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Chapter Ten: The Burrow

Hermione was thrown suddenly down upon a very cold and very wet, almost marshy surface, a queasy and slightly sickening feeling rising from the pit of her stomach. Her head throbbed and she felt extremely disorientated, finding it enormously difficult to even attempt to stand, her hand still tightly clasped in her Masters was released and she was left to herself. "Get up." Came Ron's voice, sounding a little quivery himself, almost as if he had thrown up surreptitiously whilst she could not see him. She bent forwards slightly and pushed herself upwards, feeling Carla's delicate hand at her elbow, another by head, steadily untying the cloth that was currently obstructing her view. The two of them shook slightly, unsure of what to do next, only able to see the shadows of the Weasley family and Harry stood in closer proximity to them. Before they could enquire as to what they were supposed to do, both were pushed forward roughly, causing them to stumble, dragging their wet bodies as quickly as they could. There was little change to their newly open vision, the moon barely illuminating the hazily murky shapes before them, hiding in the mystique of the darkness. As the group moved forwards they stumbled cautiously through tall rushes and thin wisp like reeds, their feet squelching steadily beneath them, breaking through the silence, only accompanied by the nightly wind, the breeze whipping up and the shadowed light calling to them through the evening air.

"What happened to Grimmauld Place?" Harry cut through, asking Ron cautiously,

"No idea. Mum'll know, come on." Came a confused reply, hoarse and rasping, his breath billowing out in great plumes as he spoke. Carla pulled Hermione into her slyly, lowering her voice drastically and whispering,

"'Mione. Where are we?" Seemingly however, she had not spoken low enough as Ginny unexpectedly snapped and rounded on them suddenly, glaring tearfully, looking as though she was barely able to contain herself,

"Devon! That's all you need to know. Now shut up! The both of you! Get moving!" She was shaking slightly, looking as though she was about to dive for Carla and throttle her to death, but instead hastily turned on her heels and began half running away from them, out towards a tall shadow that was looming in the distance.

"We call it The Burrow. My home." Ron said flatly, feeling that they at least should be granted that knowledge, emotionlessly staring after his sister as she disappeared into the darkness and then back towards the two girls, "Get moving!" Hermione nodded hurriedly, and then made a move after Ginny, dragging Carla behind her as quickly as she could, not wanting to anger her Master in his unstable state of mind. Slowly, light began to illuminate their surroundings as they neared the large shadow, revealing a tall wonkily erected building. It was as they neared and the light from the almost shabby-looking house grew brighter, Hermione realised that they were walking through a large cornfield which was filled with various small ponds and swamps that had drenched their clothing causing their movements to be limited. Just to her right, beside the field, she could identify lines of high trees, a possible orchard contained within a sizable paddock which Hermione mused over, possibly a summer haven when the rays hit it in the height of the year. She had often heard Harry and Ron talk of this place, The Burrow, when they had assumed her not listening to them, assumed her oblivious to their trivial conversations. Her had always Master lived here, as had all six of his siblings and his parents, an old converted shack that had clearly not originally been built for such a large family. Master Harry had stayed here too, many times to enjoy the company of the Weasley family, to be joined to their family where his own had failed him. Hermione knew that Harry's real parents had been murdered when he was but a year old by the dark wizard Lord Voldemort, and had since been placed in the care of his Muggleborn mothers sister's non magical family, who had consequently made his life a misery, because of their pure hatred of magic. It was easy enough to see exactly why Carla's Masters family had despised magic so, now knowing herself the true extent of the evil that could be born into the magical world, and why Harry would want to move into the goodness that Hermione remembered as Ron's own mother. Now here she was too, somewhere in an area of the country she had never before stepped foot in, sodden and in the dark of the night, not knowing what she should expect, or if the family would be any different at home to how they were at Hogwarts. They were now close enough to the structure for her to see the house in more detail, looking to all of the several crooked stories attached to the main construction in various positions. Four or five chimneys dotted the roof of the house indicating that several of the rooms pertained fireplaces, Hermione presuming that the entire building was most likely held up by magic due to its infinitely crazy construction. Crossing the front of the house, a small yard that held a garage and a chicken coop, which obviously contained various sleeping feather animals, there was a small sign in the ground reading 'The Burrow' and as they wondered past and towards various hills they came to the far back end of the house, which was elucidated more so that the front, possibly indicating its more prominent usage. Here, only a small stone outhouse lay in the overgrown garden accompanied by a pond full of croaking frogs and unknown scuttling creatures that were busily running about in the dark. She felt Carla flinch a little beside her as she spotted these mysterious beings and moved in closer to Hermione, seeming a little frightened of these unidentified life forms.

"Ronald?" Came a somewhat soft and slightly worried voice, from a small door into the house which was surrounded by various wellington boots and an assortment of old cauldrons. A vague ghost of Hermione's past was stood looking at them, Ginny by her side, the youthful version of the woman next to her. "Oh Harry!" Molly held out her arms to embrace her son, who came forward with Harry and the other Weasley siblings, who all accepting hugs gratefully from the caring woman. "Oh?" She spotted Hermione and Carla out of the corner of her eye, who were hiding sheepishly at the back of the group, unsure of whether to move forwards and towards the house or to remain outside as the matter was dealt with by those it affected directly. Molly's eyebrows knitted together, thinking hard, seemingly looking back into her past after locking on to such a familiar face. Her eyes widened slightly and then opened her mouth a couple of times before she uncertainly asked, "Hermione?" The girl before her gave a slight nod to which Molly reciprocated with a large one, and then turned to Carla, who stood even further back, hiding cautiously behind Hermione, "And...?"

"Carla. She's..." Began Harry, feeling slightly embarrassed, struggling to find the appropriate words and apparently unable to complete his sentence adequately. "Well, she's..." Carla shifted nervously, not really wanting to aid her Master, now standing in line with Hermione, "My..."

"Slave. Skivvy. Servant. That's what she is!" Came Ginny, breaking through loudly, scowling at them slightly, "And her! That Granger girl, she's Ron's. What an unfortunate family we must be!" Hermione twitched slightly at her snide comments, resisting the overwhelming urge to throw her shoe at the young girl,

'Who does she bloody think she is?' She took a hold of Carla's arm and pulled her half behind her again, almost daring herself to glare at the youngest Weasley child, daring herself to lash out in the defence of her friend's dignity.

"Ginevra, this is not the time." Said Molly, appearing very uncomfortable at her daughters shameful outburst, "Come on everyone, inside now. You need to rest before we go and see your father tomorrow." She began to make her way back into the house, ushering a reluctant and still scowling Ginny as she went.

"Wait, Mum, why are we here? We were supposed to go to Grimmauld Place." Ron asked her hurriedly, catching her hand before she fully entered. She nodded gravely, eyes closed, not even turning to look at them as she spoke,

"I know. I received an owl, you're all needed here for tomorrow, and we'll be leaving for Sirius's tomorrow night." She drew a great gasping breath opening her eyes once more, "Come on now, inside." She instead now stood away from the door, dragging her daughter with her, and allowing the house to open to them. All stepped inside one after the other, Hermione and Carla cautiously stepping over the threshold, holding hands tightly. The interior of The Burrow was cosy and looked obviously well lived in, with a jumbled and cluttered array of furniture and trappings crowding the kitchen that they had entered. There was a large wooden table with room enough for eight chairs and a large fireplace similar to the one they had used to transport themselves to and from the Hogwarts kitchens and the boy's dormitory. A clock engraved with various times such as "You're late" and "Time to feed the chickens" was hung high upon the wall above the sink by the kitchen window, along with a ancient Great Grey Owl whom Hermione immediately recognised as Errol, her Master's family's owl that slightly resembled a moulting feather duster, to which she recalled him often hitting various objects during flight due to his depleted eyesight. Alongside him was a much smaller White-Faced Scops Owl named Pigwidgeon who usually had a hyperactive tendency towards the delivery of mail on behalf of Ron, though sometimes delayed the transaction through his constant need of showing off to the servants of the school. Both owls now dozed lazily by a mountain of unwashed dishes and various other crockery, Hermione giggling at Errol, supposing him glad of the rest from the annoyance of his counterpart. The group of teens continued forward, winding around the various kitchen implements, passing a small open door leading to a scullery containing only an old and obviously well used mangle. They entered a large living room filled mainly with a sofa and a huge armchair, seemingly cosy and warmed by the great fireplace by it. A wooden wireless set draped over a large chest of draws faced yet another clock that, rather than telling the time, indicated the status of each member of the Weasley family. Instead of numbers, there were various phrases such as "home," "school," and "work," along with nine hands, indicating where each was at any one time. Coming to a large winding staircase, Mrs Weasley took her daughter into her arms and turned to them all, "Come on now, all of you. Off to bed. We've got an early start for daddy tomorrow." She tried to smile, yet was barely able to even lift the corners of her lips, obviously strained and torn. Ron moved forwards and took Ginny from his mother, walking up a short flight and opening a door to their right and allowing her to enter, saying something in audible to Hermione and then closing it behind her. All followed as Ron proceeded to the second floor, where Fred and George departed to a single room, another room remaining untouched. Hermione knew from overhearing several times from her master that there were three other Weasley children, all of whom had left home, only one which she had known. Percy had shared the floor with the twins until hid abandonment of the family in favour of the ministry the previous year. They passed two more floors, each with only one door, which Hermione assumed belonged to her masters remaining siblings and parents, and as they finally entered the fifth floor finding a small door. Pushing it open slowly, Ron and Harry both entered sombrely, finding an extra bed tightly squeezed into the room and a few more comfortable looking blankets about the floor. The room itself was not overly small, though obviously cluttered, more furniture crammed into the tiny space than it would normally permit, the walls pertaining posters of a certain quidditch team, the Chudley Cannons, that of which Hermione had more often than not seen upon various items of her Masters clothing. The two boys trudged over to and then flopped indolently onto their beds, staring over at each other in a drowned silence.

"How did you do it Harry?" Ron finally broke the silence, looking over to his friend, his eyes squinting, almost closed entirely.

"I don't know. I just, I saw it in my head. It felt real, it was real. It-" Harry could barely find the words to express himself, stumbling with his thoughts and only mumbling at his friend, not even wanting to look into his eyes.

"Wait." Ron suddenly sat up and turned towards a hunched Hermione, who still stood at the door with her companion, "You. Granger. Make me a sandwich."

"A sandwich?" Hermione half shouted at him, in disbelief at the bemusing request at such an hour, "It's three in the morning! Who the hell wants a sandwich at-"

"Hermione!" She fell silent, looking at him intensely, gradually understanding his demand for a 'sandwich'. He seemed so sad to her, so small in the face of what was happening around him, unable to gain any kind of control over his life at current. She nodded to him, knowing he needed time alone with Harry, and then left, rather begrudgingly yet thoughtfully,

"You too." Said Harry sombrely, watching as Carla followed her fellow slave, closing the door quietly behind her.

~x~x~x~

"Dear? Hermione? Hermione, its morning. Come on. Up you get!" Hermione shifted uncomfortably, groaning as she did so, feeling half of her body temporarily frozen and numbed, the other only mildly chilled. Peeling back her eyelids groggily she came face to face with Molly, who was giving her a small smile whilst repeatedly chuckling and tapping various areas of her face in an attempt to rouse her.

"Madam Weasley? What...?" She looked around a little, noting that she was still in the kitchen, a buttering knife and loaf of bread still in her hand from the previous night, only partly prepared. "Oh no! I fell asleep? In the kitchen? I am so dead." She pulled an ugly face, imagining that of her Master as he scolded her for her misbehaviour,

"At least I was just sent for company not to do something." Came Carla's cheery voice who was sat perched upon a chair at the table, busily and happily polishing Harry's shoes, approving of her own handiwork. Hermione squinted at her a little; almost unsure of whether she should ask her next question,

"Carla? Have you been with me all night?"

"Of course!" Her eyes widened a little at her friends response, thinking possibly she had missed a vital point of their conversation,

"And you didn't wake me up when I magically fell asleep?"

"No. I didn't think I had to." Carla put down the shoe and tilted her head at Hermione in confusion as her jaw dropped at she waved her arms about madly.

"Carla! Who did you think would wake me up? The fairies?"

"Well, no, they live in forests and glades, and can't really talk, just high-pitched buzzing really, so they wouldn't really be able to get you even if you wanted them too. But you did look awfully sweet. Little bit of dribbling and everything!" Hermione's jaw dropped lower, hanging down widely as Carla continued with her polishing, obviously oblivious to the possibility of Ron's wrath and the anger Hermione could have faced. Before she could even begin to explain, all of the previously sleeping inhabitants of the house appeared, fully dressed, at the foot of the long set of winding stairs, yawning and stretching as they made their way around the kitchen table.

"Right!" Said Molly, rushing forwards, removing her apron and ushering her children and Harry towards the door, "We have to be quick, we've got the Deputy Minister coming around later with his family. We'll have to be back in time to get ready, and don't you look like that Ronald, you know we have no choice regardless of how hideous that family can be." She added, seeing the disgust appear on her youngest sons face and proceeding to wrap a long multicoloured, fluffy scarf around her neck before turning back towards the girls, "Oh, and Hermione dear, there's a couple of letters by the sink, Errol delivered them earlier. They're mostly intact, though I think he must have fallen asleep at some point during his flight." Hermione looked over, seeing at least three envelopes and nodding to her earning a small saddening smile. The cluster of bodies began putting on coats and shoes hurriedly, Harry taking the ones in Carla's hands and walking to the back door to join them. Ron stood straight as he pulled a jumper over his head and then looked to Hermione,

"You can clean the kitchen too. Especially if we've got visitors. You can do the room, and then de-gnome the garden." Then he turned from her and walked out of the door, steadily followed by the rest of his family and Harry. As the door swung shut the two girls looked at one another, sighing slightly, clearly not amused. Hermione made a move forwards and towards the sink and then took the letters carefully, looking them over quickly before opening them. The first, from her parents, asked if she was coming home at all over Christmas this year and how her grades were currently, which made her heart sink a little. She made a mental note to steal her Master's report, copy it and heighten the grades slightly before sending it to them. The second was from Kevin and Justin, wondering where both she and Carla had gotten to, along with an invitation to Muggle Mayhem when they returned to the castle. The final letter was from Viktor, upset that she had not turned up for their rendezvous and that her had missed her company, adding that Crookshanks had since taken refuge under his bed after following a spider under there and that she would need to collect his refusing stiff body whenever she could. Hermione giggled to herself and placed all three within the folds of her Gryffindor dress, smiling over to Carla,

"Party time soon!".

~x~x~x~

It had been well over four hours since the house had emptied of most of its occupants, yet the two remaining girls had only just completed the interior of the house, swiftly but tiredly moving towards the exterior. As they stepped out into the garden a scuttling was heard yet again as small brown creatures, of approximately one foot in height, with disproportionately large heads and hard, bony feet, busy munched upon various roots and plants that they were pulling swiftly out of the Weasley garden. "They're like...large potatoes with little sprouty legs," commented Carla making Hermione chuckle loudly, "Well...what do we do?" Hermione looked awkward, remembering how her Master had complained in their first year about having been given this task by his father up until her arrival, in which he passed his duties to her, now leaving her almost unable to answer Carla,

"Err, well. Master Ron did mention once that you have to take hold of them, swing them around until they are dizzy, and then throw them over the fence." Carla too now felt extremely discomfited, not able to comprehend why such drastic actions needed to be taken,

"Throw them? But that's cruel."

"He did say they're extremely stupid. They don't really know it hurts or how bad it is. If that's any comfort to you?" Carla shook her head trying to look away, not even wanting to confront the situation, but something else suddenly caught her eye sharply. The small shed they had seen the previous night, seemingly calling to her, which she immediately made a dash for. "Carla? Carla! No! Don't you dare, you stay away from that shed!" However, her friend had already thrown the door wide open, ignoring Hermione completely, allowing herself to be engulfed by numerous broomsticks which had been clumsily placed inside and had then collapsed noisily over her. Hermione rushed over worriedly and began pulling them off of her, trying not to entangle herself whilst putting them back inside of the shed, noting the various makes and models, their names engraved into the thin handles, "Shooting Star? These are the ones that first years use to learn how to fly." She said in awe, holding one up for Carla to see, who grinned eagerly, "Cleansweep Five?" She confusedly held up a battered piece of wood, that was cracked and peeling, the brush pulled back in places and frayed, "These are so old...Why would such a large Pureblood family keep such outdated and cheap brooms?"

"Shall we have a go?" Carla asked suddenly, a cheeky grin upon her face, eagerness within her voice that Hermione had witnessed very rarely.

"What? No! Do you want us to be murdered when we're caught?" Hermione was shocked; yes true she had always longed to fly, longed to feel the weightlessness beneath her, even if it meant only hopping upon the back of someone else's. She could remember all too clearly watching her Master in their first year. She had stood with Carla, Xena, Serena and Maria, along with various other Gryffindor and Slytherin servants, at the edge of the training grounds at the back of the castle, clearly able to view the Quidditch Stadium and the Herbology Greenhouses from where they stood. Madam Hooch, wearing a white button-down collared shirt and black necktie with the Hogwarts crest, under a cloak had pushed thick goggles up into her short cut spiky grey hair and stared at her class of first years with her piercing, yellow, hawk-like eyes.

"Class." She had boomed at her trembling students, each clinging to a Shooting Star broom, excited yet terrified of their first true encounter with a broomstick, "Welcome to your first flying lesson!" And it had simply spiralled out of control from there. They had all been ready to make their first attempt yet as the class had lifted off of the ground Neville's broom had shot from under him and into the forest, leaving him with a painfully broken wrist. As both Madam Hooch and Serena accompanied him to the Hospital Wing, Harry and Draco engaged in a scuffle in mid-air, clearly flying without permission, despite being within the grounds. She remembered how she had feared for Harry's safety and then his place at Hogwarts as Professor McGonagall had shrieked his name in outrage before dragging him alone back into the castle, leaving a smirking Draco to congratulate himself on his excellent flying and the power that his father exerted over the school. Yet this had not come, and thankfully for both Harry and Carla, he had not been expelled, instead promoted to the Gryffindor Quidditch Team, becoming the youngest Seeker in a century, feeling further connected to his father who had been a Chaser when attending the school himself. And now here they were, with the chance of experiencing this feeling of flight themselves, yet Hermione could not shake the feeling that they would not be able to escape either unharmed or uncaught, her careful demeanour seeping through. She watched as Carla ignored her words completely and put one of the Shooting Stars on the ground and held a hand out over it, confidently smirking to herself,

"Up." The broom barely moved, feebly twitching, causing her cheeks to burn a little. Carla cleared her throat loudly, speaking more assertively, "Up!" It moved a little more, rolling onto its side promisingly before flopping back to its original position and stilling.

"With force! Mean it." Hermione suggested, earning her a cheeky grin from her friend and a twinkle of her eye.

"UP!" The nose lifted slightly, hovering for a second, but simply stilling again in front of the frustrated girl. Carla gave a loud huff, disgruntled and disheartened.

"Oh, come here." Hermione stood and walked the few steps over to her, pushing her friend and holding out her own hand, "Up!" The broom shot into her hand where she grasped it tightly, feeling the smoothed wood beneath her fingertips. "See. Not too hard..." She was tempting herself far too much for her own liking, almost not able to trust herself, "But that's enough. Put them away, we have the garden to do." Carla looked upset and ready to argue back, wanting herself to master the grasping of a broomstick with the possibility of convincing Hermione that flying them would be a good idea, "Carla! Come one, please." She nodded solemnly, and began picking up the other brooms, sulking that she knew she would be unable to convince Hermione otherwise.

~x~x~x~

It had become cold and dark as the returning family reached the backdoor of the Burrow, pushing it open and traipsing inside noisily to see the two girls resting near the fire, upon the floor, dozing steadily, clearly exhausted from their days work. No sooner had Ron made his way towards them, there came a rap upon the front door and Mrs Weasley hurried over to open it, looking worriedly around and shooing her children into taking a seat around the table. "Oi! Granger!" Ron hissed at her, "Arse up!" He gave her a small kick in the back and she shot bolt upright, staring up at him and then scuttling to her feet, dragging Carla with her. "Get up! Faster!" He took her wrist forcefully and pulled her over to the kitchen table where everyone else now sat and pushed her behind his chair, allowing Carla to stand beside Harry, "Stand here and shut up. Say nothing."

"But I didn't even-" She began half sleepily, looking at him ludicrously,

"Shut it!" The front door opened slowly and Molly bowed her head low, allowing a man and a woman to walk in, followed by their son, Draco Malfoy.

"Mr Malfoy. Mrs Malfoy. Please, do make yourselves comfortable in our humble home." Lucius nodded and walked towards the nearest sofa distastefully, which he sneered at before seating himself, holding his pale, pointed face high, his cold grey eyes piercing the ceiling distastefully. Using a snake-headed cane within his hand he motioned to his wife to sit beside him, noting her resentment of the jumbled house and her obvious revulsion of its inhabitants. She did so, a tall, slim, and very pale woman, with blue eyes and long blonde hair matching her sons, who also moved to be beside his father, lifting his nose at everything and refusing to seat himself.

"Now then Molly. It is with regret that Arthur has been in such an unfortunate...situation. We offer our condolences, and hope that he return to health...adequately quickly." He paused looking around at the children, brandishing a rather cruel smile, "Daddy will be home soon children." His wife Narcissa tried herself to offer a smile, but failed miserably, only managing a tight scowl. "Now. There are other things I have come to inform you of. I'm afraid that Albus Dumbledore will no longer be Headmaster at Hogwarts; instead his position has been taken by Dolores Umbridge, whom you have no doubt already heard of through Weas-, Arthur. She is also taking Defence Against the Dark Arts this year, all in aid of the school, I'm sure you'll agree. Aside from that, When Albus fled, Rubeus Hagrid has also disappeared, and has been replaced by Wilhelmina Grubbly-Plank again, until we can find him. Alongside, I sadly report that Minerva McGonnagall will be away for a while, there was an...indecent...she was hit by several stunning spells..." Molly was nodding furiously, trying to hold back her obvious shock and frustration,

"Thank you Mr Malfoy. Most gracious for you to inform us. Perhaps you'd desire a cup of tea? Hermione?" Hermione's head shot up, suddenly looking extremely uncomfortable, not wanting to interact with the intruders of the house. After looking at Ron who gave her a careful, little push forward, she moved towards them.

"Master Malfoy?" She stumbled a little as she stood before them and then bowed deeply, "May I offer you a cup of tea?" Narcissa lifted her nose and turned away slightly, as if repulsed at the mere sight of Hermione, despite giving fleeting looks back at her, eyes full of pity.

"A Gryffindor slave?" Lucius turned suddenly to Ron whose back straightened immediately, "Well done young Mr Weasley, managed to hold on to one have we? Not had to 'set them free'?" He gave a small cold laugh and took Hermione's chin tightly in his hands, "What do you think Draco? Was this one worth keeping?" He turned her face towards his son, demanding an answer, a cruel smile still lingering upon his face,

"She's not so bad," Came his cold reply, looking her over carefully. He moved towards her and dragged her upwards to face him fully, pushing his face straight into hers, his eyes flitting suddenly to the side of her head and behind her, "But neither is she really. They'd need toughening a little. Or maybe more than a little..." He smirked at both Hermione and Carla and then returned to his father's side.

"Would you...like them Draco? Of course our friends would happily allow there slaves to become yours." Lucius maliciously smiled in Ron's direction, noting how his ears and cheeks flared scarlet, perhaps through embarrassment, perhaps through anger.

"We'll see how easy it is to have the others broken in first." Hermione's eyes widened considerably, almost pleading not to be taken with him, begging to be allowed to remain with her own Master, no matter the consequences.

"Yes...We shall...And we should go."

"Dear, aren't you forgetting something?" Narcissa placed a hand over her husband's arm, speaking very softly and very dangerously low, obviously intent upon leaving the building as quickly as she could.

"Ah yes...Molly," He turned to face her paled face and she forced a smile, bowing her head slightly. "You'll be pleased to know that Dolores has informed me that your son Ronald has been made prefect."


Japan's Arc Angel x