Hello all!
Here is a chapter, posted Friday, July 4, at 1:10 AM in the morning. Ouch. I'm in LA for my flight to France... which is in 11 hours. AHHH! And then I arrive and then I find out my IB scores and then I find out my room mate. And I see family I haven't seen in years and my lovely cousin Gwen . SG who has some wonderful stories here. :)
So. The rating of this story has officially changed to M. Things will be happening soon.
AND PART THREE IS STARTING. WHOO!
On with it!
Part Three
Chapter 33
Drained and tired, Hermione left the Dursley house. This time she ghosted through the rooms, no longer much concerned with the furnishings or the pictures. Her eyes were red and she couldn't see very well, but she managed to leave the house and Apparate from the back garden. She landed in an alley by the train station and checked her watch. Three turns would do it- that was at least as long as she had spent talking to Harry. In fact, three and a quarter would be even better.
One quick trip through time later, Hermione was back with the others, joining the end of their little group without attracting much attention. It took Moody a moment to notice her; the amusement on her face as he jumped was clearly not amusing to him.
"Might want to warn a man, lass," he said grumpily. "Potter's safe?"
"For the next three hours at least," she replied promptly. "But we should get a guard on the house as soon as possible." She kept her voice down, even though Ron, Ginny, Neville, and Luna were talking ahead of them.
Remus nodded, his face tight. "The schedule was already set up. Mund-" He stopped at the look on Hermione's face.
"The schedule I made did not have Mundungus Fletcher within thirty meters of Harry," she said, voice low and seriously irritated. "Who changed it?"
Cedric was watching her, green eyes confused. "You made the schedule?" he asked, surprised.
"Keep yer voice down, Diggory. Dumbledore changed them," Moody growled. "Stop fussing, Granger. Tonks is out for a week more and he needed someone to cover. He moved things around a bit."
Me, stop fussing? Hermione thought grumpily. He makes me arrange it all and when I have it to my exacting preferences he buggers it all up. Mistrustful old goat. And Fletcher is the most unreliable bastard I have ever met in my life.
It was the easiest decision to drop Neville off first. The Order had thought to inform Mrs. Longbottom that her son would get an escort home and she was exceedingly pleased to receive them all for tea. Tall and proud in her vulture hat, she welcomed them into the Longbottom Family Manor as regally as any queen. When their eyes met, Augusta Longbottom gave Hermione a slight nod of acknowledgment. Startled, Hermione returned the nod solemnly.
It was while drinking the lovely tea that Augusta, who had insisted that Hermione sit next to her, leaned in and spoke so only Hermione could hear.
"I'm not sure if I should box your ears for taking the opportunity to kill Bellatrix from me and my grandson or if I should thank you for making her last moments a misery," she murmured. "Because I am gracious and you are a sharp young thing, it will be the latter."
Hermione smiled genuinely. "It was my pleasure," she said in a voice just as quiet. "The world needed her no longer."
The Longbottom matriarch nodded wisely. "You did your duty well, for a child of sixteen. Or..." her voice trailed off and her eyes focused on the gold chain that dipped into Hermione's shirt. "For however old you are."
They were drawn into the conversation of the others, laughing and enjoying tea time. Hermione joined in, even though her thoughts were elsewhere.
This woman approved of what she had done, of a person she had killed. Hermione had tried to put it from her mind as much as possible, but it was very true that Bellatrix Lestrange was dead and Hermione Granger was the witch who had killed her. Severus had said that the news would travel fast, but he hadn't said how fast. She wasn't sure she liked people knowing, reaping hatred from one side and approval from the other and fearful admiration from both.
Leaving Longbottom Manor for the Rookery and then the Burrow eased Hermione's mind. Xenophilius Lovegood was always a sight, and the Lovegood home was charming, if strange. They didn't stay as they had at Neville's home, only stopping long enough to warn Xeno about the Death Eaters who would likely be out for his daughter and the proper security precautions they should put in place.
That he was sure his home was protected by a grove of Snarglepuff trees didn't sit well with Hermione.
"We'll have an Order patrol round here twice weekly," she murmured to Moody. "Just to check up on them."
The grizzled Auror nodded. "Aye."
Molly and Arthur Weasley were overjoyed to see their kids. Fred and George were lounging in the sitting room, leaping to their feet with a synchronization that still amazed Hermione. Bill and Charlie were home too, Bill with his arm around a beautiful girl.
Hermione grinned widely at Fleur Delacour, giving the French woman a large hug after exchanging the customary kisses on the cheek.
"Nozzing in French," she ordered Hermione. "I am 'ere to practice my English, 'Ermione."
"Very well," Hermione said, laughing. "And I'm assuming Bill is your loyal tutor?"
The handsome curse-breaker winked at Hermione. "Ron is always saying you are the smart one," he said happily. "Fleur's my fiancee."
Of course, Molly Weasley was only too insistent that they all needed feeding. Hermione wouldn't turn down a home cooked meal- and Molly's food was good. Although... the Weasley matriarch's manipulations were only too evident. Hermione and Ron were seated together at one end with Bill and Charlie, and through an insistence that the "Triwizard champions must want to catch up," Fleur and Cedric were placed on the far side of the table.
Bill shook his head, but gave into his mother. "She means well," he muttered to Hermione. "She doesn't like Fleur."
"I can tell," Hermione murmured back. "Why? She's smart and talented. She's got a good head on those shoulders- she's not just a pretty face."
"I know that, but she doesn't," he said quietly. "Mum thinks she is just a pretty face and I'm going to get my heart broken."
Hermione harrumphed. "We'll see about that. You proposed, didn't you?"
"And she said yes," Bill said with a wide grin. "I'm the happiest man in the world, with a girl like that on my arm."
Dinner was a loud, happy affair, but Hermione was quiet, letting the sound flow around her. She would be heading to Safe House Three when this was done, to stay there until Harry was released from Number Four. She would attend Order Meetings, organize paper work, and maybe work with Severus. She would train, study, read... but beyond the routine given, her summer stretched before her uncertainly.
As soon as they verified the safety of Number 12 Grimmauld Place they would go there. The only people who knew the secret were Order members, and they would just renew the charm on the house. After all the trouble they had gone through to clean it, there was no sense in just letting it sit. There was the question of Kreacher- Severus had mentioned something about the house elf going mad at the news of Bellatrix's death. Apparently, Dumbledore had asked the Hogwarts kitchen elves to nurse him to health, so they could find out what exactly had happened with him and Sirius.
So... that would probably mean two weeks at Safe House Three, and then the rest of the summer at Grimmauld Place. Or the Burrow. Hermione wasn't sure she'd like to stay in the Burrow- as always, it was too bright, too noisy. Even here, surrounded by friends, she felt too crowded. She missed the quiet dinners that she took alone in her rooms, or the occasional supper that she took with Severus.
Severus. Just thinking his name made her want to smile and giggle and put a hand over the warmth that blossomed in her belly and chest. Gods, how had she fallen for him like this? He was a sardonic, unapologetic bastard yet she felt like swooning just thinking about large noses and large hands and -
"Well, Hermione has something on her mind," drawled Bill. He gave her a wicked grin. "Don't look so shocked. You're one of us now, you get ribbing just the same as Ginny."
Oh, that' s right. They've been 'ribbing' Ginny over Dean Thomas and Michael Corner for the last ten minutes. "Last time I checked I wasn't ginger," she said primly. "You're not allowed."
Ginny rolled her eyes. "It isn't like you'll get anywhere anyway," she said, still cross over her brother's jokes. "For Hermione, the idea of a hot date is a trip to the library to hook up with the latest Potions theories."
Hermione flushed, annoyance and irritation building up. I know more about love and snogging than she does, she thought, glaring in the girl's direction. Severus actually knows what he's doing when it comes to kissing.
"Look at her, turning bright red," crowed Ron. "It's alright, 'Mione. Snogging's not for everyone-"
"-And we wish our dear sister was more like you," interjected Fred.
"Although we doubt she-" George continued.
"-Or you-" added Fred.
"-Appreciate the sentiment," they chorused.
"I don't!" Ginny snapped. "I like fun, thank you very much. I'm sure you would just love it if I were a prude or a bookworm!"
They had drawn the attention of the other side of the table. Fleur covered her mouth with a hand, stifling her small laugh. Cedric was frowning. "That wasn't kind-" he started to say, but Hermione was already rising from the table.
Dinner's been finished for a good while anyway, she reasoned. And I have better things to do than sit around here and "chat" until Molly insists that I stay.
"I'd best be off," she said, directing her gaze to Arthur and Molly. "It's getting late and I don't want to be going through it all in the dark."
Knowing about the illusion, they nodded, although Mrs. Weasley looked loathe to let Hermione leave. "Do take some pudding with you, dear," she said.
"No, thank you," Hermione said hastily, leaving her napkin on her seat and ignoring Molly's hurt look. "It's fine. I've got plenty to carry anyway."
She was edging toward the door, hoping to leave before the woman could stand and hug her. To her surprise, Cedric was standing too and saying goodbye to Fleur. "What are you doing?" she asked, perhaps a bit sharper than she should have.
Ever kind, he grinned. "You're supposed to show me to the Safe House," he explained. "The Headmaster-"
"Said nothing, as usual," Hermione said with a sigh. "Sorry. If you want to stay longer I can come back later."
Cedric shook his head, which made a lock of golden hair fall onto his brow. "No, of course not. It was a lovely meal, Mrs. Weasley."
She left as Cedric made his round of goodbyes, slipping out of the door and standing on the stoop in the cool summer air. It shouldn't have been this cold- her thoughts slipped to the day she and Severus had Obliviated her parents. He had told her that the cold was an atmospheric spell wrought by the Dark Lord.
His arm had been so sure that day, his presence so comforting. She had really been falling for him even then. There was never anyone else, Hermione mused. Krum, maybe, but not for long. As soon as I grew up and opened my eyes... there he was.
These were the kinds of times Hermione almost wished she smoked, when she could have the comforting red tip of a cigarette and the warmth of smoke filling her chest as she felt empty and alone outside of the quiet roar of family and happiness and goodness. She didn't fit with them- there was something infernally different, something that didn't quite fit, something inside of her that wasn't inside of them. Crookshanks mewed from his basket, but she still couldn't smile.
It was times like these when she couldn't forget that she had killed people.
Ron had never faced down Death Eaters in a dark alley and decided to kill them.
Ginny had never sent a woman's heart through her chest and out the other side.
Fred and George had never buried bones in the sand dunes.
None of them knew the smell of salt sea and fear and relief, the rush of power that surges when life leaves someone's body, the tugging at the soul.
Light shone from all of them. The Weasleys and the glow of their hair and their pale skin and their smiles. Firm in knowing that they were the lightest of the light, known to all as being the pureblood family with the strongest ties to the Light. Fleur as well had a beauty that shone and beckoned, a sense of purpose. She seemed endlessly good, although most of that allure was her Veela powers. And Cedric- Cedric Diggory, handsome and earnest, Triward Champion and all around good fellow.
The door opened, and the young man who she had just been considering stepped onto the stoop, ducking the low door. He was tall, with golden hair tinged with red and a healthy light in his face. He was strong, with broad shoulders and a slim waist. Objectively, Hermione could definitely see why Cho had been all over him.
"Are you ready to go?" she asked, regarding him with curious eyes. Why was he here? Why was he working for the Order?
He smiled and nodded. It seems like he never stops smiling, Hermione thought, completely aware that the voice in her head was full of snark and sounded like a certain Potions Master. "Yes. Side-Along?"
Hermione offered her hand, grasping his tight when he took it. "Hold on," she ordered, turning on her heel. The two of them were forced through a metal tube, compressed, shaped, flattened, and spat out.
The landing was hard, but that was because it was extremely difficult to Apparate through an illusion. Cedric let go, leaning forward and bending his knees. Hermione stood impassively.
"It takes getting used to," she said quietly. "Take a moment and breathe before we go through."
Taking a moment herself, Hermione looked at the illusion, warring feelings pulling themselves apart in her chest. Here was the garden, with its neat stone path, its flowerbeds, and honeysuckle on the trellises just starting to come into their full bloom. Beauty was everywhere. It winked in the idyllic stream that trickled at the far end of the garden and into the forest. The honeysuckle was heavy in the hair, and there were hints of bread that had never baked woven in with the scents of flowers that had never really bloomed.
It almost physically hurt that this beauty was an illusion. Dumbledore had created it, years and years ago. Probably before she was ever born. The forest in the distance didn't exist, the brook and its tinkling song was false, the flowers were tricks of air and magic. The cottage, with its charmingly thatched roof and firm stone sides, was just magic. Everything was magic.
She wondered what this place really looked like. Was it a field? A clearing in a real forest? Or inside a dank building someplace? In the long summers that stretched twice as long, she had passed through this place over a hundred times, and never stopped to wonder before.
For all her wondering, she didn't actually want to know. The beauty hid the lie. So it was in life, and so it was in magic.
But... for all he had done, if he was capable of imaging such beauty, Albus Dumbledore could not be as wrong as he sometimes acted. Perhaps there was a good heart somewhere inside of him, a heart that could create a place with such love.
"Are you ready?" she asked Cedric, crossing her arms across her chest. He looked like he belonged here, like some kind of Prince Charming. It irritated her.
He was looking around with amazement. "Yeah. This is the Safe House?"
"No," Hermione snapped. "It's only an illusion. We need to go through it to reach the real Safe House. This is to deter those who might actually find a way to Apparate in. They would be trapped in the illusion. There are a series of guards that will stop us before we actually reach the Safe House.
She walked up the path, and Cedric followed behind her. Upon reaching the door of the cottage, she rapped the pattern with the quickness of habit. How many times had she passed back and forth between Safe House Three and Grimmauld Place?
"Pass phrase," a light woman's voice commanded.
"The ashes are bare, the phoenix rises," Hermione said quickly. "Hermione Granger and Cedric Diggory for Safe House Three."
The door swung open and Hermione and Cedric passed into the cottage proper. Hestia Jones had been the one to answer, and she returned to sit at the table. "Hello," she said kindly. "Go right through."
Hermione grinned at the woman. "Nice to see you, Hestia." She checked her watch. "Are you going home now?"
"Yes," Hestia replied. "I'll set up the guardian before I go."
Cedric rubbed the back of his neck, taking in the cozy interior of the cottage. "The guardian?"
Hermione nodded. "It would be ridiculous to have someone here all the time. When someone important is coming, we station a real person. If the Safe House isn't expecting someone, we set up the guardian. It's just a guard spell- it demands the pass phrase. If it is correct, the door swings open. If it is wrong, then... The guardian attacks and sends a warning to the Order."
"Oh," said Cedric. "How do we get to the Safe House?"
Hermione walked over the wardrobe, stroking the worn wood. "The wardrobe. Goodnight, Hestia." She swung open the door, feeling in the back for the magical doorknob. It sprang open to her touch and she passed through, Cedric right behind her.
The portrait room was bare and chill after the warmth of the illusion on a summer's night. The portrait of the old man, walrus mustache and red smoking jacket the same as they had been years ago, smiled at Hermione.
"Good to see you again," he said warmly. "Albus said to let you right through. The boy too." The door swung open, and they finally passed through to the real house.
They emerged in the sitting room, where the fire blazed and crackled in the fireplace. "That would be the work of the house elves," Hermione said to Cedric, moving toward the fire. The air was chilly despite the flame. "Dobby? Minny?"
When she called their names, the two elves appeared in front of her. "Missy Miney is home!"
Hermione grinned. "I am," she said happily, shoving aside the thought that she had no idea where home was but that it wasn't at this Safe House. "This is Cedric. Where is he going to be sleeping?"
"In Miss Tonks' old room," said Dobby. "If Miss and Sir would give Dobby and Minny their trunks?"
Both teenagers dug in their pockets, pulling out the shrunken luggage. "Thanks," Cedric said. "Is there a lavatory somewhere?"
Hermione pointed at it, then followed Minny to her room. It was just as she had left it- perfect. Curling up on the bed, she fell asleep without even taking her clothes off.
Severus sneered at the portrait and crossed into the Safe House, letting the door close harder than, perhaps, he should have. The sound startled the young man reading in a chair by the fire.
In an instant his wand was out and pointed at the man- even once he recognized the Hufflepuff, Severus didn't lower his wand.
Cedric was caught unawares, wand in his pocket. Severus' sneer deepened. "Hands up, Diggory," he snapped. "What are you doing here?"
For all that he had been a Hufflepuff, the boy was brave. "Death Eaters!" he bellowed. "Hermione-"
With a flick his wand Severus silenced him. "I said to explain why you were here, Diggory," he said scathingly. "Not to call and wake Miss Granger."
A sleepy and tousled Miss Granger walked down the stairs, hand trailing on the railing. "Too late, Severus. And don't be cruel to the poor boy. He didn't know and you startled him. If you had told me you were coming, I could have warned him. Or you."
Cedric's head turned between Hermione and Severus. His mouth moved, but no sound emerged. Hermione sighed and yawned. "Severus," she said, a warning in her voice.
With a swift movement, Severus released the spell and sheathed his wand. "He works for the Order," Hermione explained quickly as Cedric stood, book forgotten. "He's a Death Eater but he's a member of the Order too."
She wandered over to Severus, keeping her face carefully composed. "I know. Dumbledore said nothing this morning. He nearly gave me a heart attack when I saw him on the train this afternoon." She tilted her head, flicking her eyes at Cedric. Oblivate him?
No. Severus' answer was clear with the brief shake of his head.
Cedric was shaking his head as well. "Wait. One moment. So, not only is Hermione Granger- a fifth year- apparently a high ranking member of the Order, but so is Professor Snape?"
Hermione patted his arm. "Let's have some tea, why don't we?" she suggested. "And we can explain a bit. Why don't you go into the kitchen and start the kettle?"
If he had been about to protest, one look at Severus quieted Cedric. He left for the kitchen.
"It wasn't nice to scare him like that," Hermione chastened, voice soft and just the tiniest bit teasing. She moved closer to Severus and poked him in the chest with a finger. "Big meanie."
Severus gave her something that could have been a small smile. He caught her finger and took her hand, bringing it up to his lips. "I only wanted to see you," he said, voice just as soft. There was a teasing lilt that was persuasion wrapped in possessiveness. "I had no idea someone else was staying here with you."
"And you thought I could use some company?" Hermione asked, caressing his face. The touch of his lips to the soft skin on the back of her hand had made her belly clench. "I revise my opinion. How sweet."
Hermione stood on her tiptoes, reaching to press a quick kiss to his lips, safe in the knowledge that the sounds in the kitchen were caused by Cedric keeping busy. "I haven't seen you for hours."
"Far too long," he agreed. Although his tone was amiable, his eyes were hot upon her face. "But. We have a small problem to deal with. How much can we tell him? Is he even a member of the Outer Circle?"
Hermione rubbed the back of her neck. "He's been inducted, that I know. I cleared his file a month ago- but I thought he was still in Switzerland. I had no idea he was going to be back in England. We can Oblivate him, if you want."
Severus snorted. "Now he'll have to be made a member of the Inner Circle. He knows too much. If we Oblivated him, Dumbledore would get upset."
In the midst of her nod, Hermione yawned again. "I suppose," she said, arching her back to stretch. She was well aware of the eyes moving to her neck and then to her torso. She straightened quickly, a flush of awkward embarrassment heating her spine. She was unused to this level of blatant desire in his gaze. "I'm bone tired."
"I'm not surprised," Severus said, putting a hand on her chin and tilting her face up to examine her features. "You still haven't fully recovered and you over-extended yourself today."
She put a hand on his wrist, wrinkling her nose at him. "I'll be getting myself back to bed once we've taken care of Mr. Diggory," she said, stroking the skin of his wrist. "You can help if you want."
His eyebrows about disappeared into his hairline. "We- I mean-"
"I was kidding," Hermione said, giggling. "I'm not sure what you had in mind, but I was thinking of you carrying me up those cursed stairs."
"Tea's ready," Cedric called.
"Perfect," Hermione said to Severus. "Let's go."
They walked to the kitchen, Severus holding the door open for her. She let him- if he wanted to be old-fashioned, she didn't mind. The mugs were on the table; Cedric was looking through the cupboards with a small frown on his face. "Where's the sugar?" he asked.
Hermione went to the cupboard closest to her and removed the sugar, putting it on the table and going to the coldbox for milk. "Thank you for the tea," she said, putting a dash of milk into one cup and handing it to Severus. "Do you take milk?" she asked.
"No," Cedric said, sitting down and reaching for the sugar. "Alright. Some explanations?"
Hermione smiled blithely. "You should have been told my position when you were inducted into the Lower Circle," she said. "First of all, what do you know?"
The boy took a comforting sip of tea. "That you protect Harry Potter. Someone whispered something about a Time-Turner, but those are illegal."
Hermione's hand went to the pearl at her throat, her fingers brushing against the chain that held the hidden Time-Turner in the process. "Of course." The corners of Severus' mouth tightened, his version of laugh in the present company. "Yes. That is the gist of it. Harry gets into trouble, I get him out of it. You saw a prime example during the last task."
Cedric looked between them. "That's it?" he asked cautiously.
"No," Severus said shortly. "But that's all you need to know. Trust her, listen to her, treat her orders as you would treat orders from Minerva McGonagall or Headmaster Dumbledore. Do not treat her as you would any other schoolgirl." Hermione shot him a look, which Severus promptly ignored. "And remember- if she had not taken your place that night, you would have died."
Hermione felt her cheeks burn. "Was that really necessary, Severus?" she muttered under her breath.
"Yes," he said shortly, dark eyes fixed on Cedric, measuring his worth. "If he's going to be here with you, he needs to know to respect you properly."
"That's very well and good," Hermione said, struggling to keep her voice calm, "but that doesn't resolve our problem. Can you speak to Albus in the morning?"
Severus heaved a great sigh. "Of course."
"The next meeting of the Inner Circle will take place the day after tomorrow," Hermione informed Cedric. "I'll explain a bit more before then."
Cedric nodded, looking a bit dazed. They were all quiet for a moment, Severus and Hermione watching the boy expectantly. Wonder when he'll realize that we're waiting for him to excuse himself, Hermione though wryly.
When it seemed like he wouldn't get the message, Severus stood, letting the chair make an angry scraping sound. "I'll give my report in the practice room, then," he snapped.
Hermione stood as well, making far less noise. "I'll run up and grab what I need," she said calmly. "Goodnight, Cedric."
When she and Severus were situated in the practice room, he was fairly glowering. Hermione sighed and sat cross-legged on the floor waiting for him. "What is it?" she asked kindly.
"I don't like him," Severus answered shortly. "I taught him in class and he's-"
"Bright and well-respected and a talented Transfiguration student," Hermione answered, trying to keep her smile from her face. "I like Cedric. He's new to all of this but he will be a valuable addition to the Order. He's dedicated to the side of light, and, as you just let him know, he owes me his life. He's going to try to repay that debt. And he respects Harry. Other people respect him and when they see that he respects Harry, that will add to Harry's credibility."
Severus frowned. "Glad to know you like him so much," he snarked. "Doesn't hurt that he's the definition of a pretty boy." He was rigid, leaning against the wall with far too much tension in his body.
Hermione laughed outright. He's jealous! "He's not my type," she said through giggles. "I like them taller. And older. And... darker. He's a golden boy. Too innocent. I might break him if I'm not careful." She stood, leaving her notebook and pens on the floor so she could stop craning her neck to see Severus' face.
"Oh?" he drawled, raising an eyebrow. "Sometimes I feel like you might break me if I'm not careful enough." His arms were crossed over his chest; Hermione mirrored his posture.
"Strange," she said, meeting his eyes. "I feel like it's the other way around."
His arms came down, one hand reaching for her face with only a hint of awkwardness. His hand caressed the side of her face, fingers trailing to her neck. "I would never hurt you," he said, vulnerable and serious. "I'm... clumsy with matters of the heart, but I know that-"
"Clumsy or no, I don't really care, as long as you're you," Hermione told him, moving closer so she could press against him. "Severus Snape... you are more than enough for me. I don't think anyone else could quite complete me in the way that you do. Happy?"
His eyes were dark as he lowered his head to kiss her. "Very."
Morning came to find Hermione in her bed, sleeping in for the first time in months. She had stayed up late with Severus the night before- they had eventually gotten around to her taking of his report and discussing the events of the Ministry. The two of them had gotten a reaming from Dumbledore in the morning that followed the debacle, and they had no desire to repeat the experience in front of the Inner Circle.
When she finally did wake, Hermione luxuriated in her bed, stretching and yawning with sleepy happiness. The slight twinges of pain from old injuries was only slight and the sun was bright outside the curtains. She could swim, sit down and read a book without countless interruptions for the first time in months, and just generally spend a day in peace and quiet.
There was only the slight problem of Cedric Diggory... but hopefully he'd avoid her after the events of the night before. Even so, Hermione made sure to pull on a robe before leaving her room, belting it tightly around her waist. She didn't want anyone she was barely on a first name basis with seeing her in the old shorts and tank top that were her pajamas.
Ambling down the stairs and into the kitchen, Hermione started the coffee maker with the quickness of habit, puttering around to make her own breakfast as drip by drop, the coffee brewed.
When she had first lived in the Safe House, at the tender age of thirteen, the elves had insisted on cooking. She had slowly wrested breakfast away from them by waking at odd times and ignoring whatever was on the table. Some feelings were hurt, but she ended up getting her way without earning the animosity of the house elves.
Before long Hermione was sitting at the breakfast table, heavy book propped against a carafe of orange juice and toast and coffee in hand. Vaguely she noted Cedric wandering in, glancing at her, and awkwardly shuffling through the cupboards again. She put up with it for a few minutes before sighing and looking up from her tome.
"What are you looking for?" she asked, raising her eyebrows.
Cedric didn't flush, but he did give off a general air of self-effacement. "Cereal. Or breakfast something that doesn't involve cooking."
Hermione sighed. "Do you want the house elves to make you something?"
"I can't cook," the man explained. "Lollie- my old house elf- would never let me in the kitchen except to watch and taste test. But I wouldn't want to bother them."
"They would love it," Hermione told him, returning to her book. "Dobby..." she waited until she heard a pop. "Cedric would like something to eat, if you aren't busy." She stood, smiled absentmindedly at the elf, and, holding her coffee in one hand and toast in the other, wandered into the next room, the book floating in front of her.
Cedric frowned after her. "Did I bother her?" he asked the elf.
"Yous mustn't worry about it," Dobby told him seriously, wiping his hands on a small frilly apron that he was wearing. "Missy is bothered by everything before her coffee has been filled two times."
Hermione frowned at the files spread out on her desk. This doesn't make much sense... she thought, tapping a pen against her lips.
Her bedroom in the Safe House doubled as her office, making life easy when she had work to do late at night- her bed was in the corner, ready for her to tumble into. The desk was dark wood, outfitted with many cubbies and compartments for the tools of her trade.
Currently, however, a number of parchments on the subject of one Cedric R. Diggory were obscuring the wood and occupying the mind of the woman who was perusing them.
"His family has traditionally hovered on the edge of light and dark," she murmured, thinking aloud. "Never affiliated directly. Father well placed at the Ministry, mother is a housewife who also manages the family's affairs. The affairs include their many investments in foreign trade with the rest of Europe, including many exports to Switzerland... which explains why he was able to get that apprenticeship. Additionally, Master Futherlund was an old... friend... of Mrs. Diggory nee Selwyn. The Diggorys are distant relations of most of the purebloods."
So they're well placed in society, and mummy dearest found a very socially acceptable way for Cedric to escape the war and get a world class education at the same time. So why come back? There is no reason to return at the height of the growing war. He was safe, his parents could have been planning on taking an extended vacation, and they're balanced just so that if the Dark Lord should win they would be fine. Cedric is exactly what every pureblood family dreams of- connections, wealth, but distantly related so that the bride and groom will be fifth or sixth cousins instead of second or third.
Hermione sighed and shoved the papers away, tangling her fingers in her hair and tugging lightly. It reminded her of Severus, that motion, and she found that she was doing it more and more often as her frustration grew.
Well, there was only one way to make some progress in sorting out this confusing little mystery, and that was to ask Cedric himself.
Before she left her room, Hermione tapped her watch to leave Severus a message, should something go wrong. Going to ask C pointed questions now. Will check back in when finished.
If anything were to go wrong, he, at least, would know where she had been and who she had been talking to.
"Sit," Hermione ordered in the guise of polite concern. She focused on pouring the tea gracefully, the wisps of steam bringing a small smile to her face.
Cedric looked a bit hesitant, but he did as she asked and accepted the tea as she handed it to him. It was to his taste- she had noted his preferences and used them. Hermione wanted the boy off balance, and it served her well to confuse him thus.
"Now, I just had a few questions," she said brightly, holding her own delicate tea cup lightly. "Before tomorrow's meeting."
He looked awkward, charmingly so. Looking at him objectively, Hermione could see very clearly how Cho and half the girls at Hogwarts could have fallen for him. Smart, charming, rich... and handsome. "The screening process Professor Snape was talking about?"
She smiled at him, not letting the emotion reach her eyes. "That one exactly. My first question. What houses were your parents in?"
Cedric sat back, rubbing at the back of his neck. "My dad was a Hufflepuff like me," he said slowly. "And my Mum didn't go to Hogwarts."
"And where did she go?" Hermione asked, making down notes in the small journal that had appeared in her lap. "Beauxbatons or Durmstrang?"
"Beauxbatons," answered Cedric. "They don't have houses there."
Hermione nodded. "I'm aware," she said. I'll be calling upon Hagrid and Olympe, then, I suppose. "And where was your apprenticeship?"
"In a small Wizarding village- West Housen. The Charms Master was something of a recluse," explained Cedric. "I didn't have very much contact with the outside world. Which was, you know, very conducive to learning."
"So why leave?" Hermione asked bluntly. "A lovely charms apprenticeship your mother undoubtedly used her many connections to snag for you... why give that up to join a war?"
Many emotions flashed on Cedric's face- anger, shock, guilt. Hermione read each of them calmly, although she didn't try to penetrate his mind using Occlumency. She had more than a suspicion that his mother had taught him something of the mind arts.
When he didn't answer, she smiled thinly. "Certainly not for Miss Cho Chang... she's over you, now, if you haven't heard. If you were here for her, it wouldn't be for long. And you've passed my initial security check, which means that if you are a spy you are a very good one."
He was flushing, red flooding into his cheeks. "I'm not a spy!" he said in a voice just shy of a shout.
Hermione put down her tea cup and regarded him with cool eyes. "So what are you?" She waited a moment longer. "Guilty? Reckless? Hungering for glory? Because if glory is what you are seeking, this is not the war to find it in. This is war, Cedric, and it is going to get very bloody very quickly. Your mother did not want you here for this. You should go back to Switzerland. If you still want to help, the Order can-"
"I am guilty," Cedric interrupted. His eyes were haunted, almost envious as they stared into her own as if he was trying to look into her soul. "What kind of person do you think I am, that you think I could be unaffected by what happened after the Triwizard Tournament?"
Hermione frowned- that hadn't occurred to her. "What do you mean by that?"
"I'm seconds away from winning the Triwizard Tournament when you show up out of nowhere," Cedric said, breathing hard. His cheekbones were still colored, although his voice was calmer. "You push me away from the Cup and then you and Potter are gone- gone, with no explanation!" Cedric stood, pacing nervously about in the small tea room. "Then as soon as I'm out of the maze, Professor Snape is in my face demanding to know where you have gone- believe me, so much more makes sense now- and then everything is crazy and people are running around like Krups with rabies and my parents are fussing over me and then you come back."
Hermione's frown deepened as she thought back to that night, to that awful Portkey trip back to Hogwarts with her back torn in two. "I don't remember much of it," she said slowly. "Coming back. The memory is a bit hazy."
"I wouldn't doubt it," Cedric said seriously. "You and Potter both- covered in blood. So much blood everywhere."
They were both quiet for a few more moments, remembering. Hermione's own memories were not as hazy as she had claimed- there were a few things that she remembered with sickening clarity. The pain, for one. Harry's face, for another.
And Severus' arms, scooping her up, her dazed wonder at his strength, and then Fawkes and the warm flash of phoenix travel. The Hospital Wing's antiseptic smell and the white starchiness of sheets, then nothing for a long while.
Had she seen Cedric's face in the crowd? She hadn't been concerned for him, then. All she had worried about was carrying Harry from that awful graveyard alive. Getting him back to Hogwarts, alive. Her one task, back then. Back before her life had filled with notes and meetings and files and reports and managing the Order and helping Severus with they spy network and all the little tasks that ate into her time now...
Cedric was continuing- she brought her attention back to him. "All I could think about was what would have happened if it had been me who had taken the cup and not you and Harry. If I had gotten to it first."
Still half lost in her own thoughts, Hermione didn't give her answering words as much thought as she should have. "You would have died," she said. He didn't look as much stricken as accepting. "Or not," she hastened to amend. "Crouch- the Death Eater who was impersonating Moody- was patrolling to make sure that Harry would be the one to get the cup. No one else had any chance. If by some chance you had managed to get it before him, you would have been dead minutes later. They wanted Harry for a very specific purpose, and if things hadn't played out the way he would have wanted, they would have cut their losses and found a way to get Harry later. You would have just been... spare parts. Death and killing is nothing to the Dark Lord."
Cedric sat down, picking up his tea cup again. "Well. That confirms something I had been thinking for a long time."
"But that doesn't answer my question of why you would leave your apprenticeship. Guilt? Over not dying?" To her surprise, he nodded. "That's ridiculous," she said bluntly. "Not dying is something to feel good about, not something to risk your life over again. Just say thank you and get back to Switzerland."
Cedric was glaring at her. "I can't," he said huffily. "And this is my way of saying thank you. I want to do something meaningful for the war effort- for the Order. If the Order hadn't been there I would have died."
"It wasn't the Order," Hermione snapped. "It was Severus gathering intelligence and me protecting our only hope against Voldemort. This war isn't going to be won by hopeful volunteers who nobly sacrifice their careers for a short period of time, then get together every five years after the war is done to exchange heroic stories. It's going to be dark, Cedric. Dark and dangerous, and hopeless at times. He is more powerful than you can even imagine. He has magical power, he has financial power, and he has infiltrated the Ministry at the highest levels. He has people in places all over the UK, all over the world. In a matter of months he will be poised to take over the magical government of England. In a year, he could have control over the Muggle government as well. And he's not going to stop at England. This green isle of ours isn't the only thing he's after."
"I understand that," argued Cedric. "I-"
"I don't think you do," Hermione interrupted, perfectly serious. "I don't think you realize that this is going to come down to maybe three spells between a boy and a Dark Lord, and whoever happens to come out on top is who wins. It is hopeless, Cedric. There are only two possibilities and the one outcome we want is dependent on a boy who needs me nagging him to study for his O.W.L.'s."
Hermione had no way to realize that her voice was taking on the smooth and dangerous lilts that Severus so often employed, that her eyes had taken a dark and penetrating cast that was currently pinning Cedric to his chair.
"I still want to help," Cedric said, a bit fainter than before. "I want to fight him."
Hermione leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes, rubbing at the bridge of her nose. "Very well, then. We'll induct you into the Inner Circle tomorrow. I hope I've done something to impress upon you the seriousness of the decision you've just made."
"If we're so bad off, why are you doing this?" Cedric said, still glaring. "Why are you trying to discourage me?"
Hermione opened her eyes and lifted one eyebrow. Cedric's mouth snapped shut. "I'm trying to do you a favor," she said sharply. "When I got into this, I had no idea what it was going to be or what our meager odds of winning were. I wasn't even finished with my second year of Hogwarts, Cedric Diggory, and only one person made any attempt to warn me of what I was agreeing to. I'd be damned if I don't try to save someone else a fraction of what I have endured—and I don't have the worst of it. You have a choice. We could Oblivate you and send you back to Switzerland and it would all be hunky-dory for you."
With that, she stood. "The meeting will be conducted at the Burrow tomorrow night. You might think that you recall how to get there on your own, but if you search your memory you will find that you've mysteriously forgotten. I will meet you in the portrait room at a quarter past six."
Hermione didn't look behind her as she left.
And so ends Chapter 33.
I hoped you enjoyed that little surprise. I saved Diggory for a reason, ya know. ;)
I have officially planned out where this story is going to go! I should have done it a long time ago, but know I have a plan which is making writing easier. Whoops. Yeah. Forgive me, I'm not even an adult yet.
Excerpt:
"This is what happens if I lose control," he said breathlessly. "Explosions aren't so much fun now, are they?"
A laugh that was half air left her throat. "I think I'm quite fond of explosions too," Hermione said, grinning. "Were you expecting this to scare me?"
Next chapter will come up July 18 if everything goes according to plan. I'll put it up on my tumblr. :)
Reviews are lovely! Last chapter didn't have as many as I usually get. Thanks for reading, as always!