Chapter 18

"Almost there," Bill said over his shoulder as he turned the corner and guided Hermione down a long narrow street lined with shabby houses. Their brisk walk had been considerably longer than originally planned. Hermione's already aching body was starting to protest, but she wasn't about to complain. It was her fault after all. She was the one that had followed the Muggle off the train, even though it wasn't their stop. She was the one that led Bill and Tonks out of the Underground Station and onto the street as she chased after him. She was the one that had emptied her pockets and offered to give the Muggle all the money she had if he'd let her borrow his mobile phone for 5 minutes. It was her own fault she hadn't thought to save a few pounds so they could get back on the train and continue on to the stop at Kings Cross. What should have been a leisurely 20-minute walk, had turned into a 90-minute jaunt across London. She only had herself to blame, but talking to Harry had been entirely worth it.

"What time is it?" Hermione heard Nymphadora Tonks ask behind her.

"10 minutes later then the last time you asked," Bill replied, not even bothering to look at his watch this time.

"Moody is probably sending out search parties as we speak," Tonks grumbled as they continued to march past one ramshackle house after another.

"We aren't that late," Bill retorted in what he hoped was a confident voice. They might not have resorted to search parties yet, but his mother was definitely waiting for them and she was not going to be happy about the delay.

"It's my fault," Hermione admitted, knowing full well what awaited them once they arrived at their destination. "I'll take the blame."

"Mum has a bit of a blind spot where her girls are concerned," Bill informed her. "Doesn't matter what you tell her, it will still be my fault."

Hermione snorted. She couldn't help it. He sounded exactly like Ron. She smiled to herself as she remembered the day he had lamented to her and Harry about how his mother would hold him responsible for Fred and George leaving school. It wasn't as if he could have stopped them. Any more then Bill could have stopped her from jumping off the train. She hadn't planned it and she certainly hadn't given him any warning. When the Muggle man in the business suit had walked past her and exited the train, his mobile phone to his ear, she had acted on impulse. She was up on her feet and out the door before Bill could so much as pull his wand.

Looking back on it now, Hermione realized it was rather a stupid thing to do. Those doors don't stay open for very long. Bill and Tonks could have easily been stranded on the train. Of course if that happened, one of them would have blasted the door clean off in order to get out. What a mess that would have been. Even so, I could have lost them in the crowd. What was I thinking? she asked herself as she tried to keep pace with Bill, who marched on ahead of her seemingly oblivious to the type of neighborhood he was leading them through.

Not that Hermione was paying all that much attention herself. She was too caught up in her own thoughts to concentrate on her surroundings. Not that it really mattered. Each house they past was more run down and dilapidated then the next. After a while, the peeling paint, broken windows and neglected yards overgrown with weeds all sort of blended together. The graffiti was new though. The freshly painted jagged letters covering the brick walls and fences caught her attention for a moment, but the words were mostly unintelligible, and she quickly lost interest.

I'm NEVER going to live this down, she told herself miserably as she thought back on how she had been forced to escape Diagon Alley. And she had been forced, there was no doubt about that. Fred will tell Ron and... even worse... Ginny. Oh! It's going to be horrible. I really shouldn't have teased her about Harry.

....................



She had been reluctant to leave the relative safety of the twins' shop once she arrived. She hadn't wanted to face all the people milling about doing their shopping. Someone was bound to recognize her the moment she stepped foot in public. The attack was front-page news after all.

The Daily Prophet had christened her 'The Girl Who Escaped' in the morning edition. Not that she'd actually read about it herself. She had still been curled up in bed with Ron when her copy of the Daily Prophet was delivered. Mrs. Weasley had paid the delivery owl herself, glanced at the headline, and then tossed the paper in the trash where it belonged. Of course Ginny had fished it out of the bin the moment her mother's back was turned. She managed to read half the article on the front page before Mrs. Weasley discovered what she was doing. She had promptly taken the paper away from her daughter and destroyed it, but the damage had already been done. The moment both her parents were out of the house, Ginny had gone straight to Hermione and told her what she'd read.

The article itself, while long, seemed to have very little factual information. With no legitimate facts to convey, they had fallen back on Rita Skeeter's old material and reported that Hermione's 'longtime romantic involvement' with 'The Boy Who Lived' was the motivation behind the incident. Viktor Krum had been cast as the ultimate villain. Ginny and Hermione had come to the conclusion that Fudge most likely concocted this version of events himself to make it appear as if the Ministry had the guilty party in custody. In his version, Krum was a jilted suitor who had tried to come between Harry Potter and his steady girlfriend while the two were competing in the Triwizard Tournament. Unable to sever the bond between the couple, Krum joined up with Harry's enemies and together they plotted their revenge. But the plan had gone awry. First when Krum was captured and then again when Hermione managed to escape from his Death Eater cohorts.

Having discussed all this with Ginny before her nap, Hermione wasn't really all that surprised at how incensed the Minister had become when she insisted that Krum be released. Not that he had much of a choice. If he didn't retract his story, Hermione would have started giving interviews and told everyone who was really behind it all. While Fudge could no longer deny that Voldemort was back, he was determined to downplay it as much as possible.

Hermione had just been contemplating where Fudge was going to place the blame this time around, when Fred startled her out of her thoughts by grabbing a pointed hat made of some sort of lurid pink material and thrust it at her. Initially, Hermione had been puzzled. She stared at the hat in silence as she took in the hideous lime green ribbon and the ostentatious yellow feathers. Then with a gasp of horror, she realized what it was and started to protest.

Fred had simply laughed at her distress, so she had tried to appeal to Bill. She informed him that she'd rather face an entire horde of Death Eaters then walk down the street in a Headless Hat. Rather than listen to her, he took the revolting thing out of his brother's hand and plopped it down on her head.

Bill turned another corner and Hermione managed to follow him, even though her mind was elsewhere. She could feel Tonks walking right behind her and knew the young Auror was alert for any signs of danger, which left her free to contemplate other things. Luckily her companions weren't looking at her face and neither of them could see the blush spreading across her cheeks as she remembered what happened next.

She had whipped the hat off her head so fast, that it didn't even have time to vanish. Feeling like a complete idiot, Hermione had thrown it back at Bill and tried to use reason to get out of wearing it. Unfortunately, she still wasn't quite sure how, Fred had outsmarted her. In a way, that was more humiliating then the fact she ended up wearing the blasted hat.

Where did I go wrong? she asked herself as she thought back on the turn the conversation took next.

When she had pointed out that being headless would only draw additional attention to herself, she had been certain she'd prevail. How could anyone argue with the logic of that statement? Bill had wavered for a moment, and appeared to come around... and then Fred took control of the situation. Before Hermione even knew what had happened, Fred scooped up as many Headless Hats as he could hold and ran towards the door.

"Just give me 10 minutes, and this place will be swarming with headless kids," he had shouted back over his shoulder as he disappeared.

To her absolute horror, he returned in less then 5 minutes and informed them that he had given the hats away to anyone willing to 'promote' the store for the next half hour. There were now at least 5 or 6 headless people wandering up and down Diagon Alley with instructions to send anyone that asked to Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes.

To make matters even worse, Fred had popped over to Madame Malkin's Robes for All Occasions and borrowed a cloak so Hermione could cover up her muggle clothing until she reached the Leakey Cauldron. She had no logical arguments left. 'It's humiliating' wouldn't work anymore than 'because I don't want to' would and she knew it. In the end, she had no choice but to put the horrid thing on and follow Bill to the Leaky Cauldron.

She hadn't been able to get the blasted thing off her head fast enough, but the moment she entered the pub and tore the hat off, she'd almost wished she hadn't. The hush that fell over the room had been almost instantaneous. Suddenly all eyes were on her. The adults at least had the good grace to stare at her silently. It was the children standing over by the fireplace about to floo home with their mother that drew her attention. One of the little girls actually pointed at her and then leaned over and started whispering furiously with her sister. As if their hisses had broken a silencing spell that had been cast over the room, people started turning to their neighbors and conversing in low voices.

Tonks had taken some of the attention off Hermione when she jumped up from a table in the corner and approached them. In her haste, she had tripped over a chair leg and staggered sideways into a man sitting on a barstool. The collision prevented her from falling to the ground, but she managed to clip his drink and upended it into his lap. With a loud curse, the man jumped to his feet and the glass hit the floor where it shattered. Without thinking, Tonks grabbed a towel off the bar and began wiping the man's robes as she attempted to apologize.

Hermione and Bill had started at her right along with everyone else. It was one of those scenes you didn't want to watch and yet at the same time you just couldn't look away.

"TONKS!" Bill had cried out, when he finally found his voice.

"What?" she had asked as she turned to look at his startled face.

Bill didn't answer her. He just stared at her in disbelief. Tonks gave him an odd look, and then followed his gaze down to her hand.

"OH MERLIN!" she cried out when she realized exactly where she was rubbing the man.

Her face instantly flushed a brilliant shade of red that clashed violently with her bright blue hair. "I'm soooo sorry," she had moaned. " I didn't mean to... OH!" she cut off abruptly when she realized she still had the rag pressed firmly against his crotch. "Sorry," she muttered again as she yanked her hand away, let the rag drop to the floor, and reached for her wand.

"No!" the man had protested as she pointed it at the wet spot on his robes. "I'll do it," he added, covering the spot with both of his hands.

Tonks merely looked at him for a moment and then lowered her wand. "At least let me buy you another drink," she shouted after him as he ran down a darkened hallway towards the loo.

....................

"There," Bill said as he pointed just ahead of them at the neglected square of yellowing grass opposite the houses of Grimmauld Place.

"I thought it was supposed to be unplottable," Hermione said as followed him up the street and watched him mount the worn stone steps leading to the battered black door.

"It is," he replied as he glanced at the silver serpents twisted together in front of him. For a moment Hermione thought he was going to reach out and use the doorknocker. "I've spent years navigating my way through Egyptian tombs," Bill continued as he pulled his wand out of an inside pocket. "You didn't really expect me to get us lost on the streets of London, did you? This was child's play compared to some of the places I've had to find."

"They asked me... about it," Hermione said quietly. "Where the headquarters was," she clarified when Tonks glanced at her.

"You didn't have to lie to them," the young Auror replied, making it obvious that someone had already shared the details with her. "Even if you had told them flat out where it was located, they wouldn't have remembered. You might as well have been speaking Gobbledegook, for all the good it would have done them."

"Then why did she ask?" Hermione inquired.

"To test your loyalties," Bill replied as he tapped the door once with his wand. "To see what you were made out of," he added, stepping away from the door the moment he heard the metallic clicks that reverberated on the other side.

"Where have you been?" Mrs. Weasley hissed as she threw the door open, taking all three of them by surprise. She appeared so quickly, Hermione suspected that she had actually been standing on the other side waiting for them. Rather than linger for a response, Mrs. Weasley ushered the trio inside and closed the door quickly behind them.

"Well?" she demanded, her hands on her hips as she stared down her eldest son. "You should have been here over an hour ago," she added, louder then she should have. "What happened?"

Without warning, the moth eaten velvet curtains covering Mrs. Blacks portrait shot open revealing the enraged old crone. "FILTH!" she shouted as she brandished her fists at Bill. "SCUM! BE GONE FROM THIS HOUSE!"

"DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW WORRIED I'VE BEEN?"Mrs. Weasley shouted, not in anger, but so she could be heard over Mrs. Black's rant.

"BLOOD TRAITORS! DIRTY HALF-BREED!" Mrs. Black's image added the moment she noticed Tonks.

"Good afternoon to you too, Auntie," Tonks replied as she stepped forward and attempted to pull one side of the curtains closed.

Mrs. Black's eyes bulged out at being spoken by someone she clearly viewed as an inferior and she lunged forward in the canvas, her claw like hands groping as if she were trying to wrap them around Tonks neck. "YOOOU!"she shouted as she froze. Her yellow skin becoming pallid as she spotted Hermione. " MUDBLOOD! HOW DARE YOU SULLY THE HOME OF MY FATHERS WITH YOUR VILENESS?!"

"YOU MUST BE STARVING!" Mrs. Weasley shouted at Hermione, her back to the portrait, purposely ignoring it. "WHY DON'T YOU GO DOWN TO THE KITCHEN, DEAR? I LEFT YOUR LUNCH OUT FOR YOU."

"HOW DARE YOU DEFILE THESE HALLOWED HALLS WITH YOUR TAINT?!"

"GIVE IT A REST, YOU OLD HAG!" Bill cried as he pushed Tonks out of the way, grasped both sides of the curtains, and stood directly in front of the mad woman trying to claw her way out of her portrait. "This isn't your house anymore," he stated with a smirk. "Sirius left it to..."

"BILL!"Mrs. Weasley cut him off. "Stop taunting her and just close the curtains," she added in a normal tone of voice.

It took a great deal of effort, but Bill and Tonks managed to draw the curtains back over the portrait.

"Calm down, Mum," Bill said before the barrage of questions began again. "Nothing happened," he added as they headed down the hall towards the kitchen. "We just had a little trouble with those underground trains the Muggles use."

"What kind of trouble?" Mrs. Weasley asked suspiciously.

"It was my fault," Tonks replied. "I just had to try those moving stairs and...."

"Actually, it was my fault, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione said, cutting Tonks off. "I jumped off the train at the wrong stop."

Mrs. Weasley stopped at the head of the staircase leading down to the basement kitchen and glared at her son accusingly. "This is how you watch after your... after Hermione?" she demanded. "Merlin knows what might have happened to her."

"He didn't know I was going to do it," Hermione said in Bill's defense. "I didn't know I was going to do it," she added truthfully. "I know it was stupid, but I wasn't thinking clearly. When I saw that Muggle talking on his portable phone I just reacted. I had to catch him. I had to use his phone. I had to talk to Harry. I wanted him to know I was ok. I knew if he could just hear my voice..."

"You... talked to Harry?" Mrs. Weasley said, instantly forgetting her anger.

"I was worried about him," Hermione stated. "He's all alone, with no one to talk to and nothing to do but imagine the worst."

If Bill didn't know any better, he'd swear that Hermione had just pulled one over on his mother. One moment she had been worried about her and upset at him, and now... she was completely focused on Harry. They were worrying about him...together. If he hadn't seen Hermione chase down that Muggle; if he hadn't heard her conversation with Harry, he'd be tempted to doubt her sincerity.

"I knew if I could only speak to him... make him see it wasn't his fault...." Hermione continued.

"Of course you were worried about him," Mrs. Weasley replied as she reached out, placed her arm around Hermione's shoulder, and escorted her down to the kitchen.

....................

"What just happened here?" Tonks whispered to Bill as they stood at the head of the stairs, gawking at the now closed door.

"I wish I knew?" he replied with a chuckle.

"You don't think she actually planned that, do you?" Tonks asked.

"I'm not sure," Bill admitted, "but I wouldn't be all that surprised if she had. If she did...."

"You owe her one," Tonks laughed.

"Yeah," he agreed, laughing with her. We're lucky she's on our side.

....................

"Are members of the Order still 'guarding' him?" Hermione asked as Mrs. Weasley ushered her into the kitchen.

"Don't worry, dear," she replied as she steered Hermione towards the table. "Harry understands why he needs to be there now. It won't be like last year."

"Does he know they are there? Are any of them talking to him?" Hermione inquired as she watched Mrs. Weasley retrieve a platter of sandwiches off the counter and set it down on the table.

"You need to eat," Mrs. Weasley informed her.

"He's not ...dealing with this very well," Hermione admitted, ignoring the food on the table. "He needs someone to talk to," she continued, feeling more then a little guilty about what she was doing. She had told Ron she'd try not to mother Harry, and here she was doing it again. "Or someone to just spend some time with him so he doesn't feel so alone. Maybe Professor Lupin could check in on him every once and a while," she suggested. "They might be able to help each other. I don't know... maybe Ron is right," she grumbled more to herself than to his mother.

"And what does Ron think?" Mrs. Weasley asked.

"That Harry needs some space. That he'll talk about it when he's ready. But what if there is no one there for him to talk to when he IS ready? It isn't good for him to bottle it all up inside and let it fester."

"No it isn't," Mrs. Weasley agreed.

"I'm not suggesting we force him to talk. Ron is right. He will open up when he's ready. But he shouldn't be left on his own all summer either. He needs to know there is someone there for him, even if all they do is sit beside him and keep him company."

"I'll talk to... OH FOR HEAVEN SAKES!" Mrs. Weasley cried loudly as a cloud of soot came billowing out of the fireplace. "THAT BLASTED OWL!" she shouted as Pigwidgeon emerged from the dust and shot up into the air, chirping merrily as he circled the room above them. No longer brown, but covered in black grime, Hermione would have taken him for a bat if it weren't for his large yellow eyes and the letter dangling from one of his legs.

"PIG?" Hermione said in surprise as the tiny owl spotted her and landed on her shoulder. "You might have gotten stuck in there, you know?" she reproached him as she reached for the letter. "And what if there had been a fire?"

"Your letter is on the counter," Mrs. Weasley stated as she attempted to grab the tiny owl sitting on Hermione's shoulder. Pig saw her coming and launched himself out of reach before her hand closed around him. "That one is for Harry," she explained as she eyed the twittering owl zooming around the room excitedly, "but he won't deliver it. I've put him out three times," she said in exasperation, "but he just keeps coming back."

Hermione was only half listening as she tore Ron's letter open and gazed down at his hurried words.

Hermione-

It's a madhouse here. Fred's trunk just exploded. Dad and George are busy trying to sort it all out so I slipped off while they weren't looking. Dad says we probably won't get there until sometime tomorrow. Mum and Bill are going to stay with you though. I sent Pig on ahead so you could write to Harry. The feathery little git better still be there when you arrive. I added a letter of my own for Harry, but I specifically told him NOT to deliver it UNTIL he has yours too.

See you sometime tomorrow.

Ron

P.S.

Stay away from Kreature. There's no telling what he'll try now that Sirius is gone. Actually, now that I think about it, I want you to sleep in my room. He may have done something to yours. I'm not joking. And BOLT the door when you are alone.

P.P.S.

Pig is supposed to come back to you after he's made his delivery. You should probably remind him. I'll have my hands full hauling your mental cat clear across England. You have no idea how hard it was getting him into that carrier again. The little bugger actually drew blood this time.

"It's all right, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione said as she set her letter down on the table and grabbed a large bowl off the dresser. "He's just doing what Ron told him to do," she explained as she took the bowl over to the sink and filled the bottom half with warm water. "Come here, Pig," she ordered and then snatched the owl up off her shoulder the minute he landed so she could remove Harry's letter. She dropped the letter on the counter and then placed the small owl on the rim of the bowl. "You better clean yourself up," she said sternly. "You can't go to the Dursley's looking like that. You'll make a mess and get Harry in trouble. You can have some of my sandwich when you're through," she added when he hopped into the bowl and ruffle his feathers. "Mrs. Weasley, do you have any parchment?" Hermione asked. "I promised Harry I would write him as soon as I got here."