Chapter 7

Hollow

The witch had had a rough few weeks. She tried to stay strong for Harry. And vice versa. They hadn't spoken his name since he left. He had hurt them both. She and their ginger haired friend had gone through so much since they met and yet she wasn't sure how they should proceed from this point. She couldn't see their future anymore - not to say she didn't want him in her future. It was just difficult to heal when there were more pressing matters at hand.

Hermione had never truly appreciated enchanted portraits than she had in the past few weeks. She and Harry pulled out the portrait of Phineas Nigellus to fill their void of quiet left behind by their friend. And unbeknownst to Harry, it allowed Hermione to covertly, albeit minimally converse with Professor Snape and Draco by extension. Part of her did feel an inkling of guilt about hiding the truth from Harry, but she knew she could not tell him the truth. Not now. He had just been abandoned by one of his best friends, he didn't need to feel betrayed by another.

Perhaps it was that guilt that made the words fall out her mouth, "I think we should go to Godric's Hollow."

Harry's head perked up and she swore he saw his eyes glitter. "What was that?"

She stroked the strange eye symbol that had been inscribed in her copy of The Tales of Beetle the Bard. Harry and she had just determined that it was the mark of Grindelwald... and that was really all that they knew. It was incredibly infuriating for her. Yes, the whole situation was maddening, but she felt she was at her wits end. And she had a theory. Even if that theory didn't pan out, she needed to do something. "I think we should go to Godric's Hollow," she repeated. "I've been putting it off the need to voice it, but I feel like we're stuck. It's dangerous, I'll admit it, but it makes sense that Dumbledore would have hid the sword in Godric Gryffindor's birthplace."

"Godric Gryffindor was born there?" Harry asked appearing to be dumbfounded.

While normally the witch would have been annoyed at the fact that Harry clearly had never even opened his copy of A History of Magic, she simply scoffed a laugh. It felt familiar. It made things almost seem like normal. Hermione pulled out a copy of the robust book and read the section referencing Godric Hollow to her friend. "It doesn't mention anything about you and your parents because Professor Bagshot doesn't cover anything later than the nineteenth century," she explained while tracing Bathilda Bagshot's name embossed on the cover. She felt she old a great debt to the legendary historian.

"At Bill and Fleur's wedding, their Aunt Muriel said that Bathilda Bagshot still lives in Godric's Hollow."

Hermione's head shot up to lock eyes with Harry, "Do you think Dumbledore would have left the sword with her? Do you think he knew we would go looking and entrusted it to her?"

Her friend looked back at her with a puzzled expression. "I don't know," he said finally. She could see the frustration grow on his face. She knew it wasn't just Ronald Harry felt betrayed by. She knew that Harry was angry with Dumbledore for leaving behind more questions than answers.

"What do you say? Shall we go figure it out?"

"Not so fast," came a taunting call echoing down a corridor.

The three Gryffindors looked up in surprise which then shift to fear in one person, frustration in another, while the last seemed unaffected. They did not dare move as the pair of Slytherins approached them - running would make them look guilty.

"We're not breaking any rules, Zabini! We're not meeting in a crowd of more than three or four," spat the redheaded witch. "Leave us be."

"After all the stunts you've pulled, Weasley, you're lucky you don't have a personal escort watching your every move. I'd be happy to take that job should it become a necessity," the dark skinned wizard replied smoothly.

"That won't be necessary, Blaise," Luna interjected in her feathery voice. "We were just stopped in our recruiting efforts. We know that it wouldn't be prudent to start up again so soon."

Neville seemed to be inspired by Luna as he straightened up to add, "That's right. We've only got a couple of days before we depart for the holidays. We were just trying to spend some time."

"Well that time is pushing it very close to curfew, Longbottom. So I suggest you get moving," the second Slytherin finally spoke. There was no venom in his voice. It was a well practiced nonchalance. Like the Gryffindors' actions meant little to nothing to him. All the smoothness that one should expect from a Malfoy. "Zabini, just to ensure there's no funny business happening why don't you start escorting Longbottom and Lovegood to their respective dormitories and I'll take Weasley to see the Headmaster. So he can remind her of the importance of rules." The blonde wizard pulled at Ginny's arm but it was not forceful. Ginny shook it off aggressively.

"You didn't need to grab her like that," Luna said in her airy voice. The comment seemed to be more to herself than as a reprimand.

Ginny scoffed, "Don't worry Luna, it didn't hurt."

Lovegood looked at Draco in a way that told him she knew his intention wasn't meant to hurt her. He briefly entertained the thought that the blonde girl might be a seer. But the thought of Hermione made him banish the thought.

"Right, c'mon then," Blaise jerked his head. "Off we go."

Draco turned to start walking toward the tower. "Off we go, Weasley." She let out a humph but followed. She had been in the office several times this term and knew exactly where they were going. Part of him was regretting this decision, but they needed to start preparing and he needed the red haired witch to trust him. He just hoped he could trust her. But she was his best bet. He was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he nearly jumped when she spoke. Since the beginning of the year it had been almost a mutual agreement that they would not speak to each other unless it was absolutely necessary.

"You know, I don't understand it," she said offhandedly.

He bit. "Don't understand what?" He was suddenly acutely aware of the empty hallways and hoped that no one else was pushing boundaries for the new curfew.

"She's so bloody brilliant," she let out a hollow laugh. "I know she's hardly ever wrong, but somehow I still can't fathom why on Earth she would choose you. I don't understand how she could be so wrong."

Deep breath. The younger witch certainly had impeccable timing. If she had only kept her mouth shut for a few more minutes he wouldn't be questioning what he was about to do. "You have no idea what you're talking about, Weasley."

"Exactly!" she nearly shrieked. "I have no idea. I have no idea what could have made her possibly want to be with you. You cold, unfeeling snake in the grass! I don't know how you managed to fool her so well and for so long."

"Neither do I," he said before he could stop himself.

Ginny noticed the softness in his voice and stopped in her tracks. "What?" she asked dumbly.

He gently grabbed her arm again. "Keep moving, we're nearly there."

She obliged but was still confused. "What do you mean?" she pressed.

As they entered the Gargoyle Corridor the young man hastened their pace and dropped his voice to a low whisper. "I will never understand what made Hermione think I was worthy of her time, but I promise I do everything in my power every day to make sure I'm a person worthy of her." They drew to a stop as they reached the entrance to the Headmaster's office. Draco gave the password and urged her to start their ascent. She began climbing but looked back at him with a baffled look on her face. He was slightly amused by it. "Look Weasley, I know you don't trust me, but I need to trust you because I'm about to give you the best Christmas gift of all - peace of mind."

After what she estimated was a week's time, Hermione and Harry stood hand in hand ready to enter Godric's Hollow. "I think it's Christmas Eve, Harry."

She knew this would be a momentous visit for Harry but hadn't anticipated the heaviness in her own heart. She could have blamed it on feeling so exposed - the snow made it easier to just remove the Invisibility Cloak and just pretend to be the Muggle couple they had impersonated with their Polyjuice Potion. But Hermione knew her uneasy feeling did not just come from that. As they made their way to the graveyard sitting behind the church in the square, Hermione could feel Harry's emotion mixing in with her own - curiosity, excitement, grief. "Look Harry," she gestured to a stone memorial of the Potter family. Seeing the contrast between the laughing baby Harry carved into stone and the man standing next to her was overwhelming.

They moved slowly and silently toward the graveyard, calling each other over when noticing things they deemed important - a tombstone with the same surname of their classmates, a stone with the mysterious Grindelwald symbol, the grave of the infamous Ariana Dumbledore - all things that produced more questions.

They continued their hunt for what Harry needed most at the moment. "Harry, they're here... Right here." She could hear his heavy footfalls but did not look away from the grave markers. She reached out for his hand which he took willingly. After all this time, he was here looking at his parents' grave. After all this time, all his grief and suffering, all his wondering, Harry was here with his parents again. She leaned into her friend and wondered if she would be granted the same mercy. If she couldn't save her parents, would she at least be granted the mercy of being able to find their grave?

Suddenly she began feeling everything she had been managing to keep at bay since Ron left - anger, agony, grief, confusion. The hollowness she experienced by trying to turn off her emotions was now overrun with feeling. She looked at her best friend's parents graves and began to mourn. What of their other friends and families? How many graves would they be visiting once this was all over? Or would it be their graves their loved ones would visit? What lives won't get to be lived out?

The witch brushed away hot tears as Harry embraced her before suggesting they move on. "Harry, stop," she commanded. "There's someone watching us." She felt it before she saw it, just the slightest shift of a shadow.

"We look like Muggles," he pointed out.

"Muggles that just laid flowers on your parents' grave! There's something there, Harry" she said urgently. He must have noticed something was off as well because he agreed to put the Invisibility Cloak back on.

As they searched for the home of Bathilda Bagshot, they were drawn to the Potter house. It was left untouched as a monument to the family and to serve as a reminder of the violence Voldemort wrought.

Hermione noticed the figure first. She knew that no one, Witch or Muggle, should be able to see she and Harry under the cloak but it was evident this shrunken figure could see them and seemed to know who they were.

Before she could say anything, Harry called out, "Are you Bathilda?" The figure nodded and beckoned with her arms. Harry squeezed Hermione's hand and began pulling her towards the squat figure.

Hermione let herself be pulled along as she tried to talk herself through the overwhelming sense of dread she was experiencing. Of course she was afraid. They were in an unfamiliar location following an unfamiliar woman who didn't appear to be very chatty. But Hermione had learned so much from this woman. And she knew Dumbledore. They needed answers. Right?

As the approached a small home and opened the gate that led to the yard, the witch decided to try something. She focused her mind and tried to force a thought into her friend's mind, "Harry, I'm not sure about this."

She could sense his confusion but then got a response, "Look at the size of her. We can take her down if we need to."

They entered the home and followed the old witch into the sitting room and Hermione watched Harry attempt to help her with the tea. She jumped when Harry unexpectedly grabbed a picture off the mantle and began questioning Bathilda for answers. Harry kept calling the man in the picture a thief, but Hermione was struggling to connect the dots. Instead she asked, "Mrs. - Miss Bagshot? Was there something you wanted to show us?"

Hermione watched from her spot on the sofa while Harry decoded that the older witch wanted to go upstairs with Harry - alone. It made Hermione feel uneasy, but Harry had a point about being able to overtake the woman if necessary. The young witch eyed the room while Harry and strange old woman took their leave.

As they disappeared from view, Hermione shot up and made a beeline for the picture Harry had been asking about. The young man in the picture did seem vaguely familiar to her. She looked up from the picture to take stock of the rest of the room. Her eyes locked on a copy of The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore. She picked up the object as if it was covered in filth. As she began to open the cover, she heard noise from upstairs. She forced the book into her bag and drew her wand. Then she heard Harry let out a painful yowl and ran up the stairs.

She didn't know what to make of the scene but released a curse on instinct. That was when she saw the snake and it moved to strike her. She narrowly avoided it by running in Harry's direction only to have Harry pull her onto a bed as her curse rebounded across the room until it shattered the window.

"He's coming!" Harry shrieked as Nagini made her move to attack again.

Hermione was quicker "Confringo!" The whole room seemed to envelop in light as she watched the snake slam against a wall. Harry reached for her and they dove out of the window as Harry howled in pain and she Apparated back to their camping spot.

"He loved you," Hermione tried to reassure him. "I know he loved you." She was trying to reassure herself.

She watched as Harry's sadness turned to a quiet rage. They had just read through the filth that was Rita Skeeter's book on Dumbledore's life. They had just learned that their hero was best friends with his generation's equivalent of Voldemort. Albus Dumbledore was good friends with Dark Wizard Gellert Grindelwald. Their great Headmaster appeared to inspire the Muggle hating wizard's slogan - For the Greater Good.

She couldn't process that information. She didn't know what it meant. And it hurt. But people change - she knew that better than anyone, didn't she? That wasn't the Dumbledore they knew and loved.

"I don't know who he loved, Hermione, but it was never me," Harry said hollowly. "This isn't love, the mess he's left me in. He shared a damn sight more of what he was really thinking with Gellert Grindelwald than he ever shared with me. All I got was hollow words."

She stared at her friend - badly bruised, dispirited, holding onto her wand because she appeared to had accidentally broken his with her last spell. She wanted to comfort him, but she knew that wasn't what he needed in that moment. She knew she should share what she knew with him, but he needed to heal first. They could only bend so much before breaking.

"I'll finish the watch."

She acknowledged his dismissal and knew she needed to start figuring out how to tell him what she knew.

A/N: Thank you for all the reviews, love, and support! Not exactly on the week mark, but I'm close to it. I took some time to celebrate a lonely birthday in this quarantine. Please everyone stay safe! Wishing for health and safety for you all.