Chapter Fifteen of Unexpected Losses
Hermione Granger was miserable, cold, and terrified. She had been alone for so long. Ron hadn't come back, and every second that passed left her more worried. There was no one near her apparently, and the echoing silence around her grew more and more fearsome. She remained in the corner of the cell where she and Ron had found themselves. She sat with her back to the wall, knees bent up to her chest. Despite her conditions, her mind was concentrated on something else. Escape was unthinkable without Ron, so she focused on something less pleasant.
Her teacher.
Despite obvious traitorous actions, there was something very wrong with Caitriona Kehoe. Won over despite herself over the past semester, Hermione hadn't taken the time to think about it. Kehoe was just too perfect. Despite everything she had apparently gone through, the older woman was beautiful, preternaturally strong, and in far too many ways flawless. She had won over the staff and the students. Even Slytherins respected her.
After what had happened with Moody, Hermione had assumed that the teachers that were hired for the Defense Against the Dark Arts teaching position would have been more carefully monitored. Perhaps she had managed to sneak by the other teachers...how she'd tricked Dumbledore, Hermione was unsure. He knew most everything about Hogwarts, and everyone who resided in the building. Kehoe might've been under the Imperious Curse, but Hermione was loath to believe it. It just didn't sit right with her.
Caitriona Kehoe was vile through and through. Hermione could barely stand to think about the woman. Every single flaw and fact that should've slapped Hermione in the face throughout the last school year became apparent. The young woman felt rather as if she was waking from a long sleep. She shivered. Was this some kind of spell? Could something like it take over an entire school? Could Dumbledore – arguably the most notable wizard of the age – fall to such a trap so easily?
The wheels rotating in Hermione's mind were halted when the subject of her thoughts appeared. Hermione wished desperately for her wand. If only she could cast animadverto verum. A charm that allowed the caster to see the truth of things. If the facade of Caitriona was false, it would allow Hermione to see who was beneath it.
"Who are you?" Hermione asked quietly, her voice quiet, strained from the past few hours of unstoppable tears.
"Haven't you figured it out yet, Mudblood?" Kehoe asked in a lazy tone, staring at the girl in the corner.
"I know you're not who you say you are." Hermione answered. "I know that you're a Death Eater. All I don't know is how."
Caitriona's pretty face twisted into a sneer. "And they call you the cleverest witch?"
"Who are you?" Hermione ignored the insult. Her pride wasn't important right then. The truth was what really mattered. "You're not Kehoe...and you managed all of this. You've got to be a high-ranking Death Eater. Voldemort wouldn't trust just anyone with the job that he gave you."
"Don't say his name! You're not worthy." Kehoe hissed angrily from outside Hermione's cell. She was nearly growling.
"Voldemort, Voldemort, Voldemort." Hermione replied in a sing-song tone, ignoring the rational part of her mind, which was screaming at her for being an idiot.
"You can be the next to die." Kehoe threatened, her dark eyes narrowed.
Hermione, however, was following the track that she began earlier. "I'd say that you were Malfoy's father, but I can't see him lowering himself into a woman's position.
"As if the Dark Lord would trust him with something important." Kehoe answered, temper still flaring. Hermione hid a pleased smirk. The woman really was easy to get to.
"Oh, but he would trust you?"
"I am his most trusted servant."
"But you're still a servant." Hermione replied, a note of mockery in her tone. "Like a little house elf. I bet that's what you are under that glamour of yours. A big eared, ugly little beast. Perhaps you're Kreacher!" Hermione, while still adamantly fighting for the rights of house elves, knew that her insinuation was driving the woman before her mad. She made sure to sound delighted at this last possibility. "The only thing you want is to have your head hung on the wall. I'm surprised that Voldemort would even put up with you." She stressed the name just to further irritate her old teacher.
"Shut your mouth you filthy little mudblooded bitch." Kehoe nearly screeched.
"Why, don't like hearing the truth, Kreacher?" Hermione asked cruelly, mind working furiously behind her insults.
"You will learn respect." Kehoe snarled. "I am Bellatrix Lestrange and you will regret ever opening your idiotic little mouth. Just like your little boyfriend regretted opening his."
Hermione stared in open shock. She was surprised it was so easy to get the woman to reveal herself. Immediately she remembered that it was Bellatrix Lestrange that killed Sirius Black, pushing him through the veil. And she helped drive Neville's parents insane with torture. Hermione shook herself, trying to drive the woman's taunt from her mind. No matter what Lestrange might say...Ron was okay. She was just trying to unnerve Hermione. Unfortunately, it was working too well. Hermione tried to examine Lestrange from the corner of her eye, to catch a hint of a lie.
"Think I'm lying, do you, girl?" Lestrange jeered. "No. He should've just done as he was told. But it's too late for him now."
"Shut up." Hermione muttered in response, unwilling to listen further.
"You should be proud, really. He managed to mess things up. All because he couldn't stand it." Lestrange was speaking in an odd sing-song voice. "He gave up."
"You're out of your mind." Hermione replied acidly, slowly rising to her feet. It only took a few seconds until she was face-to-face to Bellatrix. The only thing between them was a very muggle wall of bars. They were spaced about five inches apart. Only vertically. There was no way to slip her entire body through them, but she pulled back her fist and punched the woman with all her might.
A pleasant sounding crunch from her nose was Hermione's reward, and a horrible pain from her knuckles. She felt rather as if she broke her hand with the assault on Bellatrix.
Bitterly angry at the development, Bellatrix Lestrange held her bleeding nose and glared at Hermione in a way that froze the girl to her marrow. "I hope you enjoyed that. Because when the Dark Lord finishes with you, you'll be in even more pieces than Ronald. But not a whole lot deader."
Hermione reeled back at her words, comprehension dawning over her slowly. There was too much arrogance for this to be a lie. But there was no possibility of it being true. Because Ron couldn't die. He couldn't leave her alone there. It just wasn't possible.
OoOoOoO
Giles had to leave with Buffy. Regardless of all new developments, there was no choice. He was actually rather glad that Xander would remain with Willow, because he wasn't sure that he could leave her there alone with the wizards, and she wasn't in a condition to travel at the moment. He was currently on his way home from the airport. He had to stay long enough to make sure she boarded the plane. He lingered until after it took off.
He was well aware of his Slayer's perseverance. Especially when it came to her friends. He caught her trying to sneak off once, and convinced a stewardess to accompany her onto the plane, saying that Buffy was afraid of flying. The woman gladly complied, apparently having dealt with the problem before. Buffy had glared at Giles darkly, but remained on the plane the second time.
Meanwhile, Willow and Xander stayed at Giles's flat with Harry, Fred, and George.
Willow was uncomfortable in the situation. Harry had talked about Ron and Hermione quite a bit since she'd asked about them, just as she'd then discussed Xander and Buffy with him. But Ron was dead. He had been killed by the very wizard that was after both of them. They hadn't been friends that long. What was she supposed to say? What could she say? After Jesse had died...it tore a hole in her heart. He and Xander were her best friends. Buffy was her best friend now, but there would always be a gaping hole that Jesse had filled. She had spent her share of nights crying and mourning.
But it was somehow different. Because Harry felt like he was responsible for what happened to his best friend. Xander understood how that felt. Despite the fact that it was an accident, he had been the one to stake his best friend. He had actually left the room, taking Willow with him, after Giles and Buffy had left. He wanted to give the three some time to grieve before having to deal with them.
Eventually, one of the twins came back to Willow's room. He knocked on the door before entering. "Hi." His voice was rough.
"Hello Fred." Willow greeted him by name, to his surprise. Willow didn't know exactly how she knew which of twins he was. There was just a feeling, and judging by his shock, it was the correct one. "Should we go back, then?"
"Yeah. Harry wants to talk to you, I guess." He answered, and turned on his heel and left for the living room. Willow stood after a moment, glancing at Xander. The time they had spent in her room had been terse and uncomfortable.
"Thank you, Xander." Willow said, and she smiled wanly when he offered her his elbow to escort her back. "For staying."
"No where else I'd rather be, Wills." Xander answered. "You know, except maybe watching a scantily clad Buffy and Faith wrestle in either mud or jell-o. But you know. Other than that, right here."
"I will never be able to look at jell-o straight again." Willow teased; her nose was wrinkled in distaste, and she snuggled up to his arm, feeling safe for the at least the moment, which was just about as much as she could ask for. The pair weren't smiling when they entered the front room. Fred and George flanked Harry, all three sitting on the couch. None of them were crying, but Harry's eyes were rimmed red and were still shiny with the tears he eventually stopped shedding. His forehead was also sluggishly bleeding, which worried Willow. She noted that she should see to the wound at the first opportunity.
"Are you okay, Harry?" Willow asked, leaving Xander's side to approach her friend. Harry's eyes looked haunted, but he managed a detached sort of smile. "Of course you're not. I'm sorry. Is there anything I can do?"
"I'm going to kill him." Harry spoke in response, ignoring her questions. She blinked in response. "I'm going to kill him for what he did to Ron."
"No, Harry. That's not what you need to do right now. Maybe eventually, yeah. But there's something more important than that." Willow answered. She was shocked by the Harry's manner. He had changed a lot in a very short amount of time. He was grieving for his best friend, she knew, but this was something beyond grief. This was something beyond anger, too. It was as if he was stating a simple fact. The sky is blue. Ice is cold. My eyes are green. I'm going to kill Voldemort. Had he stated all of those things, Willow knew that she would hear the same truth ringing from each statement.
"What could be more important than what happened to Ron?" Fred asked in an angry voice. A look from his brother made him pause though, and he felt rather as if he was missing something vital at the moment. Blinded by his sadness.
"It's not who he killed that's important right now." Willow answered, kneeling in front of Harry, she rested her hands on his knees, and he glanced at them as if they were alien. All three wizards regarded her carefully. "It's who he hasn't killed."
"Oh, God. Hermione." Harry spoke in realization, eyes wide. "This is going to kill her."
"No." Xander spoke up, surprising everyone, seeing as how he wasn't really involved except for because of Willow. Even she stared at him. "This guy is going to kill her. Unless we stop him. So what do we do?"
"Are you out of your bloody mind?" George sputtered.
"You want to leave her there?" Xander asked in response, rhetorically. He could see how much the boys cared about Harry and his friends.
"That's my sister you're talking about." George answered, eyes narrowed once more at Xander. George wasn't sure whether or not he could even stand the American boy. He was observant, and obviously he stated what was on his mind. He seemed to understand the protective nature Fred and George had over their little brother, Harry, and Hermione. Then again, there was no way that he could properly understand the gravity of the situation. He was just a Muggle.
"Then how do we stop him? Kill him later. We need to get her out, now. She's what's important." Xander spoke frankly, unwilling to spare feelings when blunt words were needed. Willow was there to make sure that he didn't go too far, but the boys needed to hear what Xander was saying. "So. How do we find her? Can you do it the same way you found Harry?"
"No." George answered apologetically. "What we did with Harry...it's an odd circumstance. With Hermione with You-Know-Who...there's too big a risk that he'd either kill her or that he'd be prepared and ready for us. We can't risk Hermione like that."
"Besides, we kind of thought you were Muggles. We decided that we would Obliviate you guys before we left. Didn't know you were a witch." Fred continued.
"Memory charm?" Willow questioned, unsure. It was surprisingly her familiarity with Latin rather than any studying that gave the answer to the question. The three wizards nodded in return, acknowledging her answer. "Well, I'm glad you didn't. Memory charms can be dangerous if you're not specific enough."
"If Lockhart can manage them, anyone can." Harry snorted darkly, finally earning a smirk from the twin brothers at his commentary.
"Okay, so you can't find Hermione that way. Can't you simply scry for her presence?" Willow commented, moving the conversation along.
"Scry?" George repeated.
"Yeah. There are a couple of different ways to scry for someone." Willow, unknowingly, began a very Hermione-like lecture. "All of them require maps and some are far more specific than others. You can use a focusing stone for broad-spectrum searches. Like for a town or something like that. The most specific way I know requires a very specific, very close-area map. The smaller the area and the bigger the map, the better off you are. For that I'd need a few herbs that I don't have here, though.
"There's also a form of astral projection. That would be me sending a form of myself, that isn't physical, to wherever she is. The downsides of that are kind of...lots, though, so I don't suggest we try it. First of all, I'll be visible to all and sundry, so we'd have to be positive that she's alone to even consider it. And there's the fact that she might have no idea where she is, which would make it a huge waste of time. Unless you want to risk it to find out if she's alright?" She posed this last as a question to the boys, unwilling to make a move without their agreement.
She was almost surprised when each of them shook their head in return to her questioning.
"We know she's alive." George answered. "The clock would tell us."
"What clock?" Willow asked, remembering that they'd mentioned it before.
"Instead of hands telling time, there are members of the family on them. And there are locations rather than time on them. She's been on Lost since she disappeared. Ron was on Lost for a while, though. And then Mortal Peril. And then he...he just...faded." George answered her, obviously attempting not to lose track of the point of the conversation. Hermione. They had to save Hermione.
"Okay, then." Willow continued, refusing to give them time to dwell on the though. "So, we can scry for her. I need something that belongs to her, though. Do any of you have something?"
"I don't usually carry around Hermione's possessions." Fred answered in an annoyed voice. He coughed slightly when Harry gave him an equally annoyed glare. "Sorry, not helping."
"The next best thing that I can think of is to just scry for all magical activity. Maybe there will be a focused area that we can work with?" Willow answered somewhat hopelessly at that.
"There's got to be something at the Burrow." George suggested, earning a thoughtful look from Willow and Harry. "But you'd probably have to come over. I somehow doubt mum would want us to leave again."
"We should wait for Giles." Xander said thoughtfully in response.
"We don't have time, Xan." Willow answered him. "I mean...she could get killed if we stay. But Giles--." She seemed torn. Everyone in the room shared uncomfortable glances, each with their own priorities.
"You have to go." Xander sighed. "I'll stay and wait for Giles. When he gets back, I guess we'll go and see this...Bumblebee guy that they were talking about."
"Xander." Willow answered softly, knowing that after arguing his way into staying, the last thing he wanted to do was hang around Giles' empty flat while Willow went off with people he didn't know to put herself in possible danger. But he obviously knew that it was necessary. If Giles came back to find them gone. Even with a note...he would probably panic and that could lead to a number of bad areas that they didn't have time for. Not with a life on the line.
"No. It's okay. Somebody has to stay. And me, without all the magic powers, leaves me the best one to do it. You have to do the spell, Wills. I'll be okay." Xander insisted. "Just patch up your roomie before you go. Doesn't look like the neatest interest and that cut's pretty nasty."
Willow nodded in agreement, and fetched a wetted dish towel. With practiced ease, she washed all of the blood from Harry's face. Tsking absent-mindedly at the severity of his cut, she only took a few minutes to fix it with a patch of gauze and tape. While neat, it wasn't the most attractive band-aid ever made, but for the material that she had, it was quite effective. "There, you don't look like a bad Steven King extra."
"Thank you?" Harry asked, baffled.
"So, we're going to the Burrow?" Fred questioned.
"Looks like." George answered with a shrug. "Good thing we brought Floo."
"Good thing that this house is connected to the Network." George corrected. "Okay, Fred, you go first, then Harry, then Willow, and I'll bring up the rear. Just to make sure that everyone gets there in one piece, right?"
"Sounds good to me." Harry spoke up. Fred pulled out a pouch from his packet and placed it on the mantel after expanding it. He took a handful of the powder, and flung it into the fire that remained on the logs, dwindling until the powder touched it. It flared up green, and Fred stepped within the huge fireplace and turned.
"The Burrow!" He shouted, and disappeared.
Willow watched in wide-eyed fascination, as Harry repeated Fred's actions. She shuffled up to Xander and flung her arms around him. They hugged tightly, for a long time. Eventually, Willow pulled away, grabbed a handful of the powder, and flung it into the fire. "The Burrow!" She repeated clearly, understanding how important something as small as pronunciation could be with certain spells. She waved as she disappeared, staring Xander in the eye.
She disappeared. Xander blinked slowly; then walked forward and caught George's arm as the redhead approached the fireplace to follow. He looked down awkwardly, and then cleared his throat. "Um. Yeah. Do me a favor?"
"Yeah?" George asked, curiously.
"Don't let her get hurt if you can help it." Xander didn't look George in the eye. "See, she's my best friend. And I lost one about two years ago. And I can't lose her, too." He looked up and caught the redhead's eye then. "Please try to help her?"
"Yeah." George repeated, understanding what Xander couldn't exactly put into words. "Everything we can."
"Thank you. And good luck." Xander waved as the teenager disappeared into the flames with a last return wave goodbye. He sighed as the flames dwindled once more. He glanced around the empty room. Nothing to do now, but wait for Giles to get back. He fidgeted for a moment. He grabbed the towel and kit that Willow had used on Harry and put them in their proper places, wishing desperately that there was something that he could do to help his friends.
That was, until he heard an eerily familiarizing crack. His eyes widened as he heard it. Hoping, against hope, that it was Lupin, and not who he thought it was, he entered the living room (where the sound originated). He peeked around the corner to see the back of a familiar black cloak of what was now identified as a Death Eater. Xander backed up until he entered a bedroom. He closed the door before him, and backed up further until he hit the wall. He slid down the wall until he sat. He hid, hoping that the Death Eater would think the house was entirely vacated.
Sure, he had been forced to deal with the Death Eater before (possibly more than one, he wasn't sure), but he wasn't sure he could do much against magic. And it was better just to avoid the fight he wasn't sure that he could win. Unfortunately, a moment later, the door opened, and the Death Eater entered, glaring darkly about the room. He caught the slight movement of Xander ducking down further from the corner of his eye.
Behind his mask, Lucius scowled darkly. Only this boy remained in the household. He sensed it. But he would have to know where they had all gone. "Stand up, boy, I know that you're in here." He spoke in a threatening hiss. There was no response. "Get up, now." Lucius added.
Xander, meanwhile, glanced furiously around for a weapon, feeling particularly defenseless.
The wizard walked around the side of the bed (behind which Xander sat). He glared down. "Are you deaf?" He questioned.
Surprisingly, the boy answered. "Only in homeroom or when my parents want something." It was a quip. Sarcasm. Lucius was momentarily shocked. He could sense the fear coming from the boy, and yet he continued to make obnoxious jokes in the face of the danger. It must've been a Muggle thing, because no wizard would be that incredibly stupid.
"Where are they?"
"Where are who?" Xander asked, brow furrowed in fake confusion.
"The girl. Where is the girl?" Lucius growled.
"On a plane. Back to America." Xander answered with a smirk. He did an inner Snoopy-dance. He was telling the truth. The girl was on a plane back to America. Thus, if he had some kind of wizardly lie-detector, he would be telling the truth.
"Well, I shall have to see about that." Lucius answered in an icy tone. "But just in case you're mistaken, you should probably come along. Stupefy."
Xander's eyes widened as the blue blast flew down and hit him square in the chest. Slumping forward, the last thought that drifted across his mind was, "Giles is going to be ticked." Then...just blackness.
OoOoOoO
(a/n: Ta da! Another chapter! See what happens when I actually have a chance to update! I ACTUALLY UPDATE!
(and for reviewer responses, because I love all of you so much!
(Arano Honou: Thanks for letting me know about the bold. I actually write the entire story in bold because the font I use in Microsoft Word is prettier like that, and I can't stand sans serif font when I'm writing. I like pretty font. What can I say? Anyway, I like comatose readers. . And hang around to see what arises with the situation of death. –bounces- I love writing Ron. Even his dead was fun...in a creepy...morbid kinda way!
(Susan: Yeppers, I did see that episode. In fact, I have seen all of the episodes, as that's how many I own! As for bringing Ron back...well, I just don't see it happening. Frankly, he wasn't supposed to die, but it kinda happened anyway. And please do hang around; I really appreciate the review and commentary!
(IsiwaruOfCkaloatia: Yay! You came back! I'm so happy! Unfortunately, I must report my lack of conscious. I lost it in fifth grade when my favorite pencil was ruthlessly broken. I stabbed the breaker with the end with the eraser. And I'd do it again! Bwahaha. Hee, seriously, though. Lovely to hear from you again. Please keep reading!
(Ezmerelda: This takes place during Christmas break. .)
(Pamie884: Thanks for your comments. I'm so worried that I'm not getting the character, whenever someone comments on it; it just makes me feel loads better, so thank you! And I myself am getting fond of Wills and Harry! Sorry to say, though, Ron wasn't faking dead. So sad. Although it really would be a neat trick, though!
(Tina7610813: You have lots of numbers in your name... This is the update. I hope you liked it!)
(Scary Vampiress: OMG! I always call one of my best friends the evil wench. Seeing how she is, indeed, evil. Ooh, and a wench! Lewl. That comment made me laugh. A lot. Except for the Polgara demon part. . . . . Please don't hurt me? I can't update if you hurt me!
(sweetypie15: thank you, and perhaps angel and spike, for the review...and please don't die?
(SilkRose: Eep. You're glad Ron is dead! -gasp-. Hee. I'm not, actually. He is my favorite HP character. As interesting as it made the story (and on that point we definitely agree). I was sad to see him go, but it kinda just...happened. I didn't mean to? I'm so glad you liked the chapter! I hope that you like this one. But that's all for now.)
OMFG OHMIGAWD –DIES-. I HAVE THREE HUNDRED REVIEWS! GOOD ONES! You're all insane! I LOVE EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU! -does I got 300 reviews dance-. I could just die of happiness. You're all superfantabulous-faboo-phenominacular. Yep. So amazing, you don't even exist. Which, honestly, explains a lot. . Thanks everybody. Couldn't have made it to chapter two without you.