Ringing in the New Year
Despite her love for the Weasley clan, Hermione was glad to return to the relative calm of the flat above the Wheezes. After Percy and the Minister left, Mrs. WEasley was inconsolable. Nothing her husband or children said could make her feel better about the rift in her beloved family. Not to mention, her youngest four children could not stop the verbal abuse of their wayward brother, forcing her to a sad and early bedtime.
The party had cleared shortly after. Bill and Fleur went for a walk around the garden for some alone time before they parted for bed. Charlie and Remus had chatted for a bit, then the two left to catch Portkeys to the places they needed to return to. Harry and Ron went to bed, and Harry left Hermione with a promise to catch her up promptly, once things had settled down.
It would have to wait until their return to school, however. The day after Christmas the twins returned to their work. For the first few days, Hermione wandered around the shops that lined Diagon Alley. She would stop in at the book shop, often chatting with the owner. Or, she would wander around the Apothecary, looking at the various potions ingredients, though she didn't pause for conversation here. The owner's eyes followed her, but he never spared a smile. Then she would take her lunch at the Leaky Cauldron, reading a book or watching the people come and go.
It was an eye-opening experience, watching people rush through their daily grind. Lips were pursed tightly, drawn into grimaces that were not only tied to the grey and depressing weather. People did their business quickly, rarely lingering for long chats. Regulars would talk with their heads down, and left after one or two drinks. Hermione could count on her fingers the number of times she had heard laughter while she whittled away her lunch hour. All this in spite of the fact that it had been strangely quiet over the holiday. Perhaps, Hermione considered, it was the quiet that had set people on edge.
Mr. Weasley had been right, however, in his words to Percy. People could not help but smile at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. People of all ages would stop and read the witty advertisments. The store was always packed with people. They stopped in to enjoy a good laugh over the products, and the boys were selling things almost as quickly as they could stock them. More than jokes or tricks, the boys were in the business of happiness. She enjoyed watching people's faces transform as they moved about the kooky building.
As they approached the New Year, Christmas spirit was beginning to wane. December's penultimate day dawned with the month's last ditch efforts to impact the year. The air had turned bitterly cold. Icicles hung from store fronts like the teeth of a dragon, and wind whistled through the narrow lane. All but the bravest and most determined folk stayed in their homes, and the streets looked deserted.
Hermione spent the day helping Verity restock the shelves and take inventory for the shop, taking advantage of the lull in business to get to know the beautiful girl. Hermione found she quite enjoyed the time she spent with the sassy blond. Verity regaled her with stories about some of her less cordial customers.
"He wandered over from the Cauldron, already out of his tree, and it was nearly close. He stumbles in the door and wails about his bad luck with women, yeah?" Her eyes were sparkling with laughter as she recounted the event, "He wants to buy our entire stock of love potions! When I go to help him, because both boys found this to be too good a chance to pass up, he goes absolutely bug eyed. His tone changes entirely, and he tips himself over to one knee and asks him if I'll marry him. Put him out of his misery, he says!"
Hermione laughed. She could hardly keep her hold on the "Magic 8 Balls" they were stocking in the Muggle Tricks section. "So, what did you tell him? Did you let him down easy?"
"Ooh, the bloke was rough Hermione. There was certainly no way I'd marry him, that's for sure. He looked like a pig and a house elf had a son! It was all I could do to keep my face in order. I could hear Fred and George tittering like a pack of school girls, but I was all sweetness. I took him over to our section of sour trick potions and wished him well. If he ever caught on that they weren't the right product, I can't tell you. He bought us out, and stumbled back into the darkness. But at least a sour mouth won't leave the next girl begging to kiss him. Or worse!" Verity was almost out of breath as she finished her tale, and Hermione clutched her side in pain. She could tell why the boys had hired this blonde bombshell, and it had everything to do with her sparkling wit and quick thinking.
Stories like these kept the mood of the day light, and Hermione couldn't remember the last time she'd laughed so much. Verity was an absolute treasure. The day flew by so quickly that Hermione was surprised when it was time to close. Even cleaning went quickly, and with finality George hung a sign on the door to warn people about changed hours for New Years Weekend. Then everyone trouped upstairs and collapsed around the kitchen table.
Verity put her head on the table, exhausted. George leaned back, using the chair to crack his back with a satisfying sound. Fred went to the fridge and pulled out a butterbeer for everyone, bringing the bottles to the table. When he finally took his own seat, he pulled Hermione's legs up onto his lap and rubbed gentle circles on the skin left exposed below her skirt and above her socks.
In the comfort of quiet companionship they passed a few hours. Verity left at 10pm, and George set to work calculating orders for products that were running low. Fred and Hermione sat up at the table, her with her book, and him with his research work. The evening was beautifully normal.
"FRED! GEORGE! WHERE ARE YOU?" The cry of fear cut through Hermione's sleep. Fred had hopped out of bed in an instant, wand already firmly in hand. He grabbed a shirt, but did not take the time to pull it over his head before leaving the room. Hermione's heart raced as she pulled a sweater on over her tank top, and she kept her ears strained to hear sounds of danger or struggle. She double checked the wand she grabbed before she walked into the hall.
She descended the stairs of the flat, wand at the ready. The skin at the back of her neck prickled uncomfortably as she made her landing in the stockroom. She could now hear familiar voices.
"Merlin's furry ball sack!" George yelled, his voice strangled with emotion.
"Those fuckers…" Fred sounded stunned.
" I am so glad you guys are alright. I was so worried."
Whatever Hermione thought she would see did not live up to the scene revealed when she opened the stock room door. The shop looked like a tornado had run through it. Shelves were dashed to the floor, contents spilled in all directions. The windows were all smashed to bits, glass glittering jewel-like on the ground, allowing the cold air to pour in.
The twins and Verity stood in the center of the shop, observing the destruction with fearful disbelief. Verity was hugging them both, tears in her bright blue eyes. Fred still had not put on his shirt, which now lay forgotten on the floor at his feet. George kept opening his mouth wordlessly, like a fish gasping on shore.
Moving into the room, Hermione could see that the injury was accompanied by insult. Burned into the walls, floor, and even the ceiling was an unending chorus of "blood traitors". She clapped a hand to her mouth, stifling a gasp.
"Hermione, mind the glass!" Verity picked her way over to the girl carefully, and threw arms around her in a tight embrace. "I am so glad you're safe. Fred and George must have quite the talent for wards and shields. I can't believe this happened to the shop…" She continued to babble anxiously and Hermione tuned her out, and she patted the girl's shoulder mindlessly.
Fred and George were standing by the counter and talking quietly, then suddenly both whirled their wands in a spell. Hermione registered slowly that it was a Patronus. Two beagles, ghostly and shining, appeared suddenly, then ran off in separate directions to fulfill their given quest. With that accomplished, the twins moved across the room, dodging glass and overturned shelves to make their way out to the street.
Careful not to step on the glass with her bare feet, Hermione followed them outside. The boys stood on the cold street, staring at the shop with pitiable horror. The outside of the building looked scorched and torn. Siding fell off and littered the sidewalk. The words "blood traitors" were joined with another phrase out here: "Mudblood lovers".
"Oh boys," Hermione breathed. She was at an utter loss for words, and her heart felt like it was plunging into her stomach.
A *pop* of apparition startled all of them. Remus and Bill had arrived. Their faces wore a mask both relieved and stricken. Bill pulled his brothers into a tight embrace, and for a moment the twins looked like scared children rather than adults. The moment passed away as smoothly as if Hermione had imagined it.
"Your father couldn't get out of work, but he says he will speak to Kingsley as soon as possible. Tonks might be able to take your case. Any ideas what might have happened?" Remus spoke quietly. His tone was soothing, and Hermione felt her hands relax from the tightly balled fists they had formed.
"No. Nothing tripped our alarm ward. I guess they must've dispelled it. Luckily the wards on our flat are much more complex," George replied thoughtfully.
"I don't think Death Eaters," Fred said, strangely diagnostic, "even our twin-bond ward may not have stood to them. Also, they don't play to humiliation like this. We'd be a hole in the street. Torn from our beds and gone."
"Never to be heard from again," George chimed in.
"A blip in the annals of history!" Fred added.
"More like the a-"
Bill silenced the joke before George could finish it, but the tension was already lifting. Remus and Bill each had half-smiles on their faces as they went into the store.
If either man was surprised to see Hermione, they did not let on. Bill gave her a quick side hug, and Remus put a hand on her shoulder in brief comfort. She was glad at how quickly they had arrived on the scene, presumably at the call of the boys' Patronuses. The two men looked around for what felt like hours, but they saw nothing that posed a present danger. Nothing was waiting to enchant, or curse, or even explode.
"It was probably just meant to scare you, but…" Bill began.
"We can't just pack up and quit!" George exclaimed, his brows knit angrily.
Hermione's heart was heavy with fear as she listened to them, but the twins' conviction reminded her of Harry. She fought to keep the monsters of the abyss from overwhelming her. She could feel the monster lurking just beyond her vision, waiting to snatch her beloved friends away. Waiting to destroy her.
The rustling of wings caught the attention of all as a post owl delivered the Daily Prophet. Verity went to pay the bird, allowing habit to comfort her. When she saw the paper, however, her mouth gaped in shock. She turned the paper toward Hermione, and pointed at a picture of Fred and Hermione walking through Diagon Alley before Christmas. The headline read
A Taste for Fame and Fortune?
Hermione Granger, Muggleborn witch and best friend of Harry Potter, is at it again. Two years ago we saw her playing with the heart of our favorite golden boy. Mr. Potter seems to have forgiven her, but her taste for following famous wizards seems to be continuing. She has since been a known companion of the Bulgarian Seeker Viktor Krum, though their ill-matched romance was short lived.
Now she has been spotted in the arms of one of the entrepreneurial brothers of the Weasley Wizarding Wheezes fame. The shop, which popped up only about a year ago now, has been doing extremely well. Through partnerships with international charms experts as well as a personal genius for invention, these boys have been giving the old Zonko's a run for its galleons.
It seems Miss Granger has set her sights on the devilishly handsome Franz Weasley. An insider report suggests she may have hoodwinked him into it, since he was recently in a relationship with a very sporty witch with a beautiful smile and great personality.
All this comes in addition to the many snubs Miss Granger has been handing out to the "little boys" at her school, with whom she would stand to gain little fame or fortune.
"I know she was sweet on his brother for a while, but now that he's happily taken, I guess she had to move to the next best thing," a girl mentioned in a recent interview.
"She was leading me on. Said I would be a great Quidditch star, and that she loved Quidditch players. But then she was out the door when I didn't make Keeper." Another boy, Cormick McClaggen mentioned.
Article continues on pg.12
"It's from a few days ago. It must've run the day our advertisement ran. That's the only time we get the Prophet," Verity explained, watching Hermione's face go through several shades of pink and red.
Fred and George crowded around Hermione to see the article. Hermione's hands shook as she read the exact name she was sure she'd see.
"Rita Skeeter...How dare she…' Hermione felt as though something inside of her had snapped.
"Isn't she the woman who covered the Tri-Wizard Tournament, and the one who wrote about Harry last year?" Fred asked, putting a comforting arm around Hermione's shoulder. Hermione shrugged it off, afraid of her own anger to let him too close.
"Yes! She's an absolute cow. She just likes to cause trouble," Hermione cried, "and look what she's done! It's one thing to spread lies about my reputation. I don't care about any of that, but this-" She gestured to the battered room," - this is your livelihood! Someone came after you because of her. Because of me…"
Bare feet ignored and coat forgotten, Hermione stormed off. She could barely hear the cries of concern that followed her as she picked up her speed. She ignored the cold spreading over her feet and up her legs. She knew she was being irrational, emotional, but she couldn't stop the crushing burden of the pain that she'd caused. Fred and George wouldn't have been targeted if it weren't for her. Mudblood- the word echoed like a scream in her ears, an unholy chant, a maddening curse. She wandered aimlessly for quite some time, until she found herself staring down the dark portal of Knockturn Alley.
A woman with wild grey hair still peppered with black was the only person visible down the dark street. She was wrapped in shapeless layers to protect against the cold, and doubled over a trash barrel while she cut the talons and beaks off of eagles. She tossed the the birds away without a second thought when her task was complete, and the pile that formed in the wagon at her side was becoming rather high. Hermione felt herself shiver from something that had very little to do with the cold. A piercing glance told Hermione that the woman had noticed her, but the old witch made no movement toward her.
The sound of a door and the sight of a new person caught Hermione's eye. A tall figure in a black cloak stepped out from a shop, an unsavory looking apothecary. Even before his pointed face met hers in surprise, Hermione had recognized Malfoy's light blonde hair. Their eyes locked and she was surprised to see confusion wash across his face instead of contempt.
"Why are you...here?" He spoke softly, and he sounded unsure and more than a little afraid.
"It's a public street, Malfoy! I am allowed, even if you don't like it!" Her patience was long gone.
He stepped toward her and grabbed her arm, steering her away with surprising gentleness. She was so surprised by this action that she didn't pull away until he stopped walking. They were safely back in Diagon Alley, she realized at the edges of her mind.
"What do you think you are doing? You of all people are not safe over there. Especially dressed like an idiot. An obvious mud-" He was lecturing her, gesturing to her shorts and lack of shoes. She was surprised he didn't finish his favorite insult.
"I...I dunno, alright?" She stammered, her face hot.
"Looking for trouble, no doubt. But Saint Potter won't always be around to save you," He told her, and the mention of Harry twisted his face like he wanted to spit.
"Or you, I suppose?" She shot back. She was stunned to see him nod briefly, his face almost kind. It was gone, though, quickly replaced by the Malfoy sneer she had come to hate so deeply.
"Skeeter's readers are child's play, Mudblo-od." She noticed the word catch on his tongue, and drip like acid between them. "Keep your frizzy head down, or you may not keep it at all." He turned away abruptly, marching back toward the direction they had come from.
Confused, tired, and beginning to feel the cold, Hermione realized that things had truly gone from bad to worse. The safe and wonderful world of magic that had invited her in now looked very like the jaws of a wolf, ready to swallow her down. And she was feeling very vulnerable without her red cape of protection.