SEQ CHAPTER \h \r 1Title: An Inevitable Fate
Chapter Twenty Four: Brilliant Deduction, Watson!
Author: KissThis
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Rating: PG-13 - maybe later...if I feel like it.
Pairing: There's just so many people with the hots for Hermione, it's hard to tell!
Setting: 6th year in Hogwarts.
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Disclaimer: Ooh! It's getting exciting isn't it? You know, if I go back and change the characters, the setting, and the back history I could have an original story! Maybe I'll do it this summer...at least then I'd own it.
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A/N: I know I said I wasn't going to keep you guys waiting long, but…that pretty much got screwed didn't it? Sorry. I'm trying my bestest!
~o~O~o~Recap~o~O~o~
He gestured to the items clutched in the house elf's hands and Gorby relinquished them gratefully. Dumbledore stood and slid the parchment into his robe pocket before deftly removing the generic brown wrapping. From within the wrapped box, Dumbledore pulled forth a human hand -- severed halfway up the forearm.
~o~O~o~O~o~O~o~O~
"Only those who will risk going too far can possibly find out how far one can go." --T.S. Eliot
The room erupted in a crescendo of rising voices that drowned out the sound of Ron's retching. The sound of thirty people talking all at once drowned out everything; even the sobering sound of uncontrollable crying. Draco stumbled away from Ron's hunched form and the stench of his regurgitated dinner.
Dumbledore stood as still as stone; one of the few gathered who had remained silent. He held the object delicately in his hand seemingly unfazed by the grotesque delivery. However, his face was devoid of all color as he looked over the hand with dark eyes. Then he turned it so that the others could see what he had seen. An inky, black design was emblazoned on the blue-tinted skin; looking abnormally bright and glossy in contrast to its dead host. The firelight flickered against the emblem and it seemed to almost move. The room fell silent.
"The attack was against a Death Eater," He said in a mix of disgust and relief. "Not Hermione." He placed it back within its wrappings and set it down upon his desk. Then he pulled from his pocket the letter and unfolded the crumpled parchment. He read the hastily scrawled words aloud.
Deceased: Kylee Rookwood, sister of Augustus Rookwood.
Death Eater, Second Class
Working as a spy in the Department of Muggle Artifacts
Only casualty.
"Now what?!" Tonks huffed. "We have no more idea of what's going on than we did before." Dumbledore turned his face away. Draco followed his gaze and a lump formed in his throat.
A small and pitiful Ginny lay crumpled and sobbing against the office doorframe.
Ron stumbled forward wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Ginny! Get out of here!"
"What's going on...?" Ginny whispered. She sobbed and struggled to stand, but as her tears left her so did her strength. When she finally managed to assume an upright position it was only with the support of the sturdy doorframe. All eyes were on the sudden intrusion, but she cared neither for her interruption nor her appearance. Contrary to her brother's orders, when she began to move it was forward rather than backward.
"The ground shook." She whispered. "I watched the Ministry burn..."
She licked her lips. They were cracked and swollen from endless crying. She hadn't stopped since she'd heard the news. Her eyes were red and puffy, and the constant stream of tears made them blurry; she could hardly see.
Mrs. Weasley ran forward and caught her youngest before she fell and hurt herself. Soothing noises rose from the back of her throat as she comforted her daughter. "Hush, baby girl. Go back to bed darling."
"No!" Ginny shouted, startling her mother. She shoved her away and staggered towards Dumbledore. She only made it a few feet before fatigue took her and she tripped over her own feet; sprawled across the floor. She was a pitiful wreck.
"Please!" She sobbed. "I can't stand no knowing."
"You shouldn't be here, Ginny!" Mr. Weasley insisted. "We'll tell you what we can when the meeting is over."
Ginny's small fist banged the wooden floor so hard it shook, "THAT'S NOT GOOD ENOUGH!"
Her father jumped back in surprise and the room fell silent. She raised herself onto her hands and knees; tangled auburn ringlets fell over her face. "It's not and you know it." She wiped the salty trails from her cheeks and sniffed to stop her nose from running. She stood up, and looked straight at Dumbledore.
"Please, sir. She's my best friend," She begged. "I care about her – I deserve to know what's going on!"
"Don't let your mouth get ahead of you." Draco spat at her. "It's going to get you in trouble."
Dumbledore cut off Ginny's reply with a wave of his hand. "You may stay, but I must ask you to watch your tone, Miss Weasley."
Ginny dropped submissively into a seat and rubbed at her eyes that were already beginning to water again. Draco turned back to his professors but he could hear no sound coming from their moving mouths.
Hermione's smiling face appeared in his mind.
"I'm going to meet with the Ministry and then I'm off to France."
"What's in France?"
"A friend."
"If you'll excuse me -- I have an army to start."
Beauxbatons
Krum
The Ministry building
Kylee Rookwood
Draco's eyes went wide as all the little pieces clicked into place. He jumped up knocking over his chair and drawing the attention of the Order. Sirius' mouth snapped shut mid-sentence at the sudden interruption. He turned and glared.
"The lake!" Draco exclaimed. He crossed the room in three great strides and tore down the stairs two steps at a time.
"Don't just stand there!" Ginny exclaimed running for the stairs. "Let's go!"
~o~O~o~O~o~O~o~O~
Hermione had just finished changing when there was a knock on her door. Raking her hair out of her eyes with her fingers, she crossed her cabin and opened the door.
"Viktor!" She smiled. "Come in."
She stepped aside so that he could enter and closed the door once he was safely inside. As he sat down upon the edge of her bed she moved to her desk, where a steaming teapot sat – heated by a small blue flame contained in an old mason jar.
"What brings you?" She asked lifting the pot up just as it started to whistle. Methodically, she held down the kettle's lid as she poured the boiling liquid into a matching cup.
"We are nearly, at Hogywartz." He told her gruffly.
She set down the teapot and tucked her hair behind her ears. "Oh, really?" She sighed, as she conjured sugar for her tea. "I suppose they've been awfully worried about Harry and I."
"You did ze right thing." He said. "Your Dumbleydore – he is smart. He knows that any message you vould have tried to send them vould have endangered you."
Hermione smiled sadly. "I know, but still...I wish there could have been some way. Tea?"
Krum shook his head. Setting her cup in her hand, she carried it over to her bed and sat down beside Krum. He watched as she cradled her cup and lifted it to her lips to drink. His thick brows knitted and he scowled.
"Was there something else?" She asked.
"I vanted to make shure you were alvight." He murmured in his thick Bulgarian accent.
Hermione looked over at him in surprise, but he was looking down at his hands. "Thank you for worrying about me, but I'm fine really."
She was startled when he took her hand, but his touch was gentle though Hermione had seen the calluses his hands bore from countless Quidditch matches. He turned her palm upwards and lifted it closer to his face to examine it. His fingers traced the raised lines across her palm and fingers, leaving no wound un-noticed.
"Do ze still 'urt?" He asked.
Warmth was rising to Hermione's cheeks, whether due to their proximity or because of the way he was caressing her she didn't care to think about. Either way, she turned her face slightly to catch the concealing shadows of the bed's frame and to breathe in cool air.
"Not anymore." She insisted. "The slight swelling should go away in a few days, and by then I'll have several unattractive scars to show off."
He chuckled, "You are very funny, Herm-own-ninny."
He turned her hand and, as it caught the light, the yellowy purple bruises across her fingertips were visible. "You should be vesting your hands." He told her. "At least until zes bruises heal. You're only aggravating your injur-ee."
Hermione smiled, "You should know me enough by now – no injury could ever keep me from getting some work done."
She lifted her other hand up to the light and grimaced slightly at the offcoloredness of her hands, "Besides...breaking out of your own mind? – that's got to be worth some souvenirs, right?"
"Herm-own-ninny," He said solemnly, breaking the comic atmosphere of her joke. "I also vanted to know how you ver feeling after zis morning."
Hermione's hand dropped back into her lap. She didn't meet his gaze. Instead, she chose to fixate her attention on the books stacked up against her desk. "I've never killed a person before." She whispered.
She began to recite the book titles in her head, trying, if only for a little while, to keep herself from losing control of her emotions.
Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them
The Monster Book of Monsters
"I mean, I know now that Hope killed those two Death Eaters; Harry told me, but I've never murdered anyone when I've been in control of my own body."
Dreadful Denizens of the Deep
Olde and Forgotten Bewitchments and Charmes
"I don't feel like myself anymore – there's no way I can go back to what I was before I took that woman's life, don't you see?"
"She vas going to kill you furst, Herm-own-ninny." Krum said, "It was 'kill or be killed' as you say it."
"But that doesn't make it right!" Hermione exclaimed. "Who am I to say that her life is over because she threatened mine?"
Where There's A Wand, There's A Way
Magical Drafts and Potions
"Ve must all do vant ve can to survive – it iz vhat makes us human."
Hermione jumped up and shouted at him, "Then maybe I don't want to be human!"
He said nothing. He looked up at her with understanding eyes, and waited for her to pull herself together. He did not rise to her verbal aggression.
"Then again," She whispered. "I'm not really human, am I? Not with this thing inside of me..."
Finally he spoke. "I know vat your going through is hard to cope vith, I understand. But it vill not be the last life lost in zis war. Zis feeling you have...it vill fade."
Hermione turned back to her books; there were no more left to recite, and without the distraction her mind made way for her heart and the tears began to fall down her cheeks. "No it won't." She whispered through tear-slicked lips. The spines of the books blurred in her vision and she didn't bother blinking the tears from her eyes.
"I'll never forget her face..." She laughed; a morose and pitiful sound. "...she didn't know what was happening, but she was scared all the same. She looked up at me...with that terrified face – begging to know what was going to happen to her – and I...I just walked away." She shook her head. "I will never forget her face."
She closed her eyes. "And until the day I die – I'll hear her...screaming."
~o~O~o~O~o~O~o~O~
It was certainly an odd procession if anyone happened to see it – several dozen wizards and witches, renowned in their own separate ways, chasing after several teenagers wearing nothing more than their various bed attires.
Ginny caught up with Draco as he flung open the entrance doors and they ran, side by side, out onto the starlit grounds.
"What is it, Draco?" The chilly September night air made her breath come in puffs of fog.
"Trust me." He skidded to a stop on the dew-covered water bank, and stared anxiously out across the lake. "It's the 25th – she's coming back."
~o~O~o~O~o~O~o~O~
Seamus sighed, and though he was not tired he reached up reflexively to rub at his eyes. Setting his quill down up his comforter he lifted up the topmost parchment and held it close to the light. The wet ink glistened under the artificial illumination.
His eyes followed the sweeping lines of his creation. Up the flowing gown, down one arm and up the other; finally resting on an angelic face framed by gossamer wings. The drawing of his sister seemed to move under his gaze, and her smiling face looked straight up at him.
He blew lightly on the ink to dry it. As he started to roll the picture up, his eyes fell onto the parchment beneath it. It was the paper he had been doodling on before the explosion to the south.
Hermione's laughing face looked up at him.
~o~O~o~O~o~O~o~O~
"Mister Malfoy—" Dumbledore puffed slightly as he regained his breath.
"Don't you get it?" Draco asked excitedly. "Everything's been one big puzzle – we just didn't think to put the pieces together. First, they never arrived at the Ministry. That's because Hermione went straight to Beauxbaton's. Then, Beauxbaton's and Durmstrang emptied. But they weren't fleeing -- they were joining up with Hermione."
He pointed out across the lake, "And then Kylee Rookwood was murdered." He turned his finger on Dumbledore. "Her hand was tinted blue, which only occurs when a person's body is exposed to the cold – like water or ice."
"Postvorta!" Ginny exclaimed.
"Postvorta," Draco repeated. "And the nymph is never far from Hermione's side. Hermione and Harry both grew up with muggles and, since neither of them are able to kill another human being, they knew a muggle bomb would be the perfect solution. Rookwood was the only one in the Department at the time of the attack and Hermione set up the shielding charm to keep the blast from reaching the innocents."
"But the lake?" McGonagall puffed.
"The lake." Draco repeated.
Screeching filled the air. Draco turned back to the lake to find a tiny merchild bobbing above the surface. It's tangled aquamarine hair clung to it's translucent face and its screams came out in great gusts of foggy breath as it repeated the same jumbled words over and over again.
"What's it saying?" Amos asked.
Dumbledore turned and looked at Draco with a calculation gaze. He took off his half-moon spectacles and methodically cleaned the lenses with the heavy sleeve of his bath robe. He cleared his throat and looked up at the Head Boy once again.
Draco smirked. Dumbledore knew.
The Headmaster smiled and the twinkle was back in his wizened blue eyes as he repeated the merchild's screeches in words the company would understand.
"They come. They come."
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