A/N: I love you reviewers! Thank you for your loverly comments! I finished this one up between rehersals for my dance concert. Now I'll go soak my bruised-ness
Disclaimer: Manipulating characters is fun:D The HP characters belong to JKR, the rest belongs to my brain, which I'd like to keep intact and inside my head. Thanks!
Chapter Four: Blast from the Past
Air rushed around in her in all directions. She tightly clutched onto Ron, afraid to let go. It had been a long time since Hermione had apparated. She felt like a little kid learning to ride a bike. How could she be helpful to the Ministry? She hated Ron for bringing her back, for rekindling her old curiosity, her desire to learn new spells, brew new potions, and create new things. She felt like an outsider looking in on a strange new world, everything was so familiar, yet so distant. This was her brief moment of peace. Very soon, she would be back among her old companions. There was so much to tell, but even more that she wanted to keep locked away in an unreachable place in the back of her mind. She could feel the strain on that tiny hiding space, threatening to explode. With another loud pop she was on solid ground. Around the two was a deserted town. Hermione looked around at the grungy old buildings. All of them looked exceptionally ordinary and shabby. They appeared to be in London, on a street she had been to before, but she knew she could not place it on a map.
"We've got to move." Ron muttered, taking her hand. Hermione tottered after him, down the street between two old office buildings. On the corner was a red telephone box. Ron glanced over his shoulder to check for company, and escorted Hermione into the booth. "Remember this?" He asked.
"Vaguely." She watched with interest as he dialed on the seemingly broken phone. From an invisible speaker, she could hear a witch's voice nasally asking them about their business.
"I'm with Miss Granger. Mr. Potter wished me to bring her here." A shiny visitor badge appeared. Ron handed it to Hermione. "You'll need this."
"They won't remember me?" She teased dryly.
"This is to make things official, so there's no question as to why you're here."
Meanwhile, the old telephone box had taken them underground into the Ministry. The doors opened and the pair entered the Atrium of the Ministry of Magic. The building that was once so splendorous had fallen into decay. The marble had cracked; the gilded fireplaces were murky and covered with thick soot; cobwebs were strewn across some of the doors. The entire place looked as though it had long been neglected.
"The Ministry isn't really used as a main headquarters anymore. We use it to meet in large groups. But it's too conspicuous to be a permanent command center."
"Do you still have family working here?"
Ron stopped in his tracks and looked at her. "Yes of course. Dad's still tinkering with his Muggle stuff. Percy's about, schmoozing anyone he thinks could give him power." They clicked down the hallway. They passed the occasional witch or wizard buzzing around with a roll of parchment. Some stopped to look at her. Others pretended not to notice. One thing was certain, whenever she saw a group of people gossiping, she always caught snatches of their conversation. The "traitor" was back. The "treasonist" had decided to grace them with her presence. They turned the corner into another hallway. Ron led her all the way to the other end, into a little office that looked somewhat like a closet.
"This is part of the low key thing isn't it? All these nice rooms and you pick the cupboard."
"Story time." Ron cut in. "Harry's not here right now, so I guess I get to update you myself. Let's put it this way, a lot of things have changed since you left. And a lot of things are still the same."
"There's a nice general statement."
"Shut up Hermione." He was losing patience. "Let me talk. Then you can add all the smart ass comments you want aright?" She took a seat in a poufy orange chair that Ron conjured up. "Voldemort is gone. Or at least, as we know him." That was a name she had not heard in a long time. "Harry managed to destroy the final horcrux soon after you left. The Death Eaters, however, are still here to some extent. Ginny's with them under the Imperious Curse." He swallowed hard. "Lucius Malfoy gave Draco a cushy position as his adviser. Daddy Malfoy's the one we have to watch out for now. It appears that Voldemort possessed him as a last resort, just before we destroyed the last horcrux. We didn't notice at first, we thought he was gone for good, but there are these striking similarities that made us wonder. It's mostly Lucius though. There was too little of Tom Riddle left at that point to do anymore to him than a personality change, but even that much has caused to Death Eaters to treat him as their new master. He's determined to take over the wizarding world once and for all. After Lucius – let's just say this cat will have used up all of its lives. In the state he's in, he's used up all of those horcruxes, and he can't make anymore. There's too little of him left." He stopped. Hermione stared at him. "Well, that's sorta it in a nutshell - " He trailed off.
"Wait! What happened to Ginny?" Hermione interrogated anxiously.
"Funny you should mention it. That whole Imperius Curse thing is controlling her – and I bet Draco Malfoy is behind it. I know he is. We've noticed that Malfoy seems to have a lot more information than he should, and he's using it to his advantage." He snapped furiously, spitting the name "Malfoy" as if it were poison. "Let's stop talking about that right now." He walked around impatiently. "Harry should be here. He's probably off on his dangerous mission in Ireland. He ended up becoming an Auror you know."
"Excellent." She smiled for a moment proud for her old companion. "What have you been up to?"
"Well. A few years ago I realized that I really did give old Trelawny a hard time…and I was thinking that maybe Divination - "
"You did not, you big fat liar!" She shouted animatedly.
"Of course I didn't!" Ron countered. He smiled and let out a short laugh. "Ughh! That lady is completely nutters. Still." He walked back over and pulled up a chair. "Well at one point I wanted to become a professional Keeper for the Chudley Cannons. That idea went down the drain. All the practicing, and waking up at insane hours of the morning, and traveling…and partying, and women – damn, maybe I should have done that." Hermione kicked him playfully. "The Canons never win – I'm still their biggest fan."
"Of course." She was glad that he seemed relaxed, even if only for a moment.
"I wasn't sure what I wanted to do. I went through the training and everything as Harry's partner as an Auror – since that's what I thought I wanted." He looked at the ceiling dazedly. "We went on this mission in Romania. Charlie helped us, since we needed dragons to help us get into this guy's lair." He smiled again. Hermione was ignoring the fact that his story was extremely vague. She was happy her friend seemed so excited. "I realized that dragons are wicked cool. So I guess I'm still an Auror, but I took the last year off as Charlie's little apprentice. I think maybe we can use the dragons to help us get Malfoy." He leaned back in the chair. He still acts like a little kid, Hermione thought. "What have you been up to, Miss-oh-so-normal Granger?"
"I'm an editor in London." She knew he would not know anything about the prestige of her job, so she kept it simple. "It's an important paper. Sort of like the Daily Prophet."
"Sounds important." He nodded. "Maybe you should talk to Luna, she took over her dad's job at the Quibbler." He smirked. "They need some decent editors."
"Not funny either Ron!" She sighed. Then laughed. "The Quibbler is still around?" He nodded. "Well things have changed for me a lot. I'm engaged - "
"You're what!" He stared in disbelief, wide-eyed. "When was this?" He demanded.
"A few months ago." She answered evenly. "I'm a girl, you know. I didn't think I had to remind you again."
"I know that! That's not what I meant." Suddenly there was knock at the door. "Come in." He said sternly. A thin witch with a long chestnut braid entered the room. "What is it Grace?"
"Mr. Potter won't be able to make it tonight. He suggested that we find Miss Granger someplace to stay."
"I've got it taken care of." He responded. "Thank you." She left silently.
"Ron," Hermione spoke evenly, without feeling, "Does everyone really hate me? You would tell me wouldn't you?"
He paused a moment, thinking about how to answer. "They hate the choice you made. I don't think they hate you." He bit his lip. Hermione nodded, seeming to take this in calmly. He inhaled sharply. "I was thinking, about where you should stay. I think you should meet the new owner of the Quibbler."
"You've got to be kidding. Ron that's not funny."
"I'm being serious. I spoke to her already; she said she could give you a room for a while. You two could catch up. And maybe talk about news-related things." He smirked.
"Weasley – I oughta - " She smiled. "That's very sweet of her. She used to be my friend too." She gave him a told-you-so expression.
"By the way, you might need this. In case she tries any voodoo on you." He pulled out an old, thin box. There it was – her old wand - vine wood with a dragon heartstring core. "It was in your old dorm. The girls gave it to me before graduation." She just looked at him, and then at the old gift. She gracefully toyed with the wand, twirling it between her fingers. She never did graduate from Hogwarts. She had been too humiliated.
They walked out to a fireplace in the hall (since the closet was not adequately equipped) and called on Luna before flooing Hermione over to her house.
Luna lived in a small flat with plain wood floors. Her interior decorating, on the other hand, was anything but plain. Big, bright flowered couches, vibrant curtains, and loud wallpaper gave Hermione's brain a major visual overload. Then Luna waltzed into the room with her familiar dreamy look, as if she were there by accident. Hermione immediately recognized her by her thin dirty blonde hair, and carrot earrings. "Welcome to my humble abode." Hermione looked around again at the colorful circus around her. "Make yourself at home. Would you like some radish tea?"
"Uh, sure." It should have been near five in the morning, but the clock on the wall said 10 at night. Luna looked at her languorously and whispered. "Over the years, the wizarding world has almost become in its own time zone. We tried so hard to keep the attacks here from reaching the Muggle world that we had to become a completely separate entity. It doesn't completely work, and people get confused when they walk one place and it's suddenly broad daylight. We're working on it."
"Oh." Hermione replied, confused. She learned the strangest things from Luna. She spent some time toying with the idea of walking from one street to another and being in different times. "How have you been Luna? I hear you own the Quibbler now?" She mentally kicked herself for saying that. She prepared herself for a very long-winded discussion.
"Yes I am." Luna replied simply. "I'm working on an excellent piece about the psychic powers of flobberworms. Did you know they can predict the weather? They wiggle one way when it's going to rain. And they do another kind of jiggle when it will be sunny. And they turn completely stiff when it's about to snow - "
"They're probably frozen." Hermione stated matter-of-factly. "Because it's that cold."
"That's a common theory." Luna responded nonchalantly. She looked as if she was about to say something, but she decided not to. She took the kettle off the stove and poured two cups of tea. Then she brought the steaming cups over to the sofa, where she offered one to Hermione and then they sat down. "Hermione, I know what's wrong." She shifted in her seat so she could look Hermione in the eyes.
"No you don't Luna."
"I know why you did what you did. I don't think it was right, but it's justified. Love is blind Hermione."
"And deaf, and stupid. Everyone told me I was making a mistake. I didn't realize it until everything hit the fan." She let the steam from the tea hit her face. Luna stared at her with an all-knowing look. "You know about-?" Hermione gazed at her in shock.
"I'm more perceptive than you think." She responded serenely. "They'll understand when you tell them. And if they don't that's because they're guys, and they're prats." Luna took a sip of her tea. Hermione glanced at her cup suspiciously. "Besides, I understand you. I've gotten used to the fact that people don't understand me."
Somehow that was not a very comforting statement. It was a double-edged knife. Luna's heart was in the right place, and she knew about how complicated Hermione's old feelings were, but then she went slammed herself headfirst into a brick wall. Ouch. Hermione smiled and held the cup in the air, like a sort of toast. Then she took a sip, and immediately remembered why she had regarded the tea so warily before. Her eyes burned and she forced the tar-like substance down her throat.
"Thank you Luna. Unfortunately it's more complicated than that. God I'm an idiot!" She put her hands up in the air, nearly spilling some of the radish tea. Unfortunately, not a drop was wasted.
"You'll be fine. Get some sleep. I made a bed for you down the hall to the left." Hermione thanked her and walked to the room with the cup. She poured the tea into a plant dish, desperately. The plant coughed and sputtered at her, creating a dramatic death scene in the hallway. SHHH! She tiptoed past the plant and crawled under the orange and green comforter in her bright yellow room. With the lights off, it was hard to tell that she was in something that looked like a small child's nightmare. She was way more tired than she thought, and she quickly fell into a dreamless sleep.
Hermione woke up the next morning to someone shaking her. "Wake up Hermione." The voice was soothing and misty. Five more minutes Robert. Please stop bothering me. "You need to go. Ron's here." The voice continued. Ron? It's Robert. Not Ron…Oh! Her eyes snapped open. Luna was hovering a few inches above her face. Hermione shrieked. "I just thought you'd want to know." She said hazily.
Hermione forced herself out of bed, with much effort. She did a double take after looking at the very vibrant room, and remembered she was at Luna's. The colors were beginning to give her a headache. To add to her troubles, she realized that did not have other clothes. Luna appeared to read her mind and pointed to the closet, offering her robes for Hermione to wear. She pulled out some black robes with red trimming and threw them on. The fabric was a billowy silk, so unlike normal Muggle clothing.
"Hermione!" Ron called from down the hall.
"Luna. What's going on? Did he say why he's here? Where does he wants me to go?" She was beginning to panic. She had just woken up and already the world was coming to an end.
"I think they're going to take you to headquarters." She replied calmly. Her tone was so peaceful that it irritated Hermione. "Something about a pensieve - "
"WHAT!" She screeched. This is definitely not good.
"Harry came back. They want to interrogate you. Do they know anything?" She looked at Hermione with interest.
"You know far more than they do." She stammered. "They're going to kill me."
"Relax." She grabbed Hermione's hands. "Breathe." There was silence. "Now you're going to go with Ron Weasley to Grimmauld Place and you're going to tell them the whole story. They'll understand, just like I do."
Hermione relaxed a little and paced the room a few times apprehensively before settling down. "Okay. Here goes." She turned on her heel and pushed open the bedroom door.
Ron was standing a few doors down the hall, leaning against the wall. "Are you ready? Nice robes. I'm sure that's not something your little Muggle friends would find in fashion." Did anyone else notice that Ron goes through mood swings? He was back to hating her again.
"You don't need to make this difficult Ron."
"You started it." He responded childishly. Then he turned serious. "We wouldn't be in this mess if you hadn't insisted on giving up your roots – backstabbing your friends – fraternizing with our enemies - "
"How dare you! I could just leave you empty-handed. Then you would have to explain to your 'master', Mr. Harry Potter, why you came back without me." She stomped in the opposite direction.
He ran behind her and grabbed her hands. "I'm sorry Hermione, you're making this hard." She tried to apparate out of there, but she could not focus her thoughts fast enough. Hermione Granger, the best witch of her age, was truly out of practice with magic. "Expelliarmus!" Her wand soared out of her hand and onto the ground. Ron put his foot on it. Luna came out of the bedroom and put it in Ron's pocket. "Thanks Luna."
"You can do it Hermione." She encouraged her friend.
Ron and Hermione stumbled awkwardly over to the fireplace. He still had her arms latched behind her back. "Harry's got this passage open for now. We've got to hurry." He looked at her for a second, and let go to grab the floo powder off the mantle. Hermione looked resigned and did not move. He threw in a handful causing the flames to turn emerald green. Number twelve Grimmauld Place!" The flames leapt higher. He put his hand on her shoulder, and pulled her in after him.
After a few dizzying moments, they shot out of the fireplace into the main room of the old Black estate. She remembered that it became Harry's after Sirius' death. They had abandoned it after Dumbledore's death, worried that the Fidelius Charm was gone. "I thought we couldn't use this place anymore?"
"McGonagall helped restore the charm. I don't know all the details." He stammered. Hermione was sure that was not true. She did not have long to think though.
"For Merlin's Sake! Hermione Granger!" The cheery face of Mrs. Weasley bounced over to greet them. "It's been so long! How have you been?" She seemed happy. On second glance, she seemed very troubled. Hermione could see the worry in her eyes. It is because of her daughter; she's worried about Ginny. She does not seem mad at me.
"Mum." He looked at her, annoyed. "Harry needs to see her. Remember?" He gave his mother a pointed glance.
"Of course." She looked more solemn. "Hermione will explain everything to him, he'll see it's not that bad." Was she in denial? Hermione was a bit perplexed; maybe she did not know what happened. She was surprised Luna understood, but she would have been downright shocked if Mrs. Weasley knew as well.
Ron stared at his mother, dumbfounded. "Of course, Hermione will straighten everything out. Come along Miss Granger." He added silkily. Hermione hated that conceited tone. They walked along a hallway toward a large room at the end. Ron stopped a small, younger witch Hermione did not recognize and asked that she keep other people out of the drawing room.
They entered the drawing room. Large curtains framed the full picture window. The cabinets with dark items had covers over them, since they refused to be removed. They had placed a large mahogany table in the middle. This looked to be the main meeting room. At the head of the table sat the person Hermione could recognize anywhere. She did not have to search for the lightning scar like other people. He had grown a little more, but he was still not nearly as tall as Ron. He had become more muscular probably as a result of his Auror work. As they neared his side of the table, she could see the same intent green eyes, thin face, and a bit of stubble. He probably had not shaved in a few days.
"Hermione." He said simply. "Welcome back." He smiled a little and almost hugged her, but something seemed to be holding him back. "I'd love to see how things have been going with you, but we've got slightly more pressing matters." His semi-compassionate face became immediately stern. It was as if someone had come over to remind him that he and Hermione were not on speaking terms. Hermione became increasingly aware of the fact that Ron still was holding onto her arm. "Like what happened seven years ago for instance?" He threw that in casually "It appears that something happened back then that we need to help us. Ron and I have done all we can, we need your input. Besides, you have a little more information about the dark side than we have, don't you?"
Hermione could feel her face burning. She was furious, and she felt as if the years of pent up rage were about to explode. "Well?" Hermione struggled out of Ron's grip. "You needed me? Should I get up on a flagpole and be the Muggle bait? Let's lure the little pureblood lovers, now shall we?"
"Not exactly." Harry responded coolly. "And you're still a witch Hermione."
"Well, what then? Why did you bring me back here!" She fumed, slamming both hands onto the table in front of him.
"Calm down 'Mione. We need your help." Ron jumped in.
"HERmione." She corrected. "What kind of help are you looking for Harry? I told you, I am through."
"I'm sorry you feel that way." He said simply. Seven years had given him the graceful arrogance of a confident leader. She suddenly hated him for being so very calm and emotionless. "We all need you, whether you like it or not."
"Which means…"
"We have to go back in your memories to the last time you used magic." He turned to look at her face. She was both furious and horrified. He pushed a jet-black strand out of his eyes and fussed through the newer looking cabinets for his pensieve. Ron pulled out a chair and Hermione went to it reluctantly.
"I consider this a major invasion of privacy!" Hermione shouted. "I'm here now, that's what matters. I can tell you what happened." She sat down in a huff.
Harry considered his old friend for a few moments. Here she was, defiant, determined, and stubborn, just as she always had been. She was wearing that same face he remembered when she was searching for something in the library to help them solve a mystery. Her appearance had not aged a day, but she looked wiser. "Hermione, you left us with some terrible impressions of someone we thought was our friend. I'll forgive you if I can see this was a mistake as you say." He closed the cabinet and shuffled over to a closet, when he opened the door, the ceiling flooded with silver light. Ron flicked a switch and pulled the curtains shut, making the room very dark. The shining light of the pensieve reflected off Harry's glasses and hard features, illuminating the faint lightning scar on his forehead. He picked up the shallow basin, and carried it to her table.
Hermione felt as if she was going to cry. She could never cry, not here in front of them. She stooped so low as to make even her best friends hate her. How could I be so stupid! And now they will know why. She looked over at Ron; he was leaning against the opposite wall with just the faintest light of the pensieve hitting him. The silver light made his shock of red hair look even more vibrant. He had an angry and threatening look to his face. He would kill her. She face felt extremely hot and she could feel her eyes begin to burn as the tears well up. She hoped to God that it was too dark to see her face.
"Concentrate Hermione." Harry whispered. He held his wand out, about to extract her memory, and then he stopped and seemed to ponder something. "Ron, maybe we should make this a collective memory. We could all put our thoughts in - "
"Sure. Good idea. Full picture." The redhead mumbled back, walking toward the table. Harry pointed the wand to his own head, and pulled a thin silvery thread. He brought the thread into the basin and Hermione watched the misty water swirl and change colors. Taking his cue, Ron whipped his wand out of his pocket, concentrated hard for a moment, and drew another silvery thread. He added his to the mix, causing the water to change to a vibrant blue before settling.
"Concentrate." Harry repeated. He brought the wand to her forehead a second time.
Ron stared blankly as Harry took the memory from her with some effort. By the silvery light, he could see Hermione's eyes shining with tears. "Hermione?" Ron's hard features softened for a second, and he almost looked remorseful.
"Here goes." Harry's voice cut in. They approached the basin. The light was blinding. As their eyes started to adjust, Hermione could make out the shapes of her two old friends. Harry tilted the basin just slightly.
Ron quickly glanced at Hermione. "I'm sorry." Hermione mouthed back. Then the mist surrounded them, as they fell headfirst into their memories. God, let him forgive me.
A/N: I'm so mean :P - I gave you a long chapter this time. Ron's brief description may not make sense right now but I'll explain it better later.
Comments welcome always:D