Chapter 13
Dinner that night had gone as well as it could have, given the circumstances. George seemed genuinely happy for Charlie to be getting back to his work to Hermione's relief. Molly, of course, was in tears but Arthur gave Charlie an understanding smile as he patted his wife's back in comfort.
Molly wiped her eyes as the rest of them ate in silence. Even Percy, who would normally prattle on about Ministry business with Arthur, was silent. She sniffed loudly before finally speaking.
"Well, I knew you would go of course. It's just a shock so soon is all. Hoped maybe you'd finally settle down. Don't let me ruin your supper now, I made pie for dessert." She waved Arthur off and floated a few delicious smelling pans over to the table from the counter. That was all the permission anyone needed and everyone dug in in earnest.
After eating Hermione stayed to help Molly with cleaning up. Normally she avoided Molly these days, as her mothering could be suffocating, but with the number of people in the house slowly dwindling she felt the overwhelming urge to reach out to the family matriarch. Molly watched her clear the table, set the dishes to wash themselves, and pack leftovers in the fridge with a few flicks of her wand and nodded approvingly.
"You're much better at household charms than most of my lot" Molly said with a wink at her as Hermione finished and took stock of the room.
"None of them can be any worse than Harry and Ron." Hermione replied with a grin, remembering their feeble attempts at it during their hunt for horcruxes.
"You'd be surprised" Molly chuckled and then leaned towards her with a mischievous smile "Let's just say Percy didn't get top marks in all his exams."
Hermione was shocked into open laughter at that, imagining poor Percy failing anything. Before she knew it she was imagining his eyebrows singed off failing to magically cook and she had doubled over laughing so hard she was in tears.
Molly was laughing too, and when they both had finally settled down the older woman poured them both cups of tea and they sat at the freshly scrubbed table. Hermione didn't know what it was, but tea always tasted better when Molly made it. She savored it as the older woman settled in, looking her over. She had the sinking feeling the tone of the conversation wouldn't stay light and cheerful. She decided to stave it off as long as possible and let Molly be the one to break the warm silence between them.
Unfortunately Molly wasn't one to beat around the bush, who could be with seven children? Especially when there were so many troublemakers among them. While Hermione adored her, she was also very intimidated by the powerful witch who had managed to take down Bellatrix. So she took a deep breath as the motherly woman in front of her began to speak.
"Thank you for helping Hermione, you know you don't have to trouble yourself." she said.
"Oh, it's no trouble Mrs. Weasley, I'm sorry I haven't been more help lately actually." Hermione replied sheepishly, ashamed of how much she had avoided her.
"Now now none of that," Molly tutted shaking her head, "You help my George plenty as well as keeping your own space clean which is more than I can say for some of mine. And please, you're grown now, it's Molly dear."
Hermione smiled.
"I'll try, but you've always been Mrs. Weasley to me so it may take some time."
"Of course dear, I know it's a transition. You've become such a lovely young woman though, I'm proud to consider you part of the family. Mrs. Weasley is just too formal for my taste."
She wanted to reply but Hermione found she could only nod. The words made her heart soar but also reminded her painfully that while she had found a place in this family, it wasn't really her family. Her family was in Australia, unaware she even existed.
"When will you visit them next?"
Molly's question shocked her. Could Molly read her mind? Was she just that obvious? It didn't matter at this point. The question was still there. And truthfully, she had no answer for her.
"I don't know" she finally said, with a slight shrug of her shoulders and a sip of her tea.
Molly reached over and patted her hand, holding it in her own.
"I could arrange the portkey again for you, I have to go anyway for Charlie," the older woman offered.
Relief washed through Hermione and she felt the tension in her shoulders ease. She couldn't bear to go the Ministry these days. She was always swarmed with reporters and if that wasn't bad enough Kingsley or some other department chair always managed to corner her and offer her job after job. It was so draining to even think about.
The last time she had gone had been to attend the memorial service for those lost in the war. It was, for her, an emotional event. But for the Ministry and the press, it was nothing more than propaganda and she was nothing more than a prop.
So when Molly had offered her a few months back to arrange a visit with her parents she had leapt at the idea. She never spoke to them, but even being near them and being able to physically see that they were okay was enough to abate some of the ache in her chest. The Weasley's were some of the few who knew what really happened to her parents and Molly in particular had been moved by her sacrifice.
"Thank you Mrs-I mean Molly that would be wonderful, truly."
Molly smiled brightly and sipped at her own tea, obviously pleased to have correctly guessed her hesitation. She set the cup down, now empty and with a flick of her wand set their cups to join the rest of the dishes.
"Now, when would you like to go, before the holidays I'd assume, but how soon? And how long would you like to stay?"
Thinking back to what George had told her about training the new hires and stocking up for the holiday season Hermione quickly calculated how much she could spare and when.
"I think, and I'll have to double this check with George, but mid-November should work the best. At most I think I could take a week."
Molly nodded, smiling and then suddenly she seemed to be thinking very hard, her head cocking to one side.
"That reminds me dear, George showed me the sketches you made, brilliant of course, but that flower..." Molly muttered a summoning spell and a quill, ink, and parchment floated in from the study.
"Oh, Molly it's just an idea, I doubt it would actually work-" she stuttered out, surprised Molly was so invested in the shop when just a few years ago she had been so against the business.
"No no I think you're onto something. I just remembered a case Bill told me about when we were in Egypt. A tomb that wiped the memories of those who entered. There were half a dozen Muggles affected as well as a handful of wizards but they managed to right it all in the end. I don't remember the details though." She trailed off as her quill scratched along the parchment, her elegant handwriting mesmerizing.
The only thing Hermione could hear was her own heartbeat thudding in her ears. Immediately after the war she had attempted to reverse the memory charm. She had even involved St. Mungo's. But like so many before, the effects weren't able to be reversed. She had resigned to loving them from afar and now hope dangled in front of her like a cruel carrot on a string.
"Hermione, Hermione dear"
She snapped out of her thoughts to Molly looking at her with that motherly worry that could be so suffocating. She blinked quickly trying to remember what she had said but all she could remember was that Bill might have an answer.
"Do you mind if I write to Bill, about the case?" the older witch asked, concerned.
Hermione had never answered a question so quickly in her life, not even in class.
"Please do."
When the letter was finished Hermione raced up the stairs to Percy's room. She didn't trust Errol to make it all the way to wherever Bill was stationed and this letter had to make it to it's destination. She took a deep breath before quietly knocking on the door.
Percy answered the door quickly, a quizzical look on his face when he saw her.
"Hermione, how can I help you?" he asked. He was still dressed for work though he had removed his jacket and tie as well as rolled up his sleeves, undone a few buttons, and untucked his shirt. Besides the rare few times Hermione had seem him in pajamas, she wasn't sure she'd ever seen him so casually dressed. In fact if she hadn't seen him in pajamas she might be convinced quite easily he slept in a suit.
"I was wondering if Hermes was home," she stated, trying not to peer over his shoulder in her eagerness.
"Ah, I see." With a curt nod he stepped aside, allowing her into his space. He strode across the room after her, expertly retrieving the majestic screech owl from his cage. The bird stretched his beautiful gray wings and squawked as Percy fed him a treat and stroked his head and back.
Hermione quickly attached the rolled parchment to the owl's leg when Percy gave her the okay. She gazed into the intelligent eyes of the owl as she spoke, careful to be very clear in her instructions.
"I need you to take this letter to Bill Weasley. You know where to find him?"
The bird ruffled, as if he was upset that she would even think otherwise.
"Good, it's very important he gets this quickly. Will you wait for him to reply? If it's okay with Percy?" she turned now to see if he would approve. He didn't seem particularly happy but he gave his permission.
"Thank you Hermes, you're the best." She stroked his feathers and he seemed pleased by her praise. When she raised her hand from his back Percy walked him to the window and he soared off into the night.
Hermione couldn't help it, she quickly ran up to Percy and wrapped him in a crushing hug. She barely reached the middle of his chest but she didn't care.
"Thank you, you have no idea how important this is to me."
And Percy, who had seemed upset by the interruption, slowly softened and patted her on the back.
"Anytime Hermione."
She left his room then, thanking him profusely as she went. As she lay down in her bed she opened the drawer of one of the bedside tables, pulling a picture of her parents from within. With determined look she set the picture on the table propped up by a stack of books. It belonged there she though, as she drifted off to sleep.
