AN: Still feeling really unmotivated to do anything… Apologies in advance if this chapter sucks as a result. I feel like they've been getting worse and worse as I meander along. I have a bunch of ideas that seem like fun for this story, but I never really feel like writing them :/ Lyrics are from Deep Water Horizon by Epica, which is from their newest album that anyone with ears should listen to and enjoy. By the way, I also reuse the talking Patronus incantation I made up for Haunted here, and like before I don't know any Latin aside from what appears in the books. Fun fact, according to the all-knowing Mugglenet, Crucio is Latin for "I torture" and Imperio is "I control". That's the extent of my Latin, and frankly I don't see why I would ever need more than that. All right, I'll get to the chapter now.

-Ophelia

We have to wait

For a dying day

Full of black decay

We'll find a way

To become aware

Breathing tainted air

We change the lanes

In every second of our lives

"Fleur?" Harry and I sprinted down the stairs, jumping the last few steps as the staircase began to move away. My heart was pounding in my throat; what else could possibly have happened? The war is over, we won. Why hasn't our misery ended? We found her sprawled on the ground in the corridor, her shimmering hair falling across her face as she continued screaming. It was a heart-rending sound, full of despair beyond words. "Fleur...?" We approached the wailing witch cautiously, not wanting to startle her. She finally took notice of Harry and me and sat up abruptly.

She had been hunched over Bill's body, which was mangled and broken. My gut roiled at the gruesome sight. Blood spread from his body in a pool all around him, staining Fleur's robes and splattered over her skin. I had never seen so much blood in my life; I could hardly believe it all came from one person. There was the strong metallic stench of iron in the air, which made me gag. I took a tentative step closer to the body, covering my nose with my robe, while Harry moved to comfort Fleur. Bill's clothes were ripped to shreds, but this was of minor importance, as his skin was as well. Large chunks of flesh had been torn out and tossed around, judging by the smears of blood across the floor, and lay scattered around the corpse. His face was slashed even worse than it had been last year, and he was only recognizable by his long, flaming red Weasley hair. Perhaps the most disturbing feature was the slimy heap of innards that lay besides the gaping cavity of his torso.

It was a brutal and disgusting way to die, especially for a good man like Bill Weasley. "He didn't deserve this," I murmured. "Nobody deserves this." Fleur sobbed harder in response, but Harry nodded solemnly. I turned to the grieving widow, reluctant to pester her for information but needing to get to the bottom of this. I could see a familiar gleam in Harry's eye, despite the sadness there as well, and knew that I probably looked the same. Here we were again with a mystery to solve, a puzzle to work out and odds to overcome. It was an irresistible situation, and despite the tragedy we wanted nothing more than to know what happened and why.

But of course, we had to try to be considerate, delicate. Harry looked pleadingly at me and I sighed. Why do I always have to be the smooth talker? I knelt down beside Fleur and wrapped an arm over her blood-drenched shoulder. Her willowy frame was shaking with sobs, and I wasn't sure if she could even hear me. "Fleur..."

She abruptly stopped sobbing and flinched away from me, gazing at me through her bloodshot eyes. Even with her hair a mess and her face pink from crying she was exceptionally beautiful. She looked desperate and lost as she stared at me, and for a moment it was just like watching you fall apart over your master again. Hopefully Fleur would not react in the same way, but she looked hysterical. All of a sudden, I felt rather frightened to speak to her, as if she would leap up and try to kill me as you might have done. It was an irrational fear; after all, this was just Fleur. The same Fleur who was in the Triwizard Tournament, the same Fleur whose wedding I went to. She would never attack me, not as you would, but I couldn't bring myself to speak to her. I looked to Harry for assistance, clearing my throat pointedly, and he hesitantly came forward as well.

"Fleur, what happened here? Who did this?" She shook her head, tears streaming silently down her cheeks. "Please, this is important," he implored. "Is there anyone who may have had a grudge against him?" I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at him; of course there are. Bill was a member of the Order of the Phoenix, who had just won a war. Of course the Death Eaters would hold grudges, especially with this awful new law passed. Come on, Harry, is this the best you can do?

But Fleur's eyes widened, and her hands balled into fists. "Oui," she hissed. "Greyback. 'E did zis, 'Arry. 'E sent letters to my Bill all year. 'E said... 'e said..." She hid her face in her hands and cried something in French, but of course Harry and I had no idea what it was. After her outburst, she seemed to calm down again, lowering her hands again. She was crying harder now but tried to speak again. Her voice was shaking, but just barely decipherable. "Ze werewolf, 'e threatened my Bill all year. To finish what 'e started, 'e said. Bill burned ze letters and told me not to worry, and now..." She gestured to the mangled corpse that lay in gory pieces around her.

I stated at her in horror, but Harry squared his shoulders. "Let's go to see Madam Pomfrey, Fleur. She'll give you a nice calming draught, all right?" He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, and she did not cringe this time. He looked up at me, gesturing towards the remains of Bill Weasley on the ground. "How are we going to break this to Mrs. Weasley? And what should we do with him here? We can't just leave him, but it's not like we can bring him with us…"

My heart sank. "I don't know how to tell her, Harry. Not after they just lost Fred…" I took a deep breath, forcing myself to understand the situation. He was dead; there was no getting around that. It seemed hard to believe, after all of the bloodshed just days ago. Harry seemed to agree.

"This was not supposed to happen. The war is over now. We're supposed to be safe." He stamped his foot in frustration. "How could this have happened? I thought the Death Eaters were all being kept locked up, how could he have escaped?"

I looked at him, shocked. I had not even considered that, but of course there were still Death Eaters in Hogwarts. I should have remembered that; it was what got me into this whole mess with you in the first place. After seeing what the Order had done to you, I was certain that there was no way anybody else could escape, that they didn't have a chance. Harry said it all: How could this have happened? "I'll tell the Order, they'll know what to do. Expecto Patronum Mobiliarum." I raised my wand and focused hard on memories from before the war, of hanging out at the Burrow with Harry and Ron, of childish joy and sunshine and happiness. The shining silver otter shot out from the end of my wand and stood at attention, awaiting my message. I took a deep breath, trying to find the words to explain the sight before me.

I tried to start casually, almost lighthearted. "Hey, guys, this is Hermione. Harry and I are up here on the sixth floor with Fleur, we're heading down to the hospital wing. You see… Bill's dead." At that, Fleur let out a shriek of misery and threw herself to the ground, and I had to raise my voice over her while Harry tried to calm her. I gulped before continuing, willing my next words to vanish before anyone heard them. If nobody said it, it would feel less true. "It's a real mess; we think it was Greyback that got him. We don't know what to do," I whispered, my voice refusing to stay strong and detached. I couldn't keep talking, so I sent the message off to Professor McGonagall. My eyes suddenly burned with unshed tears, and a painful lump blocked my throat. The numb haze that filled me since we discovered what was left of Bill seemed to vanish, leaving me a complete wreck. I had not known Bill very well, but I knew considered his family to be mine, and they were already stricken by the death of Fred. How much more could we all take of this? When does it end, when have we suffered enough?

Hurried footsteps sounded in the corridor, and as I raised my head I could see McGonagall rushing towards us, looking even more serious than usual. "Mr. Potter, Miss Granger, what happened here?" she asked, eyes widening at the gruesome sight before her. "Oh dear…" Her piercing gaze swept over the carnage across the ground, finally falling on the part-Veela sprawled across the floor. McGonagall seemed to steel herself at the sight, tucking away her horror and approaching Fleur. I felt enormously relieved to see her, knowing that someone much smarter, stronger and more experienced than me was now in control of the situation. "Mrs. Weasley, it will be all right now. Up you get, we ought to bring you down to see Madam Pomfrey." Fleur shook her lovely head frantically.

"No, no, it will not be all right. Bill is dead. I will not be all right." She threw her arms around Harry's neck and screamed in despair, burying her face into his shoulder. Harry looked desperate to extract himself from that position, but did not want to further upset Fleur. In another situation I would have laughed at his discomfort before helping him out, but here there was nothing at all funny about it, and I didn't move. Professor McGonagall did, though, and gently but firmly pulled Harry out of her grasp.

"Mrs. Weasley, I must insist. We'll give you a calming draught and decide how best to capture the one who did this." She turned to me. "You said that it was Fenrir Greyback, is that correct? How have you two worked that out? Are you positive?"

Harry stepped forward. "Fleur said that he had been sending threatening messages to him all year, Professor. After he attacked Bill last year, he said he wanted to finish it. Also, who else would make such a mess?" She seemed to consider him for a moment and Harry shrunk from her searching gaze like a wilting plant, but then she turned away to face me.

"We will not touch the body just yet. The Weasleys should not see this, certainly not, but this is a crime scene. The Aurors will want to take a look before he is moved, and we will ask Molly and Arthur what they would like us to do next." She waved her wand in several complicated motions, muttering incantations under her breath, and the air around us shimmered. Of course; she would need to set wards to keep others away. "I will inform Kingsley of what happened as soon as possible, we need the body examined within the hour. It will not do at all to leave him lying here, that would be unhygienic and disrespectful." McGonagall strode over to Fleur's shaking form and knelt down. "Your husband was a wonderful man, Mrs. Weasley, and he never deserved anything like this. I'm terribly sorry that you two had such a short time together. Please, do stand up."

After a few minutes, her sobs lowering into sniffles, Fleur rose from her crouched position. In an unusual show of emotion and compassion, McGonagall wrapped an arm comfortingly around her shoulders and led her away from the mangled remains of her husband. Harry and I glanced at each other, then at the body, then at the women making their way from the corridor, then back at each other. I could see the desperation and worry in his eyes, and knew that he was thinking the same thing that I was, about how the war was tearing us all apart even after it ended.

There was nothing else that could be done here, so we rushed down the stairs to reach the hospital wing with McGonagall and Fleur. Harry pulled the heavy doors open and gestured for the ladies to enter first, and then we all stepped into the ward. Professor McGonagall quickly went over to Madam Pomfrey, explaining in a low whisper what had just occurred. Madam Pomfrey let out a shocked gasp, then hurried into her office for a moment while Fleur was led to a bed and asked to lie down. Fleur wasn't having it.

"No! No! I do not want to be calm, I do not want to feel better! My Bill is dead! Where iz zat werewolf? I will kill him! I will kill him like 'e killed Bill! I will tear 'im apart! Let go of me!" She was thrashing furiously against the old professor, fighting tooth and nail to leave the room. A sudden harsh laugh filled the room, and everyone spun around quickly to face the source.

Ah, of course, you were still here recovering. It had only been a few hours since I left here, but it felt like years. How could I have forgotten you so quickly? Your black eyes were filled with a terrible glee as you watched Fleur struggle, as she screamed her desire for bloodshed and revenge. "My, what a lovely girl. Such violence, and ambition." You laughed again. "I like this one." Harry thrust his hand into his pocket upon sight of you, preparing to pull out his wand.

"You!" he shouted. "You dare to show your filthy face here? You killed Sirius, you bitch!" He strode forward and placed his wand on your forehead, breathing heavily. You didn't bat an eyelid, still focused on Fleur as she squirmed against McGonagall's grip. "Tell me why I shouldn't kill you right now, you vile piece of scum," he snarled. His insults were similar to the ones you always had for me, and they sounded far weaker in Harry's voice. Even so, I had never seen him so angry in my life, not even when dealing with Umbridge.

You glanced at him as though finally noticing him, your expression disdainful as ever. Merlin, would a bit of humility kill you? Could you not see that your life might be in danger? You reached up and grasped Harry's wrist, but did not pull his wand away from yourself. He stared at you, transfixed, his face contorted with his terrible rage. "Go on, then, Potter. Kill me. I killed my cousin, and my niece. Kill me. I tortured that Mudblood," you jerked your head in my direction without taking your eyes from Harry, "and the Longbottoms, and who knows how many else? Kill me. I've spent my whole life serving the man who murdered your parents, and I was his finest and proudest servant. Kill me. You want me dead? I'm right here and I won't defend myself. JUST FUCKING KILL ME!" you screamed at him. You looked demented, your eyes wild and your hair crackling with magic.

Harry pulled his hand out of your slackened grip and stepped back, horrified. "What are you playing at?" he demanded furiously. Despite his anger, his voice shook with fear. His brow was furrowed in confusion, and his scowl softened somewhat into a frown. "What the hell is going on…" he muttered. I looked back at you; you looked utterly miserable, like a child whose promised treat was snatched away from them at the last second. I wanted to talk to you again, but felt McGonagall's eyes on me. She knew that I understood what had just happened and why, and would undoubtedly pounce on me for information the first chance she got.

I sighed and turned my back on you, hoping to help calm Fleur down. After all, she could hardly just go charging off to attack Greyback in such a hysterical state. This was my first mistake; failing to keep an eye on you for even a moment. "Oh, ignoring me now, are we, Mudblood? My, what a lovely wife you'll make, hmm? I can hardly wait, such fun we'll have…" Busted.

Harry turned around slowly, his emerald eyes hard and angry. "What did she just say, Hermione? What's she talking about?" He spoke through gritted teeth and for a moment I let myself believe that you didn't hear him. But of course you did, and you were more than happy to take the question for me.

"Oh, didn't you hear, Potter?" Your voice was innocent, as was your expression, but there was no mistaking your usual cruelty that lurked under your false tone and sparkled in your eyes. "Your dear Mudblood and I are getting married. Didn't she tell you? She seemed just so excited, jumping at any chance to get away from my poor nephew." You pouted overdramatically and childishly. "The boy is certainly missing out, but I suppose she just prefers me." You grinned at him, a rather alarming expression that I had learned almost always preceded imminent disaster.

Harry gaped at her for a moment before he rounded on me while McGonagall stood to the side, speechless. He grabbed the front of my robes, pulling me forward so that I was an inch away from him. "What the fuck, Hermione? How could you?" Your laughter was ringing in my ears as I scrambled to find the right words. There were tears in Harry's eyes, but I was infuriated. Not just in the way you had taken it upon yourself to break the news to him, but in how easily he believed it.

"Harry, calm down. Do you honestly believe her, just like that? There's much more to it than that." He stared at me, unimpressed. "I was trying to tell you, right before we heard Fleur screaming. I would never keep things from you, Harry."

"Oh, you wouldn't? Fine, then. Tell me everything. Why did she want to talk to you in the first place? Why did you try to save her when she ran away? What did you talk about today when you came here? Why are you getting married? What is going on here?" He released me and threw me forward so that I crashed into your bed. You pushed me away to keep me from landing on you, and I fell to the ground, losing my balance completely.

It was all too much, seeing both of my best friends turn on me one right after another, with the prospect of spending the rest of my life with you looming ahead of me. I nearly burst into tears right then and there, but the only thing keeping me together was your scornful gaze burning into my back. I couldn't explain any of it to Harry, nor to anybody else. I took a deep breath before looking up at the man I considered to be my brother, who was glaring down at me with anger and disgust. "Harry, please just calm down. I'll try to tell you what I can, but I can't share everything. I'm doing the best I can." He continued to stare at me, then slowly nodded.

"Tell me."