Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in my story. All of it belongs to J.K. Rowling. The plot just popped into my head while I was reading DH.
***I would also like to warn you again that sensitive issues are being dealt in this story. If you don't like it, don't be rude, but please read the whole chapter before you click the backspace key.
Chapter 2
"Hermione Mum says to wake up!" there was the sound of a crash down stairs before Ginny raced out the door.
"I'm up! I'm up!" she said and dressed quickly. The kitchen and living room was chaotic. No one was staying still for long; Mrs. Weasley trying to feed everyone, George and Ron arguing over the Chuddly Canons, Harry trying to chase Pig into his cage, and Ginny trying to find her sweater in the wash. It was all rather comical.
"Hermione, dear! Eat up!" Mrs. Weasley shoved two bacon sandwiches into her hand before trying to magically clean the kitchen before they left. Talking a bite out her sandwich, she went back upstairs to get her purse and school list. Once down stairs everyone lined up in front of the fireplace.
"Molly, I think I'll go first," Mr. Weasley said. "Then George, Ron, Harry, Ginny, Charlie, Hermione, then yourself."
"Alright, just stay put until I come out! We don't need to chase you around Diagon Alley, looking at god knows what,"
"Yes, dear," he said, resigned.
When they had all gone through the fire, Mrs. Weasley appeared. Taking out a rather large brush to brush all the soot from them.
"Is everyone alright? Not woozy or anything are you?" she asked. There were various murmurs of fines and yeahs. "Alright then, I think we should be in two groups now. Those of you who need new robes come with me and The rest will gather the books with your father." Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny went with Mrs. Weasley to Madam Malkin's while George and Charlie went with Mr. Weasley, with everyone's book lists, to Flourish and Blotts.
Everywhere Hermione looked there were signs of the war. Some of the lesser shops were still bored up, and piles of debris still lingered on the street. But she was happy to note that the ice cream shop was open again along with Olivander's wand shop. When they reached Madam Malkin's Mrs. Weasley ushered them inside like a hen with her chicks.
"What robes do you think you'd like Hermione?" Ginny asked from beside her. It was very exciting for Ginny this year because when her family had been granted an Order of Merlin it had also come with a hundred galleon bonus for Mr. Weasley.
"Just something plain, what are you getting?"
"Oh I don't know…" she said coyly, then gushed, "I haven't decided if I should get green or black or a pastel colour, what do you think?"
"Your hair goes nice with green," Hermione commented not really paying attention. Ginny walked right to the newer stylish ones bouncing like a kid in a candy store.
Hermione was still browsing the sales racks when the door opened and she heard Ron gasp. Quickly she looked up, drawing her wand, only to lower it again. Just inside the shop stood the Malfoys giving of their usual air of arrogance.
Madam Malkin, who had just finished adjusting Ron's robes, looked up and a worried look crossed her face, probably remembering the last time they were all in there, Hermione mused.
"He-l-llo, how may I help you?" she asked, magicking her sewing kit away.
"Were here to but my son and wife new dress robes," the senior Malfoy said. Hermione glanced at the lady Malfoy and was surprised to see her looking withdrawn. Almost as if she would rather not be there. Malfoy Jr, however, looked as if he was not there.
"Of course, of course," Madam Malkin squeaked, and bade the young Malfoy onto the small platform. Hermione, still hidden from view, watched curiously as Madam Malkin took off his robe and came back with different ones of various colours. Hesitantly, Lady Malfoy selected a deep blue and black one, also asking for emerald stitching.
Hermione, though, was not focused on what they were saying but was rather transfixed by the young Malfoy's left arm. Right below the elbow hollow was a faint scar that looked as if someone had smashed a rock onto it creating a distorted mark upon his otherwise smooth skin. But she new it was where the dark mark used to reside and that if someone were to look at the senior Malfoy's left arm, there would be a similar mark. Hermione drew her gaze away up into his face and at first thought she was looking into a mirror. It seemed like her grief was echoed on his, her sleepless nights the dark half-moons under his eyes, her eyes hazel eyes that had seen too much his silver ones. Silver eyes that were looking at her as well.
With a start, Hermione bumped into the clothes behind her. Hesitantly, she chanced a look back at him, but instead of the anger she expected, he looked only mildly surprised, already retreating further into his mind. Lucky cockroach Hermione thought with out her usual spite. Sighing, she walked over to where Harry, Ron, and Ginny stood in a little huddle.
"-- they have the nerve to walk outdoors!" Ron was saying in a furious whisper. Ginny made room for Hermione then added
"I wonder how many people tried to do them in while they were outside," her voice though, was curious rather than hostile.
"At least they don't look like they're enjoying themselves," Harry said. But Hermione was disappointed to note that he too, still had a small grudge against them, though a lot less than Ron's.
"Well I think we should just drop it," Hermione said. "Just don't go picking a fight; we don't need anymore of those." Ginny and Harry seemed a bit put out but Ron was outraged.
"But Mione!" Ron said, shocked. "How can you stick for them!"
"It's not about me sticking up for them Ronald!"
"Then explain what you're doing!"
"I jut don't want anymore petty fights,"
"So now we cant stick up for ourselves?"
"Who's even attacking you? We are in a clothes shop!"
"But you're saying to not fight back!"
"Who are you fighting back?!" Hermione said, her voice rising slightly, she hadn't felt this worked up in ages and it felt oddly satisfying.
"Well them of course! Have you forgotten about who those people supported? Who they helped in his killing and torturing?!" Ron was shouting now and Hermione could feel tears welling up.
"Of course I haven't!" she screamed back. "But you know it's because of Lady Malfoy that Harry's plan worked! Harry even testified for their safety! don't you dare say I don't remember!"-- "Crucio!" "Please stop!" crack -- her breathing was becoming heavy. "Your talking about past crimes Ronald!" -- "You foul, loathsome, evil little-" -- Open your eyes, are you really saying you have yet to forgive them? The war is over and please do not start another one, not when we our wounds are still fresh!"
"But Mione, what's to say they've changed? how do can you protect them! It was your type specifically that they were trying to exterminate!" -- "evil little cockroach!" --
"and what exactly is my type?!" she spat back.
"A mudbl- uggle born," there were gasps all around the room for Ron's slip, his eyes had gotten large and panicky.
"A mudblood? Is that what you were going to say?" Hermione willed herself to seem unaffected, suppressing her tears.
"That's not what I meant!" his voice had gone up an octave, his ears red.
"I think that's exactly what you meant. I am a 'filthy little mud blood' after all," she stared him right in the eyes knowing he was hurting from this almost as much as her, but for entirely different reasons. "I think I'll get the rest of my things alone," she said loftily to Mrs. Weasley. Mrs. Weasley looked on the verge of tears herself, but she nodded mutely. Turning away from Ron, she walked back at a controlled pace towards the door. In front of it stood a shocked Mr. Malfoy.
"Excuse me," she said politely. Warily, he stepped aside. As Hermione stepped out she glanced back and was held by a pair of silver eyes, mirroring her pain. She nodded in acknowledgement and closed the door quietly behind her.
Hermione was browsing the selections of Apothecary, dashing away any stray tears. Her basket was extremely heavy by now, Hermione stocking up on everything she had and might need for her NEWTs. But really just so that by the time she was done, she could go to Flourish and Blotts without fearing a run in. Carefully, Hermione set down a phial of salamander tongues pickled in dragon blood. She had read somewhere that it had twice the effect for newt based potions.
"All finished miss?" an old man asked as she set her basket down on the counter. He seemed kind and a bit too fragile to be around so many fatal ingredients.
"Yes, sir,"
"Well lets see, hmm… starting your seventh year I see…yes I had purchased this exact brand when I was you're age…oh essence of dittany?- yes very handy, though there's nothing like knowing the spell…hmm… well your total is… five galleons and two sickles."*
Hermione paid him, placing a mobiliarbus and shrinking charm on it.
"Have a nice day," he said, and she gave him a trembling smile.
She quickly made her way towards Flourish and Blotts, with her things trailing behind her, the sun's position well past midday. It was only when she stepped into the shop that she remembered she had given her list to Charlie.
"Damn it," she cursed and went looking for the little wizard at the counter.
"Hello, how may I help you?" he asked. she hesitated before answering, sure he would think her incompetent.
"I've lost my book list earlier, I was wondering if you might know what NEWT students would need?" he laughed airily before replying,
"You wouldn't by any chance be Hermione Granger would you?" she smiled slightly and nodded. He reached under the counter and pulled out a large stack of books.
"A young man came in earlier saying to a double of everything on his list then told me to give this to you when you came in." he gave her a folded piece of parchment.
H. Granger--
I thought you'd like your books. It didn't seem like you were going to get them anytime soon after that major scene you and Weasel-face made.
I'm assuming we have the same classes since I'm head boy and you're obviously head girl.
Pay for them yourself, I'm not gonna make you a charity case
--D. Malfoy
Hermione laughed and reached for her purse. Looking over the books she saw that he was indeed correct about having all the same classes.
"So how much are the books?" she asked the little wizard.
"That'll be ten galleons and four sickles," he told her. She handed them over and placed a shrinking charm on them before carefully stacking it in her bag behind her.
"Thank you," she said to him.
"You have a nice day now," he said. She nodded and went into the leaky cauldron ordering a butterbeer before her bus home.
"Hermione sweetie!" Jean Granger greeted her. She had Hermione's same hazel eyes, small nose, and dark brown hair- though being middle aged seemed to make it much more manageable. But there were other things about her that didn't go unnoticed by Hermione, her frame was smaller-thin, and there were more wrinkles on her face than she remembered . It had been months since her last visit, and even that was just a fleeting reunion before she had to step back into the wizarding world.
"Hello, mum!" she said thickly.
"Oh well, come in, come in." Hermione stepped in a nice two story brick house. It was old fashion with a Victorian feel located near the edge of London.
"How are you, mum? Is everything with the dentistry all right?" Hermione still felt guilty about making them move to Australia.
"Oh, were fine! Reopened our private dental office again. Most of our clients have even come back!" she was fussing over Hermione's lack of luggage and Hermione decided she liked the feeling of her mother being well motherly with her. "Just wait for your dad to come home! He'll be so excited! Oh, I've got to check on the chicken. Come on!" Hermione trailed her mother into the kitchen at the back. Everything looked the same as when she had left it during her school years. It was a nice thought to think the death eaters had overlooked this place. Just then the front door opened. There was the sound of things being put away before
"Mmm! Something smells good!" she heard her father boom from the hall. "I just finished fixing a little boy's braces. I've told him time after time not to chew gum and what does he do? Got a big wad stuck all around the wiring it took over an hour to-- Hermione!" he yelled, shocked.
"Daddy!" she yelled and went hug him. He squeezed her back and said
"If I knew you were here I would have come home sooner! How are you? Is everything alright?" he seemed to be bouncing on the balls of feet, ecstatic. He was a compact man, slightly taller than her five-foot seven, with brown curly hair.
"I'm fine, I'm fine! How are you?"
"Oh you know me! Just give me a book and I'm good,"
"Sounds like someone else I know," her mother teased her. Hermione gave a small smile.
"I missed you both," she told them.
"we missed you too," her father said gruffly. He was more of a scholar man who preferred to read rather than express his emotions.
Hermione smiled and told them she would set the table that night.
Laying in her room, she reflected on how ordinary it looked. From the queen sized bed to the soft squash gold walls and lavender linings. Even her book shelves full of science and history texts were still there.
Flipping onto her stomach she toyed with her wand and bit her lip. She didn't want to go back to the Burrow but she needed her things. There was a spell that would possibly work but there were two reasons she didnt want to use it. One- it was an illegal, unregistered spell. Two- she had made it. It was similar to the accio charm but instead of making it zoom through the air, it sort of disaperated the object. Deciding she had no choice and that there was no reason it would work on apples but not luggage, she cast a silencing spell around her before she waved her wand in a vertical spiral and said in her mind Apscio.
A noise like a gun shot sounded and after a puff of chalky smoke disappeared, she saw that her luggage was on the floor. Surprised that it had worked, she opened it to make sure every thing was alright. It was still neat and orderly, just how she had left it last night. The only thing out of pace was a silver knife. . .Stop or she dies!...there was cool pressure at her neck, but her mind was to fuzzy to comprehend anything then.
She picked it up and turned on her bedside lamp. The blade was still as clean as the first time she saw it, first time she felt it. No matter how many times she threw it at the wall or stomped on it, it was still clean, shiny, sharp. There was something dark about it though- it never let any cuts heal the magical way. Probably a torture instrument, Hermione thought. With the thought, however, the day's events unraveled in her mind, clear as day. There was a bitter taste to her memories, it cut at her like the knife did, and still does when she sleeps. I'm so weak, she thought bitterly. I'll make myself stronger.
Delicately she held the knife over her arm, pressing down lightly. A thin trail of red beads appeared both frightening and exhilarating to her. The pain was acute, then dull, like a shot from a muggle doctor. Breathing deeply, she watched the red beads roll to the floor, not making a sound. Stronger
*if your like me and like knowing everything the prices are as follows:
Galleon- 5 pounds or $9.75
Sickle- .29 pounds or $0.57
Knut- .01 pounds or $0.02
A/N: so tell me what'cha think! i really hope I'm not confusing anyone.
reviews are greatly apreciated!
hope you liked it.
-A
11-14-08