Chapter Six:
Solas by Jamie Duffy
December 25th, 1999
Fleur is already in the kitchen when Hermione wakes. She looks pale, her lithe fingers gripping the counter top as she steadies herself.
"Oh! 'Ermione, I did not expect anyone to be up zis early." Caught off guard, she looks panicked, her blue eyes wide and searching. Even in her discomfort, she still manages to look beautiful.
Hermione is about to speak when Bill comes back in through the front door. His unnerved face does nothing but rile Fleur's already panicked demeanour.
She swiftly excuses herself from the kitchen.
The rest of the Weasley's are up within the hour and Molly ropes Ginny into helping cook breakfast. Hermione hides out in the living room next to the Christmas tree and the mountains of presents, expertly hidden the day before.
Harry joins her with Neville as they share a comforting silence while all hell breaks loose in the rest of the house.
Angelina and Ginny's voices can be heard coming from the kitchen. The sound of multiple pots and pans clanging and being used fade into the living room. The faint murmurs of George and Charlie tell that Ginny expertly manipulated her brothers into helping out. Meanwhile, Percy awkwardly stands with Bill as Audrey and Fleur chat, sitting on chairs like respectable women in their house coats.
She's thankful for the silence she shares with her friends so she can observe and let her mind drift. She wants to talk to Harry about seeing Malfoy in muggle London but doesn't want to alarm Neville.
He's been spending more and more time at Hogwarts, shadowing Professor Sprout and the last thing she wants is to worry him.
"You look tired, Neville," she says instead and he looks at her for a moment.
"Charlie snores worse than a dragon," he whispers and Harry chuckles.
"Alright children! Everything's ready! To the table, to the table!" Molly announces loudly. Everyone files into the tent, sitting in the same seats as the night prior. Hermione is glad to be next to Neville and Harry, relieved that she can easily avoid Ron's pointed stare from where she is seated.
She notices Bill fussing over Fleur out of the corner of her eye, unable to get the thought of her gripping the counter out of her mind.
The spread this morning reminds Hermione of breakfast at Hogwarts. She finds it comforting, the little slice of normalcy she's been craving.
She helps herself quietly, watching as Neville and Harry do the same. She pours herself some coffee from a carafe when Bill suddenly stands.
"I can't wait any longer, Fleur and I have news." A hush falls over the entire table, all eyes land on Fleur. She hesitates before grabbing Bill's hand as she stands. Her gaze falls to Molly and Arthur, together at the head of the table.
"I am pregnant," Fleur says with a smile and Molly claps her hands over her mouth, tears already streaming from her face. Arthur is standing in seconds, pulling Bill into a hug and squeezing him tightly.
"I'm gonna be an uncle," Ron whispers. Hermione dares a glance at him, only to have him already looking at her and Harry.
This news doesn't put her mind at ease. Hermione thinks about the hopefulness of bringing a child into this post-war world. She notices that Fleur's previously panicked expression from this morning has melted into contentment.
Hermione wonders if she will ever dare to hope again.
Everyone stays around the table long after the food is gone. Molly is ecstatic with the news from Bill and Fleur, she's already giving advice on what to expect. There's no doubt Fleur will be well taken care of.
Later in the morning, presents are passed around and everyone is opening them all at once, shouting appreciation to one another.
Someone has bought Arthur a little rubber duck to add to his collection and he's positively overjoyed. Everyone seems to be riding the high of a new addition to the family.
Hermione receives a new stack of books, another pair of slippers and a new, fashionable house coat. Ginny comes up behind her, kissing her cheek and handing her a small present.
"It's actually for Crookshanks, we can let him unwrap it later." Hermione smiles, pulling her in for a hug.
"I'm glad mum's moved on from the jumpers, the slippers are a little more versatile," Ginny says, picking up one of the books and turning it over to read the synopsis on the back.
"I have a gift for the whole family, I hope you don't have plans tomorrow…" Ron is standing as everyone falls silent. "The Cannons are playing Yorkshire tomorrow and you're all coming to watch." Angelina cracks a little smile. Hermione ponders if that smile was in anticipation of seeing the Cannons lose.
After breakfast, Molly shoos everyone away while her and Arthur clean up.
Hermione, overwhelmed with everything that's happened, bundles up and goes for a walk in the orchard. She's been out there for a while when she catches a glimpse of Harry, sitting amongst the trees.
"Can I join you?" she asks and he gives a nod.
"How are you doing?" He levels her, his eyes intense and it takes her off guard.
"I'm tired. A little overwhelmed with everyone here…" She settles into the grass, it's cold but not cold enough to care. "I wanted to tell you the other day but there was so much going on…I saw Malfoy in muggle London."
Harry's brows knit together and his hand rakes through his hair. Pushing his glasses up his nose, he's clearly in thought.
"Malfoy in London? Doing what?" He sounds confused, like that would be the last place for him to be. He's not wrong. Purebloods amongst muggles isn't unheard of, but it's very rare.
"He was crossing a busy high street, it looked like he was shopping." The image of Malfoy in his smart wool coat and those cold grey eyes waiting for the light to change floods her mind.
"I don't like the sound of that…" Harry says distantly and Hermione is pulled from her calm.
"What do you mean?"
"I told you about the raid at Blaise's estate, right?" She nods as Harry continues. "I have a bad feeling about it. I think Malfoy might be involved. He must be hiding something."
"How is Malfoy hiding something? I just saw him in London, he could be out for a stroll."
"I don't know," he pauses for a moment, collecting his thoughts, "it just feels—"
"Unnatural?"
"Yeah, like why is he there? What could a pureblood wizard possibly be doing in muggle London?"
Hermione puts her head on Harry's shoulder. He's still piecing things together, she can almost hear the gears turning in his head when he turns to her suddenly.
"Did Ron just get you a ticket to his match tomorrow? Is that all he bought you for Christmas?" His question catches her off guard. She thinks for a moment before nodding.
"Things with Ron have been…" It's her turn to pause, looking for the words, "Strained lately, he's been busy with practice and I've been busy with work but I still feel…" She rubs her hands on her face for a moment, as if she can just pull the words directly from her brain.
"Kind of like a friend and not his girlfriend?" Harry finishes for her and she looks to him. He's not wrong, lately she's been feeling neglected.
"How do you do it?"
"Do what?"
"Manage work and Ginny and the stupid paparzzi." She throws her hands up in a frustrated way and Harry gives a hoarse laugh.
"Work might actually kill me, Ginny makes it all worth it though. You know she got us all tickets to the New Year's Ball right? Did she tell you that yet?" Hermione pales.
"No! Harry, did you just ruin my Christmas present!" She gives a laugh smacking his arm playfully.
Out of the corner of her eye she can see Ron coming up the aisle between the trees.
"Didn't expect both of you to be out here." His tone is sour and it catches her off guard.
"I was looking for a quiet spot and found Harry out here," she says in confusion, Ron looks perturbed. Like he's upset she's spending time alone with Harry.
They head back to the warmth of the house and for the rest of the day Ron seems to hover around her. She's infuriated by it but tries not to let it show.
"Did Harry tell you about the New Year's tickets?" Ginny asks while they're lounging in the living room together. Crookshanks is curled up on Hermione's lap, she pets him absently, scratching behind his ears.
"He did, yes," Hermione answers with a bit of a laugh and Ginny rolls her eyes.
"Of course he did, I was going to surprise you! The four of us are going. I was thinking we could go shopping again? I don't own anything fancy enough for a ball being held in a mansion," Ginny goes on, talking about what she could wear.
"Whose mansion is it being held in?" Hermione interrupts.
"I'm not actually sure, they're sending the location via owl the day of."
Odd, but she isn't worried about it. All of her focus is getting through the next few days.
She didn't like the way that Harry looked at her when she told him about Malfoy in London. Part of her thinks she should have defended him more, he wasn't doing anything wrong.
Hermione makes a note to keep an eye out for anything else suspicious.
Her and Ginny spend the rest of the afternoon chatting with Angelina. They plan where they're going to go shopping for their gala dresses and it makes Hermione feel almost normal, almost like she can let her guard down.
Arthur prattles on to anyone who will listen about the Muggle phenomena of Y2K and the destruction of the world as they know it. On and on about how all the technology will just stop at the stroke of midnight. Out of the corner of her eye she can see Audrey sitting next to Percy, her eyes wide with horror.
Ron kisses her goodbye before he leaves for Yorkshire. She wishes him luck and George makes a snarky remark about how even if the entire team took liquid luck they would still lose.
Hermione is reminded of her summer spent with the Weasley's before fourth year when she wakes. The smell of breakfast wafting into Ginny's open door, the sound of pots being scrubbed by unmanned brushes and the chime of the clock as people move around.
Most of the house is already awake and in the living room by the time she and Ginny emerge in matching Chudley Cannon scarves.
"Let's hope Gweong doesn't get too pissed about this…" Ginny mutters fiddling with the orange fringe.
The stadium is already packed by the time they arrive, the whole family is ushered into a box in the centre of the pitch, right across from the announcers. Hermione is sandwiched between Ginny and Harry.
As soon as the match begins the two of them are up and screaming. She forgets how much Quidditch is a part of their lives, a part of her life.
In school, she had always just tagged along because it was something to do other than sit in the library and study. She was regularly made fun of for bringing a book to matches and was often caught reading instead of watching.
She enjoys that Ron is a keeper, it means she doesn't have to constantly crane her neck to see where he is. Seeing him in his element, with thousands of fans screaming, it makes her realise he's thriving off of this.
The attention, the validation.
She watches him track the ball, laser focused and catches Angelina making a snarky remark about how he's gotten better since the last time she saw him play. Angelina is being truthful. Honestly, Hermione can't remember the last time she saw Ron play, it must have been when they were still at Hogwarts. Usually, she avoided Quidditch like the plague.
By the time the match ends, the Cannons have lost to no one's surprise. Ginny is horse from cheering Ron on and Harry is making fun of her relentlessly.
The sound of his laughter is infectious and it causes her to smile.
An attendant appears, ushering them down to the dressing room and Molly is beaming. She's clapping her hands together in excitement as they're led down the stairs and into the bowels of the pitch.
Hermione weasels her way to the front of the crowd, setting herself up right next to Molly when they turn a corner and are met with dozens of cameras and reporters. She steps back into Charlie who grabs hold of her shoulders firmly keeping her steady.
There's a wall of people shouting, vying for their attention and Hermione closes her eyes against the flashes.
The attendant shouts over the noise, attempting to push through when Percy steps aside.
"Excuse me! We're trying to see our brother. Please step aside and we will think about talking to the papers." No one dares to challenge him, his harsh gaze causing the reporters to part. He motions for Hermione to go in first and she takes her chance, escaping through the hallway and into the door marked Cannons.
The dressing room smells like sweat and leather. It's small, with benches lining the walls and little cubbies for everyone's things. When she enters everyone falls silent, their previously animated conversations coming to an abrupt halt.
One of the players, clearly still quite young, starts to say something but is stopped by another.
"I didn't think you'd actually come." Ron's voice is the first to break the silence and it takes an immense amount of self control for her not to take offence to his statement.
"Why wouldn't I come? You invited me." She quirks her brow.
"But did you want to come?" She's surprised at Ron's question, her mouth opening to say something. Molly gives an excited shout from the doorway and Hermione steps aside to let her through. She bounds across the dressing room and pulls Ron into a sturdy hug.
Hermione takes this chance to stand in the shadows, letting them have their moment before giving up and retreating back into the hallway.
"That's the problem with big families. You always kind of feel stretched thin," Ginny offers, coming up to her and placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. She knew it would be like this, when they moved from friends to dating. It would be difficult to navigate and find time for each other.
Her and Ginny wait off to the side as the rest of the family dissipates, going back to the Burrow.
When Ron comes out of the dressing room he looks exhausted, pulling her into a hug. He whispers an apology into the top of her hair, smoothing her unruly curls.
He smells of fresh laundry and Irish Spring. She takes in the scent, burying her face into his shoulder for a moment, closing her eyes. His hands grip her tightly and her anger, her frustration from earlier melt. She feels like she can accept his apology, like his quickness from moments ago can be forgiven.
There's a flash before someone says something. "Hermione! Ron! What do you have to tell The Prophet about the loss today."
"Not now please," she says firmly, pulling away from Ron to level the reporter with a glare.
"Come on, not even a sound bite?" His quick-quotes quill twitches over his shoulder in anticipation and Hermione furrows her brows, squaring herself up.
"I said not now–" Ron cuts her off.
"The loss was to be expected. There are a few new players on the team and we haven't found our groove yet. The manager is working hard with the coaches to figure out which lines work the best and how we should play strategically. Unfortunately this was Hermione's first game she's seen since I've made the team, but there will be others…" His voice trails in her mind as the sound of her name on his lips make her whole body wretch.
Ron finishes his statement before expertly leading Hermione away.
"Is this how it's going to be now?" she whispers, careful to make sure others don't hear.
"I really don't mind the papers."
"What? Since when?"
"I dunno, I've had to talk to them quite a bit lately and I honestly don't mind." He gives a nonchalant shrug and there's a needling deep in her stomach. It seems her days of avoiding the spotlight are numbered.
She will be expected to give a statement every time they ask, she will need to avoid certain areas lest she be bombarded. Everything in her life is calculated and numbered so she can enjoy it.
The thought sends a bolt of anguish through her, but before she can think anything else, Ron apparates them back to the Burrow.
They land with a pop in the middle of the drive as Molly shouts profanities at a crowd of people with cameras.
"This is my home, how dare you take photographs of my home on Christmas!" she bellows, waving her arms. Ron lets go of Hermione, leaving her side and rushing to his mother's aid as the crowd continuously snap his picture.
These people aren't reporters, they're simply nosey folks who want a picture of the Golden Trio enjoying life after the war.
"Excuse me! Why are you here?!" Ron puts his balled fists on his hips, his stocky frame seems menacing in the overcast grey day. "Ten Galleons for any more photos!" he bellows, levelling them all with a glare.
A flash goes off and Hermione loses her cool. With a flick of her hand she has her wand out and shatters the camera.
The crowd gasps, stepping back and Ron turns to look at her. She can't tell the emotion on his face as Molly rushes to her side, ushering her up the driveway and into the house.
"Violence will never be the answer but Merlin I bet that felt good," she mutters, matronly arm holding onto her firmly. Hermione's whole body is shaking, the anger rising in her body as the two push past everyone.
Her hands shake uncontrollably now as Molly whisks her up the stairs and into the bathroom. She's holding onto her shoulders firmly and Hermione is afraid that if she lets go she will collapse. She's so angry, so mad that these people are breaching her privacy and her ability to live a normal life.
Molly is pulling her into a hug and the silence downstairs is deafening as everyone is clearly trying to hear what's going on.
They must be panicking, terrified at what set her off. What could ever set off level headed, calculating Hermione.
"It's alright dear, it's alright." She's crying now, her shoulders shaking as Molly strokes her hair.
"I just want to live in peace…I just want to live in peace…" is all she says over and over again between the sobs that wrack her whole body.
"Some people aren't built for fame and there's nothing wrong with that…some are the foundation of greatness and there's nothing wrong with that…" Molly says, continuing to stroke her hair.
