
"Of course I trust you! Sometimes it can be reflexive," she explained. Her words came out in a rush, frantic to quell his rising fury. "I didn't mean to, I'm sorry, Ron."
"Reflexive when?" he snarled at her. "When you're lying?"
"I'm not lying to you!" She raised her voice, getting angry now.
"Who is it?" he spat out.
"I'm not with anyone," she repeated, balling her hands into fists at her side. "I swear it. I'm confused and I don't want to hurt you more than you already are!" That was the truth. It was hard, it was hurtful, but that was the truth.
Ron glared down at her. "Right."
He turned around and stalked back into the house.
oooooooooooo
Draco dove to avoid the spell reflected off the dummy and rolled on the pitch, firing back. The grass was still wet with frost from the morning, despite the warming charm. A movement caught his eye and he saw Jugson's bulky frame walking over. Draco groaned inwardly. Just what he needed. Someone else from the Inner Circle getting on his case.
"Malfoy!" Jugson's gruff voice called out.
"Yeah?"
He pushed himself up off the ground and eyed the older Death Eater warily as he approached, wiping his hands on his trousers. Draco hadn't seen him since the Lovegood raid when Jugson had inexplicably defended him in front of the Dark Lord.
"Your father said you'd been practicing." He crossed his arms in front of his barrel shaped chest and motioned to the dummy with his grizzled chin. "Go ahead."
Draco eyed Jugson suspiciously, wondering what he was doing here, but did as he was told, firing off a series of spells while maintaining a shield. He dodged when he was able, absorbed backfire when he couldn't, and recast his shield when its magical energy was close to depletion. After ten minutes of constant movement, Jugson told him to stop. He bent over, panting, hands on his knees and wiped the sweat from his forehead.
"Not bad for a soft, spoiled brat," Jugson said, and whacked Draco on his shoulder, knocking him forward. Bloody hell. "Show me your grip."
Draco glanced at him in surprise. Was Jugson giving him advice? Death Eaters never helped each other out. They fought for the Dark Lord's approval and could be cruel and vindictive in their desperation to get it. Still suspicious, he assumed a dueling stance and held his wand out towards the dummy. Jugson grabbed his hand roughly, making him wince, shifted Draco's grip on his wand and made him extend his index finger along the wood.
"That's less comfortable," Draco commented after making a few practice spell motions.
"Comfort's for tossers that get killed." Jugson shot back. "Extending your index finger improves your aim, the higher grip makes it easier to shift between shield and offensive spells."
Draco made another practice motion. "I've never seen anyone hold their wand like that."
"'Cause they're tossers that get killed. Or captured," Jugson replied in annoyance. "How do you think a bunch of fucking children were able to hold off some of the Dark Lord's best at the Department of Mysteries?"
Draco flared his nostrils in irritation. That wasn't what happened at all. No one would let him or his father forget the failure of fifth year. But if he said something Jugson would probably knock his teeth out and leave. It wasn't often one was offered free advice in the Dark Lord's army. Most conspired against each other for the Dark Lord's favor.
Aside from that, Jugson was right, and Draco listened. Sixth year had taught him well that there were times when he needed to shut the fuck up.
"Complex spells won't save you if a first year manages to get your wand. You're young."
Jugson made to smack the back of Draco's head but he was ready this time and raised his arm up protectively.
"The fuck?"
Jugson laughed at him. "You've got reflexes and speed on your side. But you don't have the power that comes with age and experience. Aim, pronunciation and wand technique are more important for you to cast correctly and land your target. That's what you need to focus on at your age." He pointed his wand at the dummy and removed the reflective charm. "Cast whatever you want."
Draco ensured his grip was as Jugson taught him, aimed carefully at the dummy and hit it square in the chest. He looked back at Jugson, who nodded.
"Again."
Draco fired again with less time to aim and hit the chest.
"Again." Draco fired. "Again." Draco fired. The commands picked up speed and Draco's aim started to waiver until he missed the dummy entirely. But he had to admit, his aim was much better than before.
Jugson turned to him, not even looking in the direction of the dummy, merely pointing his wand in its general direction. Draco watched five rapid fire nonverbal spells hit their mark, one after the other.
Jugson grinned at Draco's shock, teeth gleaming.
"You'll get there with time, but there's no substitute for hard work. Keep at it, Malfoy. I'll be back again to yell at your spoiled arse some more. The Dark Lord needs serious people working for him." He spat on the ground and stalked off the grounds. "Too many sodding fanatics."
Chapter end notes:
I took inspiration for the Jugson/Draco dynamic from the Mad-Eye Moody/Draco dynamic in the OG, No Longer Helpless by DB2020.
Also, Hufflepuff gets shit on constantly in fanfiction. When the house is mentioned, it's usually as the butt of a joke. The only time I remember some way cool Hufflepuff action was with the Squeaky Mice in The Gloriana Set by ThebeMoon. Some House pride is in order.
Next chapter – Draco and Hermione have a sit down.