V
Neville watched Hermione's reaction. People always said that you could read someone's emotion in their eyes. This was nonsense of course, but often you could get an idea of what people were feeling by their expression- including the movements of the small, sensitive muscles around the eyes.
He watched Hermione's eyes widen slightly and guessed that she was surprised by his offer. The beginnings of a smile creased the corners of her cheeks, before frown lines developed on her forehead and her whole face tightened. He knew then that something about his plan worried her.
"I won't say I'm not flattered Neville. This is something that I would love to do- five years ago I'd have jumped at the chance. I- I always wanted to do something like this. Helping people. Not to mention getting rid of that bastard." Her face looked hard then. "But- I just can't. I have responsibilities now. What about April? She'd have to leave her school- her home. And how could I know she would be safe? Voldemort's probably still after us- she's Harry Potter's daughter!"
For a brief moment Neville had been caught on Hermione's reference to April's school. What was a six-year-old doing at school? Then he realised that Hermione must be raising the girl in the muggle way- as Hermione herself had been raised. That was where the girl stayed while Hermione was at work then…Well that was no issue, Hermione would soon realise that the girl could just as easily be raised in the wizarding way. And a six-year-old wouldn't have any problem going on a "holiday" away from home for a while- that was just Hermione's insecurity speaking. He wondered if either of them had any friends to leave behind?
"Hermione, Voldemort has no interest in the child any longer- or you for that matter. Harry's dead" she flinched, "and he's securely ensconced as Minister of Magic, with all internal opposition defeated. What does he have to fear from a young girl and a muggle-born exile like yourself? Whatever his faults, Voldemort never had any insecurities about his own power or position-"
"But don't you understand Neville? Even if he's not after us any more- and I'll never believe that- the work you're doing is conspicuous- by its very nature- and directly opposed to him. How can anyone involved in your operation be safe?"
"That's the whole point Hermione. Our safety is guaranteed because we make ourselves so conspicuous. Voldemort has been very careful to assume power legally and through the proper channels-" Hermione started to interrupt angrily, but Neville overrode her, "-or at least that's the appearance he's given to the rest of the world. You and I know the truth, and others, but people over here and in America want to believe the best- otherwise this becomes their problem- they have a moral obligation to get involved.
"He's not strong enough to take on other magical communities- at least, not yet- and so he can't afford to give them any reason to doubt him. Public opinion can only be lead so long- that's the basis we're working on anyway. The things we're saying about him- and we're saying them very publicly- aren't good for his image. But if he has us silenced it lends credence to what we say. He's in a dilemma. Yes, he undoubtedly wants us all dead or howling under the crucius, but any overt move against us would be showing his hand far too publicly. Not to mention that we've managed to convert many prominent foreign wizards and witches to our cause- who would continue our work even if we were unable- whom he can't afford to attack because it would all to easily be seen as an attack against their nations as well. So you see, you'd hardly be moving into a war zone."
Hermione sat silently for a moment. Too many emotions were warring within her for her to think rationally. She understood what Neville was saying- there was logic in it- but all her senses were screaming that to involve April in this would be foolhardy. It was her duty to protect the child- not to mention that she loved her- the thought of any harm coming to her was enough to make her insides clench in pain. However, at the same time a part of her- a part that had been silent for a long time now- was crowing that this would be a way to get at Voldemort. This was something she could do to get the bastard.
Hermione had never been bloodthirsty. When she'd first promised Harry to aid him in the fight, it had been out of a sense of duty and love for her friend. A way to stay with him and Ron as they satisfied their sense of righteous anger. Yes, she had wanted an end to the fear and discrimination, she'd been angry over Sirius' and Cedric's deaths, the deaths of those in the first war. The loss of Dumbledore had hardened her. Yet had it not been for Harry and Ron she would never have sought Voldemort's end. She had thought it was not in her nature to want to bring death to another living being, no matter how evil she knew him to be.
Then had come that awful day. Not only had she lost both Ron and Harry, but to loose them in such a way, to witness it, to be haunted eternally by the nightmares and the memories. To watch the successive deaths of others she knew and loved. Hermione had learned hate. Once the shock had passed, her anger, so white hot, had cooled and become a lump of something cold and hard inside her. At times she forgot it, distracted by softer emotions and day-to-day cares, but then her memory would be triggered and she would feel it swell inside her, a darkness that lurked on the edge of what remained of her soul, separate, yet intangibly connected with that other dark beast- her grief. It was mindless and it would never be sated. It had only one target: Voldemort and his supporters. And when she felt it move inside her, she knew that reason was not the only force that worked strongly upon her; some part of her wanted only to hurt- to hurt him- and would take any means it could. Hermione wanted Voldemort to die screaming in pain for what he had taken from her- and what's more, she wanted to be the one that killed him.
At times these emotions scared her and now was one of them- how could she risk April's happiness and safety for her own twisted desires. Killing Voldemort wouldn't bring Ron back. She had to live for today and the future. And Neville would have to wait for his answer. Wait until she'd had a chance to think calmly, rationally and without emotion- the way she had always done best.
"I need time Neville. It's too big a decision to just make it now. I need time to decide what's best. You can give me that can't you?"
"Of course you can have time. I never meant to rush you. I just wanted you to know that it could work. That I wanted you to come. Take as long as you like." He smiled in a manner he hoped was reassuring.
She smiled back. "Thankyou."
He sat for a moment wondering what to say now. One didn't easily drop bombshells and then make easy conversation out of nothing. "So… How did you manage to get inside my dreams anyway?"
She laughed. "Then it worked the way it was supposed to? I wasn't sure- I've never tried that sort of magic before."
Why now then? But she was carrying on with her explanation:
"I'll start from the beginning- it makes for a better story." Crinkles around the eyes signalled a gentle smile. She had always had a beautiful smile- especially once she'd had her front teeth shrunk. Something about it brought warmth to the person it was bestowed on. Ron had always spoken softly of that smile.
"Years ago at Hogwarts I came across a reference in a book about speaking through dreams. In this version a woman had spoken to her lover across a great distance when they were divided by fate. Naturally I thought nothing of it at the time- lovers are always doing the impossible for each other- but every now and then I would come across another reference to it. Always they were in the very oldest of scrolls, but the thing that piqued my interest was that such communications seemed to occur in many different situations and between many types of people. Lovers, yes of course, but also friends and relatives, people working together to achieve their aims- though their relationship was fairly impersonal- as orders from one wizard to another of lower rank or servants, even sometimes as threats between opponents.
"Of course once I'd noticed this, I simply had to figure out whether this was a real magic or not. And the first thing I deduced was that these accounts of dream speaking hadn't been recorded for their own value, but as part of a larger fabric of events. By which I mean, they were only included if their happening influenced whatever the record was about. This of course gave credence to their reality as most of the events they were supposedly involved in were real recorded wizarding history, often a series of events that could not realistically have come about were it not for either the dream speaking or some other currently unrecognised form of communication.
"So then I set out to find out how it was possible to speak to someone through their dreams. But no matter how many references I found- and some actively suggested the use of dream speaking in various situations- I couldn't find a single record of the method. Eventually I decided that once dream speaking had been such a common art that no long term records had been kept as it was assumed one would know how to do it.
"So then what was I to do? Well, I very nearly gave up at that point. But then I went home for the holidays and cleaned out my room. And as I did so I came across an old book of muggle faery tales I had enjoyed as a child. And in that book was a story about a princess whose dreams are haunted by an evil witch. And that's when it occurred to me that wizarding records weren't the only history of magic.
"Muggles never had magic, but up until the recent age they have always respected it- whether in love or fear- and it was almost as much a part of their lives as ours. Though what we know as magic and what they thought of as magic are very different things. But in some things they got it right. And so, with scarcely less difficulty than I'd had at school, I managed to piece together an idea of how the magic worked.
"Because dream speaking can only be performed by a witch or wizard with intrinsic magical ability- though muggles can be the recipient of it- muggles down the ages had written down how they understood it to be done in theory- because not everyone could do it and so it was regarded as an art that needed to be taught.
"Of course, a lot of it was very foolish nonsense by people who understood nothing at all of magic, but some of it seemed genuine- and fit with what I had managed to glean from magical accounts. Thus I deduced that one could contact another's mind and relay a comprehensive message by using gates- as they were once understood to be- in the fabric of our reality. Things like dawn and dusk and midnight- which is the moment one day switches to then next- the solstices and the first day of each season, the full and new moons, water in earthen bowls and fire burning wood. Windows and doors, mirrors and moments of great change like birth and death. Anything that unites two states.
"You have to look at a gate, at the time of a gate or being inside one and picture the one you aim to make contact with. Concentrate hard on their image and recite to yourself over and over in your head what you want to tell them. And you have to do it over and over. Tonight's the first time in nearly two months I won't have to set my alarm." She laughed.
"Other than that- I don't know how it works. I haven't experimented. Maybe it's possible to do it without the gates- maybe that's just superstition- or to increase the effectiveness with herbs. Maybe it gets easier or minds which are familiar with communicating can do it faster. I wonder if it's possible to communicate across time?" Her face had taken on that distracted, concentrating look he remembered from Hogwarts.
He had been listening in awe- amazed yet again at how Hermione's mind worked, now though, he decided to interrupt to ask a question. "Hermione- how come no-one else knows about this? I was raised a wizard and I've never heard of it. Why would an entire race just forget?"
She looked at him again. "Well, the only reason I can deduce is that it's so inefficient. Modern wizards are like modern muggles- we like instant gratification and things to work straight away. Why bother spending two months trying to contact someone if you can just owl them in a day or two, or better yet use floo powder or apparition to talk straight to them? Obviously this magic is very old. Probably it was in common use long before most of those methods were."
"Good point." Which raised another question. "But Hermione why did you contact me this way? Why not just owl me or floo or apparate?"
And her answer taught him all he needed to know about how she'd been living for the last six years. "Because he could trace that. The ministry of each country can monitor who uses the floo network- and Voldemort's bound to have spies in France- and the British ministry itself- Voldemort's own government- can monitor the apparition of British witches- that's how they catch underage law breakers. As for an owl- discounting interception- I'd have had to go into a wizarding centre to do that- same goes for flooing now I think about it- and anyone could have seen me there."
"Hermione, have you been so afraid of being traced these last six years that you haven't apparated or even seen any other wizarding folk?"
She nodded miserably. "How could I know if we were safe? He might have still been looking for us. What about April?"
"And what about the French ministry tracing your magic- or April's- you said yourself that Voldemort might have a spy there."
"I thought of that. This apartment belongs to a wizard who used to live here. He rents it to me- without realising I'm a witch- and lives elsewhere. The ministry think it's him casting the spells as they have this property down as belonging to him. They don't investigate, he doesn't find out I'm regularly using magic and April and I are safe."
Neville was impressed by the complexity of the plan. How had she ever thought of that? "Wow, I'm impressed."
"Yes it's not bad is it?" She smiled, pleased with herself.
"So all that explained then, why did you contact me?" The question he'd been dying to ask all day but was to polite to leap straight into without a lead up.
"Look at that." She pointed behind the sofa. He craned his neck to see what she meant. There was a bookcase there that he'd noticed earlier. At the time he'd wondered why Hermione, who was so organised usually, would allow the books on the top and bottom shelves to be crammed into such a disorderly pile, while two shelves were taken up with picture frames. He stood up and moved behind the couch for a closer look.
Every picture was of April- usually with Hermione sharing the frame with her. April and Hermione in front of the Eiffel tower, April in her school uniform, April and Hermione eating ice-creams in a café, April and Hermione having a snow fight in the park. And they were all muggle photos.
That was his first question. "Why are they muggle photos?"
Hermione looked briefly annoyed, though not at him. "I couldn't get wizard photos- that would have meant getting a wizard to develop them."
"Oh. OK then. Why so many up here?" There were at least two hundred, all framed, blocking one another from sight. The ones closest to the back were stacked up like cards against the wall.
"Because I wanted to make sure we had plenty- just in case." Just in case? What did she mean by that?
She read his expression. "I don't have any of Ron. Or Harry. Or Ginny. Certainly none of us together." Misery caused her face to crumple and moisture appeared in her eyes. "That's why I asked you to come- I was really hoping you- that you might have some. For April you see. She's never seen her parents."
Never seen her parents? There was an irony in that when he thought about it. He knew Harry never saw a picture of his parents either as a child. What would it be like never to know even what your parents looked like? Neville couldn't imagine it. But he fancied Hermione suffered more than April. All these years she'd had no picture of Ron to keep him alive for her? What agony that must have been. And to know she'd had only to contact her old friends to get one. Yet she'd waited until now- until April needed them- to ask.
"Why did you wait so long Hermione? Of course I have pictures I can give you." One or two. Yet he fancied he had an idea of where he might get more then Hermione could wish for.
"Oh thankyou Neville!" she said, openly sobbing now. "You don't know what it will mean to her!"
Perhaps not, he thought. But I can guess what it means to you. And he gathered her up in his arms and held her until the crying stopped.
Hermione felt better after she had cried for some time into Neville's shoulder. It was nice not to be alone with your grief- forced to hide it from a six-year-old child. Which she didn't always successfully manage. She felt embarrassed, yet relieved at the same time. Neville was a good friend, he wouldn't mind if she wet his collar with hysterics.
She hiccoughed slightly as she started to speak. "I'm- hick- sorry Neville. I'm all emotional this afternoon."
"That's alright Hermione. No harm done." His face was sympathetic, until he happened to glance down at his watch. "Oh! Oh dear- it's got so late! I'm awfully sorry Hermione, but I really do have to go. I have a meeting this afternoon. In about twenty minutes in fact."
Momentarily she felt her heart sink- this was so abrupt, perhaps she had discomforted him? "That's fine Neville," she said, managing to sound perky enough, "I'm just pleased you could stay this long. And, no doubt we'll see you soon anyway." He would be bringing her those photos. And she had to tell him her decision.
"Thanks Hermione." He said, sounding somewhat harried. "Listen, I'm awfully sorry to be rushing off like this. I feel terrible- it's just a really important meeting."
"Really Neville, it's no problem." She stood to say goodbye. "It'll give me some time to think about your offer." She stepped back to give him room to apparate.
"Yes, please do." He said, giving her a final hug and then drawing out his wand. "And Hermione? Please take into account that this is for April too. So that she can grow up free of threat and fear. So that she can go to Hogwarts when she's old enough." That was a point she hadn't yet thought of- "And it's for Ron and Harry too Hermione. They would have wanted you to do this. It's what you all dreamed of isn't it? Help me honour their memories. They gave their lives for this."