Chapter Ten: Interlude: five years later
The bastard, she thought as she tailed him through the dankest corridors of London. Why couldn't he have picked somewhere warm and sunny? Or at least dry and clean? She had been shadowing him this time for nearly a week. Hiding in trash-filled alleys, huddling in dark doorways. She hadn't had a decent bath or meal for as long as she could remember. She was tired. She was hungry. And she was pissed off. All because of the latest bimbo on his arm. And she hated herself for it.
The day she completed her Auror training, she had asked for this assignment. No one knew him as well as she. No one could predict his moves or anticipate his thoughts. No one but her. And so she was given the responsibility. And the endless stab of pain. For along with snippets of plans for Death Eater resurgence, she was treated to an endless string of his lovers. Blondes, brunettes, redheads. Tall, short, always curvy. Pouty lips with too much makeup. Whores. Every one of them. And she hated him all the more for them…for moving on…from her.
Once, they had been soulmates. Once, they had been lovers. And he had betrayed her. Five years ago. On that horrible day of battle, amid the chaos and fear, he had betrayed her as if she meant nothing. And he hadn't looked back.
There was nothing redeeming about him, she reminded herself daily. No hope for his soiled soul. Despite the yearnings for him she couldn't quite exorcise from her heart, she hated him with the intensity of a thousand suns. And so she buried those yearnings so deeply she could almost believe she forgot them completely. Because she desperately wanted to. And instead she focused on her anger for what he did to her and to all those she loved…to all those for whom he should have fought alongside her…before he turned both his back and his wand on them.
Yes, she hated him. And so she would follow him…him and whatever skank he had plastered to his side at the given moment. And she would betray him in kind, and send his sorry ass straight to Azkaban – or Hell – whichever came first. The thought had her smirking in twisted delight.
-
"You're home," Ron replied in relief when Hermione finally flooed into their living room after the passing of a full week. He looked his girlfriend over from head to toe and saw not the grime and fatigue which she wore like a second skin, but the utter despair she tried so hard to hide when she was around him. Malfoy, he thought in disgust. The man still burned his insides to near dust. How he should be free to roam the streets of London was beyond him. Often was the occasion he bent the Minister of Magic's ear about bringing Malfoy in. But Fudge merely shut his suggestions down with explanations of Malfoy's worth on the outside. As long as Hermione tracked his every move and reported all she learned to the Ministry, he needed to be free to conduct Death Eater business. And so she followed him. And so Ron was forced to watch her die a little more each day.
"I think we're close," was all she said as she brushed the soot from her robes. "This time I think we're definitely close." She looked up tiredly into the face of the wonderful man in front of her. Ron. Her Ron. Why he had stood by her after all she put him through would always be a mystery to her.
"I love you," he said, as if in answer to her unspoken question. "And I'm glad you're here. Come on," he said as he gently removed her cloak. "Let me draw you a bath, feed you and tuck you in for a good night's sleep."
Hermione smiled at him then with a genuine heart-felt smile. He was so thoughtful…so changed from all of those years ago. He never argued with her anymore. He was just there…whenever and however she needed him. She knew he loved her. And she was grateful. And, in her own way, she loved him back. She just prayed it would be enough for him.
-
Planning at Headquarters the following day was very productive. "They are to meet at the end of this week," said Hermione as the others listened. "But this time will be different. This time we can get them all in one fell swoop." Eyebrows raised and murmurings started as Hermione stood from the table. "As you know, I've been tailing the younger Malfoy for the better part of a week. Per usual, he treated me to the finest of meeting locales." Here she paused for the chuckles. And the finest of his lady friends, she thought bitterly. "Last night, on the final night of my assignment, I managed to get close enough to overhear just the conversation we've been waiting for. They're to choose their new leader on Saturday. 11 pm, sharp. Malfoy Manor."
A few gasps could be heard from around the room. After all, Lucius Malfoy was known far and wide not only for his brutality in battle but also for the expertise of his protection wards and spells. The thought of attacking on Malfoy ground was a small setback. But not one they couldn't overcome. "We can do this," Hermione said in a confident voice as she met the eye of each member. "I know we can. Now is the time to strike and end this once and for all."
Rallying cries went up from her fellow members in the Order. Aurors, Ministry officials and workers, housewives, teachers and students. She was proud to count herself among them and her heart swelled. At the head of the room Albus Dumbledore stood to regain order. Raising his hand he waited patiently until the last voice quieted. "Ms. Granger is right," he said in his ever-wise tone. "There is much to plan. Come, let us begin." With a nod to the affirmative, Hermione took her place at the table, once more by Ron's side.
-
The week flew by for both Hermione and Ron as the final plans for attack were made. Hermione, as an Auror, would have a greater role to play in the lead of the evening. Ron, as a Ministry worker, would be part of the masses to follow the initial security breach. They were confident, yes, but nervous of the last skirmish to come.
On Friday evening, Albus called an early end to the night. He instructed everyone to return home, eat, and sleep as well as they could. For, he reasoned, tomorrow was the final liberation. And they needed to be rested and ready.
That evening, in front of the fireplace in their flat, Ron poured out his heart to Hermione and asked her to be his wife. "I've loved you for as long as I can remember, 'Mione. I will do everything in my power to make you happy," he promised her. "And I will love you no matter what comes our way, until the end of our lives."
Knowing that tomorrow would change everything once and for all, Hermione decided to look to her future with Ron as a sign that all would be well for her…for them. As he slipped the chosen ring onto her finger, she nodded with eyes shiny from tears…tears of compassion for the man in front of her…and tears for the long-ago loss she still felt deep in her heart. "Yes," she said simply. And then she smiled as Ron hooted with happiness.
-
At 5pm on Saturday they all met at Headquarters. After taking a light meal to commune as one, they focused on last minute preparation and waited for cover of darkness.
At 11:10 pm small pops could be heard outside of the Malfoy gates as the members of the Order apparated into position.
By 11:18 pm the advance team had broken through the external shields and charms and together they all advanced on the Manor. Within moments they were storming the doors and other hidden entrances. And as the Death Eaters voted for their next leader, they received the surprise of attack from all sides.
By 11:22 pm wands were drawn. Curses were thrown. Death Eaters caught off guard were quickly detained. And Hermione saw Lucius and Draco slip silently through an unmarked door. Hermione and Ron gave chase, Hermione following Lucius when they split and Ron following Draco.
At 11:54 pm Hermione floated Lucius' immobulized body back to the dungeon where the others were waiting for her. The death count was minimal. Transport of the prisoners to the Ministry building had begun. And there was no sign of Ron.
11:59 pm: Hermione's frantic search of the darkened passageways left her cold. Something was terribly wrong and she could feel it in her soul. Shouts from up ahead reassured her but then a monstrous crash…a thundering boom…threatened to deafen her as the walls began to shake. Coughing as she pushed through the dust, she saw Draco up ahead, his hair shining in the light from the other side of the decimated wall. A warrior angel, she thought, feeling strangely detached from the picture in front of her. And then she looked down and changed her mind. The angel of death. In a mixture of shock and horror, she realized that among the rubble at Draco's feet was the body of Ron. Her Ron. Dead. Stumbling forward she raised her wand to strike Draco down. But he had disappeared. And so she dropped to her knees and wept.
-
It was early the next day when Lucius escaped the Ministry's clutches. Hermione, dazed from the night before, remembered the threats Lucius had made to her as they dueled in his dungeons. He had listed the reasons for his contempt of her and then had vowed to make her pay with her life before she saw him in Azkaban. And now he was free.
She wasn't so much afraid for herself. She had nothing left to live for. But she was afraid for those around her. They were in dangerbecause Lucius was on the loose and she knew he would use them to reach her. And soHermione did the only things she could do before giving in to the despair and fear that threatened to crush her. Methodically, she packed a small bag, said goodbye to the flat holding sweet memories of Ron, left it in a shambles as if she had been attacked, and made her way to Dumbledore.
Saddened by her decision, but understanding her pain as well as her honor and courage, Dumbledore wished her luck. And with words of fatherly love, he vowed to keep her secret to death.
And so she was sent to her new life.
Broken and alone.