Confusion ahead! Go back and just glance at the last chapter. To help you keep everything straight, flashbacks are now italicized. Things will be jumping around a bit, so keep a sharp eye out.
WARNING! BAD WORDS AHEAD! SHIELD YOUR VIRGIN EYES IF YOU MUST!
"So we'll have a May wedding then?"
"Whatever you want, love."
"Oh don't hand me that tosh, George Weasley. I'm not falling for that 'oh-I'll-go-along-with-anything-because-I-love-you-so-much' act. You're going to have a say in this wedding whether you like it or not."
George's eyes twinkled in the starlight as he surveyed his soon-to-be bride with mild satisfaction.
"Always knew I shouldn't marry a female Quidditch player," he said, shaking his head slightly. "Brutal, you lot."
"Got that right," she responded, jabbing him sharply in the ribs with her pointer finger.
"Ouch!" he shifted away from her on the grass. "Alright, alright. How about the twenty fourth? Does that suit Her violent Majesty?"
"Suits me just fine," she grinned.
"No more jabbing then," he warned, before pulling her back into his arms. She grinned as they lay back on the soft summer grass and stared up at the stars that were hovering in brilliant clusters in the velvety sky above the Burrow.
The forty-eight hours following the incident in the dungeons passed for Hermione in a blur of paperwork, stabbing headaches, crippling nausea, meetings with hysterical parents, and generous memory modifications. Madam Pomfrey had been forced to recall her permanently to the Hospital Wing over the weekend. Forty three students had looked upon the corpse of their classmate. Forty three memories had to be modified immediately. A meeting of the entire school had to be called. And one family had to be summoned to the castle to receive the worst possible news.
It took Hermione precisely twenty two minutes to regain consciousness after Dumbledore arrived in her classroom. And those twenty two minutes were the only precious moments of solid unconsciousness she would have for weeks to come.
"Hermione, I'm afraid I'm going to have to insist you take a break."
Ink trickled across the parchment in front of her. She jerked up sleepily, shaking her head. "Shit," she cursed softly as she watched the ink spread like black veins across the yellow parchment entitled 'ACCIDENTAL DEATH FORM'.
But even as she began scuffling things aside and reaching for her wand, a gnarled hand descended, and with a gentle touch, vanished the spreading ink.
"You need to rest," Dumbledore said gently, though his tone left no room for argument.
"I can't rest," she insisted, rubbing the half-concocted sleep furiously from her eyes and threading her fingers through her unruly hair. "I've still got all these forms to finish and his parents are coming up tomorrow and we still don't know what the bloody fucking hell happened."
Whatever she had been about to say next died in her throat as she clapped her hands over her mouth in embarrassment. She'd just sworn. Hermione Granger did not use that sort of foul language. And not only had she sworn, but she'd done so in front of her old Headmaster and her current employer. It was rather like being caught snogging by her grandfather.
But Dumbledore merely surveyed her over the top of his half-moon spectacles.
"And for what I believe is the second time, I can happily assure you that I have gone temporarily deaf and haven't heard a word you just said."
"I'm sorry sir," she said quietly, and was quite horrified to feel tears beginning to prick the corner of her eyes. "I'm just so…"
What? Terrified? Sickened?
"I understand, Hermione. It is perfectly natural to feel overwhelmed right now. However, I and the students need you to be strong." Dumbledore gathered her scattered papers with a flick of his wand and set them neatly on the corner of her desk. "And I am highly skeptical of your ability to remain brave in the face of this tragedy when you are getting little to no sleep for several consecutive days."
Hermione rested her head in her hands and stared sullenly at the now bare surface of her desk.
"This is all my fault."
The words were so quiet, she hoped against hope that he hadn't heard them. She hadn't meant to say them aloud. But in her current sleep-deprived state, thoughts and half-formed ideas were slipping from her mouth more frequently than she would care to admit.
"Hermione," Dumbledore said after a pause, "it is an odd quality that you and your friends possess. Both admirable and reprehensible, you are all far too ready to accept the blame for things that have absolutely nothing to do with you."
The tears were really burning now. It had something to do with her. And she bloody well knew it.
"I will meet with the boy's parents first. For now, I absolutely insist that you retire to your bedchambers." And with that tone of definite finality, Dumbledore scooped up the stack of papers and turned to leave.
Hermione kept her eyes trained on the desk as he made his way out. However, just before he closed the heavy wooden door behind him, he turned and addressed her once more.
"Make no mistake, Hermione, that whoever is behind this attack will be caught," he said quietly, but she could feel the fury and the dormant formidable power behind his words.
The candles had burned down to their brackets. The dungeons were shrouded in shadows. Though her eyelids sagged and her body ached for sleep, Hermione still sat at her desk, her mind thrumming.
"Why did it have to be a student?" she said softly.
No answer echoed back at her from the stone walls.
"WHY DID IT HAVE TO BE A FUCKING STUDENT!"
Before she knew what she was doing, she was on her feet, hurling the nearest inkwell at the door. Screaming in agony, she continued demolishing everything within her reach, before she crumpled into a ball on the cold floor, her arms wrapped around herself in defeat, no longer bothering to fight the sobs of misery that were tearing from her throat.
Sleepless night upon sleepless night left Hermione in her current state, pacing over her threadbare rug, waiting for something. She wasn't sure what.
So it had been two weeks since the Order meeting and one week since the death of her student. She still couldn't bear to think of his parents' haunted eyes. Their expressions of disbelief. Their horror.
Her fault.
Dark musings surfaced from the recesses of her mind as her pacing slowed and she sunk into the nearby arm chair.
Knock knock knock
Hermione didn't hear it at first.
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK
She leapt off her chair, crashing into her table and nearly taking out the ornate candelabra that sat on it. Stumbling to the door, she wrenched it open, half-hoping and half-expecting to see someone terribly familiar.
But what she saw sent a surge of warmth through her. Unbidden tears of happiness rose to her eyes.
"Harry!" she managed to croak, before flinging herself into his arms.
A/N: Okay, okay, okay. I know this is sort of against my policy of being a lazy shmuck who does nothing, but because I love you all (and I have three days off of work for the 4th of July. WOO!), I've decided to personally reply to a few of the latest reviews.
PhantomFlutePlayer – don't worry. I forgive you for your ca-razy suggestions
Sweetsyph – YAY! I'VE SUCKED IN ANOTHER PERSON:ohsojealous: have fun at the show! It's awesomezors!
Morauko – thanks for the review, and I really liked your story too EVERYONE GO READ MORAUKO'S STORY IF YOU AREN'T SQUICKED BY SLASH! GO NOW, YOU FOOLS!
Dali2thellamasquared – I love you. And I'm just fabulous. How are things on your end of the world? (er…one state over )
Lostmysock – yes, yes, I agree.
Love that elf – don't die!
Aleatha515 – all in good time, my child. You shall see all in good time.
Oh, yeah, and Morauko asked about clarifying the ages of everyone and so forth. Right. Excellent. Good question. Right-o. I, as the author, should be able to answer that quickly and with no hesitation.
Which begs the question why I sat here for fifteen minutes re-figuring it all out.
But I did it!
So here it goes. Sorry I confuzzled you all
Hermione – turned 20 on September 19th at the beginning of this year. So she's currently 20.
Harry – 19 (not 20 until July)
Ron – just turned 20 about halfway through this fic (on March 1st). It wasn't mentioned though.
Ginny – 18 (will turn 19 on August 11th). Has spent nearly an entire year out of Hogwarts. Graduated two months before turning 18.
Luna – same age as Ginny, but with different birthdays, obviously.
Luna's brother (Lovegood) – a seventh year. So when Luna was at Hogwarts, he would have been one year below her. Not technically mentioned in the books, but hang with me here.
I think one of the confusing factors was that I (stupidly) told you that Harry and Hermione were 'quite a bit older'. That was really poetic license on my part (read: a HUGE exaggeration). They're not very old. They're only 2 years out of Hogwarts. But, I'll justify them getting married by saying that, with the things they've had to handle, they've grown up a lot faster emotionally than most kids. Right. And I'll stand by that.
I hope this chapter didn't confuse you. I jumped around. Last chapter started with Hermione pacing, and then the incident and the first part of this chapter was her flashback, and now we're back in the present with her resumed pacing.
The George and Katie thing is happening in the meantime in the background.
Big thanks and love goes out to all my reviewers. You guys are amazing.
Love,
Little Lotte