Chapter 30: Cleaning Up
The sun was shining in the window when Hermione opened her eyes and tightened her arms around the man in bed with her. The first time they had made love it was fast and ferocious, breathtaking. Each time since then had been different. Last night it had been sweet, drugging, so right she couldn't describe it. He had filled her and emptied her, left her floating until she rolled into sleep. Now she awoke refreshed and much more capable of taking on the day.
She lifted her face to look at him and found him gazing at her, his eyes full of concern. She hadn't looked closely enough to notice the previous evening, for she had been too wrapped up in her own grief. He looked worn out, worried. "What is it? What's wrong?"
"I wonder what else they'll do in their haste to take you all down, to break Potter. Losing you, losing any or all of the Weasleys, would be more than he could take. You saw how he was after Black died. Breaking him so he can't fight is one of their greatest weapons. That makes your death or injury one of their greatest weapons. Even with the Dark Lord currently happy about the way I'm manipulating you, it could change in a heartbeat. His moods are mercurial: we never know from day to day what he will do or say. I worry about you constantly."
The last few words had been halting, as though they were hard to speak, and Hermione knew they must be. After all, he wasn't one given to much emotion, except that of hate and anger. Even then, his control had been amazing. When she looked back on all he had lived through, it was incredible he had managed to restrain himself from killing Sirius all those time he came by Grimmauld Place. A man with lesser control certainly would have given into his hate.
Not that she hadn't liked Sirius, in his own way. He certainly cared about Harry, and he could be a jolly companion, but he and James—and a host of others, should she be honest—had made Severus's life miserable. That kind of misery often created monsters. And despite all he had lived through, she couldn't call him a monster. She loved him so much. "That's why you're pretending to be manipulating me, isn't it? To make me too valuable a tool to dispose of?"
"So far your contribution has been minimal; as a school girl you don't have all the information other Order members get. That makes you somewhat vulnerable."
Hermione debated for a moment, then decided to make her own admission. "That situation should change soon. When Harry turns seventeen in a few days, he, Ron and I intend to seek Order membership. We want to be more involved in the fight. Right now nobody will take us seriously. The best way to get involved is to become members."
"You cannot join—you're too young. Still in school." His anger and worry rose inside her.
"We aren't planning on returning to school. Even if the school governors do decide to reopen, we're going to fight. It's far more important than our N.E.W.T. scores." The admission only caused her a twinge of regret now, after the past month of getting used to the idea.
"You have decided not to return to school? Miss I-Can't-Soak-Up-Knowledge-Fast-Enough-Granger, er, Snape?" He looked annoyed with himself for needing to make the correction. "How happy will you be if you don't get a decent job because you never took your N.E.W.T.s?"
"Tell me how happy I'll be if the Dark Lord wins and I'm dead, or turned into nothing more than chattel?"
He paused a moment, studying her, then trailed a finger down the side of her neck and along her collar bone, ending with a kiss on that sweet spot below her right ear. "As long as you were my chattel, I think we'd get by."
"Don't joke about this, Severus." Hermione was frustrated by his attitude. "I can take my tests later. You know Professor McGonagall will pull for me, as will all my other professors, to see that I get a chance to test—not that N.E.W.T. scores are likely to do me any good in Australia. But if we don't win the war, my scores are hardly going to matter. Many of the Order members may protest, but we're going after the evil git either way, and we'll be safer with their help."
There was a long moment of silence. "You're one stubborn woman. My wife." His acceptance soothed her, his admiration cooled her irritation, and the feel of his fingers rubbing her shoulders brought her to settle more closely against him.
"How long until Potter goes to Order headquarters?" Severus asked after a lengthy pause.
"Soon. Before the protection wears off at the Dursleys. He doesn't intend to go back either. And you can let whomever cares know that he hates their guts, so getting rid of them would be more a favor than a heartbreak for him."
He pressed a kiss to her bare shoulder. "That's not really true, is it?"
She smiled despite herself. "No. He loathes them, it's true, but he'd hate to see anyone killed. So no, he wouldn't consider it a favor."
"He'd hate to see anyone killed?" The words hung between them for a long moment.
"Well, maybe not just anyone. There might be one or two he wouldn't be too fussed about." The admission cost her.
"Like me."
When she finally answered him, her voice was soft, barely more than a whisper. "Like you. We have to let the Order know, have to make sure they don't attack you when it comes to the final battle. Everyone . . . they don't know . . . they don't understand. I can't bear to think of losing you, too. Everyone I know and love will be at risk in this war. Everyone who's left. Though I'd hate to lose one more person, just one, I don't know if I could go on without you." She rested her forehead against his chest and whispered, "I know I couldn't."
He spoke after a long moment. "I couldn't bear to live without you. There would be no point anymore. Damned potion. It's all the Weasley boys' fault." His voice lacked true anger, and he pulled her closer to him.
Hermione laughed for real this time. "And if we survive this war intact, even if we have to hide away in another continent to protect you, we'll probably want to thank them for bringing us together."
"Not that we'll do it. They can go on thinking you're ready to send hexes through the owl post at the slightest provocation."
"I wonder if their freckles will be back to normal by the final battle?"
"The way the Dark Lord is recruiting, we'll be lucky to have that much time. I'll be surprised if we see the Yule holidays before he makes his move. Potter must train. He must." There was a short pause, then Severus spoke again, his reluctance clear. "On another note, the Dark Lord has asked that I find out from you who the Secret-Keeper is for Headquarters. I really wish I could say you didn't know."
"You can. Nobody knows. They decided it was safer that way. I was shown only a note and didn't recognize the handwriting at all."
Severus looked her in the eye, and she could sense him probing to see if it was true. Then he nodded. "That's a relief. Not that it will make him happy to hear it, but at least the information won't come from me or you."
When Hermione said goodbye later than morning and Apparated back to the Burrow, she felt a twinge of guilt. It seemed Severus was telling her everything. She trusted him completely with herself; she believed he was helping her, giving her good information about the Death Eaters. Yet she trusted him with nearly none of her own secrets. Even the Horcruxes, which were not known in the Order, were not up for discussion with the man she loved, though he was already aware of her search. When did her trust win out over her worries and circumstances? Would she ever be able to share all of her life with him, or would what remained of their lives be spent under a veil of half truths and round-about questions?
* * *
Hermione spent the morning with Tonks and Remus at her parents' home, establishing new wards and cleaning up the havoc the Death Eaters had left behind. Much of the damage was repairable, but some was not. The family photographs someone had thrown in the fire were lost, as were the Dutch figurines her great-grandmother had owned, as several chunks were still missing when Hermione tried to spell it back to its original condition. Her best guess was that shards had ended up stuck to people's clothing and carried out of the house by Death Eaters and Aurors.
Still, the damage could have been far worse. With magic, and with help, it didn't take long to return the home nearly back to normal. When they were finished, Hermione stopped into her aunt's to see her parents and tell them all was well, then returned to the tent and began cleaning up there.
"What are you doing?" Ron asked when he saw her putting books into her school trunk.
"Are we or are we not returning to Headquarters in two days' time—less actually?"
"Well, yeah, but we can do all that packing tomorrow. No reason to worry about it yet."
Exasperated, Hermione looked at Harry, who smiled, but kept his eyes on the book in his lap. "Not only do we need to get our things packed, we need to leave this tent cleaned up properly before your father returns it to Perkins. Also, I promised Petunia I'd make sure the yard was in good repair when we left, which means a bit more work tonight under cover of darkness."
"Don't you think the nosy woman in Number Five wonders how it is we manage to keep the yard in perfect shape without ever seeming to do any work in it?" Harry flipped the page of his book.
"Or how we manage to move the tent at night, in the dark?" Ron stuffed another Chocolate Frog in his mouth, then looked over the notes he'd taken on becoming an Animagus.
"Or how about the fact that the three of us practically live here, but it looks barely big enough to fit someone like Professor Flitwick comfortably for a single night?" Hermione packed away a few more books, then checked under the table next to Harry to see if she missed any books there.
"Good thing you put that Muggle distraction spell on the tent, Hermione. Otherwise more tongues would be waggling than ever—and my incurable criminal behavior has long been a favorite topic of conversation in the neighborhood. Can you imagine the rumors about the kinky activities we involve ourselves with here?" Harry grinned when Hermione looked up at him in surprise at his suggestion.
"Especially with all the colored lights flashing everywhere when we cast spells," Ron added.
"Spells, what spells?" Hermione asked innocently. "You and I cast a few here and there, Ron, but Harry's still underage. I swear I never saw his wand in his hand once the whole month. And we'd hardly cast a spell near a bunch of Muggles like this. Honestly, you're full of wild stories today."
This time both boys looked up at her, and they all grinned at each other.
"That's our story and we're sticking to it," Harry said, then closed his textbook. "I'm done, let's get back to Transfiguration."
Ron set aside his notes and stood to join them. Hermione shook her head, but put away her own tasks for later. Transfiguration it was. She wondered if either of them would manage feathers or fur this time around.
* * *
Ron was starting to get a strange pattern on his arm, and Harry seemed more, well, hairy than usual when an owl came through the tent opening an hour later. Both boys lost their focus and returned to normal when the owl screeched as it landed on Hermione's lap.
Viktor's owl grasped her jeans with its claws, but managed not to scratch her skin too much, then held out the note attached to its leg.
"What, again? He's been keeping you rather busy, hasn't he?" she said to the owl. "Well, take a rest, if you like, and I'll take a few minutes to send a letter back with you." It was the third letter she'd received from Viktor since school got out. Hermione lifted the owl on her arm and carried it over to the table. She fed it some bread and water, then turned back to the boys, who were watching her.
"It's not Viktor, is it? I mean, you know, him. He wasn't around or anything," Ron said.
Hermione rolled her eyes at him. "Of course it's not Viktor. We're just friends. Now get back to work; I can see you're both making progress. I think you might have scales like a snake or lizard, Ron."
"Really? That'd be brilliant." He seemed to perk up at that and immediately closed his eyes to try and focus again.
When Harry joined him, Hermione unrolled the scroll of her letter and began to read.
Dear Hermione, I read about the attack on your parents, though the paper didn't give many details. I hope all is well with them and most especially with you. I hope to meet them when I am down next month to visit.
He continued on with more specifics about his plans, then closed the letter. It was shorter than usual, but it had only been a couple weeks since he wrote last, and she]d see him in a little more than a fortnight.
Hermione pulled out a quill and parchment and sent a brief reply, apologizing for the length and saying she looked forward to the visit, and Harry and Ron couldn't wait to talk Quidditch with him. After some brief consideration, she decided she ought to prepare him for the fact that she was involved with someone else, leaving only a general mention that she was seeing someone, rather than the fuller explanation of a soul mate that Harry and Ron had. It was impossible to know if the letter would be intercepted, after all.
After she tied the letter to the owl's leg, she looked back over at Ron and Harry and grinned. Ron was definitely developing scales, though he hadn't gotten any further in changing shape or size yet. Harry's increase in furriness was not her imagination, as most of his body was now covered with the stuff, though it was the same color as his regular mop. Still, things were coming along nicely.
* * *
Cleaning out the tent and getting everything settled at the Dursleys' was every bit the headache Hermione had expected. Petunia sneered at the teens, Vernon told Harry never to return, and Dudley tried to cop a feel. Of course he got zapped—sometimes Severus' spell came in handy. When Ron questioned Hermione's zapping of the youngest Dursley, she only gave him a mysterious smile and continued walking.
Returning to the House of Black was rather depressing, though with the advent of Dobby into their household, the place was sparkling up nicely. The house could still use new carpets and a good coat of paint, new, lighter drapes, fresh furnishings, and the list went on, but clean was a nice change by itself. Hermione figured Harry might get around to brightening the place up sometime in the next ten years—if he didn't burn it instead when the whole war was over. Fire might be the only way to permanently shut Mrs. Black up, after all.
The three of them had settled into the house in their regular rooms when Fred and George arrived that evening after closing their shop.
"Hey, what's brought you here?" Hermione asked when she answered the door.
"Figured we were due to give an update. Anyone else here?" Fred asked.
"Just the three of us. Remus should be in later, but not for hours. Ron and Harry are in the kitchen; we were just getting around to pudding."
George patted his stomach. "Well, if you insist that we join you, I suppose I wouldn't want to offend."
"I'm sure." Hermione smiled and led them through to the kitchen. It took several minutes for greetings and servings of trifle to be passed around the table. Fred arranged a work schedule with Ron, and George showed off some of their newest products while Hermione dished out the extra servings.
When the food was nearly gone, Fred finally got down to business. "So we've been checking around, popped into Borgin and Burkes—you were right mate, the place is downright creepy—" this last he said to Harry, "but if he's got anything interesting, he didn't tell us."
"Checked into an antique store that's a bit more choosy with their clientele, but he didn't have anything either. We found some other interesting things, though." George began cataloguing some of the bizarre items they had bought to furnish the apartment over their store. Some were far from bizarre, but some couldn't fit any other descriptor.
When the twins left, the evening had definitely been more interesting than expected, but Hermione found herself even more frustrated than before their arrival. Some of her best guesses as to location and specifics for the last couple Horcruxes had come up empty.
As she settled into bed that night, pulling her diary out to write a message to Severus, she contented herself with the idea that the twins' search could still come up with something. She just didn't know what.
Chapter 31: Visiting Godric's Hollow
The morning after the trio moved to Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, Remus joined them for breakfast. Having decided they wanted Dobby to focus mainly on finishing the household cleanup, and since their previous housekeeping arrangements had worked quite well, they decided to continue with them, so Harry was standing at the stove, manning the bacon and eggs. Hermione had toasted up a stack of bread, and Ron set the table.
"I guess you still want to see Godric's Hollow, then?" Remus asked when he was sitting at the table with a cup of coffee.
"Course," Ron said around a mouthful of toast. He swallowed his food, then continued, "We've been meaning to go since school got out."
"Thanks for agreeing to take us," Hermione said with a nod. Though Remus had helped her with warding her parent's house a few days earlier, he managed to avoid speaking to her directly most of the time. He hadn't made eye-contact with her since their discussion about Severus, and his attitude was really starting to irritate her. "We know how busy you are." Her words would have been perfectly polite if she hadn't emphasized 'busy' a bit more than the others, alluding to their discussion outside the tent.
Remus finally met her gaze, and though he said nothing about her comment, Hermione knew he caught her point. He gave a slight nod in her direction. "Someone probably should have taken Harry there years ago. Who better than me?"
"I'm sure you would have if I'd thought to ask earlier." Harry brought over the pan of eggs.
The conversation turned to other subjects while they ate. Though Hermione felt Remus's eyes on her several times during the meal, there were no more allusions to their private conversations.
When breakfast was cleaned up, Harry turned to Remus. "So how are we getting there?"
"Since none of you have been there before, and Harry's still slightly too young to Apparate, I procured a Portkey." Remus pulled a glove from his pocket.
Ron's eye widened. "I thought they were supposed to be hard to get a hold of."
"Yeah, well, keep it to yourselves, all right? It's not exactly sanctioned, but it's too close to the full moon for me to do side-along Apparition with Harry, and there isn't a nearby Floo connection." Remus made the comment matter-of-factly, as though carrying around illegal Portkeys were a matter of course.
Once a Marauder, always a Marauder. Hermione smiled despite herself. She supposed members of the Order of the Phoenix tended to blur the edges of the law to do their jobs sometimes, so she shouldn't be surprised. "Let's go to it then."
They gathered around the old glove, each of them taking a finger, and Remus activated the Portkey. Hermione felt the familiar yank behind her navel and the whirling, bumping and spinning this type of travel entailed.
After a long moment the group landed with a lurch in a copse of trees. Hermione felt her stomach turn over in complaint, then begin to settle down. She rubbed her side where Ron had jabbed her with an elbow in the maelstrom.
"Bloody hell," Ron said rubbing his entire right arm and staring at her. "What was that?"
"What was what?" Harry asked.
"I ran into Hermione and got blasted with this surge of power. Weirdest thing that's ever happened to me traveling Portkey."
Remus lifted in eyebrow at Hermione as if to say, 'don't they know?'
She shook her head slightly in response, and he rolled his eyes at her, but it was clear he was amused. "Sorry, Ron, didn't mean to do that. I hate Portkey travel. Good thing Harry's taking his Apparition test tomorrow." She rubbed her side again. "You need to watch those elbows." Her other arm was a bit sore as well from where Harry had bumped into her during their journey, but as he had no romantic interest in her, he hadn't been affected by Severus's spell. She decided to consider the results more later.
A glance at Harry showed him pale, his eyes riveted on something behind her. Hermione turned and saw the charred remnants of a foundation. Plants and vines had begun to grow through the cracks in the cement and the rubble had been hauled off, but there was no question in her mind that it was what remained of the Potter home.
"There was more left after . . . well, after," Remus said as they walked over. "But some Death Eaters came back a few weeks later, angry I suppose, and burned what remained of the home to the ground. Eventually we had the rubble hauled off."
Harry walked slowly over to the crumbling cement wall of the basement and almost reverently placed a hand on it. Silence seemed to have descended around them, only punctuated by the occasional bird warbling.
Harry's eyes watered up, but no tears fell as the others lined up beside him. A sense of solidarity flowed between them. Then Harry turned and followed the line of the foundation. "Do you remember the layout?" he asked Remus.
Only Remus' voice and the sound of their footfalls through the deep verdure disturbed the silence as they continued their way around the house. Remus described the upstairs, main floor and basement layout as well as he could. Then he detailed the way Lily had decorated: the bowls and vases of flowers she scattered around the house, the many pictures crowded together on the living room wall—both Muggle and wizarding variety intermixed—the loving way she planned the nursery when she learned she was pregnant.
Tears flowed from all of them now and were silently wiped away as they all mourned the lost opportunities, the love and happiness Harry would have felt if James and Lily had lived. Hermione felt a lump form in her throat, then wondered if Harry would have been half the man he was today if he hadn't been forced to live without his parents. Would he have turned into the kind of arrogant prat his father was in school, or would he have learned the compassion of his mother? Would he be as determined to make something of his life, even if the only gift he could give the world was Voldemort's death, or would he have grown complacent in a loving, wealthy home?
There were too many variables to be able to deduce. The possibilities would have taxed the capabilities of the most accomplished Arithmancy master, so Hermione set them aside.
When they finished walking the perimeter of the house, Remus turned and headed down a little path that curved between trees and around boulders, down a hill and past a small stream, leading to a flat plot of grass with white and gray headstones dotting an area the size of a Quidditch pitch.
"I haven't been here for a couple years," Remus apologized as he walked to the right and began scanning headstones a few rows in. "I know they're buried near here."
After a moment he came to stand in front of a large gray headstone with both Potter names listed on it. Their birth and death dates preceded the words Together in life, together forever.
Harry fell to his knees and ran a hand over the words on the stone, tears pouring down his cheeks. Remus settled a hand on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze, then motioned for Ron and Hermione to step back with him and leave Harry in privacy.
They watched him from a hundred feet back for a long moment, then Ron wandered off, weaving between the headstones, stopping to read one every so often. Hermione understood his need to move, to do something more than stand and watch Harry's pain. She could see Harry's lips moving. He was speaking to his parents, and she could imagine what he was saying and wondered if she was even partially right about the way he felt, the things he wished he knew.
Her eyes welled with tears again and she had to blink them back.
When Ron was sufficiently far away, Remus turned to her. "We need to talk about the situation we discussed the other day, but cannot speak freely, not even here." His voice was carefully modulated, his words chosen so if someone did happen to overhear them, they wouldn't understand the context.
Hermione lifted a brow. This was the first private moment they had together since she told him about the vow the Headmaster had required of Severus. She had hoped he would try and speak with her today, though she hadn't expected privacy to be handed to them on a platter, like this. "That is not unexpected."
He nodded. "Tonks and I were discussing the situation—"
Slashing a hand through the air, Hermione cut him off. "I did not authorize you to discuss it with Tonks."
He let out a huff of irritation. "I didn't give her certain pertinent details. She is only aware of general items. But she agrees with me that something specific needs to be done to ensure that the information we are gathering remains accurate and complete. After events of this spring, you can understand why we are concerned. The pressure for me to divulge my source is growing."
"Yes, yes. Of course I understand. I had plenty of concerns of my own and made sure to clear them up post-haste. But Remus, they aren't going to trust once they know the truth. Most won't listen to the truth anyway, not if they know the source."
"That's why we felt it necessary to require the same assurances that the Headmaster asked for. With an audience this time."
It took only a moment for Hermione to understand what he meant. An Unbreakable Vow. A shiver traveled down Hermione's spine at the thought. "I don't know if that's acceptable. Dumbledore was one thing, one of you lot is another."
Remus pushed the hair from his face and glanced around to verify the location of both boys. "That was why both Tonks and I thought compliance was most likely if you took the Headmaster's role, rather than someone else. You are already filling it in this situation in nearly every other way."
"Me?" The thought had merit. She hated the position it would put her in, but realized instinctively that it was their best option. She had Severus' best interest in mind, wouldn't trample on his personal space—indeed, he had so little personal space where she was involved that it would hardly be more imposition than he was already under. And it might provide protection for him both from angry Order members and the eventual court case, should they fail to get away safely. If the other members knew of his role in the war, perhaps she could get enough support to keep him from life in Azkaban.
Hermione couldn't imagine how they would manage if he went to Azkaban, how she would survive if she couldn't prove he was goaded into slaying the Headmaster from several directions. Then again, leaving behind her home and family to make a new name for themselves on the other end of the planet wasn't hugely appealing either. As far as the three mostly likely options: death, Azkaban—leading to a slow, lingering madness and into death, and moving to Tahiti, the third was the best, but . . . there were no good options at this point, better not to spend too much time dwelling on them.
"I'll make the suggestion and see where things go," she finally said. "We'll be working on a project tonight, but a few days may be required to consider your suggestion."
He nodded, and as Ron was making his way back over to them, they changed the subject. A few minutes more and Harry walked back over to them, his face red, his eyes bloodshot.
"Hey," Hermione said when he came over, then reached out and wrapped her arms around him. He hugged her back tightly, burying his face in the crook of her neck for a long moment.
When he pulled back, he wore a new look of determination. He turned to Remus. "So, are the property boundaries pretty much just the fenced area around the house then?"
Remus shook his head. "No, you own everything to the west of the cemetery, at least fifty acres. I'm not sure of the exact boundaries, but we could get a plot plan or something for you, if you'd like."
"I'd appreciate it," Harry said. "Do you have a general idea you can show me?"
After they finished up at the house, Remus pulled out the Portkey again, and they arrived in the copse of trees in the park across the street from Order Headquarters.
"Why didn't we reappear at Headquarters?" Ron asked.
"Only the secret keeper can make a Portkey arriving there, and that person didn't make this one. I have some things to take care of, but I'll see you kids in a few days. Be careful, especially now that Harry is," Remus checked his watch and smiled, "eleven hours from adulthood. Voldemort will be getting more and more anxious to force a confrontation."
"And we're not quite ready for that yet," Harry said. "But we're working on it. We'll be careful. Promise."
Remus said goodbye and Disapparated. The other three stood for a moment in the clearing, looking at each other.
"So what do you think? Fifty acres ought to have space enough," Harry said.
"I'd say so. I was thinking about popping back there and taking a little flight, checking out the area to see if there's one spot that's better than the others. Something large enough, but well sheltered." Hermione wondered how they would take her offer.
Ron started to protest, but Harry nodded. "She's right, she can cover the area in no time. If we finished our, er, Transfiguration projects, we might have gone too, but as we haven't . . . ."
Glad that Harry was being sensible about this, Hermione nodded. "I'll meet you back in the house in fifteen minutes or so."
"I don't know. I don't want you running around here alone." Harry put a restraining hand on her arm. "What if Snape remembers the area Headquarters was in? He could be skulking around here."
"Harry, that's not possible. Don't you remember what it was like before they told us the location again? I knew it was in this section of London, but the area I knew about was huge. There's no way Snape could pinpoint this neighborhood." It frustrated her that she couldn't tell him Severus was innocent—well, not exactly innocent, she supposed, but not the evil, foul traitor that he thought of. Then again with Remus' request, maybe that day would be coming sooner than she thought.
All of the maneuvering and secrets were giving her a headache.
"You never know, Hermione," Ron reached out to touch her shoulder, then backed off with a short yell of pain. "Bloody hell, what's going on here? First you shock me when we're Portkeying, and again now." He shook his hand and stared at her. He stared at Harry, who was still touching her. "Didn't you feel anything mate?"
"No, nothing."
Maybe a migraine, rather than a normal headache. Hermione pinched the skin on the bridge of her nose. "Let me go check things out, then I'll meet you back at Headquarters. I promise you'll get a full explanation at that time."
"I want to know now!" Ron crossed his arms over his chest and snarled at her.
"After I check out the property. I promise, Ron, I'll tell you everything I can."
"Everything you want to tell, not everything you know."
"Give it up, Ron, we know she 'can't' tell us everything going on. It's complicated." This last bit was just tad sarcastic and had Hermione wanting to snap at Harry.
"Yes it is. I'll meet you at Headquarters in fifteen minutes tops. I promise." Not wanting to deal with anything else, she popped back to the copse of trees they had left only a few minutes earlier. Hermione put her head in her hands for a few seconds and took some long, deep breaths to calm herself before changing to her starling form and flying above the tree tops.
In this form she could understand all of the bird calls around her, understand the story the wind was trying to tell, the moods of the sun. Maybe those last two were mostly fantasy, but she felt one with nature in this form, like she belonged in the sky.
While she enjoyed the first few minutes of freedom, however, she didn't stop paying attention to her surroundings. Being a small bird had its own set of drawbacks. She was in danger to large birds of prey, and if she landed, she could be hunted by smaller scavengers like fox and cats. Still, she stretched out the first few minutes of her time swooping and reeling through the air.
After she felt her tension released somewhat, Hermione circled a bit higher and took a good look at the land below her. In only a moment she located the foundation for the old home, then flew out to the cemetery. Using her memory of the guidelines Remus gave her for the property, she figured the basic property lines. She flew a bit lower over the area to see it more closely. The acreage had a good amount of woods on it, but several large, open spaces as well.
She swooped down in a few clearings, circling them at three feet from the ground to check for visibility. She discounted the first spot because it was too near the property line. A second because she could see a bit of a road through the trees, and she didn't know what kind of light or explosion might result from the spell they were using on the Horcrux. The third was entirely too small for their purposes, and the fourth lay near a small stream and was marshy.
Finally she reached a spot that looked perfect. She took a quick fly around the area, checking ground conditions, foliage thickness, size. Then Hermione transformed back into her own shape and walked around a bit. The spot was near the middle of the fifty acres, the most remote place she could find and well insulated from curious eyes. They would place some Muggle-repelling charms first, of course. Deciding that, she cast a few on the spot so they would have time to warn off anyone in the area. The pasture grass was growing well, but still didn't reach her knees, so it wouldn't be too long. She settled her hands on her hips and nodded. This was it. Then she focused and Apparated back to Grimmauld Place.
* * *
Harry and Ron were waiting not-so-patiently when she arrived back at Headquarters. They each held an open butterbeer and lounged on the library sofa eating sandwiches. Ron's expression was hard, his eyes searching her face as she appeared in the door. Harry tipped his bottle toward the third, unopened bottle sitting beside a plate with a sandwich for her on a table by her preferred chair. "So what's the word? You were a little longer than we expected."
"It took a few minutes, but I found just the spot." She took a few minutes to describe the location and setting. Harry and Ron fired off the list of requirements they had come up with, and it seemed to fit far better than anywhere else they had considered. It was very nearly perfect. "And since you already own the property, there's no one's permission to gather."
"Right. We can run over in a bit and do it. I want to get it over with." Harry took a drink of his soda. "Ron's right: it's creepy carrying this thing around. When it's done I'll get Bill to put the locket in my vault for now."
Hermione took her first bite of sandwich and nodded. She'd probably be a few minutes late to meet with Severus, but he would understand. Their appointments were rather fluid, and the next steps in the potion didn't have to be done until this evening. The ham and cheese sandwich was dry, and she peeled up the bread to see Ron had left off most of the mayonnaise and all of the mustard. After considering getting up and fixing the sandwich—he obviously was trying to annoy her—she decided it wasn't worth the effort. Though it would at least postpone the hassle of explaining the shocks Ron kept getting.
"Well, you said we'd get a full explanation. Or something similar to it." Ron dangled the butterbeer bottle from his fingers, glowering at her.
Where to begin? "When I went to visit my soul mate the other day, he noticed I had a few bruises on my arm. One of the Order members got upset about with me and my secrets and grabbed me harder than they planned on. This made my soul mate very angry, and when I refused to tell him who had done it, he cast a spell on me. It's a protection spell that works several ways. First, if anyone tries to harm me physically, either intentionally, or in the heat of the moment, they will get zapped."
"I wasn't mad at you," Ron said. "And I wasn't hurting you."
Hermione licked her lips, her mouth seemed strangely dry all of the sudden. This was an incredibly awkward conversation. Harry sat back, curious, but more detached than anything, while Ron visibly worked to keep his anger tied. "No, it also works that way on anyone who is attracted to me. Call it his little reminder that I'm off limits, I guess."
She let out a little laugh, but it sounded forced and hollow, even to her ears. "It has nothing to do with your intentions, only your attraction. If you were to get involved with someone else, and your feelings grew platonic again, the phenomenon should go away. That's why Harry wasn't affected, because he feels nothing for me but friendship."
"So I can't share a friendly hug with you unless I want to get zapped? What kind of bloke is this? That spell sounds almost dark. I've never heard of anything like it. I think it's time you told us who he is, Hermione."
She let out a huff of frustration. "I can't tell you who it is. The spell is Greek, and I didn't understand the words, but as he isn't coercing me into anything, I'd hardly call it dark."
"I imagine he can still touch you."
"Of course he can, he's my soul mate. We'd both go mad if we couldn't touch each other." Ron's face hardened and Hermione set aside the remainder of her sandwich, she wasn't hungry anymore. "You really have to get over this Ron. I'm sorry things didn't work out the way you wanted them to. I care about you, but we can't keep up with this never-ending battle. Just as I start to think you're accepting that you and I are never going to be more than friends, you start up on this again. Don't you get it? This isn't only hurting you and me, it affects your family, Harry, and everyone else when you act like this."
"Fine, just shove all the blame off on me, as if it were my fault." Ron stood and clenched his hand in fists at his side.
Unwilling to be towered over when they were arguing, Hermione stood as well. He still had several inches on her, but they were closer, at least. "It is your fault. Grow up Ron. Just grow up. I want to leave things the way they were between us before Dumbledore died. We were friends, we got on fine and we sometimes went out with other people. I hate being at odds with you and Harry, and you agreed we need to work together."
"Do you have any idea how hard it is to have someone you love flaunt their relationship with someone else in your face?"
"I do seem to remember watching you snogging Lavender in the middle of the common room for several months last spring—I don't know how this could be worse since you've never seen me with him and I don't bring him up in casual conversation. But you don't love me now any more than I loved you then."
She saw him begin to protest and cut him off, lifting her voice a bit more in volume. "No, Ron, you don't love me, not like that. You love me as a friend, but not as a lover. I was convenient and we always thought we'd get together. It's not the same. I'm sorry you're having such a hard time accepting it." This last she said with a low voice. She was sorry, in more ways than one. Sorry for him, sorry for herself, sorry all the way around—well, not sorry about her love for Severus, but for everything else.
She rubbed her temples, the headache her flight had cured now returning. "Can we get through this Horcrux destruction today? Then I'll spend the night elsewhere while you take a break."
"You'll spend it with him." It was an accusation dripping with venom.
She didn't bother to answer, denying it would be stupid since she'd been planning to see Severus all day, and agreeing would only add fuel to the fire.
Then he had to take things altogether too far. He stepped up until he was less than a foot away from her. "You're nothing but his whore!"
Fury took over her and she shoved him away from her. Not thinking, too angry to consider, she rubbed her ring with her thumb, saying the charm to reveal the ring. "I'm not his whore. I'm his wife. You were still too chicken to break up with Lavender when I married him in March, so don't start on me."
Ron looked up in shock from where he lay sprawled on the floor, all color draining from his face. "You're . . .you married him?"
Angry with herself for getting out of control, for sharing her secret, more angry with him for pushing her so far, she turned away and looked at Harry's stunned face. "I told you my situation was different than yours. I can't take this today, I'm sorry. I'll see you back at the Weasleys' tomorrow after your test; we'll set things up afterward. That's if this arse has the decency to apologize by then."
She stalked off, slamming the front door behind her, and knowing with pleasure that Mrs. Black would be yelling her head off by now. Already cursing herself for her revelation, she cast a variation of her secret spell. No matter how many people asked, Harry and Ron wouldn't be able to speak of her revelation in another person's hearing, whether they knew the person was there or not. This was beginning to get completely out of control.
She closed her eyes and Apparated to the cottage.