Author Notes: Bet you guys never thought I was going to update again. I am sorry about the delay but I did move in August and it has been quite the struggle to get all my ducks in a row as far as my life is concerned. The following two chapters are easily the most difficult ones that I've had to write. We're talking some severe writer's block here.
Hermione had hoped that the tradition of hateful bridesmaids dresses was one found only in muggle culture.
She was wrong.
The robe was lime green, form fitting, and had such extreme bouts of fluffy, blue lace that Hermione was afraid that Hagrid might try to adopt her as a new pet. She certainly looked inhuman. But then, the robes seemed to be going over quite well with Ginny's other bridesmaids. Pavarti and Padma Patil were preening cheerfully in the full-length mirrors in the special back parlor of Madame Malkin's shop. Orla Quirke and Eleanor Branstone could hardly contain their excited giggles. While Ginny, queen of the party, sat regally in a high-backed chair with a pleased smile on her face.
"Aren't they perfect?" She asked. "Don't you love them?"
"Yes!" Was the almost unanimous squeal.
Hermione managed a strained smile. This was for Ginny and it was only one day, after all, Hermione could handle the bad-joke of a robe. Although all her friends would be there and there was no way that Fred and George would ever let her live it down. Not to mention the ribbing that her flat-mates would give her.
"Oh no," Hermione groaned.
"Dress too tight?" Pavarti asked with a too-nice smile. "We just had our fittings a few days ago, you couldn't have gained weight?"
Hermione gritted her teeth and repeated the mantra that had been playing in her mind for the last couple of months, 'for Ginny, for Ginny', and forced a smile. "Nothing that serious, Pavarti, but I'm glad that you're so concerned. I've just remembered that Ron and Harry are going to meet me here any minute."
Hermione pulled out her wand and impatiently magicked open the pearly, green buttons that ran down her back. Ginny's smile disappeared.
"You don't want them to see the robe?" There was a tremulous tone to her voice.
"Oh no, Ginny, the robes are-" Hermione tried to think of something positive to say, "They are really green and lacey."
The almost-wedded Ginny was a far more emotional creature than the Ginny that Hermione was good friends with and great tears started to form in the redhead's eyes. Orla and Eleanor both cooed like a pair of misbegotten doves before descending on the bride-to-be. Pavarti and Padma sent identically scolding glares at Hermione.
"No, Ginny, please don't cry." Hermione swallowed her morals, "I really like them. I just don't want to ruin the surprise for Harry and Ron." She came forward and took Ginny's hands in her own ignoring Orla and Eleanor. "You made a very good choice, Ginny, everyone loves them."
Ginny sniffed, "You're just saying that-"
"Oh no," Hermione lied quickly, "No, they are really, really swell."
Ginny threw her arms around the older girl and hugged her tightly. A sea of red hair blinded Hermione's vision as she was knocked a step backwards. It was the first time that Hermione realized that Ginny had lost weight. The girl was frail.
"Ginny," Hermione whispered, "Are you all right?"
Ginny nodded into her shoulder. "This is all just-" Her voice broke, "harder than I thought it would be."
Hermione squeezed her friend despite the crinkling sound of too-firm lace wrinkling. "Ginny, if you don't want to get married-"
"Not get married?" Orla overheard.
"Hermione, what are you telling her?" Padma demanded angrily, her dark hair shaking angrily around her face.
"It's fine," Ginny withdrew from Hermione, "Of course I'm getting married. Seamus is wonderful. He's everything that I want." She glanced back at Hermione and said in a bit lower voice, "Really; he is."
Hermione, feeling oddly defeated, nodded. There wasn't any good rationale for why she would want Ginny to not get married. But for some reason, there was a feeling that kept hoping that something, anything would happen to postpone the wedding. She slipped the robe off her shoulders before handing it to the shop attendant that was waiting on them. Ginny, Padma, Pavarti, Orla, and Eleanor were all standing together with bright faces and wide smiles.
Hermione felt very old and very alone.
But Harry and Ron had just arrived. Hermione pulled her favorite blue robe over her head and attempted to smooth her wild hair back into a ponytail. She waved at Ginny and the other girls, they hardly noticed, before she left the back parlor and greeted her friends.
Ron was rifling through a rack of robes emblazoned with the Canons' insignia. His red hair was to a length that his mother almost found improper. A pair of young witches were flirting not so subtlety with him from a rack away. The tiniest hint of a blush colored his cheeks but he was also grinning cockily.
Hermione tutted from behind him, he was so engrossed that he hadn't seen her coming, "Too young for you, Ron."
"How do you know?"
Hermione nodded at the robes in the girls' hands. "They are buying robes for Hogwarts."
Ron frowned at that. Granted, he and Hermione weren't all that far from their seventh year at Hogwarts but Hermione wasn't the only one feeling old that morning. "All right, let's go. Harry is waiting for us across the street at Floreans'."
Hermione fell into step with Ron as they left Madame Malkin's. The road was thick with all sorts of wizards enjoying the summer heat. It would soon be over.
"Is he still avoiding Ginny, then?" Hermione asked even though she knew the answer.
Ron shrugged, his sister always being a sticky subject for him. "Ginny getting married was a bit of a shock to all of us, wasn't it?"
Hermione made a face but didn't reply.
Ron nodded, "That's what I thought."
He casually held onto her elbow as they crossed the street. Hermione looked at him but didn't think it worth the argument that would ensue if she tried to explain that she did not, in fact, need help crossing the street. As Ron got older, a strangely chivalrous side had starting showing itself.
They headed towards Harry, who was sitting at an outside table enjoying a
large pumpkin and banana sundae in what must have been his oldest pair of jeans.
"So how is it, anyway?" Ron asked her as he pulled out a wrought-iron chair at Harry's table.
"How is what?" Hermione asked as she dropped her backpack, she would
never carry a purse, into an unoccupied seat before sitting herself.
"The robe," Harry said between bites, "How is the bridesmaid robe?"
Hermione flushed, how did Harry and Ron always know to ask the
questions that she least wanted to answer. "It is real nice." She tried to lie.
"That bad, is it?" Ron asked, "Well, Ginny never did have the best taste."
Harry pushed the rest of his sundae towards Hermione. "I remember a few years ago she gave me this jumper for my birthday. It was puce with black stripes. I hadn't even known that they made clothes that color."
Ron waved at Florean to get the older man's attention. "I remember that jumper, you wore it to a Canon's game. Didn't we bump into Professor Nettles there?"
Hermione swirled the spoon around the almost empty bowl. That Quidditch game had been one of the last times that Harry and Ginny had been happy, together.
"That was a good day." Harry mused aloud.
On some level, Hermione was certain that Harry had always expected to be with Ginny again. He was taking her upcoming nuptials harder than Hermione had expected. Harry had been doing a lot of reminiscing since Hermione had broken the news about Ginny and Seamus.
"The robes are really awful." Hermione groaned suddenly, "I don't know what she is thinking. But then, everyone else seems to like them, maybe it is just me?"
Ron was going to reply but an owl landed roughly on their table. Hermione was so startled that she knocked the ice cream bowl to the ground. The owl was dark brown and wearing the official Ministry insignia on it's left wing. It stood regally in a pool of melted ice cream while it waited for Harry to take the letter.
"We're needed at the office." Harry told them as he read the message. "Something has happened, they need everyone."
"I have a bad feeling about this." Hermione told them, as they got ready to apparate away. She felt a gnawing apprehension.
It was very bad.
When they reached the Auroring office it seemed deserted. The rows of cubicles were empty. Papers were scattered on the floor and a self-refilling coffee pot was pouring over the edge of the table that it sat upon. No one had bothered to turn it off.
"Hullo?" Ron called.
"Where is everyone?" Hermione whispered on edge.
There was a soft pop behind them.
"Misters Potter and Weasley! The Granger Miss too. Oh good." A high-pitched voice squeaked out immediately following the noise.
Dotty, the liberated house elf employed by their office, stood behind them in her spotless coveralls. She was twisting tiny hands together in agitation.
"What's happened," Harry asked stepping towards her. "Where is everyone?"
"Very bad, oh very bad Mister Potter." Dotty replied. "Those bad wizards being bad again, they are. Everyone went out, even Madam Amelia, went out all over."
Ron was shuffling through the papers the littering the ground. "Multiple attacks." He reported. "North London, Edinburgh, Shropshire, Sollihull, they've all reported sightings of the Dark Mark. This is a massive. Do you think that Voldemort has finally decided to face the Ministry head on?"
"Seems like it." Harry agreed.
"Dotty," Hermione kneeled next to the diminutive creature, "Is there anyone else here? Anyone who can give us orders?"
Dotty shook her head worriedly, "All left, they did, Dotty all alone to watch the office."
There was a distant shout.
Hermione stood quickly drawing her wand. Harry and Ron immediately rushed for the door. Hermione turned to the Dotty, "Stay here, use your magic to seal it up, don't let anyone in."
Dotty nodded and Hermione followed after her friends. They erupted into a silent hallway. Harry and Ron held their wands at the ready, each facing a different direction. Hermione kneeled on the ground between them.
"Where, Hermione?" Harry asked.
Hermione closed her eyes and concentrated. The Auroring office was indeed empty. Stodgy old Mr. Melps was in the records library but the ancient wizard was half deaf and entirely senile, he would be no help. The potions staff was also missing. But moving rapidly a floor above them was a group of people that Hermione couldn't identify.
"Someone is trying to break into the offices upstairs." She said getting to her feet.
Harry was frowning, "They drew out the other Aurors so that they could easily break into the Ministry. What do they want?"
"Let's go ask them." Ron growled as he took off running.
Hermione and Harry followed after Ron, who was faster than either of them, down the hall to the door on the far end. On the other side of the door was a lift to the floors above. But before Ron could jerk open the door, Dotty popped into existence before them. She held up both tiny hands to Ron who stopped short.
"Dotty," Hermione cried as she crashed ungracefully into Ron. "I told you to stay in the office."
"Dotty will take you upstairs, faster this way, and they won't be expecting it." She said quickly in her shrill voice.
They looked to Harry, their perpetual leader, who shrugged, "Haven't traveled by house elf before, have we?"
"Well," Hermione replied, "House elves do have their own special magic that enables them to move through unplottable areas that normal wizards could not apparate and-"
"Oh, I'm sorry, Hermione." Ron interrupted snidely, "I hadn't realized that we had postponed our previously post-hast mission for a little lesson in house elves."
Dotty was nodding, "Too right, you are." And, with no more discussion, she clapped her miniscule hands together.
Hermione found herself rocketing upwards, the walls around them became a blur of color as they shot towards the ceiling. They didn't crash into it, as she had expected, instead Hermione felt as if her very being had loosened. Hermione felt airy and liquid all at the same time. Then with the merest of blinks they were through the ceiling and her feet were touching the ground as corporeal as ever.
"Wow," Ron muttered.
Dotty nodded quickly before vanishing again.
They found themselves in a long room with stainless steel tables and walls lined with glass-fronted shelves containing many curious items. A container of metallic butterflies floated a foot off the floor near Hermione.
"Lot of odd stuff," Ron said as he looked cautiously around. "I haven't ever been up here."
"Me neither." Harry agreed.
Hermione said nothing for a moment then after their odd looks, "I have been up here a time or two. I think the head of this department, Mr. Ollerton, was trying to tempt me into transferring. He showed me around. They do some really fascinating wor-"
"That's all well and good but we're in the middle of something here." Harry broke in. "Hermione, where should we-"
From the far end of the hall, an explosion followed by the sound of cascading glass, rang out.
"This way," Harry hissed and they raced off down the hall, wands at the ready.
The sounds were coming from the farthest door at the end of the long room that Dotty had brought them to. Hermione could feel the presence of five other people in the antechamber: one whose aura was pale and weak.
"Five people." Hermione whispered, "I think one is wounded."
"Do they know we're here?" Harry asked.
Hermione bit her lip then shook her head. "I don't think so.
Harry nodded grimly before exchanging a glance with Ron. "Right, let's go." With a masterful swish of his wand the oaken door exploded inward spraying the contents of the room, inhabitants included, with splintered wood.
What followed happened very quickly.
The Death Eaters, there were four as Hermione had predicted, were standing around a table topped with mounds of scrolls. Mr. Ollerton himself was laying in the fetal position on the floor not far from them. Blood was trickling freely from a gash on his forehead and he was shaking with what could only be the after-effects of the Cruciatus curse. The cloaked Death Eaters had been momentarily stunned by Harry's dramatic entrance. In fact, it appeared that one of them had been hit rather soundly with a piece of the door, his mask had been knocked partially askew and the curve of his left cheek, which Hermione could now see, was scratched and raw.
"Expelliarmus!" Ron shouted as he stepped past Harry into the room.
One of the Death Eaters, the tallest one who stood to the far right of the table, brought his wand up quickly. "Impedimenta!"
Ron's charm was deflected harmlessly.
Hermione, in a move that they had practiced many times before, cast, "Lumenerupto", onto one of the pieces of broken door that lay on the floor near the Death Eaters' feet.
The chunk of wood suddenly gleamed with a light so bright that it was blinding. The Death Eaters cried and attempted to cover their eyes but the damage was already done and they were momentarily dazed.
As Hermione had cast her charm Harry and Ron had both rushed to either side of the room and had cast Stupefy at their vision-impaired enemies. The shining light of the wood burned down to a mere glow and Hermione cast another spell as the Death Eaters began to fall, the first felled by Harry, the second brought down immediately after by Ron.
"Accio!" Hermione called quickly as the cloaked figures fell. In a great rush of air the scrolls that were important enough to lure the Death Eaters into the Ministry of Magic swished off the table and into her waiting arms. The force of it knocked her back a step.
The daze had worn off. The tall Death Eater, the one who had blocked Ron's charm, grabbed the arm of his only conscious fellow and jerked him towards the door. He cast another Impedimenta charm at Harry and Ron just managing to stop their Stupefy charms.
Hermione, already off-balance by the weight of the suddenly acquired scrolls, was knocked easily aside by the escaping Death Eaters. The scrolls rolled across the floor.
"Hermione!" Harry and Ron shouted together.
Hearing the panic in their voices, she rolled quickly onto her side and cast her own Impedimenta charm. A red light hit her shield only a split second later. Hermione couldn't help the tiny scream of shock and relief as it bounced backwards and hit a table near the casting Death Eater.
The table, much like Harry's door, exploded.
The Death Eaters turned and disappeared into the hallway.
"Are you all right?" Ron had reached her.
"Hermione?" Harry asked.
Hermione pushed Ron's helping hands away, "Are you daft?" She cried,
"Go after them, stop them, I'm fine!"
Ron squeezed her shoulder before pulling away from her. Harry had already run past them and Ron followed him through the door. Hermione got gingerly to her feet but her ankle twitched painfully under her weight. She was going to be hard pressed to keep up with Harry and Ron. She could hear shouts and explosions as curses were exchanged somewhere down the hall but they were fading. Hermione growled in frustration. What type of Auror was she if she couldn't even keep up with her partners?
"Dotty," Hermione called suddenly, an idea having occurred to her, "Dotty?"
A half second later and Dotty popped into existence before her.
"Oh, Miss Granger, Dotty has been hearing awful things, are you all right?" The little creature leaned over and placed a motherly hand over Hermione's ankle.
This distracted Hermione for a moment. "Dotty," She asked thoughtfully, "How did you know where I was hurt?"
Dotty smiled sagely, "Us house-elves know a bit more magic than the wizards seem to think, do we?"
Another crash, muffled as if it were coming up through several floors, prevented Hermione from querying Dotty for any more information concerning House elf magic.
"Dotty," Hermione asked, catching one of elf's hands in her own, "Can you take me downstairs to Harry and Ron?"
Dotty didn't seem to think that that was the best idea that she had heard. "They is fighting downstairs, and you are hurt. Wouldn't be safe for you."
"Please Dotty, I have to be with them." Hermione pleaded for this was already taking to much time.
With a dark look that clearly said that she wasn't happy about doing it, Dotty nodded and jerked Hermione down through at least four floors in a blink. Hermione almost lost her balance again when her feet reformed on the ground floor of the Ministry.
"We went faster that time," Hermione felt dizzy.
Dotty nodded and pointed at the open door not far from them. "That door goes out into Diagon Alley. It's the back door, not many use it. But those bad wizards, they knew."
Hermione nodded, she understood Dotty's message. One of the remaining Death Eaters must work for the Ministry.
Hermione limped to the door, as Dotty had said, Diagon Alley stretched past her. Wizards were running and screaming. The two Death Eaters stood proudly in the middle of the street just a step beyond the unplottable border that surrounded the Ministry Headquarters. Harry and Ron stood ten feet from them to the right and the left. Harry's left arm was hanging oddly at his side but he showed no sign of pain. His face was set in a determined, furious expression.
The Death Eaters were not pointing their wands at Harry and Ron but at a crowd of frightened witches and wizards that hadn't been able to make it to safety.
"Oh no," Hermione whispered, "Oh, they can't."
But apparently they could.
The tall wizard, his mask-covered face never turning from Harry suddenly shouted, "Avada Kedavra!"
People screamed as the killing curse shot into the defenseless crowd.
"No!" Harry shouted, "Stupefy!"
The other wizard took the hex straight on but the tall Death Eater apparated away just in time. His not-so-fortunate comrade lay unconscious in the street.
Ron rushed forward and cast ropes around the prone man. The crowd had grown very still.
Very quiet.
Harry stood facing them, unable to approach.
Hermione came limping up to the group of witches and wizards. "Is anyone hurt?" She asked, her voice dry, she already knew the answer.
Hermione had heard this type of relieved silence before in her seventh year when the Creevey's parents had died.
The crowd backed up, letting her through. In the center was a tiny woman kneeling over a painfully familiar young man. His eyes were open and glassy with death. The woman turned to look at Hermione. Her Weasley-red hair framed an alabaster, white face.
"We were meeting for lunch, Hermione, didn't I tell you earlier?"
It was a cold day for a funeral.
Hermione hadn't ever been to a funeral, at least, not one that she could remember. Her mother had told her once how she had plucked all the petals off of a purple carnation wreath that had rested at the foot of her great-grandmother's casket but Hermione had been far too young to recall that particular memory. Even though she knew it was wrong, Hermione hoped that she would somehow manage to lose this memory as well.
Ginny was sobbing.
There was black lace at the end of her sleeves and Hermione curled her fingers into it, stretching the delicate Italian handiwork as she tried to hide the trembling of her hands. Harry, who had thus far been a silent and steady presence to her right, noticed and caught both hands in his own. His black dragon hide gloves, like all things made from dragon hide, were oddly warm to the touch. But her trembling didn't stop. Hermione wasn't cold.
She was numb.
A priest stood at the head of the open grave. Despite marrying a witch and having a wizard for a son, Seamus' father was devoutly Catholic and had insisted on a proper burial for his only son. His family, muggle and not, sat on rickety chairs in three rows. Ginny sat with Seamus' mother. Ron stayed protectively at her side.
Hermione glanced away from the spectacle, her eyes wandering over the crowd of familiar and strange faces that had come to mourn the passing of Seamus Finnegan.
The graveyard ran across a rolling, green hill. Headstones, some so ancient that they had been scraped smooth by the salt winds of the nearby ocean, were scattered across it. A sharp, biting wind tore at Hermione's hair, which had come loose from its tight knot earlier that day.
They should have saved him. No one said it. But Harry, Ron, and Hermione all knew that it was true. Seamus Finnegan had died at the hands of Lord Voldemort's supporters in an act of senseless violence.
Wind whipped ruthlessly over the hills, tugging at Hermione's black dress and robe. She turned her face into Harry's shoulder and tried not to cry tears of inconsolable guilt. What was the point of all the work they had done so far if innocent people kept dying?
When was it going to end?
As they started to cover the coffin with dirt, Harry began to lead her away. Neither of them wanted to talk to Ginny or Seamus' parents. Hermione knew, without needing to ask, that Harry had hoped that the wedding would never happen. Hermione knew, that he felt as though it was his fault.
"Ron is going to stay at the Burrow for a few days." Harry said softly, his voice low so as not to draw attention. He was staring down at the rocky ground as they walked. "He said that there would be a wake-"
"Can we just go home?" Hermione cut in, the thought of being around Seamus' family longer than was absolutely necessary was making her feel sick to her stomach.
Harry looked up quickly, relief bright in his green eyes. "Sure, we don't need to stay."
Hermione nodded her head slowly. They didn't need to discuss it anymore. He knew why she wanted to go home, why she didn't want to go to the wake. They would end up explaining what happened again and again. How many people would ask them if they could have done something differently? How many would ask them if what the Death Eaters had been after was worth saving if it meant costing Seamus Finnegan his life.
And the truth was that it hadn't been worth it.
The Death Eaters had broken into the Ministry to steal a few scrolls that contained nothing more important than a payroll list for the Agricultural and Magical farming department, a charm devoted to cleaning out the purple dye of the rafflesia flower, and a map of the third basement level at Gringotts that, according the goblins, was so out of date that it was useless.
The Death Eaters had broken into the Ministry to prove that they could. To show wizards that they weren't safe and that the Auroring department was populated by fools. And poor Seamus Finnegan had just been in the wrong place at the worst possible time.
They didn't speak at all on the auto ride home. They could have apparated to the front gate of their flat but Hermione and Harry both found an odd touch of comfort from the muggle action of taking an auto.
She took a bath, immediately after arriving home, that was so hot her skin was splotchy with red and white patches when she got out. Hermione put on her most favorite pair of pajamas, the worn blue flannel ones with little stars, even though it was only four in the afternoon. She didn't bother with her hair at all and it hung in a dripping mass of tangled curls down her back.
Harry was sitting at the kitchen table when she came out. He hadn't moved at all since they got home. One elbow was propped on the table and he was rubbing his forehead. He held his old glasses loosely in his other hand. Hermione approached him carefully; she wasn't able to read his emotions like she normally could.
"Harry?"
"I wanted something to happen." He replied. "I didn't want her to get married."
"Harry," Hermione placed a hand on his shoulder, trying to offer the comfort that she herself needed. "This isn't your fault."
He laughed oddly, a choked noise that sounded closer to a sob, "Didn't you hear me, Hermione?" He looked up at her over his shoulder, his eyes not quite able to focus on her, "I wanted something to happen."
Her lip trembled and tears began to slip down her cheeks. Hermione leaned forward and wrapped her arms around his neck in an awkward hug. She pressed her face into his shoulder.
"I did too, Harry."