Chapter Seven: To Face The Terror
Hogwarts castle resembled the broken-down building Hermione imagined Muggle's saw when looking at the school. Giant chunks were missing from the walls, almost every window had cracked or shattered, and she even thought an entire tower could be missing. The battle had often felt like the apocalypse, and the castle looked like the aftermath. The couple of spells Hermione had researched the day before would be nothing in the face of this mess.
Hermione arrived at Hogwarts with Ron, Harry, Ginny, and Mr and Mrs Weasley early in the morning, just as the sun rose over the lake. They couldn't be certain if reporters would be an issue at the gates, so they erred on the side of caution by coming as close to dawn as Professor McGonagall would allow. She met them at the gate and led them up to the school while discussing all she and other staff members had done to make the castle as safe as possible but also warning that the entire sight was unstable. None of them could have disagreed, seeing the state of things.
The front doors hung ajar, and Hermione was careful not to jostle them as she walked through. Though the day after the battle blurred in her memory, she thought the entrance hall looked just the same as it had when they left Hogwarts nearly a fortnight ago. Debris scattered the floor, and birds fluttered about somewhere in the high ceiling.
Professor McGonagall led them into the Great Hall where no torches or candles were needed to see the four tables lined up, bare but clean. A lot of work had gone into making at least this one space seem put back together, even if it echoed with emptiness. Instead of the usual high table at the front, a model of Hogwarts stood on top of a large square table, complete with a miniature Forbidden Forest and floating lake just below the edge of the table. It appeared these bits were white while the entire castle was red until closer inspection. Though most of the outer castle was red, much of the centre was white. The Great Hall, where they stood now, was a bright blue, along with a few spots that speckled the castle. Very, very few.
"As you can see, there is much work to be done," Professor McGonagall explained as they circled the model.
Mr Weasley clapped his hands as if he'd just been handed a long-awaited project. "Then the sooner we get started the better."
"I actually have a task in mind for you, Arthur," Professor McGonagall said, "if you're up to mending a few portraits who seem to have forgotten how to move."
"Of course!" Mr Weasley nearly toppled over the entire table in his exuberance.
Professor McGonagall smiled, then put back on a stern frown as she turned to Hermione, Ron, Harry, and Ginny. "You four stay put until I come back," she said before taking Mr and Mrs Weasley out of the Great Hall.
"It's almost like she doesn't trust us," Harry muttered, exchanging a look with the three of them before they all laughed.
"And look," Ginny said, motioning to the entrance of the hall, "the great snake-slayer has returned to his battlegrounds."
Neville waved heartedly as he jogged up to them, looking much cleaner and less bloody than the last time they'd seen him. Though they'd been at a few of the same funerals, they always ducked out too early to socialize even with friends. "Morning!" he said with a cheery smile. "Thought I'd be the first one here."
Ginny smirked. "You expected to beat the great Harry Potter, Boy Who Lived and Savior of the Wizarding World? Merlin, you lead one rebellion and think you can do it all."
Neville blushed and shrugged away the comment. "Couldn't have done it without you."
"I can't take much credit after missing what seemed like an exciting final month. Harry said you were hiding out in the Room of Requirement so the Carrows couldn't murder you."
"It was no big deal. They were trying to kill at least half a dozen of us by the end."
"Well, we're glad you were too clever for them," Ron said, clapping Neville on the back. "So why are you here so early? Avoiding the reporters too?"
"Nah, they don't really care about me. I wanted to get out of the Leaky Cauldron before anyone else woke up, though."
"The Leaky Cauldron?" Harry asked. "What are you doing there? And who's everyone else?"
"Long story." Neville motioned them all to sit at the end of what was usually the Ravenclaw table. "Not all of us had places to go after the battle. Gran's house is rubble now, so she's staying with my Uncle Augustin. I wasn't too keen on staying there myself. Not a huge fan of my uncle since the whole dropping me out of a window incident.
"Anyways, inns all over England are filling up with people whose homes have been destroyed, and a couple DA members, including me, managed to get rooms at the Leaky Cauldron before demand went up. Let's see, originally it was just me and Dean. His mum doesn't even know there was a war if you can believe it. Though I guess it's different when you're parents are Muggles." Neville glanced at Hermione, and she quickly nodded and gestured for him to continue. "And then Hannah and Susan showed up. I don't suppose you know everything that happened to them last year."
Neville looked to Ginny, who shook her head. "There's been so much bad news, I haven't filled them in on everything."
"Are they okay?" Harry asked. Hermione imagined Harry was doing the same as her and racking his brain for any memory of those two at the battle, alive or dead.
"Physically, they're fine," Neville said, then sighed heavily. "I feel like I shouldn't be the one to share their stories, and I can only summarize, of course. Well, you know how Hannah's mum was killed our sixth year? Apparently, her father tried giving up magic after that happened, blaming himself I suppose. And Hannah gave it up too for a bit, but when the new school year started, attendance was mandatory. The Carrows fetched her themselves. More like kidnapped her, actually. Plus, they threw her dad into Azkaban for good measure. He's out now, of course, but he's more adamant than ever about leaving the magical world while Hannah wants to stay."
Hermione's head whirred with this new information, her heart tugging for Hannah. She couldn't imagine being in a position where she had to choose between her parents or her magic. And honestly, that could still be a possibility. What if after she revived her parents' memories, they were afraid of magic? What if they were afraid of her?"
"And Susan, I, uh, don't know the whole story. Her dad was killed by DeathEaters over the summer, and over Christmas, her mum died too. Suicide. So…" Neville trailed off, his hands laying palms-up on top of the table.
He took a deep breath before continuing. "Well, they're both staying at the Leaky Cauldron too. Tom didn't have any more room, so Dean gave up his and is sharing with me. Seamus drops by a few times a day, but he's mostly staying with his parents. His mum tried going along with the new Ministry rules, and the Muggle-born Registration Commission oblivated his dad's memory and sent him back to the Muggle world. His mum has been trying to restore it, but they did a shoddy job and really messed up his head."
Hermione's thoughts strayed towards her own parents, wondering how shoddy her spellcasting might have been, but Neville went on before she could spiral too much. "And Lee Jordan and Katie Bell are both there as well. I'll start forgetting names if I try to remember everyone. Oh, but you'll be interested to now that Cormac McLaggen has been popping around a lot."
Both Hermione and Ron stiffened at the name, their faces scrunched up in disgust. "Why's McLaggen hanging around?" Harry asked, a sneer in his voice as well.
"Honestly, I think he might fancy Susan."
"Poor girl," Hermione muttered.
"He's not the worst," Neville said with a shrug. "I can't defend him completely, but he did fight in the battle."
Ron scoffed. "When? We didn't see him."
"He came with the second wave. Apparently, he got a job at the Ministry, and when news spread about the battle, he was one of the first to leave. Guess he's a Gryffindor after all." No else seemed convinced of that, so Neville moved on quickly. "Well, I think the whole DA is planning on coming today, so you'll at least be able to see everyone again. Except Lavender, of course. She's still at St Mungo's."
"She's alive?" Hermione asked, flashes of Lavender's bloodied throat in her mind. There had been so many deaths that Hermione had assumed they simply hadn't been invited to the funeral, and she must have missed the absence of her name in the list of the fallen the Prophet had published. She'd simply assumed, after witnessing Fenrir Greyback's mauling, that Lavender couldn't have survived.
Neville nodded. "Wasn't sure she would make it there for a while. From witnesses, the Healer's thought she was safe from being turned into a werewolf, but Greyback must've been partially transformed or simply that far gone. There was a full moon last night, and she caused quite a lot of chaos in her ward. Plus, she reopened all of her freshly healed wounds, which turned out to be a good thing for the rest of St Mungo's. Nearly bleeding out even slows down a terrified werewolf."
"Wow," Ron said, his pale skin now a tint of green.
"Yeah… they've moved her to a more secure room. No one really knows where. She's not allowed visitors anymore. Though she refused to let anyone but family and Pavarti visit her before then, so not much has changed. Still feel bad for her though, stuck in the hospital all alone."
"I hope she'll be okay," Ginny said. "She taught me a lot of healing spells during our revived DA meetings. And she was always so optimistic about things getting better."
Hermione felt like she'd been pushed out of the loop. Her memories of Lavender were much different from Neville and Ginny's. If it wasn't her mangled form, it was her arms tangled in Ron's hair as she kissed him. She felt ashamed at not being more observant over Lavender's state, or even whether she was alive or dead.
"Nice to see you've all finally learned to listen," Professor McGonagall said as she approached their table with a smile. "Good to see you again, Mr Longbottom."
"You too, professor. Have you got a plan for us?"
"I wish I had a better one," Professor McGonagall admitted, bringing the group of them back over to the model of Hogwarts. "As you might have already figured out, this is a live model of the castle's structure. The blue parts have been completely restored, which at the moment, is only this room. We wanted at least one safe spot for everyone to gather in. The white indicates where the structure has been stabilized, and you can see we've started at the centre and are working our way out. And the red areas are where the castle is unstable. No one but a few of the staff that have been working on the structural integrity are allowed in these areas." She gave Harry a pointed look.
"Stay in the white areas. Got it," Harry said with a guilty grin.
Professor McGonagall pursed her lips, obviously not completely believing him. "And don't go anywhere alone," she added. "Just in case."
"Think we can manage that," Ron said. "And Hermione knows all the spells we need."
Colour flushed Hermione's cheeks. She'd only been able to find a few construction charms the day before. After Ron left her room, she had tried to settle down with a charms book, but the silence of the empty room crept up on her with every minute that passed. She'd only managed to browse through a few pages before having to leave the room. Her guilt only doubled when Professor McGonagall said, "I wouldn't expect anything else. Professor Flitwick and I will be making rounds as well if you find yourselves stuck."
"Should we get started then?" Harry asked eagerly.
"If you want, I won't stop you," Professor McGonagall said, "though I don't think anyone else will be here for another hour or so. And, I almost forgot, Professor Sprout specifically asked if you would join her in the greenhouses, Mr Longbottom."
Neville stood up straight. "She asked for me?"
"Pomona Sprout doesn't trust just anyone with her plants."
"Brilliant," Neville muttered, his eyes as bright as Harry's now. Both of them looked ready to sprint out of the Hall, so Ginny made the parting move by pointing out the nearest white area on the model castle and suggesting they start there. Once in the Entrance Hall again, Neville really did sprint away, shouting over his shoulder that he'd meet up with them again later.
Hermione, Ron, Harry, and Ginny made their way up the grand marble staircase, avoiding the still broken bits. That work seemed a little too delicate for their experience in construction charms, so they moved on to the nearest corridor. Besides a few fallen portraits and suits of armour, the worst damage seemed to be the door of the first classroom, which had been blasted off its hinges. The splintered wood lay scattered across the floor of the classroom, and the frame was missing quite a few chunks. Ron released a few balls of light from his Deluminator into the dark classroom and revealed the mess of desks and chairs and chalkboards. Along one wall was a large gruesome picture of figures being burned at the stake.
"Isn't this the Muggle Studies classroom?" Hermione asked, wondering if she'd lost her bearings so much she'd mixed up this classroom with History of Magic.
"Yeah," Ginny said bitterly, "not that you could count what Carrow taught as Muggle Studies. It felt more like an introductory lesson in being a blood purist. We had to recite the names of all the Pureblood families." She pointed out a framed document of the Sacred Twenty-Eight list. A few names, including Abbott and Weasley, had both been crossed out. "If you refused, sometimes you got detention, and sometimes she'd pick someone out to torture you until you did."
"That's awful," Hermione said, the only one able to say anything. Ron and Harry had both gone quiet.
Ginny shrugged. "I watched more than went through the torture myself. That was the awful part. Neville took the brunt of it. The Carrows really hated him."
Harry kicked at a piece of rubble, his shoulders sagging down as he sulked. Ginny took notice and said, "Anyways, the past is the past. We should get started."
Hermione wished she could leave behind the past as easy as that instead of relying on Calming Draught to get to sleep every night. At least teaching the other three the charms needed to repair the doorway took her mind off of her frustrations with herself. The spells were simple enough, doubling pieces of rubble to make up from the bits that were dusted away then using all the pieces to repair the walls. Everyone caught on quickly, and the four of them went from working together to muttering to themselves to falling silent as they repeated the same spells again and again until doing them nonverbally came naturally.
By the time they'd finished repairing the corridor and setting the suits of armour and portraits right, other people began to arrive. At first, only members of Dumbledore's Army came through, stopping to chat for a short time before moving on to their own tasks, but soon other alumni spotted Harry and were a tad less respectful. Oliver Wood lamented the burnt Quidditch pitch more than any loss of life, and Romilda Vane's mum berated Harry for not doing a proper interview with the Daily Prophet.
"I think it's about time we asked Neville about Gryffindor's sword," Harry said, glaring after a family they didn't even know who'd asked for pictures and autographs.
"You go ahead," Hermione said, testing the newly repaired door to the Muggle Studies classroom. "I'd like to finish in here before lunch."
"Yeah, we won't be recognized as much with you gone," Ron said with a teasing grin. Hermione hadn't expected Ron to stay but felt her heart warm at how automatic his response had been.
"Well, I'm not missing out on any more adventures," Ginny said, jumping to take Harry's arm. "We should see if our secret passage down to the lake is still there."
As she pulled Harry away down the corridor, Ron blinked after them. "Their secret passage?"
"Probably best not to think too much about it," Hermione said and tugged at his sleeve. "We should get to work before anyone else comes through."
Ron nodded and followed her into the disastrous classroom. "Think we should start by getting rid of these," Ron said and Vanished the framed list of surnames and the grotesque portrait of burning witches.
Hermione conjured a broom to start on the dusting while she and Ron sorted through the desks and chairs and blackboards, repairing and cleaning as needed. Time passed quickly as they worked, the sun through the windows glowing brightly by the time they'd set all the desks back into place. The enchanted broom settled into the corner with its mountain of dirt. Ron went over to get rid of it while Hermione went to the back of the classroom where a large bookshelf had been toppled over. It used to contain all sorts of Muggle literature, but the few titles she'd read of the books that had fallen out of it were far more sinister.
She flicked her wrist to right the shelf, yelping when a figure popped out from underneath it. The bookcase fell backwards and crashed to the floor.
"Hermione?" Ron's voice sounded behind her, but she couldn't take her eyes off of the man now standing in front of her. His curly brown hair flopped off to the side of his face in a perfect spiral. The brown eyes behind his glasses matched her own.
"Dad?" The logical part of her mind churned slowly, processing this impossibility. Her dad couldn't possibly be in England, let alone in Hogwarts under a bookcase. No, this wasn't happening. But her heart raced ahead of her head, and it wanted desperately to see her father again.
He stepped towards her, his head tilted in confusion. "Who are you?"
"Dad, it's me. It's Hermione, your daughter. Hermione."
"No, no, I haven't got a daughter."
"Yes, you do. It's me. I put a memory charm on you to keep you safe, but I can remove it. I can make you remember again!"
As she reached forward, her father stepped away. "Who would want to remember a daughter who would curse her own parents?"
"No," Hermione whispered, her cheeks wet with tears. As her fingers neared her father's jacket, a large freckled hand grabbed her wrist and stopped her.
Hermione jumped and tried to yank her hand out of the grasp, but Ron held tight. "Hermione, it's a boggart," he said, his voice coming from right behind her. His other arm wrapped around her waist to still her struggles.
"No… no…" She couldn't stop repeating the word as she stared at her father's stern face. She shook her head, not wanting this to be true while also wanting it more than anything. Finally, she shut her eyes, unable to look any longer. That gave Ron's words time to bring her back to reality and to step back away from the boggart.
Ron brought her behind him, stepping between her and the boggart. From behind his shoulder and gripping the back of his shirt, she watched her father pause then suddenly melt into a woman with wild black hair and hooded eyes.
For a moment, Hermione thought they must have confused the boggart. Out of the two of them, she didn't expect Ron's worst fear to be Bellatrix Lestrange, but his arm that held his wand pointed straight at the boggart wavered. After a moment though, he took a breath and lifted his arm, ready to cast the spell, when Bellatrix opened her mouth and screamed.
They both covered their ears against the shocking noise, then Ron fell to his knees as well. Hermione, who'd squeezed her eyes shut, opened them to see that Bellatrix had disappeared and instead a body lay on the floor. Blood pooled around its slit throat, reminding Hermione of Lavender until she noticed the dead girl's bushy hair. Was that…?
"What the hell?"
Hermione turned around and saw Ginny sprinting towards them, Harry following behind. She ran in front of Ron, wand out. The dead body shrunk into a small leather book that Ginny sent flying into the nearest cabinet with a flick of her wand. Harry slammed the cabinet door shut and cast a locking spell to trap the boggart inside.
Ginny whipped around and crouched in front of her brother, grabbing him by the shoulders. "Ron, are you alright?"
His skin was about five shades whiter than normal, and sweat dampened the back of his shirt. He'd dropped his wand, and Harry scooped it up from halfway across the room.
Hermione still trembled, but she touched the back of his neck with a shaky hand as she kneeled beside him. "It's okay, Ron," she said. "We're okay."
Something seemed to click inside his head as he glanced between Hermione and Ginny. He squeezed his eyes shut, took a deep breath, then opened them again, his whole body relaxing. "I… I…"
"You don't have to explain," Ginny said, her hands sliding off of his shoulders. "We all get it." She turned and transfigured the cabinet into a small, easy-to-carry box. After summoning it, she hugged the violently shaking box to her chest and looked to Harry. "Let's get rid of this."
Harry nodded, then handed Ron back his wand. He squeezed Ron's shoulder while Ginny said, "We'll be right back to help you finish off this room. Then it's lunch!" She gave a slightly forced optimistic smile before leading Harry out of the room. Hermione thought she heard Harry asking if they should really be leaving, but Ginny kept quiet as she shut the door behind them.
Ron sunk back to sit on the floor, his legs bent in front of him. His arms rested against his knees, and Hermione took his nearest hand with her own while keeping her other on his shoulder. Color returned to his face, his freckles standing out less and less as his breathing steadied again. "I was expecting a spider."
"I thought the boggart was still reacting to me," Hermione admitted.
"That was the most scared I've been in my entire life," Ron said, taking her hand in both of his. He finally looked at her again, and she saw the streak of a single tear dried on his cheek. "I thought I was too late."
Her thumb rubbed against his jawline, grazing the spot where his tear had fallen. "You weren't. You saved my life."
"It was more a group effort," Ron said with a shrug.
"No." Hermione leaned closer and grabbed the edge of his chin so he couldn't look away. "It's you I remember. Your voice calling to me and giving me something else to concentrate on. And you pulled me out from under the chandelier. And then you slept on the floor at Shell Cottage in case I had another nightmare, which I always did. That's all you, and only you."
The edge of his mouth twitched into an almost smile, and his hand fluttered out of her hold and drifted up to neck. His thumb gently traced her scar. Her breath caught in her throat, then she crushed her lips against his.
Ron responded in an instant, his fingers disappearing into her hair while his other arm grabbed her waist. Their limbs tangled for a moment as they grappled for purchase and pulled to get closer. Hermione tried to find a position to relieve her knees from digging into the hard floor, and with a frustrated growl, she threw out her caution and lifted herself into Ron's lap, her legs straddling his waist. Ron hummed in satisfaction and pressed her close.
The indecency of the situation no longer mattered. This was so much more important. Ron needed to hold her like this to be reassured that she was indeed alive and safe and would be staying that way for the foreseeable future, and she needed him too. Like this, he held her together and kept her inside her body instead of floating away.
His kisses ventured away from her lips, marking a path down her jaw to her neck. If she'd lost her breath when he'd touched her scar before, the air in her lungs was obliterated from existence when his lips kissed the front of her throat. She gripped the back of his shirt, and a whimper escaped her. The sound surprised and embarrassed her, but it only seemed to encourage Ron. His tongue darted out to suckled at the sensitive skin beneath her jaw.
The dusty classroom faded from Hermione's awareness, her mind consumed by the waves of pleasure shivering up her body with his every movement. If she could have turned into water and be absorbed by him, she would have.
A loud bell sounded through the halls, surprising Hermione enough to lose her balance and fall backwards. Ron's arms stopped her from hitting the ground, but her bum hit the ground hard. The pain of a surely bruised tailbone was more than enough to jolt Hermione out of the blissful cloud encompassing them. Her breathing still laboured, she glanced up at him through her lashes to see his grin. "I guess it's time for lunch."
She laughed, dropping her head against his chest. His chuckles rumbled against her temple, his arms still around her and giving no sign of letting go. As he rested his chin on top of her head, he said, "You were right, you know."
"What about?"
"Snogging makes it better."
Hermione didn't need to ask what the 'it' was. "For a little while, at least," she said, finally pulling away to meet his eyes again. She wanted to suggest heading back to the Great Hall, but his gaze stopped her. Her lungs forgot to work again for a different, somehow more intense reason. His hand grazed the side of her face and cupped her jaw, his eyes flickering between her own and her neck. It seemed he might be building up the courage to say something, but before he could, she broke eye contact and wiggled herself out of his arms. It definitely wasn't a graceful disentanglement as she scooted backwards and lifted her legs from around Ron's, with little help from the dazed owner of said legs. When she finally managed to get herself up off the floor and reach a hand down to help Ron, he seemed to have come back to himself and took her hand gladly. Even that small amount of contact felt like electricity, and Hermione had to strongly resist the urge to fling herself back into his arms.
"Didn't you two hear the bell?" Ginny said loudly as she marched back into the room, Harry as hesitant behind her as if he expected a Basilisk to be around the corner. Hermione snatched her hand out of Ron's grasp, the feelings it elicited indecent in front of company. "We're going to the kitchen for lunch if you want to join."
"The kitchens?" Ron asked. "Why not the Great Hall?"
"Harry's trying to avoid a standing ovation," Ginny said with a smirk.
Harry tossed her an annoyed look. "Or any sort of unnecessary disruption. Everyone could start throwing things at me too."
Ginny rolled her eyes. "You can either have a hero's complex or be ignorantly humble. You don't get both." Harry teasingly glared at her, and Ginny responded by sticking her tongue out at him before turning back to Hermione and Ron. "So, are you coming? Or should we leave you alone here for another couple of hours?"
Hermione's cheeks blazed, wondering if Ginny was simply that observant or if she and Harry had seen something before announcing their presence. "You go on to the kitchens. We'll go down to the Great Hall."
"We will?" Ron asked.
"Well, I'm not going down to the kitchens," Hermione said, her defensiveness flaring up easily. "I assume you're going to be telling Kreacher about his new home while your down there?" she asked Harry.
"Probably," Harry said with a challenging edge to his voice.
"And you haven't changed your mind?"
"Nope."
"Then I guess we'll catch up with you later."
Hermione crossed her arms, holding on to her resolve despite the uneasy shuffling going on around her. Harry kept staring even as he said, "We've got to see Professor McGonagall about the sword afterwards."
"But we'll find you again before we leave for Andromeda's," Ginny cut in with a smile that attempted to defuse the tension in the room. "Promise."
"Sounds good," Ron said, exchanging a nod with Harry that Hermione new communicated more than she could even begin to guess. They left the Muggle Studies classroom together, heading down the corridor and the grand staircase together quietly. They split in the Entrance Hall, Harry and Ginny disappearing down another corridor while the noise coming from the Great Hall stopped Hermione and Ron's progress. "Sure you don't want to just go down to the kitchens?" Ron asked.
Hermione shook her head. "No, it'll be fine." She took a deep breath and marched forward, Ron just behind her. Luckily, everyone seemed to be too distracted with their food and conversation to notice them at first. Considering how crowded the room was, half of the people in there wouldn't have been able to see them slip in if they'd been looking right at the door. A few heads turned their way as they skirted around the wall, looking for an empty space. Luna waved them over, making room at the table she sat with Dean, Seamus, Neville, and Hannah.
A ripple spread out through the crowd as they sat, but no one made a huge commotion over their presence. Conversation flowed as easily as old times between their table, sharing stories and catching up. Even when more serious or dark topics cropped up, they moved on quickly and kept things as light as possible. When they returned to the halls of Hogwarts, Hermione and Ron stayed with Dean, Seamus, and Luna while Neville returned to the greenhouses and Hannah to the Hospital Wing. The mood of the day lifted significantly as the five of them worked together, the rest of the day slipping away.
As promised, Harry and Ginny found them a couple of hours later, the Sword of Gryffindor in Harry's possession again. They lent a hand before heading off Andromeda's. Neither of them mentions Kreacher, and Hermione didn't ask, though she assumed he'd be going with them.
Another bell brought them all back to the Great Hall again for a glorious dinner that Hermione hadn't been expecting. Though, as Luna pointed out, many of the people lending a hand at Hogwarts were still in grieving over their individual losses and not having to think about meals was probably a huge blessing for many of them. Ron agreed, grateful he wouldn't have to be cooking for his family that night since he'd sort of taken over since the end of the war.
After a simple course of puddings, Professor McGonagall sent them all home, refusing to let anyone stay. They said their goodbyes and returned to the Burrow exhausted. Mr and Mrs Weasley went to bed immediately, but Hermione and Ron tried to stay up and wait for Harry and Ginny to come home. They broke out the chessboard, but about halfway through the game, Ron's pieces rioted against his poor directions and refused to play further. Hermione decided they better call it a night.
When she crawled into bed, Hermione thought her body would fall straight to sleep. Her legs were sore from standing all day, her wrist ached from all the swishing and flicking, and her tailbone still felt tender from her fall. As soon as the lights went off, though, her brain went into high alert. Every little creak made her heart skip, and the shadows from her window unsettled her nerves. She jolted upright when she heard footsteps on the staircase, the chestnut wand in her hand before she remembered that Harry and Ginny still hadn't gone to bed.
She huffed as she stared up at the ceiling, her frustration mixing with her anxiety until sleep seemed absolutely impossible. Her nightstand taunted her, reminding her that inside its drawer was the last bit of Calming Draught she'd allotted herself. Only one more swallow remained in the phial, and Hermione had been saving it for a bad night. Tonight was not going to be that night.
Hermione closed her eyes, refusing to open them again. Perhaps by her sheer force of will, sleep eventually took over. The nightmare followed soon after, the same as always. She couldn't see anything, but she heard Bellatrix's taunts and felt her curses. It wasn't an accurate memory, as Bellatrix brought up more than the Sword of Gryffindor. In the dream, she sometimes also told her the DeathEaters had kidnapped Hermione's parents or that the entire Weasley family had been murdered or even that they were holding Crookshanks hostage. On this night, though, Bellatrix threatened to bring Ron up from the cellar and let him 'join the fun'. Hermione made a sudden move in the dream, trying to find a physical space to fight against Bellatrix, but she woke with a start as she rolled off her bed.
She'd tangled herself in her blankets enough to dull her fall, but her knee stung from where it had hit the ground. The terror still gripped her, and she stayed on the ground for a while as she remember where she was and that she was safe. She shakily sat up, checked that her knee had only been bumped and wasn't bleeding, then leaned her back against the bed.
The bedroom door swung open, Harry and Ginny's faces illuminated by their lit wands. "Hermione," Harry said, rushing towards her, "what happened? Are you alright?"
"I'm fine," she grumbled, embarrassment chasing away the last bit of fear. "Just fell out of bed."
Harry helped her back to her feet while Ginny gathered the fallen blankets and tossed them back onto the bed. "You really scared us," Ginny said. "Thought a rogue DeathEater had broken in or something. Are you sure you're okay?"
"Yes, yes, everything is fine," Hermione said again as she straightened out the blankets again and tucked them in neatly. "I guess I was tossing and turning a lot. Bad dream." She muttered this last part, not looking at either Harry or Ginny.
They both nodded in understanding, and Ginny asked, "Do you want some Calming Draught?"
"I have some," Hermione said quickly, cutting Ginny off. She sighed, turning back to face them. "I'm sorry I woke you, but everything's fine. Really."
"Alright," Harry said as he started backing out of the room. "We can get Ron if you want–"
"No." She hadn't meant for the word to come out with such force, but she was desperate to be alone again and figure this out herself. "I'm fine. Go back to bed."
Harry took a few more steps back, ready to run. Ginny gave her hand a squeeze and smiled at her reassuringly. "Goodnight, then," she said before ushering Harry out of the room.
Alone in the dark again, Hermione reached for the chestnut wand and cast Lumos. She reached into the nightstand and brought out her phial of Calming Draught. Tonight didn't feel like an emergency, but they would be headed to Gringotts tomorrow morning and she still didn't have a plan to convince the goblins that they didn't need another dragon. When she'd tried to research solutions the day before, she couldn't settle her mind enough after her fight with Ron to concentrate on reading. She'd found herself worrying about all the danger he'd be putting himself in as an Auror then her thoughts would drift to Kreacher and how she could convince Harry not to give him to Andromeda. With the lack of sleep she was getting lately, her mind was too scattered to focus on one thing for too long.
This meeting tomorrow was important, and she needed to be alert for it. Her emergency stash hadn't lasted long, but she told herself it would be fine. She needed to find another solution that didn't rely on a potion. Just one more night.
She swallowed the last drops of Calming Draught, instantly feeling the tension in her body ease. Hermione tucked herself back into bed, her mind blank and at peace.
Author's Note: Happy quarantine everyone! I wasn't going to post this chapter until I'd finished the next one, but considering the state of the world, I wanted to do my part by giving you all the longest (and my favourite) chapter yet. Hope everyone is staying happy and healthy out there! I did almost reach my goal am finishing up the last scene of the next chapter (which is even longer than this one, yikes!), so look forward to that. A big chocolate-covered thank you to everyone sticking with this story :)
