Chapter 7- The Aftermath

Harry did not say a word. His throat seemed oddly constricted and he looked up at the ceiling, sick with apprehension. The Death Eaters could not have gotten to Hermione, she is safe, he assured himself, yet he could not explain the horrible sinking feeling in his stomach. Ten minutes had passed, and still there was no sign of Hermione or Lupin. Suddenly, there was a popping sound and Harry could have cried out in relief, for it was Hermione.

"Hermione!" said Harry and Ron at the same time. "You're alright!"

She looked oddly flustered, and threw herself onto Ron's shoulders and began to sob uncontrollably. He looked shocked, but patted her head awkwardly. After that brief embrace, she drew away from him, and sat on the cushion, holding her forehead in her palms, shaking uncontrollably. She seemed to be grieved beyond expression of words.

Harry sat next to her, and said, "Hermione, is something wrong?"

She let out a stream of words, in which Harry could only make out, "Mum and Dad". Harry looked at Ron again, who was mouthing soundlessly like a goldfish.

"What happened?" he asked Hermione urgently.

"Mum and Dad," she said, being able to speak again, "they-they w-were subjected to the Cru-Cruciatus Curse and…" her voice died as she was engulfed by a fresh bowl of misery. Harry shut his eyes, as Neville's parents floated into his mind. Unless he was very wrong, and he had never dearly hoped he was, Mr and Mrs Granger had become quite like them.

"Are they at St. Mungo's?" Ron asked, in a hollow voice. Hermione nodded, tears threatened to roll down her cheeks.

"I'm going to see them," Hermione said. She stood up, a look of determination on her face.

"I'm afraid you can't, Hermione," said a crisp voice behind them.

It was Amanda. Her robes were singed in a few places, and she seemed to be limping slightly.

"Mrs Rosenay, I need to see them," Hermione cried, desperately.

"They're at St Mungo's and the Healers said that they can't examine them until after a day or two," she said in a soothing voice.

"Is there anyway I can see them?" she asked, her voice trembled in anguish.

"They do not allow visitors inside, it's no use." Amanda tried to console her, but she immediately flared up.

"I'm not any visitor, I'm their daughter!" Hermione said defiantly.

"I'm sorry, Hermione, but I'm afraid you can see them only tomorrow, not earlier than that," she said in the same soothing voice, but there was a note of strictness that made Hermione keep her silence on the matter.

"Mum, what about Uncle Remus?" Eliza asked quickly.

"He'll survive," Amanda answered shortly, making it sound as though Lupin was fighting death.

"When can I see him?" she added anxiously.

"I expect Nymphadora will be coming later," she answered in a drained voice.

"Right," Amanda said. She looked towards Ron and Harry. "About your registration today, I'm going to the Ministry to see if it can be postponed. Don't leave the house," she reminded them before she Disapparated.

Ron and Harry looked around helplessly at Hermione, but Eliza strode into the room where Amanda had gone to change her appearance before leaving for the Dursleys. Eliza returned with a glass phial in hand, it contained a clear, deep blue liquid.

"Here, drink this, Hermione," she said as she uncorked the phial and handed it over to her. Hermione looked at Eliza doubtfully, and was assured, "It'll make you feel better, trust me."

Hermione took the phial gratefully, and gulped it down. She murmured a soft 'thanks' in reply.

"I think you need to go to bed," Eliza said, looking at Harry and Ron.

Harry, Ron and Eliza hoisted Hermione up by her arms and helped her walk up the stairs. As soon as her head hit the warmth of her pillow, she fell asleep. Eliza conjured three chairs for each of them to sit. They sat down, and stared in different directions, not willing to talk to each other. They just watched Hermione, sleeping peacefully; oblivious to what had just happened to her parents.

Thoughts on the recent events ensured a rise in Harry's anger. Hermione's parents had been Muggles; that must have been the reason for the Death Eaters' attack. And it did not help that he, Harry, was their daughter's best friend. Just as he thought about this, a hot sick swooping sense of guilt overtook him. So, it came down to him. He must be the reason if Hermione's parents had been tortured to insanity, for he could not think of any other reason for it. It was his fault, as it always was. He covered his face with his hands, and closed his eyes. He did not know how many more innocent people would lose their lives before he finally defeated Voldemort. After what seemed like ages, Ron broke the silence.

"What did you give her?" he asked Eliza, almost rudely.

"It's just Cheering Potion," she answered, frowning at Ron. Her frown looked vaguely familiar to Harry, though he could not exactly determine whom she reminded him of.

"Cheering what?" he asked.

"Cheering Potion," she repeated. When they continued to look bewildered; she explained, "Sort of like a Cheering Charm."

"But then, why is she asleep?" Harry asked.

"Oh, I added a doze of Sleeping Potion in it," she answered, her face shining.

"Are you sure about this?" Ron asked rudely. "She looks funny,"

"I know what I'm doing," she replied shortly, looking thoroughly offended. She frowned at him, and Harry thought the frown looked vaguely familiar, but did not bother too much about it.

They sat again in silence, and Harry tried in vain to hold back the mental image of Mr and Mrs Granger lying in St. Mungo's, totally unaware of what was going around them.

"There you are," said a familiar voice.

Harry, Ron and Eliza turned around and saw Fred and George standing by the doorway.

"How're you Harry?" they asked, in unison. Harry nodded, unable to speak. They eyed Hermione lying on the bed, their faces wore identical frowns.

"What are you doing here?" Ron asked.

"Escorting," George said, "you two,"

"And, where are you escorting us?" Ron asked in a tone that mimicked George's own.

"To the Burrow, little bro'," said Fred in a sing song voice.

"Why should we go to The Burrow?" asked Ron, looking confused.

George smirked. "Poor Ron," he sang, "Someone put a Memory Charm on you?"

"Well," said Fred, smirking too. "If you remember we've got a brother named Bill, and if you remember he's getting married tomorrow."

"Yeah," said George. "Mum's having kittens. 'Little Bill's so grown up,'" he mimicked his mother's voice perfectly.

"Right," said Fred, pulling out a teacup from his pocket and holding it out to Harry and Ron.

"It's a Portkey," said George simply, in answer to their bewildered looks.

"I'm not coming," said Harry, Fred and George looked at him, surprised. He did not feel very much like attending a wedding, to leave Hermione all alone. He had to stay.

"What?" said Fred. "But Harry-"

"Please, don't force me. I don't think I could leave her-" he nodded at Hermione "-alone,"

There was silence and then George spoke up. "Right then, Ron, hold it."

And they were gone in a flash of colour.

"Well," said Eliza uncertainly, "shall I wake Hermione up?"

"No," said Harry firmly. "It would be kinder to let her sleep," Eliza nodded in response.

"I'm going to the Library," she informed him, "I can't just sit here and watch her. It's driving me mad."

"I'm coming along," Harry said. Anywhere to forget about what had just happened would be heaven to him. They went down to the Library, and while Eliza chose Olde and Forgotten Potions, Harry picked up a handsomely embroidered leather-bound book about the Dark Arts, The Light Against The Dark. He opened the book and felt his stomach turn, for inside was a neatly written note. It read:

From Lily Evans to Rosina Black
December 25, 1975

Questions sprang into Harry's mind: Who was Rosina Black? How had his mother known her? Where was she now, if she was alive?

"Eliza?" he called.

"Yes?" came her voice from inside.

"Who is Rosina Black?" he asked, his heart thumping.

She came out from inside and repeated, "Who, Harry?"

He showed her the note.

"Oh this," she said, frowning. "Rosina Black was one of your mother's friends at school."

"But- but I've never seen such a name in the Black's family tree," he said, suddenly remembering.

"You wouldn't," she said, the corners of her mouth twitching. "Because she was removed from the family tree,"

"Oh," he said. "Where is she now?"

"Dead," she said simply. "Ages ago."

"How do you know all this?" he asked, slightly suspicious.

"From Mum," she answered.

"And how did she get this book?" Harry asked still suspicious.

"I expect she gave it to Mum," she answered thoughtfully. After a slight pause, she said, "Oh, and be careful with this book, Harry; it's Mum's favourite."

Harry nodded, and she went back to the shelf. Harry watched her go. He turned the pages of the book without actually reading it. His mind was oddly blank, and he had read the same line for almost five times, before he snapped the book shut.

"Wotcher, Harry," said a voice behind him.

Harry turned around and saw Tonks. Her hair was mousy coloured, and she looked tired.

"Where's Hermione?" asked Tonks anxiously.

"She's in the bedroom," answered Harry.

"Oh, how is she taking the news?" said Tonks in a soft voice.

"Tonks," said Eliza, urgently. "How's Uncle Remus?"

"He's alright," said Tonks and her voice shook slightly. "You can visit him now. I'm here to take you all."

"Oh, that's great," said Harry and Eliza together.

"Yeah," said Tonks smiling at them. "But the problem is we can't leave Hermione alone."

"You need not worry about that," said a deep voice behind them.

It was Kingsley Shacklebolt. He was wearing a green T-shirt and blue jeans; in Harry's opinion, he looked quite like a Muggle.

"You can stay here, Tonks," said Kingsley. "I will take them to St Mungo's."

"Oh, that's nice of you," said Tonks gratefully.

"No problem," he said. "Anyway, I need to speak to Remus myself,"

"Right, come on then, both of you," he said placing a firm hand on Harry's shoulder and steering him. They climbed down the staircase, through the Hall, and came to the huge oak door. Kingsley whispered the password to it, and it sprang open obediently. They stepped out and the warm Autumn air whipped their faces. Kingsley flung out his right hand and the Knight Bus; a violet double-decker bus came into view.

"Welcome to the Knight Bus,-" began the grubby wizard in a grumpy voice.

"We know, we know," said Kingsley impatiently. "Three to St. Mungo's."

"Right," said the wizard wearily, "That'll cost you nine Sickles each."

Kingsley gave him the gold and they got inside the Bus. After a half an hour ride in which they either got knocked off their seats or onto one another, they finally reached the Muggle shop that led to St Mungo's. Kingsley whispered something to the female dummy in front, and he pushed Harry forward. He felt as though he was stepping through ice, and then, they were in the Welcome Witch room. They joined the queue in front of them. Harry looked around; the room was crowded almost to double the number compared to Harry's visits last year, and the problems seemed to become more serious than ever. There was a woman in front of them, holding a small boy in her arms, whose face was a deadly green, and the colour was slowly spreading to his arms and face. He appeared to be unconscious. And there was also an elderly looking witch, supported another wizard who looked like her son. She had great boils all over her face and kept muttering to herself. After about fifteen minutes of waiting, they finally reached the Welcome Witch.

"We're visiting Remus Lupin," said Kinsley in his deep voice.

"Remus Lupin…Remus Lupin…" muttered the witch distractedly, looking through the long list in front of her. "Spell Damage, Fourth Floor, Dilys Derwent Ward,"

"Thank you," said Kingsley, and beckoned them forward. They went to the Fourth Floor and entered the Dilys Derwent Ward. Harry was happy to see that Lupin was sitting up; when he saw them, he smiled brightly. His arm was supported by a sling, and there was a great purple slash across his cheek. The other three occupants of the Ward were a small girl who seemed to asleep, an elderly wizard who had bandages on his leg, and a witch who was unconscious.

"Uncle Remus, how're you feeling?" asked Eliza, her eyebrows knitted in concern.

"Fine," said Lupin as he smiled at them. "I could come home, right now,"

"Remus," said Kingsley, "What happened?"

"Hermione and I Apparated to her house to inform her parents about her registration. After about ten minutes, the Death Eaters Apparated, and they wanted to know where Harry was. When we refused to give any information, they began to attack. They put the Cruciatus Curse on Hermione's parents, and then they Disapparated when you lot arrived." Remus finished, a look of disgust etched on the fine lines of his face.

Harry felt a sinking sense of guilt as he heard Lupin. His earlier suspicions were correct, he was the reason. This confirmed that he was the sole reason for Hermione's parents' torture.

"Harry," said Lupin soothingly, as though he had read Harry's mind. "Don't go blaming yourself for what happened."

"Well, I am responsible for all this," said Harry bitterly.

"No one blames it on you, Harry," said Kingsley quietly.

"That doesn't mean I'm not at fault, does it?" asked Harry resentfully.

"Harry," said Lupin, reaching out to pat his arm. "Don't you understand that with or without you, we were going to be attacked? We're at war, Harry," he whispered.

"Did you see who the Death Eaters were?" asked Kingsley, interrupting them.

"Malfoy, Jugson, and Mulciber," said Lupin quietly.

No one spoke for a long time, and then a motherly-looking Healer came in.

"Mr Lupin," she said brightly. "You're up,"

"When can I go?" asked Lupin, attempting a smile.

"Well," she said, examining his arm, "tomorrow."

"Right."

"Well, we'll be off then," said Kingsley. "It's nearly time for my shift."

Though Eliza looked as though she wanted to stay a bit longer, she got up along with them.

"Take care, Uncle Remus," she said, and he kissed her forehead, and patted Harry's arm.

"We'll be off then," said Kingsley cheerfully, and they walked out. They returned to the house after an uneventful journey in the Knight Bus. Kingsley muttered something about having guard duty. Tonks left to report to the Ministry about the attack. Harry and Eliza spent rest of the day reading in the Library; Harry occasionally took notes of new spells and such, which would come handy in the near future. Time passed by in silence.

After his dinner, he went to bed and lay on it. He fell asleep soon enough, and he had a very strange dream, probably because he had eaten too much. He dreamt about Bill and Fleur waltzing around The Burrow, he could smell flowers and there was confetti falling on the top of his head, and then the dream changed. He was in Grimmauld Place watching Hermione wept over Lupin's dead body… Rosina Black smirked at him from her place on the Black's Family tree… Harry was trying to flatten his hair as he stood in front of the mirror, but his face suddenly changed to Neville's, and before he realised what had happened, Neville's round face was replaced by Eliza's thin face, and then, as suddenly as though somebody slapped him, he woke up. Though he was sure that it was just another of his stupid dreams, he raised his hand to his face, and felt it. It was just as it had always been. With that comforting thought, he slumped back into his pillows. The next day when he woke up, though, he remembered nothing of the dream.