Chapter Twenty-Three
Author's Note: Thanks so much for reading! I've finally finished exams [YAYYYYY!] so I'm hoping that I'll get back on track and start updating more frequently. Thanks for bearing with me and the slow updates for the last little while! – SJ [PS. Anyone else going through exams, good luck!]
Hermione waited after she had knocked soundly on the door of Matilda Malvena McGuire's old cottage. No one came to the door.
"Hmm…do you think she's here?" She turned to ask George.
"I assume she is…she knew we were going to come today," George replied, peeking through the four-paned window at the top of the weathered door. "I don't see anyone coming," He continued, backing off from the door.
"That's odd…should we leave?" Hermione asked.
"I don't know," George responded. The pair stood in confusion before Matilda Malvena McGuire's cottage, glancing at each other while silently questioning their location.
"Aye, who's there? 'ello?"
Hermione turned a saw an old woman emerge from the garden. She wore a faded blue dress and comically large, circular glasses. Her tight, white curls were cut close to her head. Mud covered, oversized black wellingtons were on her feet and she carried a small red bucket and a trowel, confirming Hermione's suspicion that the garden, unlike the rest of the house, was diligently tended. A small House Elf was cowering behind the long skirt of the elderly woman's dress, warily peering out at Hermione and George through massive, golden, cat-like eyes.
"'ello?" The woman reiterated, phrasing her greeting as a question.
"Oh, hello," George responded. "I'm George Weasley…I was in contact with you last week. This is my girlfriend Hermione Granger."
"Aye," The woman nodded in recognition of the names. Hermione's eyes widened slightly at George's method of describing her: she hadn't heard him refer to her as his girlfriend before.
"Ah, you must be Matilda Malvena McGuire, I assume," Hermione quickly composed herself and asked in a polite voice.
"Aye, that I am," The woman responded, her voice thick with inflection. "Would ye like to come'n, dears," She asked, bypassing the pair and unlatching the door to her cottage.
"That would be brilliant," George grinned, guiding Hermione through the door after Matilda with his hand on the small of her back.
"I 'ear yer interested in the Elves eh," Matilda spoke as the pair entered her house.
"I am," Hermione responded. "I was hoping you'd be able to help me. I'm working on establishing a case for them to present to the Ministry."
"Aye, yer lad filled me in on that, sweetie," Matilda grinned, revealing her yellowing teeth. "I'm sure I can 'elp ye. I've a real collection er tidbits. Yer more than welcomed to 'ave a look."
"That would be lovely," Hermione smiled gratefully. She was still doubtful that she'd find something useful at Matilda's, but the woman was welcoming and it was comforting to know that she had an ally in the House Elf cause, notwithstanding how helpful that ally might actually prove to be.
"Follow me, eh," Matilda motioned, leading the way down her narrow hall. "Er'thing's in another room." Hermione and George silently followed the elderly woman. Hermione noticed that George had to slightly hunch his shoulders in order to walk comfortably under the low ceiling. The scrawny House Elf continued to scamper shyly beside Matilda, possessively holding onto a fistful of the woman's skirt. "Aye, this er's Mittens MacGuffin," Matilda explained, gesturing to the House Elf who continued to shuffle along with her head down. "She's named that 'cause when she camed to me, she'd notin' but mittens that er owner 'ad giv'n'er in a fit o' rage. She could barely stand when she found me. So 'ungry, wot. Tey Did't even give'er a name, eh," Matilda shook her head angrily. Hermione immediately began to respect the older woman more at the sound of the distain in her voice when she spoke of the House Elf having been owned and the resentment she exhibited over the manner in which her friend had been treated. "Aye, warms me to see a young'un like ye take'n up on the cause," The elderly woman said admiringly to Hermione.
"Erm, thanks," Hermione felt her face flush. She was certain that Matilda wouldn't speak as proudly if she was aware of how limited Hermione's progress on the issue had thus far been.
"Woll, 'ere we are," Matilda mentioned once they walked a ways down the narrow hall, stopping when they reached a doorway. "Wud ye care for a spot o' tea?"
"No, I'm fine,"
"That's quite alright,"
"Ver' good…If ye need me, I'll be back in me garden," Matilda turned to retreat back down the hall with Mittens, the House Elf, still hovering behind her.
"Alright," Hermione replied. The situation left her somewhat confused. She wasn't sure if she was to just look around at Matilda's house at will. She had assumed that the woman would offer her more guidance on how to use her research. However, Matilda clearly trusted Hermione and George in her house without her.
"Come 'long, Mittens," Matilda said as she disappeared back outside the house.
"Hmm…what's the plan now?" Hermione asked George once they were alone.
"I have no idea," George laughed with good-natured amusement. "I suppose we just look through this room," He shrugged, opening up the door that lead to the room that Matilda had indicated was the one they needed.
"Ok," Hermione returned his nonchalant tone and followed George through the doorway. The room was small and cluttered. Knickknacks, figurines, and books overflowed in the corners and boxes upon boxes, all of which were covered with a noticeable layer of dust, were stacked against the back wall. "Yikes," Hermione coughed, producing her wand from her beaded bag to quickly cast a spell that cleared the room of dust. "What's going on here?" She asked, entering the room and studying the stacks of boxes. "Can you open that window? Get some air in here?" She asked George while pulling one of the top boxes off the stack and onto the threadbare, maroon carpet that covered the small room.
"Of course," George grinned, wrestling open the jammed window that had clearly not been opened for some time. "What we got here?" He continued, kneeling next to Hermione in front of the box.
"I have no idea," Hermione replied, already opening the box and riffling through its contents. The first thing she pulled out was a heavy file folder filled with a stack of wrinkled parchment.
"What's that?" George asked reading the parchment over Hermione's shoulder.
"Hmm…looks as if Ms. McGuire has conducted a series of interviews with a bunch of House Elves…this seems to be the compilation of her research," Hermione muttered, continuing to leaf through the pages on her lap. "Wow…there must be dozens of interviews here…I think that she has devoted her life to this," Hermione spoke appreciatively; she had not expected to ever encounter someone who was even more devoted to the House Elf cause than she.
"Hmm…this file contains even more interviews," George mentioned, pulling a duplicate file folder from the same box. "So what's the plan of attack?" He asked, not looking up from his own stack of parchment. "Should we just read through these in hopes of finding something useful?"
"I suppose." Hermione had no clue what she was to be looking for, but hoped that something relevant might reveal itself to her. She crossed her legs beneath her and started reading meticulously through the top page from her file folder. Nothing in the interview seemed particularly helpful, but Hermione continue to read it carefully. She experienced much of the same results with the next file folder as well as the half-dozen subsequent ones; there was no vital piece of information, or perfect quote, or intrinsic statistic that would conclusively claim her victory in front of the Ministry. Rather, much of the evidence she found was repetitive occurrences of useful information. After finishing the pages in her current file folder, Hermione sighed dejectedly.
"What is it Mione?" George asked caringly.
"Ugh, have you noticed anything helpful yet?"
"No…but I'm hoping. You?"
"No," Hermione groaned. "If anything, this is the opposite of helpful. Based on these interviews, you'd think that the House Elves appreciate the situation…that they'd prefer to be continued to be treated as subservient beings."
"Yup, I've noticed that too," George forced a strained smile. "This one is particularly bad," He cleared his throat and read off his page: "Question: what do you think of your daily routine?...Answer: Clancy like dishys…Clancy like cleany."
"Ugh, I'm getting much of the same," Hermione muttered dolefully. "Here's one of mine," She paused before reading a hand-written interview off the page in her hand: "Question: What would you change about your life if you could?...Nothing, Max love master. Master always right. Master know best." Hermione tossed the page down and sighed once again. "I don't know George…Are House Elves conditioned to think and talk like this or is it something in their disposition? Or are they just uncomfortable with talking out against their owners. Ugh…this whole situation is just so confusing." Hermione was aware that her words were coming faster and sounded more and more dejected, but she continued to speak in a rushed way regardless, finally venting her pent up frustration. "I'm starting to worry that I could read every book in the library and dig through all these boxes and find absolutely nothing." She paused and frowned at George. It wasn't like her to give up on a project, but the unproductive time in the library was starting to build up and it seemed more and more as if her search was entirely futile.
For a moment silence existed between her and George while Hermione fought to keep her expression stoic, knowing that showing her emotions might result in tears of frustration. George blinked twice and licked his upper lip, looking as if he was carefully thinking through his words before finally speaking.
"Hermione, do you think maybe you're looking at this the wrong way?" He asked, quietly and speculatively.
"What do you mean?"
"Well" – George paused – "Maybe instead of digging through all this, hoping to find something useful…maybe you should return to what bothered you about the House Elf situation to begin with."
"Hmm…" Hermione considered his words. "In what way?"
"There was obviously something about the situation that bothered you in the first place…on a gut level I suppose," George answered immediately with an encouraging smile. "Try to recapture what that was…others might realize it bothers them too,"
"I don't know…what if I was wrong to begin with…what if the status quo really is what's best for everyone?" Hermione's rising tone was steeped in disappointment as she let the papers in her hand fall into her lap. "I just wonder…what if I'm just sticking my nose where it doesn't belong. Maybe I'm not needed here in the way I think I am. Maybe everyone is just better off without my involvement….I mean…" Her voice trailed off, leaving the thought to linger uncompleted.
"Really? Do you mean to tell me that the smartest woman I know would have championed a cause in the way you did and be wrong about it?" George chuckled admiringly. "Hermione, I think you've always been right…just try and go back and remember what upset you in the first place…I honestly believe that it will get you on the right path."
"Maybe," Hermione sighed, intentionally putting her outburst behind her. She sat back on her heals for a moment and took several large breaths, filling her lungs with the stale air of the stuffy room. Begrudgingly, she located another file folder of parchments from the fourth box and started flipping through the pages. Midway through the stack she gasped, her gaze falling on one piece in particular: "Sweet Merlin…George, look at this,"
"What is it?" He asked, leaning in to read the parchment over her shoulder.
"Interview subject number Eighty-Seven" – Hermione read aloud – "Dobby." She paused and studied the tiny, grainy picture in the corner of the parchment. It was undeniably Harry Potter's loyal House Elf friend shyly grinning back at her. As she stared at the familiar image in the picture, her heart caught in her throat and her breathing slowed. "I can't believe this George…Dobby. It says here this interview was done in February of 1986…that would have been when he was still with the Malfoys…hmm…" She glanced over the page and began to read aloud sections that she thought might be pertinent: "Masters let Dobby do dishes….Masters only beat Dobby when he's done very bad…Masters let Dobby sleep in attic."
Once again, Hermione let the papers fall into her lap. Dobby's interview was almost identical to the ones she had been spending the afternoon sifting through. "This is hardly useful." She muttered absentmindedly. The picture of Dobby and seeing his name, however, caused her to reminisce about the last time she had seen the House Elf; the last time she would ever see the House Elf. It had been in Malfoy Manner, during a moment she hated to dwell upon. Instinctively, she rubbed her damaged forearm with her other hand. Time had not removed the scar from her arm. The translucent, white lettering still remained etched into her skin: Mudblood. Hermione gulped and thought back to how she had received the scar. The moment was still fresh in her memory. She closed her eyes and pictured the outraged hatred shinning from Bellatrix Lestrange's dark eyes. She recalled the fear she had experienced and felt tears prickling behind her eyes. No matter how hard she tried to force herself to forget, she was still hurt and haunted by the prejudice that had led to her scar's creation.
Hermione thought of Dobby's involvement in the terrible and tragic event. His intervention had prevented her injury from escalating. Hermione had long since considered the House Elf one of the bravest people that she knew. Even if others considered House Elves as less then, Hermione maintained that anyone as courageous and as willing to help his friends as Dobby had to be of the upmost of character. Hermione knew that she owed Dobby her life; without his sacrifice, her scar would have been the least of her concerns.
"George" – Her voice was barely a whisper as she was struck by a perfect realization – "I know what I need to do…I think I know how to defeat this law."
-o-O-o-
"Thank you so much for having us," Hermione commented gratefully as Matilda led them out of her cottage once an afternoon snack of herbal tea and crispy biscuits was finished. After Hermione had realized the direction in which she wanted to take her argument, she and George hadn't stayed much longer in the room full of Matilda's research. They had quickly scanned the information contained in the rest of the boxes, but were soon ready to leave. Matilda had insisted on feeding them before they left and Hermione and George had gratefully obliged.
"Eh, any time, dears," Matilda replied kindly, leading George and Hermione down the narrow hallway. "Sure 'ope you got wat ye was looking for,"
"I think I did," Hermione smiled boldly and brightly, actually convinced of the truth of her words.
"Eh, woll, I look forward to 'earing all 'bout yer talk, dearie…all te best," Matilda said.
"I'll write you as soon as it's done," Hermione eagerly responded, as she and George left the modest cottage. Her spirits were considerably brighter than they had been when she had entered Matilda's home earlier that afternoon. Where doubt had once stood regarding her project, she now only felt hopeful and confident. She knew her arguments and her tactics weren't a guarantee, but she was optimistic that she would be able to win over the necessary half of the Ministry in order to prevent the legislation that she was working so hard to fight from becoming law.
"Best o' luck," Matilda waved goodbye to the pair as they wandered down the walk. Mittens, the House Elf, continued to hide shyly behind her friend's long skirt.
"Thanks George," Hermione said once they had exited Matilda's front yard. "You were right…that turned out to be exactly what I needed…not in the way I would have expected…but exactly what I needed," She continued as she slipped her hand into his.
"I'm glad that it helped," George grinned as they entered the street in front of Matilda's home. "Now, did you want to apparate back to London or take the time to fly?"
"Well…it is lovely out," Hermione speculated glancing around her. The early evening was still light as the sun had yet to set. The sky was peppered with only a few puffy clouds and the temperature was surprisingly warm. "And I feel much better with flying now…so why don't we fly. Also, it would be nice to get the fresh air after being cooped up in that room all afternoon,"
"That's brilliant," George replied, removing his broom from its perch over his shoulder and commanding it to hover at the proper height. "Join me, won't you," He smiled after he had expertly hopped on to his broom, beckoning to Hermione to mount it behind him.
"Ok," Hermione answered. With more confidence than previously that day, she boosted herself onto George's broom handle, sitting sidesaddle and circling her arms around his waist.
"Feel free to hold me as snugly as you'd like," George said, looking over his shoulder to wink at Hermione. "I quite enjoy the feeling of having you pressed against me back there. Certainly beats flying alone."
"Fine," Hermione sighed lightheartedly, shimming up the broom to the point where she was securely next to George. "Ready to go?"
"Always," George laughed, kicking his feet against the ground to send him, Hermione, and his broom whirling up into the air. Unlike the previous takeoff, Hermione didn't burry her face into George's shirt. Instead, she watched as they soared away from the earth, amusedly and contently observing the sight of the Matilda's peaceful countryside village disappearing into the distance. Soon the pair was high above the ground. Hermione found herself enjoying the flight: the feeling of rapidly cutting through the chilly air, the warmth of George's torso next to hers, and the fascinating sight of the countryside beneath them. Her grip loosened as their flight continued and she realized that there was little to worry about. Even though the broom seemed precarious, it really wasn't; George was too proficient of a flyer for her to worry.
"You doing alright back there, Mione," George asked looking over his shoulder at his passenger.
"Yup," Hermione replied flippantly. Her seat on the broom was much more relaxed than it had been for the arrival flight, when her posture had been tense and rigid. Boldly, she lifted one hand from George's waist and held it out to her side. The air whipped through her fingers, pushing her hand up and down with its current. Hermione smiled; the feeling was one of exhilaration rather than fear.
"Ok, well, we're about to go through a cloud coverage," George cautioned, returning his gaze to their path. Hermione shivered as they flew directly into one of the thick, heavy clouds. Moisture surrounded her and she could no longer see George's head in front of her, let along the ground so far beneath her. She was vaguely aware that her hunter green sweater was becoming damp and that droplets of water from the cloud were culminating on her forehead, cheeks, and eyelashes. She returned her once free hand to George's hips and held on a little snugger than she had before.
"This is bizarre," Hermione commented aloud, realizing that her words were lost in the thick haze even as she spoke them. George obviously hadn't heard her as he didn't acknowledge or respond in anyway. They pair continued to work their way through the dense cumulus cloud. Hermione looked forward to when they would be out of the covering; she wanted to be able to breathe the clear air once again and to enjoy the surrounding view. Also, there was something significantly off putting about being unable to see even seven centimeters ahead. Hermione's trepidation only grew as they continued to zip through the cloud. In front of her, George's body tensed and his back grew rigid; something that Hermione should have taken as a sign to hold on with all her effort.
"Oh bloody hell! Hold on Mione!" George screamed, but his shout was muffled almost entirely by prevailing moisture and rapid movement. Suddenly, she was thrown forwards: she bounced up off the broom, her chin smacked against George's back, her grip was jostled, and she lost her sturdy hold around George's waist.
"Wh-wha-" Hermione hollered in return, struggling to maintain her tenuous mount on the narrow broom handle. Her words were cut off when, violently and unexpectedly, the broom shot up, sending their path severely off course. As the pair zoomed directly upwards, Hermione was certain she heard a loud squawking and thought she saw a mass of bluish-grey feathers in the corner of her vision.
"Hermione!" George's voice sounded even more distant than his previous yell had. Hermione's stomach churned, her hands trembled, and her mind raced with thoughts of disaster as all senses of bearing were entirely discombobulated by the thick veil of clouds and the unexpected swerve. All she was aware of was that something was going tremendously wrong.
The broom continued to zoom upwards and Hermione struggled to maintain her obviously too loose grip around George's waist. She wished feverously that she hadn't opted for the sidesaddle mount and that she was able to hold her position with her thighs and not just the weak tips of her fingers. As the force from the sudden upwards movement and gravity culminated catastrophically, Hermione's grip continued to slip. Horrified, she was instantly aware that she was grasping at nothing but air as she frantically ricocheted backwards, effortlessly tossed like a feeble ragdoll at the maniacal will of the elements.
A deafening scream filled Hermione's ears, but she lacked the wherewithal to know if she or George had created the sound.
"Mione!"
Hermione's head throbbed as it viciously slammed into the butt end of George's broom with a horrifying thud. A bright light shattered in front of her eyes. Hermione's vision flickered and her mind spun uncontrollably, but she was cognitive enough to realize that she was rapidly plummeting. Her limbs flailed uselessly as she began to descend at a shocking acceleration to the earth so far below.
Author's Note: I know, I know…cliffhanger. I'm sorry. Yah, lots happened in this chapter and I'll try to update very soon. Please leave a comment if you get the chance! Hearing from people is so very much appreciated!