Disclaimer: The Harry Potter series? Still not mine! (Yeah, I'm bummed, too.)
Chapter 5: Eavesdropping
Everyone was sitting in the cottage living room, listening raptly as Bill gave news about friends and family. They didn't even notice Hermione come in. Didn't notice her, that is, until she stumbled over the threshold and caught herself on the wall, knocking a few framed pictures to the ground. Then she had everyone's attention. Ron was the first up. He ran over to her and gently pulled her to her feet, face flushing as she smiled gratefully. Others followed, to look concerned, rub her shoulder comfortingly, or smile sympathetically. Soon only Malfoy remained in the other room, standing in the corner, still gazing at her blankly.
"I knew it was a bad idea to let her wait out there, she needs to lie down. Now."
"Hermione?"
"'Ow about we take 'er to ze small bedroom? Ze one zat Luna eez using? Zey wouln't mind sharing, I theenk."
"Of course not! That sounds great!"
"She needs something to eat, too... goodness, she looks starved!''
Everyone kept talking worriedly, but she stopped trying to decipher the words. She felt terribly light headed, and it was difficult to focus on anything. She just listened to the jumble of voices, all warm, all loving, and sighed. She felt safe. After months and months of constant worry and trouble, she now felt safe.
Then, suddenly, she felt not warm, but dizzy and nauseous.
One concerned voice rang above the others, saying, "Hush! She needs rest. I'll take her."
She followed Bill as he led her to a room, her head now filled with buzzing. The night that she had just survived began to push in on her, pressure her, make her vision start to blur... She stumbled toward the bed, collapsing onto it, world going dark.
She slept heavily, the sort of sleep that covers you, pins you down, refuses to allow escape. It rolled over her like leaden mist, swirling with dreams that were never quite clear. If she tried to focus on one, it would disappear, leaving her holding nothing.
When she awoke after what seemed to be an age, the sleep still clung to her. She was weighed down with it. She couldn't rise from the bed, could barely crack her eyes open to see where she was. It took her a while to remember. She had no memory of the room where she now lay; she hadn't been in the condition to notice much of anything the night before. It was small, and simply furnished, but warm, with the drawn red curtains glowing slightly with early morning light. It couldn't be much past dawn.
Bill had tucked her in before leaving, and now, under the heavy quilt, she was far too warm. Still, she couldn't make herself move. Not yet.
She tried to remember her dreams. She knew that there was something... some shadows, vague shapes that she could almost recognize... But what was a dream, anyway? Images conjured by an unconscious mind. Meaningless.
Almost laughing at herself for her momentary belief in the importance of 'dreams', she started to fight her way out of bed. She still felt ridiculously sluggish, but she wanted to see her friends. Wanted to hear people talking again. She kicked at the sheets, pushing them to the foot of the bed. With a grunt, she shifted herself into a sitting position and slid off of the mattress onto the hardwood floor.
Groggily, she dragged herself toward the door. However, she tripped over something before she could make it.
"Agh!... Oh, Hermione!" Luna gave a fantastic yawn, sitting up in her make-shift bed on the floor. "Sorry, I didn't mean to be in your way." She spoke happily, if a bit sleepily.
"Oh, Luna! I'm sorry!" Hermione gasped, rubbing her eyes. "I didn't see you – oh! Was that your bed? I'm sorry, I didn't know that I was making you sleep on the floor, I – "
Luna smiled. "Oh, it wasn't. I didn't have a bed. I arrived just a couple hours before you, remember? Besides, it seemed like you needed it." She spoke earnestly as she got to her feet. "Bill said that the wrackspurts were really getting to you," she added matter-of-factly.
"Oh?" Hermione asked.
"Well, he didn't say so, exactly, but it was obvious. Was your mind going all fuzzy?" Hermione nodded, smiling slightly. "I thought so. Definitely wrackspurts. You must have had a ton of them! I don't think I've ever seen them make someone black out before." She tapped her lip thoughtfully.
"I'm going to go find Harry and Ron." Hermione said, stepping toward the door.
"Oh, wait! Fleur told me to make you eat this before you got up." She grabbed a bowl from the dresser.
Hermione took it. It was some sort of creamy soup, still steaming. "This looks delicious... How is it still warm? Hasn't it been..." She paused, before laughing, "I love magic." She sat down on the bed and began to eat.
"It hasn't been too long, actually. You only slept for a few hours. I think." Luna said, sitting next to her.
After a few spoonfuls, Hermione asked, "Is everyone okay?"
"Mr. Olivander and the goblin... Griphook, was it? Well, they're in bed. Dean and I are both fine, though, and Harry and Ron are okay, too. Is that it? Oh wait, Malfoy. I haven't seen him in a while, but he seemed fine. I think that's all."
"That's good." Hermione sighed, taking another bite of soup. "That's amazing."
"Yes, it is, isn't it?" Luna responded absently, looking around the room.
"Do you think we could all get wands somehow?" Hermione was suddenly struck with the thought that her wand – the one that she had used since she was eleven – was gone. Forever, probably. She sighed miserably, finally understanding why Harry had been so upset before, when his own wand had broken.
"I don't know. But Mr. Olivander is here, isn't he?"
"I suppose so..." Hermione answered, unsure. Yes, he was there, but was he in any condition to work? Did they have the materials to make wands, even?
But no one, surely, would leave Harry Potter without a wand.
She finished her soup in silence. "I'll take my dishes out to the kitchen." She said, standing up and walking out into the hall.
As she walked toward the front of the house, she heard Ron talking quietly nearby. At once a terrible desire for her friends came over her. She just wanted to be with them and to talk about a Potions essay, or complain about Professor Binns, or... anything, really, that wasn't the Horcruxes. Or the stupid, impossible Hallows.
She followed his voice, setting her soup bowl on a table. "Ron?" she called softly, stepping into the sitting room.
"Hermione!" He stood up from where he had been sitting on the couch next to his brother and ran to her, catching her in a great hug. After a moment he stepped back, rather red in the face. "Um, shouldn't you be resting? What are you doing up?"
"I'm fine. I woke up, and... well, wanted to talk."
"Ron?" Bill stood up. "I'm off. Oh, and did you eat that soup, Hermione?"
"Yes. It was delicious, thank you."
Bill smiled. "Fleur will be happy to hear that." He gave a soft laugh. After giving Hermione a last critical look, and seeming to regard her healthy enough, he was gone.
"Are you okay?" Ron asked nervously.
"Yes. I'm fine, really." She smiled. "Honestly, I'm getting tired of hearing that question over and over... I'm fine."
He didn't look appeased. "You know, I'd blame myself if-"
"Why? That's stupid. You did everything you could."
His ears turned a deep shade of red. He seemed about to respond when they both heard a familiar voice nearby. "I'm sorry, but it can't wait. I need to talk to them now. Privately – and separately. It's urgent."
"Harry, what on earth is going on?" Bill responded to their friend sharply. "First two students, a house elf, a half-conscious goblin, and a man who's been missing for over a year turn up, then a few hours later, you guys appear with a Death Eater! Hermione looks as though she's been tortured, and Ron's just refused to tell me anything – "
Hermione looked at Ron, who glanced back at her, biting his lip.
"We can't tell you what we're doing. You're in the order, Bill, you know that Dumbledore left us a mission. We're not supposed to talk about it to anyone else."
There was a pause. Hermione's mind raced. Who did he need to talk to, she wondered? Griphook, maybe, about the sword, but who else? Her, maybe, and Ron?
Finally Bill gave in. "All right. Who do you want to talk to first?"
"...Griphook." His answer was slow. "Griphook first."
"Up here, then." They heard Bill begin to climb the staircase. Hermione peeked out, watching.
Harry began to follow, then looked back and saw Hermione and Ron. "I need you two as well!" he called to them. Hermione flushed, embarrassed at having been caught listening, but followed. Ron came behind her.
"How are you?" Harry asked her. "I – I'm so sorry – "
"I'm fine, really. Please, don't apologize for what wasn't your fault." She smiled weakly, and Ron gave her a soft squeeze with one arm. She felt the odd urge to both lean into him and move away at the same time. She was grateful when he lowered his arm himself.
"What are we doing now, Harry?" he asked.
"You'll see. Come on." He said. Hermione hesitated slightly before following.
Still exhausted, climbing the steep stairs left her breathless. She tried not to pant as she was ushered into the bedroom. She moved quickly to a chair, feeling the need to sit down. Ron sat on the arm, to her slight annoyance.
Bill came in shortly, carrying the goblin. He placed him on the bed, then left, closing the door behind him.
"I'm sorry to take you out of bed," said Harry. "How are your legs?"
"Painful," the goblin replied, "But mending."
Hermione missed the next part of the conversation, suddenly aware of... something. She wasn't sure what, but she had heard something in the room. She looked around, checking all shady corners, but no one seemed to be there...
"You are an unusual wizard, Harry Potter." She brought her attention back to the goblin, figuring that she was only being paranoid.
"In what way?" She heard Harry ask. But there was that sound again...
"You dug the grave."
"So?"
There was a pause. Hermione listened carefully, but the sound was gone once more.
Finally Harry started, "Griphook I need some help, and you can give it to me. I need to break into a Gringotts vault."
Yes. Definitely, this time. "Harry, stop!" she cried. "There's someone else in here!"
Ron stood up, reaching to pull out his wand before remembering that it was gone. Harry's eyes shot around the room while he snarled, "Where? Where, Hermione?"
"I don't – " And then she saw him, hidden between the wall and the open closet door. "Malfoy!" She gasped. Harry followed her gaze, and stepped toward the closet.
"Stop, Potter." Malfoy calmly ordered, slipping out from behind the door into full view, pulling out his wand.
"Malfoy, you two-faced, scummy – !" Ron began to shout, but Malfoy cut him off.
"Shut up! I'm not turning on anyone, here. The most I'm guilty of is eavesdropping." He lowered his wand. "I just don't want Potter or you touching me. That would be... bad."
"Huh?" Ron growled. "Why's that?"
"I'll explain later. Just calm down, step away." Harry backed off slightly, still glaring murderously. "Yes... good, sit down, all of you." He waited while they did, then put his wand away. Ron sprang to his feet again, but Hermione pulled him back down.
Malfoy, seeing them all mostly settled, sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Alright then. Like I said, I don't mean any harm... I just want to know what's happening. I figured that I'd have to find out for myself, though, 'cause I got the feeling that no one was going tell me."
"I wonder why?" spat Ron.
"I'd say I'm sorry, but, you know? I'm not." He smirked. "So... go on."
"What?" Harry asked, narrowing his eyes.
"I said, 'go on'. Continue. Explain. Why Gringotts? What's there? How, precisely, do you plan to get in? I'm curious." He shrugged.
"You aren't hearing anything else."
"Get out of here, Malfoy." Ron snarled.
Malfoy raised his eyebrows. "Get out, you say? That sounds like an order." He drew himself up slightly. "What position are you in, Potter, Weasley, to order me around? Remember: I still have my wand." He pulled it out for emphasis.
"Malfoy..." Hermione pleaded, "please... just – " He glared darkly at her.
"We'll drag you out if we have to." Harry said sharply.
"Oh, that's not advisable." Malfoy said mildly. "Shouldn't touch me."
"You've said that, but you won't say why!"
"I don't want to explain now. Let's not keep Griphook in here too long, eh? It should suffice to say that I believe the Dark Lord has done some fancy spell work on me." He still smiled, but Hermione thought she saw him wince.
"Malfoy." She said nervously. "Please, just leave. You can't expect us to just – just trust you suddenly, with things that we can't tell anyone about!"
Then, unexpectedly, Malfoy seemed to lose his composure. "But I can help! Don't you get it? I want to help end this, this stupid war!" He slumped, lowering his wand. The ghost of his smirk remained on his face, but it was empty. He fingered his hair nervously. "I can help." he repeated weakly.
Harry walked over to the bedroom door, opened it, and gestured grandly. "Out. Now."
"I-" he croaked, stepping backwards. He met the glares of all in the room, human and goblin. After a moment, he looked down scowling, and stormed out of the room.
Harry slammed the door after him. "Think we're safe?"
Ron scoffed. "Of course not."
"I mean, you think he's going to go tell Vol-"
"Harry!" gasped Hermione, "The taboo!"
"Um, tell You-Know-Who about our plan to break into Gringotts?"
"It would not matter if he did." Griphook spoke for the first time since Malfoy had been discovered. "You cannot break into a Gringotts vault. It is impossible."
"No it isn't, it's been done." Ron corrected.
"Yeah, the same day I first met you, Griphook. My birthday, seven years ago." Harry said.
"The vault in question was empty at the time. Its protection was minimal." The goblin snapped, narrowing his black eyes.
"Well, the vault we need to get into isn't empty, and I'm guessing its protection will be pretty powerful," said Harry. "It belongs to the Lestranges."
The Lestranges? Hermione looked at Ron, eyes wide. What was Harry after?
"You have no chance. No chance at all. If you seek beneath our floors, a treasure that was never yours – "
"Thief, you have been warned, beware – yeah, I know, I remember." Harry said impatiently. "But I'm not trying to get myself any treasure, I'm not trying to take anything for personal gain. Can you believe that?"
The goblin thought briefly. Finally he sighed. "If there was a wizard of whom I would believe that they did not seek personal gain, it would be you Harry Potter. However, your reasons for wishing to break into a vault are inconsequential." He said. "It cannot be done, by you, me, or the Dark Lord, no matter what motives any of us have."
"We have no hope of getting in without you."
"I have told you. already. I cannot help."
"But – " Ron started, but Hermione nudged him in the ribs.
"Thank you for your time, Griphook." She said softly, before getting up and walking toward the door. Ron and Harry both called after her, but she didn't listen. She left.
"Hermione!" Harry shouted, running out after her, followed by Ron. "We need to get back in there! We can't just give up! We need him to help us, we haven't got a chance without him!"
"He said that even he can't help us. Do you think he was lying?" She crossed her arms.
"No – but maybe he wasn't telling the truth." Ron said.
"Even if he could, I'm not sure he would help us." Hermione sighed. "Do you know what sort of history wizards have with goblins? And we'd be asking him to betray his own for us!"
Harry faced her, exasperated. "That's why we need to make him see how important it is! It's vital! It's for-"
"For the greater good?" Hermine interrupted, scowling. The words that Dumbledore had once penned against muggles hung in the air darkly, leaving all silent for a moment.
Harry didn't respond to her. Finally, she asked, "You think that there's a Horcrux in there, don't you?"
"Yeah." he muttered. "Bellatrix was terrified when she thought we'd been in there. She was beside herself. I think there was something else in there, something that she was petrified that we had stolen, petrified that You-Know-Who would find out about."
Ron looked confused. "But I thought we were looking for places that You-Know-Who's been, places he's done something important? Was he ever inside the Lestranges' vault?"
Hermione noticed Harry fingering his scar as he said, "He gave Lucius Malfoy the diary. It would make sense for him to give a Horcrux to Bellatrix and her husband. They were his most devoted servants. He trusted them."
Harry let the words mull. It did make sense, Hermione realized. "So there's a Horcrux in Gringotts. And we can't get it." she whispered.
"That's why we have to get Griphook to help us."
He and Ron turned to reenter the bedroom. "Wait!" Hermione called. "He said no. What do you think we can do to get him to change his mind? We can't afford to make him mad! What if he tells someone about our plans?"
"He won't."
"No, not now," she said, "Because he thinks we've given up. Besides, he likes Harry. But if we went back in, pressured him, made him mad – "
"Well, it wouldn't really matter if he did turn us in." Ron said sourly. "Malfoy knows. Our plans are as good as leaked."
Hermione looked up at Harry suddenly. "Malfoy – He said that he could help! Didn't he? He said he could help us get into Gringotts!"
"He couldn't really mean that." Harry said, frowning. "His chances are no better than ours."
"What harm could it do to ask him about it?" Hermione asked desperately. "He knows we want to break in already. We don't need to tell him anything else, we could just see if he has a way to get in!"
"I... don't know about this, Hermione." Ron said, biting his lip. "It's Malfoy..."
Harry sighed. "We don't have much of a choice."
"Let's just ask him." Hermione pushed. "We have nothing to lose, as long as we don't tell him anything else."
Hermione gazed up at her two friends, who were frowning uncertainly. "Well..." Harry said finally, "Let's find the bloke."
-o-o-o-
ThisBirdTooHasFlown speaking: 1000 hits! Hooray! (I know that it's not very impressive at all, but it made my day.) Thank you all! In celebration, I took an afternoon and drew a picture for the story. You can find it here, just remove the spaces:
h t t p : / / b r o w s e . d e v i a n t a r t . c o m / ? o r d e r = 1 1 & q = d r a c o % 2 0 h e r m i o n e # / d 2 s s 8 3 b
Keep in mind that I'm no real artist, which is why perspective has been thrown to the wind and Malfoy looks black-and-white. (I mean, pale with white-blond hair and grey clothes... not much color there.)
Thanks to all my reviewers! The reviews from last chapter made me feel so warm and fuzzy!