Weighted Down
Chapter Four: The Old and the Young
Harry, Ron and Ginny were just getting to talking about light things, like Quidditch and girls (or boys, in Ginny's case), when Arthur Weasley's head poked into the door of the large cafeteria and spotted the boys and Ginny. He came over quickly, face serious and intent. Harry spotted him when he was halfway across the room.
"Boys," he started when he reached their table, "the doctors said they had finished, and you could go back to visit her."
Harry looked at Ron quickly, both needing no words to know their thoughts. Harry nodded, and looked at Arthur for a moment. He had become sort of a paternal figure for Harry, part of a family, as all the Weasleys were for him. Despite that, he still had trouble getting what he needed to say out.
"Er, Mr. Weasley, I actually needed to know something, preferably before we go back to Mio's room." Harry began slowly, not sure how to ask such a painful question for everyone.
Arthur nodded, seeming to know the question coming, and sat next to Ginny, across from Harry and Ron.
"Well," started Harry, not looking at anyone at the table, but instead at his bear claw that he had been eating. He took a deep breath, and plunged forward. "I want, no, I need to know what happened to Hermione."
Arthur nodded, and looked down himself. No one at the table talked, or even so much as moved for half a minute.
"Harry, I think. well, obviously you know her house was attacked by You- know-Who." Harry nodded; eyes locked with Arthur's, face solemn. "Well, early yesterday afternoon, Mr. and Mrs. Granger were at their home, along with Hermione. Evidence shows they were in the backyard, reading or talking or something." Arthur's voice shook, but he continued. "The Death Eaters attacked from all around. The trees around the house, over the fence, even from the sky, it seemed, on brooms, we think.
"The Grangers and Hermione had the chance to get inside, but they didn't hold long. Death Eaters broke in eventually, through the doors and windows, even though Hermione spelled them. There were too many for just a young girl to deal with. I know she could have Apparated out, you all got your licenses a year ago," Harry nodded, remembering well the tests and paperwork it had taken to get the early licenses for the three of them.
"She wouldn't though. She wouldn't leave her parents to die. A true Gryffindor." Harry knew this already. Hermione had proven she was sorted correctly many times before, and Harry knew she would have many more chances to prove herself. "The Death Eaters," Arthur continued, interrupting Harry's thoughts, "we think, killed Mr. Granger first."
Harry griped the table in front of him. This did not sound good.
"We believe Hermione fought against them, while they tortured her mother. Cruciatus." Arthur murmured the curse, and Harry's gaze on his bear claw went fuzzy, and he was holding the table so hard his fingers were turning white. "The evidence shows that Hermione could have been tortured, the doctors and Aurors are not sure." At this statement Ron let out a guttural growl, from deep within his chest. Harry didn't react; he simply tried to stare at his bear claw, holding for dear life to the table, as if it was a life preserver in a storm of horror.
Ginny let out a small sob, then, that drew all of their attentions. She too, seemed to be trying to burn a hole in the table with her stare, but Harry could make out tracks of tears down her face. Harry reached under the table and found her hand, squeezing reassuringly. He then nodded at Arthur to continue.
With a sigh, the older man complied. "The appearance of the attack seemed to be just murder, but with some fun on the Death Eater's part. The Ministry believes the Death Eaters had intended to kill all three victims."
"Then what happened?" Ron asked, his voice pain filled.
"Hermione fought, Ron," was the simple response from his father. "She fought with magic as well as fists, and she managed to get a few Death Eaters stunned before the Aurors arrived."
Harry ripped his head up to stare at Arthur incredulously. "She stunned some?"
Arthur nodded. "Two, and they were identified as young men, most likely new to You-know-Who's ranks." Harry nodded, knowing it would have been too good to believe if she had captured someone of great import. "But she was out before long. As soon as the officers Apparated, having gotten the signals of Dark Activity, namely the Avada Kedavra and Cruciatus, the Death Eaters Disapparated. The Aurors managed to get Hermione to, well, here, and get the Death Eaters that were stunned to Headquarters."
Harry nodded once more, both horrified and comforted by Arthur's words. Horrified, because of what Hermione, and her parents, had gone through, and would Hermione would continue to go through when she woke up; and comforted, because he knew it could have been worse. Hermione could have been violated in worse ways than Cruciatus-and Harry knew the Death Eater scum would stoop to that level-or she could have been killed outright.
But it didn't make sense, to Harry, anyway, why the Death Eaters hadn't just simply killed all three of the Grangers quickly. Unless Voldemort had wanted Harry to know his friend had suffered before she was killed. That was another thing. Usually, the Death Eaters managed to kill their victims, always before the Aurors got there. The Aurors would have had to be watching the Granger's residence before hand to have gotten wind of Dark Activity.
The Auror unit, put to the true test this past month, monitored all of Britain from their Headquarters, watching little blips on screens that were spells being cast all day. When a Dark spell was cast in the area that they were watching at that moment, and the screen switched every minute to a different location, the blips on the screen turned red, and a small bell went off in the office, but it took a few precious minutes for Dark Activity to be noticed my the monitoring magic of the screen. All of this Harry knew from his various Defense lessons at school, both the regular classes that everyone attended, and the extra training that Harry and a few others had been receiving after hours since fifth year.
But for the Aurors to have noticed Hermione's house under attack quick enough that the Death Eaters had time to only kill two, they had to have been watching the house closely. And they usually didn't observe specific areas that closely. There was simply too much of Britain to keep watch at a certain house at one time, even with the multiple screens and blips that the Auror Headquarters held. For the Aurors to notice Hermione's attack specifically, the odds that they had simply been on that screen at that particular time were very small.
All of this information processes in Harry's mind in a second, and, coming to his conclusion, he looked up to stare at Mr. Weasley.
"They knew," was all he said.
Mr. Weasley quickly looked down at his shoes.
"The Aurors knew she would get attacked at one point, and they didn't do anything!" Harry told Arthur, more than asked. He was aware that Ron, Ginny, and numerous other people in the Cafeteria were staring at him, but he didn't care at the moment.
"Harry-" Arthur began, but Harry cit him off.
"NO! They knew and they could have stopped it!" he felt a tight hand gripping his heart, and he knew he was yelling at Mr. Weasley, and he knew that it was not Mr. Weasley that was to blame, but his anger and frustration would not be contained now that he had gotten started.
Mr. Weasley's next words however, contained that rage well enough.
"She knew too, Harry," was all the older man said, before looking down with haunted eyes that were filled with the painful knowledge of a mistake.
Harry starred at the man before him that he had come to love like a father. He realized for the first time that he was standing in the middle of a silent cafeteria, with people at other tables gaping at him and his outburst. He ignored them, however, and turned back to Arthur, face ashen.
"She knew?" he asked, not wanting to believe it was true. Arthur's only response was to nod sadly.
"Wait just a moment," a voice from Harry's left called out, standing next to his friend. Harry looked at Ron for a moment, before turning back to Ron's father.
"Ron, Harry, please sit down," Arthur's weary voice got through to Harry, and he sat, not believing his ears for a moment. Ron however, looked ready to argue with his father heatedly, in public or not. Harry knew a disaster needed to be averted.
"Sit down, Ron," Harry mumbled, without looking at his friend, his voice still disbelieving. Ron looked down at Harry, ready to argue, but seemingly thought the better of it, because he sat down hard next to Harry after a second.
"Please, Dad, explain," Ron said tersely.
"She did know," he reconfirmed, "and the Aurors, when they heard the rumor that her place was the next in line as a target, went down and asked her if she wanted to be moved to a more secure location. Hermione, after talking with her parents, refused. She told them, I think, that she wouldn't be scared out, or something to that effect. She said that they could watch the house for activity, and come to catch the Death Eaters when they attacked." Arthur sighed heavily.
"They Aurors, well, you know them, always willing to make sacrifices to get the bastards. They agreed wholeheartedly. They let a sixteen year old girl take on the responsibility of bait." Arthur sounded disgusted with his own colleagues, and Harry knew he heard self-disgust in that voice somewhere.
"But, you didn't know," Harry began, trying to comfort the old man.
Arthur cut Harry off. "I did though," he said softly, looking at none of the three children around him. Harry could only stare blankly, not fully comprehending.
"What?" Ginny said, surprising them all again. "Dad-"
"I didn't know it was Hermione," Arthur cut her off, "but I did know of a family that was acting as bait. They told me it was a sure bet, they couldn't loose. I didn't know. I didn't know the circumstances, but I knew enough."
Harry, knowing Arthur was battling with guilt and self-loathing, was silent.
Ron, it seemed, however, could not help himself. "It's not your fault, Dad."
Harry knew from experience this simple sentence meant nothing to Arthur, for it had been said to Harry many times throughout his short life, and none of them had been convincing. But something that one wise man had told him had helped.
"We all make mistakes, Arthur. We can't help it; it's human nature. But guilt is a worthless feeling. It helps no one, and serves no purpose." Harry took a deep breath, and continued recklessly, trying hard to ignore the warnings his mind was shouting at him not to remember. "And, when times are really worth it, really, the ends sometimes do justify the means." He got up, ignoring the stares from Ginny and Ron-Ron in particular who knew who had spoken those words to Harry- and walked around the table to grab Arthur's shoulder reassuringly. The ministry official looked up quizzically at the young man above him.
Arthur sighed, and gave Harry a sad smile. "Times are really ruthless when the old take counsel from the young, and the young are forced to grow so old, so very quickly."
Harry was startled by his words, for just a moment, before masking his face back into a neutral expression. He nodded, emerald eyes much too intelligent, and walked away slowly, weaving through the growing crowd of people and the tables in the large cafeteria.
Arthur was left with his two children staring after Harry, both knowing how their friend must feel after digging up those words from the painful memories of their old Headmaster.
Ron was the first to collect himself, and turned to face his father. "He's right ya' know. Right too much of the bloody time if you ask me," Ron said, trying to lighten his father's heavy heart.
It worked. His dad made no movement of expression, but Ron saw the small smile in his eyes. "Language Ron, language." Arthur slowly got up from the table, under the careful eye of both Ginny and Ron. "What would your mother say?" he asked his son, before patting his arm softly, and turning out of the cafeteria in the opposite direction from Harry.
Ron and Ginny were left to stare at each other, each not fully believing what had just been told.
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Harry was just trying to process everything that Arthur had told him, and deal with the tidal wave of emotions that were brought up by that one quote, when he ran into two bulky blocks with flaming red hair. He looked up to grin weakly at Fred and George in front of him.
"Hey! Watch it, mate!" George cried in mock outrage. (Harry could tell George by the large 'G' on his Weasley sweater that he was wearing that morning)
"Yeah! Look where your goin' buddy!" Fred added, dramatically poking Harry in the chest with a finger.
Harry smiled, slapped both boys on the shoulder, and continued walking, dragging the older Weasley's with him.
"What's going on mates?" he asked jovially. "How's the infamous family business?"
Both of the twins grinned slightly. Harry was no longer the only one who knew about Fred and George's dreams of a Joke Shop, but he was still well informed. They had graduated the year before last, and had began to put it into motion, working hard as interns and lackeys for a director at Zonko's, but, like everything else in the Wizarding World these days, it hadn't fared well.
The public simply didn't have time for jokes. They were more concerned with things like surviving. But that had not curbed the two's interest in pranks and laughter. Harry knew for a fact that they had been behind many of the Ministry's more amusing pranks in the past few months, and had even helped with one or two a while ago. They had pulled a few harmless jokes on some of the Ministry Officials, using their clearance of visiting their father as a cover, and only once Harry's fame.
A few including floating balloons filled with Canary Cream, turning random workers in the Ministry of Magic into large, feathered canaries at all hours of the workday. And then there was the time when the two had bribed a bunch of Leprechauns to dance jigs all day in the offices. It seemed only a form of poetic justice that the small green men happened to choose Ludo Bagman's office to ransack in their step dance.
The Ministry chose not to officially acknowledge the pranks, and most of the workers actually got a laugh out of them, even the ones who ended up at the butt of the joke. It seemed to many to be an outlet for nervous laughter that was much needed in the world at the moment. Although, Harry knew, they had not pulled a joke in the past month. Times seemed too dire for even Fred a George to pull a prank.
Harry shook his head from these thoughts though, as Fred laughed outright, and began telling Harry intimate details of their plans for their shop, their products, and their first victims when things settled down. The three wandered through the halls of the hospital, watching as the place bustled to life in the early morning hours. Harry wondered idly where they were and if Fred or George, who were leading Harry, knew where they were going. It became obvious, however, that they had absolutely no clue, when they stumbled into a dead-end in the back of one hallway.
"Do you know where we are mate?" Fred asked Harry, looking at him out of the corner of his eye.
George cracked up as Harry glared at Fred. "Fred!" he cried, angry in only appearance. All of them knew he was only putting on the flare of dramatics for laughter's sake. "You were the one leading!"
"Correction, Mate," George said, fighting back more laughter. "I was leading. You had us confused again." Both twins grinned cheekily at the younger boy, and Harry just rolled his eyes and smiled.
"So, while George was leading," Fred started, but George cut him off.
"No, George, I'm Fred, and I was leading," the redhead looked at his twin with a glint in his eye, and they both began a familiar routine.
"No, mate, I am Fred! You must be mistaken," one boy said, throwing out his arm in a display of Shakespearian dramatics.
"Oh contraire, dear brother. I am Fred. It is you who are mistaken." Harry watched the two, his eyes traveling form one to the next as each declared themselves to be Fred diligently. Finally, he seemed to have had enough.
With a laugh and a roll of his eyes, he turned away from the two, who were still arguing. "You're both nutters," he muttered, and headed off into what he hoped was the way to get back to the Disaster Ward and Hermione.
"Wait, Harry!" both twins called after him, running to catch up. Harry didn't turn, but laughed to himself as they skidded to a stop on each side of him.
"So, Fred, and Fred, do you have any idea where we're going?" he asked innocently, and received grins from both of the redheads.
"I think we're going the wrong way to get back to Hermione's room," the Fred with the 'G' on his shirt said. Harry looked down the hall, trying to see anyone that could help them find their way. He only saw further halls and corridors.
"I believe we goin this way," the other Fred stated, and started down another corridor that was better lit than the others.
Harry and the Fred with the G on his shirt looked at each other for a moment and shrugged, then ran to catch up with Fred.
"Wait, George!" the Fred with a G on his shirt cried out to his brother and Harry exclaimed.
"Ah ha! You're the real Fred then?" Fred, or who Harry hoped was Fred, didn't stop, but he did make a face at the younger boy.
"Good going, Fred," George called from up ahead, and Harry only smiled slightly and shook his head, following after the two bickering ahead of him.
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After leaving the cafeteria, Ron and Ginny made there way back to Hermione's room, using the directions from a doctor they had seen heading down the hall.
When they arrived in front of the DW doors, they could hardly believe their eyes.
The entire room was aflurry with action. All kinds of people were standing around, some injured, some unconscious, lying down, and some simply looking terrified. There were nurses running from bed to bed, shouts from every occupied space in the hall, and everyone seemed to be tense and a sense of fear hung in the room, palpable and horrifying to the two youngest Weasleys.
Both hurried past the madness to the back room, where their friend had been a few hours before. Now the place was a menagerie. There were crying, screaming people, both doctors and nurses shouting and running around and Ron and Ginny simply stared, not sure what was going on or what they should do.
Ron finally ended their stupor by dashing out of the middle of the corridor and pulling Ginny by the elbow with him. They were narrowly missed by a gurney pulled by several doctors who blocked the view of the patient on the bed. Ron was somewhat glad for that, and turned away from all of the madness to what had been Hermione's room this morning.
Now there were four beds in the room, with at least two people surrounding the bed shouting either directions at nurses, or help from others. Ron could not find Hermione anywhere in the chaos.
That Weasley panic and anger began to stir in him, and as his ears began turning a pale shade of pink, he headed towards one of the doctors that was sitting down and didn't look busy.
"Excuse me," he said, somewhat rudely, he knew, but didn't care at the moment.
The doctor looked up startled, taking in a fuming Ron and a pale-looking Ginny behind him. "The waiting room is on the other side of the hospital. Whomever you're here for, they'll have been taken care of."
Ron noticed that the doctor looked haggard, and realized somewhat guiltily that this was probably the only break the poor bloke had had in a while. Still, he was between him and Hermione.
"No, I didn't come here with anyone. There was a girl in this room a few hours ago, I want to know where she went."
The doctor looked confused. "If she's not here now and she was before than she's been moved somewhere," the doctor told them simply, and stood from his makeshift seat of what Ron saw was a large box of hospital gloves. The man began headed for one of the tables, apparently ready to begin working again.
"Wait a minute!" Ron called, following the doctor.
"Look kid," the doctor began, annoyed, as he turned to face Ron. "Wherever your girlfriend went, I don't know. All I know is that this attack was one of the biggest, and I don't have time for your stupid games." The doctor glared at the two Weasleys for a moment before started back to a queue of nurses in the corner.
Ron glared at the doctor's back and opened his mouth to say something to Ginny next to him.
"He said 'attack'," Ginny stated, beating her brother to it. This simple sentence seemed to subdue Ron for a moment.
"Yeah, well, I still need to know where Hermione is!" Ron looked slightly panicked at his sister, and she put a calm hand on his shoulder.
"The hospital is not going to throw her down a hole Ron." She matched her brother's look glare for glare. "They just moved her. We only need to ask someone who would actually know, like one of the nurses who kicked you out this morning."
Ron looked relieved. Ginny bit back a smile at how protective her brother was of his girlfriend. Though, in retrospect, she couldn't blame him. After hearing what she had been through just a few minutes ago, Ron was probably ready to go and take on Death Eaters by himself he was so irate. Ginny also knew that he really shouldn't direct that (sometimes violent) anger on any hospital staff that was just trying to do their job.
Ginny seemed calm enough though. She led Ron through the corridor until he spotted one of the nurses who had been in Hermione's room that morning.
"Excuse me," Ginny said to the young girl politely, when she had finished with a patient with a head injury. The young nurse looked worn, but turned to face them with a smile. "I had a friend who was here this morning, in a room in back. I was wondering where she would be now," Ginny smiled at the nurse, who couldn't be any older than nineteen or twenty.
"Anyone in DW this morning was either scrunched in with all these people, or moved to Third Floor Recovery."
"Thank you so much," Ginny told the nurse. "You must be exhausted," she told the girl, who nodded vigorously, sighing. "Could you tell me what happened here?" Ginny asked, moving out of the way of a few doctors running through.
"What else, but You-Know-Who?" The nurse looked sad for a moment, but someone called her name across the hall, and she excused herself from Ginny and Ron and ran to get back to work.
Ron looked at Ginny resolutely, and made their way out of the Disaster Ward, trying not to look at the numerous patients with injuries and pain filled stares.
Chapter Four: The Old and the Young
Harry, Ron and Ginny were just getting to talking about light things, like Quidditch and girls (or boys, in Ginny's case), when Arthur Weasley's head poked into the door of the large cafeteria and spotted the boys and Ginny. He came over quickly, face serious and intent. Harry spotted him when he was halfway across the room.
"Boys," he started when he reached their table, "the doctors said they had finished, and you could go back to visit her."
Harry looked at Ron quickly, both needing no words to know their thoughts. Harry nodded, and looked at Arthur for a moment. He had become sort of a paternal figure for Harry, part of a family, as all the Weasleys were for him. Despite that, he still had trouble getting what he needed to say out.
"Er, Mr. Weasley, I actually needed to know something, preferably before we go back to Mio's room." Harry began slowly, not sure how to ask such a painful question for everyone.
Arthur nodded, seeming to know the question coming, and sat next to Ginny, across from Harry and Ron.
"Well," started Harry, not looking at anyone at the table, but instead at his bear claw that he had been eating. He took a deep breath, and plunged forward. "I want, no, I need to know what happened to Hermione."
Arthur nodded, and looked down himself. No one at the table talked, or even so much as moved for half a minute.
"Harry, I think. well, obviously you know her house was attacked by You- know-Who." Harry nodded; eyes locked with Arthur's, face solemn. "Well, early yesterday afternoon, Mr. and Mrs. Granger were at their home, along with Hermione. Evidence shows they were in the backyard, reading or talking or something." Arthur's voice shook, but he continued. "The Death Eaters attacked from all around. The trees around the house, over the fence, even from the sky, it seemed, on brooms, we think.
"The Grangers and Hermione had the chance to get inside, but they didn't hold long. Death Eaters broke in eventually, through the doors and windows, even though Hermione spelled them. There were too many for just a young girl to deal with. I know she could have Apparated out, you all got your licenses a year ago," Harry nodded, remembering well the tests and paperwork it had taken to get the early licenses for the three of them.
"She wouldn't though. She wouldn't leave her parents to die. A true Gryffindor." Harry knew this already. Hermione had proven she was sorted correctly many times before, and Harry knew she would have many more chances to prove herself. "The Death Eaters," Arthur continued, interrupting Harry's thoughts, "we think, killed Mr. Granger first."
Harry griped the table in front of him. This did not sound good.
"We believe Hermione fought against them, while they tortured her mother. Cruciatus." Arthur murmured the curse, and Harry's gaze on his bear claw went fuzzy, and he was holding the table so hard his fingers were turning white. "The evidence shows that Hermione could have been tortured, the doctors and Aurors are not sure." At this statement Ron let out a guttural growl, from deep within his chest. Harry didn't react; he simply tried to stare at his bear claw, holding for dear life to the table, as if it was a life preserver in a storm of horror.
Ginny let out a small sob, then, that drew all of their attentions. She too, seemed to be trying to burn a hole in the table with her stare, but Harry could make out tracks of tears down her face. Harry reached under the table and found her hand, squeezing reassuringly. He then nodded at Arthur to continue.
With a sigh, the older man complied. "The appearance of the attack seemed to be just murder, but with some fun on the Death Eater's part. The Ministry believes the Death Eaters had intended to kill all three victims."
"Then what happened?" Ron asked, his voice pain filled.
"Hermione fought, Ron," was the simple response from his father. "She fought with magic as well as fists, and she managed to get a few Death Eaters stunned before the Aurors arrived."
Harry ripped his head up to stare at Arthur incredulously. "She stunned some?"
Arthur nodded. "Two, and they were identified as young men, most likely new to You-know-Who's ranks." Harry nodded, knowing it would have been too good to believe if she had captured someone of great import. "But she was out before long. As soon as the officers Apparated, having gotten the signals of Dark Activity, namely the Avada Kedavra and Cruciatus, the Death Eaters Disapparated. The Aurors managed to get Hermione to, well, here, and get the Death Eaters that were stunned to Headquarters."
Harry nodded once more, both horrified and comforted by Arthur's words. Horrified, because of what Hermione, and her parents, had gone through, and would Hermione would continue to go through when she woke up; and comforted, because he knew it could have been worse. Hermione could have been violated in worse ways than Cruciatus-and Harry knew the Death Eater scum would stoop to that level-or she could have been killed outright.
But it didn't make sense, to Harry, anyway, why the Death Eaters hadn't just simply killed all three of the Grangers quickly. Unless Voldemort had wanted Harry to know his friend had suffered before she was killed. That was another thing. Usually, the Death Eaters managed to kill their victims, always before the Aurors got there. The Aurors would have had to be watching the Granger's residence before hand to have gotten wind of Dark Activity.
The Auror unit, put to the true test this past month, monitored all of Britain from their Headquarters, watching little blips on screens that were spells being cast all day. When a Dark spell was cast in the area that they were watching at that moment, and the screen switched every minute to a different location, the blips on the screen turned red, and a small bell went off in the office, but it took a few precious minutes for Dark Activity to be noticed my the monitoring magic of the screen. All of this Harry knew from his various Defense lessons at school, both the regular classes that everyone attended, and the extra training that Harry and a few others had been receiving after hours since fifth year.
But for the Aurors to have noticed Hermione's house under attack quick enough that the Death Eaters had time to only kill two, they had to have been watching the house closely. And they usually didn't observe specific areas that closely. There was simply too much of Britain to keep watch at a certain house at one time, even with the multiple screens and blips that the Auror Headquarters held. For the Aurors to notice Hermione's attack specifically, the odds that they had simply been on that screen at that particular time were very small.
All of this information processes in Harry's mind in a second, and, coming to his conclusion, he looked up to stare at Mr. Weasley.
"They knew," was all he said.
Mr. Weasley quickly looked down at his shoes.
"The Aurors knew she would get attacked at one point, and they didn't do anything!" Harry told Arthur, more than asked. He was aware that Ron, Ginny, and numerous other people in the Cafeteria were staring at him, but he didn't care at the moment.
"Harry-" Arthur began, but Harry cit him off.
"NO! They knew and they could have stopped it!" he felt a tight hand gripping his heart, and he knew he was yelling at Mr. Weasley, and he knew that it was not Mr. Weasley that was to blame, but his anger and frustration would not be contained now that he had gotten started.
Mr. Weasley's next words however, contained that rage well enough.
"She knew too, Harry," was all the older man said, before looking down with haunted eyes that were filled with the painful knowledge of a mistake.
Harry starred at the man before him that he had come to love like a father. He realized for the first time that he was standing in the middle of a silent cafeteria, with people at other tables gaping at him and his outburst. He ignored them, however, and turned back to Arthur, face ashen.
"She knew?" he asked, not wanting to believe it was true. Arthur's only response was to nod sadly.
"Wait just a moment," a voice from Harry's left called out, standing next to his friend. Harry looked at Ron for a moment, before turning back to Ron's father.
"Ron, Harry, please sit down," Arthur's weary voice got through to Harry, and he sat, not believing his ears for a moment. Ron however, looked ready to argue with his father heatedly, in public or not. Harry knew a disaster needed to be averted.
"Sit down, Ron," Harry mumbled, without looking at his friend, his voice still disbelieving. Ron looked down at Harry, ready to argue, but seemingly thought the better of it, because he sat down hard next to Harry after a second.
"Please, Dad, explain," Ron said tersely.
"She did know," he reconfirmed, "and the Aurors, when they heard the rumor that her place was the next in line as a target, went down and asked her if she wanted to be moved to a more secure location. Hermione, after talking with her parents, refused. She told them, I think, that she wouldn't be scared out, or something to that effect. She said that they could watch the house for activity, and come to catch the Death Eaters when they attacked." Arthur sighed heavily.
"They Aurors, well, you know them, always willing to make sacrifices to get the bastards. They agreed wholeheartedly. They let a sixteen year old girl take on the responsibility of bait." Arthur sounded disgusted with his own colleagues, and Harry knew he heard self-disgust in that voice somewhere.
"But, you didn't know," Harry began, trying to comfort the old man.
Arthur cut Harry off. "I did though," he said softly, looking at none of the three children around him. Harry could only stare blankly, not fully comprehending.
"What?" Ginny said, surprising them all again. "Dad-"
"I didn't know it was Hermione," Arthur cut her off, "but I did know of a family that was acting as bait. They told me it was a sure bet, they couldn't loose. I didn't know. I didn't know the circumstances, but I knew enough."
Harry, knowing Arthur was battling with guilt and self-loathing, was silent.
Ron, it seemed, however, could not help himself. "It's not your fault, Dad."
Harry knew from experience this simple sentence meant nothing to Arthur, for it had been said to Harry many times throughout his short life, and none of them had been convincing. But something that one wise man had told him had helped.
"We all make mistakes, Arthur. We can't help it; it's human nature. But guilt is a worthless feeling. It helps no one, and serves no purpose." Harry took a deep breath, and continued recklessly, trying hard to ignore the warnings his mind was shouting at him not to remember. "And, when times are really worth it, really, the ends sometimes do justify the means." He got up, ignoring the stares from Ginny and Ron-Ron in particular who knew who had spoken those words to Harry- and walked around the table to grab Arthur's shoulder reassuringly. The ministry official looked up quizzically at the young man above him.
Arthur sighed, and gave Harry a sad smile. "Times are really ruthless when the old take counsel from the young, and the young are forced to grow so old, so very quickly."
Harry was startled by his words, for just a moment, before masking his face back into a neutral expression. He nodded, emerald eyes much too intelligent, and walked away slowly, weaving through the growing crowd of people and the tables in the large cafeteria.
Arthur was left with his two children staring after Harry, both knowing how their friend must feel after digging up those words from the painful memories of their old Headmaster.
Ron was the first to collect himself, and turned to face his father. "He's right ya' know. Right too much of the bloody time if you ask me," Ron said, trying to lighten his father's heavy heart.
It worked. His dad made no movement of expression, but Ron saw the small smile in his eyes. "Language Ron, language." Arthur slowly got up from the table, under the careful eye of both Ginny and Ron. "What would your mother say?" he asked his son, before patting his arm softly, and turning out of the cafeteria in the opposite direction from Harry.
Ron and Ginny were left to stare at each other, each not fully believing what had just been told.
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Harry was just trying to process everything that Arthur had told him, and deal with the tidal wave of emotions that were brought up by that one quote, when he ran into two bulky blocks with flaming red hair. He looked up to grin weakly at Fred and George in front of him.
"Hey! Watch it, mate!" George cried in mock outrage. (Harry could tell George by the large 'G' on his Weasley sweater that he was wearing that morning)
"Yeah! Look where your goin' buddy!" Fred added, dramatically poking Harry in the chest with a finger.
Harry smiled, slapped both boys on the shoulder, and continued walking, dragging the older Weasley's with him.
"What's going on mates?" he asked jovially. "How's the infamous family business?"
Both of the twins grinned slightly. Harry was no longer the only one who knew about Fred and George's dreams of a Joke Shop, but he was still well informed. They had graduated the year before last, and had began to put it into motion, working hard as interns and lackeys for a director at Zonko's, but, like everything else in the Wizarding World these days, it hadn't fared well.
The public simply didn't have time for jokes. They were more concerned with things like surviving. But that had not curbed the two's interest in pranks and laughter. Harry knew for a fact that they had been behind many of the Ministry's more amusing pranks in the past few months, and had even helped with one or two a while ago. They had pulled a few harmless jokes on some of the Ministry Officials, using their clearance of visiting their father as a cover, and only once Harry's fame.
A few including floating balloons filled with Canary Cream, turning random workers in the Ministry of Magic into large, feathered canaries at all hours of the workday. And then there was the time when the two had bribed a bunch of Leprechauns to dance jigs all day in the offices. It seemed only a form of poetic justice that the small green men happened to choose Ludo Bagman's office to ransack in their step dance.
The Ministry chose not to officially acknowledge the pranks, and most of the workers actually got a laugh out of them, even the ones who ended up at the butt of the joke. It seemed to many to be an outlet for nervous laughter that was much needed in the world at the moment. Although, Harry knew, they had not pulled a joke in the past month. Times seemed too dire for even Fred a George to pull a prank.
Harry shook his head from these thoughts though, as Fred laughed outright, and began telling Harry intimate details of their plans for their shop, their products, and their first victims when things settled down. The three wandered through the halls of the hospital, watching as the place bustled to life in the early morning hours. Harry wondered idly where they were and if Fred or George, who were leading Harry, knew where they were going. It became obvious, however, that they had absolutely no clue, when they stumbled into a dead-end in the back of one hallway.
"Do you know where we are mate?" Fred asked Harry, looking at him out of the corner of his eye.
George cracked up as Harry glared at Fred. "Fred!" he cried, angry in only appearance. All of them knew he was only putting on the flare of dramatics for laughter's sake. "You were the one leading!"
"Correction, Mate," George said, fighting back more laughter. "I was leading. You had us confused again." Both twins grinned cheekily at the younger boy, and Harry just rolled his eyes and smiled.
"So, while George was leading," Fred started, but George cut him off.
"No, George, I'm Fred, and I was leading," the redhead looked at his twin with a glint in his eye, and they both began a familiar routine.
"No, mate, I am Fred! You must be mistaken," one boy said, throwing out his arm in a display of Shakespearian dramatics.
"Oh contraire, dear brother. I am Fred. It is you who are mistaken." Harry watched the two, his eyes traveling form one to the next as each declared themselves to be Fred diligently. Finally, he seemed to have had enough.
With a laugh and a roll of his eyes, he turned away from the two, who were still arguing. "You're both nutters," he muttered, and headed off into what he hoped was the way to get back to the Disaster Ward and Hermione.
"Wait, Harry!" both twins called after him, running to catch up. Harry didn't turn, but laughed to himself as they skidded to a stop on each side of him.
"So, Fred, and Fred, do you have any idea where we're going?" he asked innocently, and received grins from both of the redheads.
"I think we're going the wrong way to get back to Hermione's room," the Fred with the 'G' on his shirt said. Harry looked down the hall, trying to see anyone that could help them find their way. He only saw further halls and corridors.
"I believe we goin this way," the other Fred stated, and started down another corridor that was better lit than the others.
Harry and the Fred with the G on his shirt looked at each other for a moment and shrugged, then ran to catch up with Fred.
"Wait, George!" the Fred with a G on his shirt cried out to his brother and Harry exclaimed.
"Ah ha! You're the real Fred then?" Fred, or who Harry hoped was Fred, didn't stop, but he did make a face at the younger boy.
"Good going, Fred," George called from up ahead, and Harry only smiled slightly and shook his head, following after the two bickering ahead of him.
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After leaving the cafeteria, Ron and Ginny made there way back to Hermione's room, using the directions from a doctor they had seen heading down the hall.
When they arrived in front of the DW doors, they could hardly believe their eyes.
The entire room was aflurry with action. All kinds of people were standing around, some injured, some unconscious, lying down, and some simply looking terrified. There were nurses running from bed to bed, shouts from every occupied space in the hall, and everyone seemed to be tense and a sense of fear hung in the room, palpable and horrifying to the two youngest Weasleys.
Both hurried past the madness to the back room, where their friend had been a few hours before. Now the place was a menagerie. There were crying, screaming people, both doctors and nurses shouting and running around and Ron and Ginny simply stared, not sure what was going on or what they should do.
Ron finally ended their stupor by dashing out of the middle of the corridor and pulling Ginny by the elbow with him. They were narrowly missed by a gurney pulled by several doctors who blocked the view of the patient on the bed. Ron was somewhat glad for that, and turned away from all of the madness to what had been Hermione's room this morning.
Now there were four beds in the room, with at least two people surrounding the bed shouting either directions at nurses, or help from others. Ron could not find Hermione anywhere in the chaos.
That Weasley panic and anger began to stir in him, and as his ears began turning a pale shade of pink, he headed towards one of the doctors that was sitting down and didn't look busy.
"Excuse me," he said, somewhat rudely, he knew, but didn't care at the moment.
The doctor looked up startled, taking in a fuming Ron and a pale-looking Ginny behind him. "The waiting room is on the other side of the hospital. Whomever you're here for, they'll have been taken care of."
Ron noticed that the doctor looked haggard, and realized somewhat guiltily that this was probably the only break the poor bloke had had in a while. Still, he was between him and Hermione.
"No, I didn't come here with anyone. There was a girl in this room a few hours ago, I want to know where she went."
The doctor looked confused. "If she's not here now and she was before than she's been moved somewhere," the doctor told them simply, and stood from his makeshift seat of what Ron saw was a large box of hospital gloves. The man began headed for one of the tables, apparently ready to begin working again.
"Wait a minute!" Ron called, following the doctor.
"Look kid," the doctor began, annoyed, as he turned to face Ron. "Wherever your girlfriend went, I don't know. All I know is that this attack was one of the biggest, and I don't have time for your stupid games." The doctor glared at the two Weasleys for a moment before started back to a queue of nurses in the corner.
Ron glared at the doctor's back and opened his mouth to say something to Ginny next to him.
"He said 'attack'," Ginny stated, beating her brother to it. This simple sentence seemed to subdue Ron for a moment.
"Yeah, well, I still need to know where Hermione is!" Ron looked slightly panicked at his sister, and she put a calm hand on his shoulder.
"The hospital is not going to throw her down a hole Ron." She matched her brother's look glare for glare. "They just moved her. We only need to ask someone who would actually know, like one of the nurses who kicked you out this morning."
Ron looked relieved. Ginny bit back a smile at how protective her brother was of his girlfriend. Though, in retrospect, she couldn't blame him. After hearing what she had been through just a few minutes ago, Ron was probably ready to go and take on Death Eaters by himself he was so irate. Ginny also knew that he really shouldn't direct that (sometimes violent) anger on any hospital staff that was just trying to do their job.
Ginny seemed calm enough though. She led Ron through the corridor until he spotted one of the nurses who had been in Hermione's room that morning.
"Excuse me," Ginny said to the young girl politely, when she had finished with a patient with a head injury. The young nurse looked worn, but turned to face them with a smile. "I had a friend who was here this morning, in a room in back. I was wondering where she would be now," Ginny smiled at the nurse, who couldn't be any older than nineteen or twenty.
"Anyone in DW this morning was either scrunched in with all these people, or moved to Third Floor Recovery."
"Thank you so much," Ginny told the nurse. "You must be exhausted," she told the girl, who nodded vigorously, sighing. "Could you tell me what happened here?" Ginny asked, moving out of the way of a few doctors running through.
"What else, but You-Know-Who?" The nurse looked sad for a moment, but someone called her name across the hall, and she excused herself from Ginny and Ron and ran to get back to work.
Ron looked at Ginny resolutely, and made their way out of the Disaster Ward, trying not to look at the numerous patients with injuries and pain filled stares.