Brezel: Hi. I hope Voldemorts *cough* inner values are truly well hidden. I mean… he's not a nice person. But, I tried to show that even a deeply mean person is still a human being. Even he's not a nice human being.
Ariana: Thanks a lot for the compliments. Don't about your English. My English is even worse… absolutely :o) But anyway, the whole Story has 24 chapters. So still three chapters…I hope you'll like the rest of the story too. I'm kind of proud. Actually I didn't want to translate all chapters because it takes such a long time but… I'm happy I did it anyway. Almost… but the last three chapters are shorter…
serpent3: Hi. Well I have do admit that I don't want to kill Voldemort. Otherwise… would the others persons agree with me? You'll find out in chapter 23. Hope you'll enjoy it…like it.
You become responsible forever for what you have tamed.
(The Little Price)
Antoine de Saint-Exupery.
Chapter 21: Condemnations
A hasty movement with the wand protected Hermione head from being hit by a flying past fry pan. The one, who'd thrown it, was the from head to toe fire-red shining Ginny Weasley. Thereafter, Hermione hunkered down, followed some glasses and plates which stood on the table-desk next to them.
Exactly the table, where the perturbed looking Grangers and the yelling Weasley's had sat only a few minutes ago. Till the whole situation got beyond control and the Weasley's burst out in rage and started to bomb her with accusations or, Hermione took cover again, other things.
Mr Granger pulled Hermione up, clung her protecting on to him and watched her with an aware, pensively glance. He sighed and stroke fondly with his hand over her forehead. Mrs. Granger had thrown herself like a lion-mother between her daughter and the brawly Mrs. Weasley, where she needed all her strength to hold off Mrs. Weasley from grabbing and shaking Hermione.
Mr. Weasley, who'd known what Hermione had done, at least in some way, sat sunk down on a chair in a corner and watched his folded hands. Seemed to be lost in a mute prayer. He didn't dare to speak now, because Mrs Weasley had already shouted him down in the morning, as they turned the radio on while they had breakfast.
Mr Granger was for the most time a level-headed, friendly. Even now, as he tried to protect his daughter from the raging mob, he kept calm and tried to arbitrate. "Molly, oh please stop shouting and listen to me," he begged the fuming Mrs Weasley who fought bravely with the also fury-like Mrs Granger.
Mrs Weasley did not hear the calming words, didn't want to hear them, because she was too appalled and disappointed to have sober thoughts. Ginny, who stood next to her mother, swore vilely things like traitor, scum, bitch and slut, was only outclassed by the alongside his mother standing Ron, who threw all the horrible details of the horcrux-hunt back in her face.
In the meantime, Bill Weasley, who had also known much more as he was allowed to admit, fought with his cursing brother Charley. He was supported by the rather helpless appearing Percy, who was at the ministry's side of necessity, but now sought desperately for arguments why he agreed with Shackelbolt and why they weren't entitled to question his decisions.
„BE QUIET AND SIT DOWN!" boomed suddenly a magical-boosted voice like a thunderstorm from the corner through the room. Mr Weasley had got up and paced surprisingly poised to his wife.
His a bit awed appearing sons Percy and Bill followed and gave Hermione pitiful glances. The moment their eyes met Hermione become aware, that it was the first time for weeks, that the two young men dared to look into her eyes. How much had they known all the time?
Of course, Percy and Bill felt ashamed in front of their mother but they also wanted their father to speak about the things, they had to keep dark for such a long time.
„WILL YOU ALL KINDLY SIT DOWN! THEN I WILL TELL YOU EVERYTHING IN KNOW! HERMIONE," Mr Weasley pulled Hermione away from his wife and shoved her on a chair which stood at the head-end of the long kitchen-table. "MOLLY, STOP IT!" the red-haired man ordered while he pulled his wife with him as well and tried to sit her on a chair which stood some chairs away from the shivering Hermione and placed himself between them.
She'd never seen Mr Weasley so serious and so strict like now as he stood behind his little, round wife, watching out that she wouldn't jump up to attack Hermione, again. His just a moment ago empty arms, dragged Ron and Ginny to him and pushed the two twining Teenagers alongside their mother.
Mr and Mrs Granger were surprised by two suddenly behind them along floating chairs which pushed them in the hollows of their knees, made them falling back and shoved them alongside their daughter.
„She, THEY", Mrs. Weasley spit with every yelled word thin salivary threads into the air, while her head jerked over towards the Grangers "they shall leave our house. Arthur… immediately. I don't want to see such a bunch in here" the totally hysterical women gagged out.
Arthur Weasley wasn't intimidated by her this time, instead he pressed his hands on Molly's shoulders to push his fretting with fume wife back on her seat and smiled almost embarrassed to the Grangers. "The shock, she thought this issue was over and now…"
"DON´T DARE APOLOGIZING FOR ME! ARTHUR! I´M NOT THE ONE WHO HAS TO JUSTIFY MYSELF;" the little woman cut her husband off.
"No, of course not. But please let me explain what has happened", Mr Weasley begged now almost submissive again.
„BUT BEFORE YOU MUST THROW THEM OUT, DAD! I DON´T WANT TO HAVE SOMETHING TO DO WITH THEM ANYMORE!" Ron shouted out behind his father what brought him an angry push from Percy, who held him and Ginny together with his brother down.
„BE QUIET, WILL YOU, AND LISTEN TO ME!" Mr Weasley boomed again back from the walls. Surprised by the anger in his voice and the steely determination in his eyes the fights broke up and made room for a deadly silence in the room.
Percy and Bill sat with attentive eyes alongside their siblings. Even though obviously agitated, even Charley approached frowning. Muttered silent threats to his brothers if they'd dare yanking on him on his chair forcibly.
Fleur, visibly annoyed, at her husbands appeasing manner, paced elegant but with head held high to the still with used dishes loaded table and sat herself, deigning to look at the Grangers, in the middle.
The whole day long, the family had might been to shocked to say anything about the reports they read in the Daily Prophet or heard on the radio, but now was the time they their able again to let their fume out, so they'd started to fight as Mr Weasley, Bill and Percy came home. They'd argued heatedly during the whole dinner instead of eating. They smiled patronizing at best at the Grangers, because they didn't seemed to be as shocked at this news, as the rest of the eating people in the room.
The sizzling cauldron exploded as Ron, Harry and Hermione came back. Actually it hadn't become clear of what the Weasley's exactly accused her. So vile insults flooded like a deluge over Hermione, instead of a well-conceived accusation. First and foremost they were mad at her, because she hadn't told them anything. Accompanied the Weasley's to the support group., saw the grief and despair of all the people there and was did she do? Nothing. No, even worse… went to the root of the evil to bring him something to eat and clean clothes. They accused Hermione of listening derisively to their harm. Certainly she sneered at them with her fosterling, the next day.
But nothing could have been phonier.
„Well," Mr Weasley began, fighting for air and self-control „I'll tell you now what I know. But actually I'm no allowed to, but you mustn't be unfair."
„FAIR? WAS HE EVER FAIR TO ANYONE? HE´D KILLED MY PARENTS AND LAUGHED AT THIS! IS IT FAIR, THAT HE WANTED TO KILL ME? IS IT…" the nearly torn into pieces with rage Harry couldn't say more because he'd had to press his hand at his mouth again, in order not to vomit his dinner again. It would have been the third time tonight.
The sight of the dead-believed man who never desired anything so much as killing him, added with Hermiones "defection" and the repulsively cheery mood of the accused, was more as his stomach was able to take.
George, who'd become thin and pale, sneaked rather than walked over to the foot-end of table, pulled Harry with him and sat down. "Shut down, Harry. You're not only one who'd lost someone. Let Dad finish, I want to hear it." This was the first that he'd said since he'd read the newspaper during the breakfast. It was so unfamiliar to hear him talking that way that the persons in the room couldn't help but being quiet. George wasn't that cool and he was terribly afflicted by the death of his twin-brother, which had made him serious and quite. Formerly loud and funny, he now got unsettled over yelling people, so he preferred listening to the explanations of his father than watching the just anger of the other ones.
Mr Weasley pressed his hands on his temples and massaged them. He needed some time to find the rights that wouldn't raise a new fight again. "Madame Pompfrey called for some healers after the battle. The deceased and injured people were examined and well, some of them weren't dead, they just looked like that. That's not unusual. No one examined him in the great hall after he fell to the ground. They'd also send for Shackelbolt and informed him, that "you-know-who" was still alive." Harry stared wide-eyed at him, something had come to his mind to talk the just said out of Mr Weasley: "But the curse, the curse fell back on him. I've seen it with my own eyes."
"Grazing shot, and he'd managed to weaken it." Bill commented shrugging. Fleur jerked round and stared at her husband in disbelief. Bill turned red, bent forward and looked as if he worked hard on getting invisible. "I was where too… we…. We brought him away. But we weren't allowed to say anything. Shackelbolt threaded us with sending us to Azkaban if we would. He wanted to avoid a panic as long as…"
"As long as we didn't know if he would survive. Right." His father confirmed. „Was in a
life-threatening state, of course. Lay a few weeks in a coma and Shackelbolt wanted to have peace in the country again. But as it come clear, that he wouldn't die… well, it's not sure how many death-eaters are still free. How many of them would creep back to him if they knew that their commander was still among them. So it was kept dark. Azkabans dementors like him and, that's more, who knows that they can do to someone who has no good thoughts and no soul, at all?"
So they brought him to where he was constantly watched. Besides, if people like Lucius Malfoy had heard that Vo….you-know-who has survived the battle and that they must testify against him… The rats had leaved the sinking ship, in droves. They'd disapparated in masses with bottles of poly-juice potion in their luggage. But we always wanted him to get a public conviction. And OF COURSE," Mr Weasley stopped for a moment to lower at Mrs Weasley "Kingsley forbid the hospital-stuff to tell anything" . Ron grasped for air, threw a glance at Hermione which revealed likewise disappointment as contempt. He wanted to launch into
angry protest as his father stifled "Don't look at me like this, Ron. Do you really want Hermione to sit in Azkaban?". Obviously, that Ron was stuck between a rock and a hard place. In the on hand he felt betrayed but on the other hand… "No, of course she shall not go to Azkaban", the a little unsettled appearing young man caved in, whereupon he averted his gaze from Hermione.
Harry wanted to stand his ground. „But what is this trial good for? This is a homicidal lunatic, an illness in a human shape. Why didn't you kill him on the spot? There he wasn't able to defend himself and the whole case had been settled. Why all this effort? Don't you know how dangerous he is as long he is alive?"
„Because lynch law is barbaric. Besides, it's a matter of our image in the world public. That means…money. If he's lawfully sentenced as a war criminal, we will get automatically money from other countries . Besides, then we can apply for aid money for the rebuilding and the
Victim compensation. But we need an ordinary sentenced massmurderer to get this funds." Mr Weasley explained s calm and fluently as if he'd heard this speech many times himself from other mouths.
Ron, who'd a moment ago looked as if he would give in, had now tears in his eyes. His eyes wandered to Harry who dragged with his clenched fist at something that seemed to hung invisibly around his neck. A gesture that should remind her of the horcrux they'd been wearing.
Ginny, deep-red in the face and already hoarse, cawed further accuses. "He wanted to kill us, he wanted to kill every person in this room. He had the burrow shadowed.."
"… and spied out your father in the ministry. It's nothing but a fortunate coincidence that we are still alive." Harry ended the sentence, who'd just remembered the day they sneaked hooded into the ministry to steal the Horcrux from Umbridge.
The unhappy Hermione couldn't do anything but shrugging, while she seemed to disappear more and more between her parents. "Yes, sure, I know this. Don't you thing I'm grateful that this did not happen? I've never said he was right. Yet… he was so ill and… should I've really let him lay there, doing nothing?"
The memories flooded over Ron again. Memories of the past years but also of the experiences Hermione had told him as she spoke about her job-ideas. He gagged tantalized as if he would drown at this thoughts. "Hermione, have you really touched this thing? It this really the guy you've told us about? The one you've washed and fed? You've really worried about that monster? Someone who'd nearly killed you in Godric´s Hollow? Someone who regards Muggles and mudbloods as dirt? You've spent your money for the man who'd ordered Dumbledore`s death? Who killed Harry's parents and tried to kill your best friends over and over again? Whose horcrux and evilness you felt yourself." Ron shook his head, arched his eye-brows and frowned at her. "You racked your brain over an insane massmurderer? Have you really forgotten everything? Did you forget Fred?" He pointed accusing at the empty chair by the side of George."
"No I haven't" Hermione contradicted fervidly and sobbed under her shock of hair. "What should I have done? I've told you how the hospital had treated him."
Harry banged his fist booming on the table. "RIGHTLY! DO YOU KNOW HOW OFTEN I´VE WATCHED HIM TORTURING OTHER PEOPLE? DO YOU REALLY BELIVE THAT ANYTHING THEY DID TO HIM WAS WORSE THAN THE THINGS HE DID TO HIS VICTIMS BEFORE?" Harry pointed at his chest and yelled rapidly. "I CAN´T FEEL COMPASSION! THIS IS NOT EVEN CLOSE TO THE THINGS HE DID HIMSELF!"
Hermione tried to ignore him, pleaded turned towards Ron for sympathy. "I just can't do that. I can't see someone every day and treat him like dirt. No matter what he'd done. I can't watch someone starving. I admit… I've got used to him but…he has no one but me, anymore."
Ron straightened up and eyeballed Hermione, who sunk between her parents as a picture of misery, full of nauseating. "He has no one but you? So…" silently and threatening, emphasizing every syllable „he - has – you?"
Hermione couldn't help, had to already to sob again. Help-seeking she looked around but found nothing but the repulse she'd heard in Ron's voice in the faces of the people who eye-balled her. Yet, she nodded. "Yes, he has me. No matter if you understand it or not." All, even Mr Weasley winced at this confession, widened their eyes and stared at the young woman who hurried to explain more. "Nevertheless, I am no traitor. I'd never approved anything he'd done and I haven't forgotten anything. But….seeing him every day… You'll come closer and…" she couldn't say more. The moment she spoke it out the room seemed to darken under a thick cloud cover. Hermione had said to much and the wrong. Ron got up, pushed his chair aside and paced slowly and threatening towards Hermione, where he planted himself before her, stood with his legs apart, drew himself up to his full height and spoke out what they all, considering their nauseated miens, thought. "So… he has you. And we" his pointed behind him to the other ones. "we have a new Bellatrix Lestrange. Great." Ron frown at her so bitterly that she wasn't even able to contradict. "So you got used to each other.. through all the aroma therapy, pink undies and card games you got closer? Tell me Hermione…. How close did he get to you?"
A heartbeat long Hermione believed she would die with humiliation, but her mother laid her arm protectively around Hermione's shoulder and drew her to her. "My daughter is a good girl. She took care of a mortally ill man and treated him humanly. That isn't betrayal, that's compassion. Do you really know nothing about this?" she snapped at the crowd.
Mr Granger, deliberately like always, smiled knowing to his wife and added lecturing. " What do you believe how many murders or rapists we had on our chairs? But we don't want to know it. If doctors would start , helping only the ones who'd deserved it, no one could ever feel safe again. Who deserves what and who doesn't, who can judge this? And who is ALLOWED to decide this?" he paused for s short while to make up his speech, then went on with utter conviction. "We help everybody who needs our help and that's it. This is our task. If we would begin with helping only the "good ones", we would all go down. YOU MOLLY" and all of a sudden Mr Granger was strict and cold. "you have killed a women, don't you?"
„BUT THAT WAS SELF-DEFENCE! SHE´D ATTACKED MY CHILD! THIS PEOPLE HAVE KILLED MY SON! SHOULD I HAVE WATCHED THEM KILLING MY DAUGHTER, TOO?" Mrs Weasley shouted hysterically in tears, stunned, anyone could blame her for this.
Mr Granger was still strict. „And this women? Didn't she have a mother who cries for her now? A husband who is a widower now? A sister who's grieving for her? Trust me, Molly, justice, the way you understand it, is dangerous and destructive. Don't get me wrong. I see why you've done it. You've defended your family. But our Hermione hasn't done something wrong. She wanted to help the victims of the war and so she did. Accept that the other side had victims, too. He may be a monster, but looking at it objectively, he needed help like all the other people in the hospital. She wasn't wild about this job, but shall I tell you something? I'm proud on her, because she hasn't resigned" his chest swollen with pride, Mr Granger pressed the silently whimpering, yet happy Hermione tightly to himself. Mrs Granger also puffed herself up. "The other people who wanted to work there… Their helpfulness was mostly nothing but vanity. They just wanted to get something from the resonating fame of the battles fighters. Wanted to be celebrated for their contribution. But our Hermione was courageous enough to do something she wouldn't get praised for. Something that wouldn't bring her fame but anger… cared selfless because it was needed. That's what good persons do. They help…"
Mrs Granger kissed her daughter on the forehead. Hermione's mouth trembled. Aglow with happiness, she gave her parents a grateful smile. She made to pick up courage again and found words to address the Wesley's, Fleur and Harry. "I'm so sorry about that, but I wasn't allowed to tell you anything. You wouldn't believe how terrible the last months had been. Every day worse than the other. I'd never approved his ideas and I would never help him carrying them out. I'd just took pains because all the people said that it would be a comfort to them if he would rue his doings. That's what I've tried."
„And… had it worked? Is he a good guy now and apologizes to us?" Harry sneered at her. The black-haired teenager shock slowly and convicted his head and continued lecturing her. "I can't believe that you are that naive Hermione. He's a master in manipulating people. That's Lord Voldemort. He's never sorry, he has no soul. He's just vile and that's all. Remember what Dumbledore told us? With all these horcruxes… he's not even able to feel like other persons. He's neither able to be sorry nor to feel grief. I'd been so often in his mind. Believe me… there's nothing but hate and anger."
Ginny, Ron and Fleur nodded agreeing. Mrs Weasley showed a patronizing smile and felt affirmed.
„YOU DON´T KNOW HIM,AT ALL!" Hermione yelled back desperately. „WHAT DO YOU KNOW ABOUT HIM? ALL YOU KNOW IS WHAT DUMBLEDORE HAD TOLD YOU. WHAT HE TAUGHT YOU TO SEE, BUT THAT´S NOT EVERYTHING!"
She couldn't say more because the shouting Harry cut her off. "THAT MAY BE! PERHAPS YOU KNOW HIM IN A WAY I´VE NEVER SEEN HIM! BUT BELIVE ME, HERMIONE GRANGER!" he raised his finger and pointed at her as if he wanted to stab her with it "I ´VE SEEN KNOW MANY THINGS ABOUT HIM YOU DON´T YOU! OR YOU DON´T WANT TO KNOW OR TO REMEMBER! I´D WATCHED HIM KILLING AND TORTURING PEOPLE OVER AND OVER AGAIN! I´VE FELT WHAT HE´D FELT AND NO MATTER WHAT HE´D TOLD OR WHAT WITH HE´D DECEIVED YOU! THAT STILL DOESN´T CHANGE THE FACT THAT HE´S A CRUEL MONSTER WHO´D FELT NOTHING BUT JOY AND PRIDE AT HIS DOINGS! HE ISN´T ABLE TO FEEL ANYTHING ELSE AND THAT´S WHY YOU´RE SO DUMB, TRYING TO CHANGE HIM!"
Mrs Granger rose to speak again. "Well, so tell me, you savior of the wizard world. What had you done, if they'd put him to you?"
„I WOULD HAVE RESEIGNED! ON THE SPOT!" Harry shouted back. He'd jumped off his seat and thundered his fist so heavily on the table that the there standing cups fell down. Deep red in the face, heavily breathing and with filled with hate mien he was hardly recognizable .
Mrs Granger nodded with a faked approval, while she lighted a cigarette and took a deep drag. "Very well. You'd certainly be a good healer if you would only heal the ones who deserve it. But I guess, you wouldn't have many patients. There's always a reason to reject other people."
Ginny wanted to help her friend, smacked her palm angrily on the table-desk , showing more than clear that she'd preferred smacking the Grangers. "WE´RE NOT TALKING ABOUT MUNDUNGUS FLECTHER! THAT´S NOT A SMALL-TIME CIRIMIAL! THAT´S THE DARK LORD! THIS IS THE FOE! WE DON´T FRATERNISE WITH HIM! YOU CANNOT BE ON HIS AND ON OUR SIDE! THIS IS BETRAYAL AND, HAVE YOU FORGOTTEN, DIDN´T YOU ALSO SAY THAT WHERE´S NO WAY TO STOP THAN KILLING HIM?"Mrs Weasley pointed at her daughter, Fleur applauded while Bill sat pensively beside her, the hands folded in front of him on the table, swaying back and forth.
Hermione's parents didn't let her down. Mr Granger stood up from his chair, stepped aside and placed himself behind Hermione, his hands on her shoulders. "Are you not ashamed?" his eyes slid reproachfully from Ron over to Harry, back to Ron, while he patted his shivering daughter the shoulder. "Our Hermione risked her life for you. Not only the last year, over and over again."
Mr Granger loosened from Hermione, paced with a upraised hand through the room while pleading like a lawyer before the court. "Always stuck by you. Always on your side. And you've made fun of her because she'd been much to kind-hearted. What about S.P.E.W.? You've laughed about it. Overeagerly she did all she could to fight for Dumbledore`s side. Was nearly stabbed by this death-eater, yes…" he gestured dramatically with upraised hands. "Yes….by the command of this man. Of course, but is hear anyone who'd argued he is innocent? NEVER!" Full of conviction the tall man with the slightly graying but still thick hair shock his head.
The Weasleys watched him disapprovingly, but didn't object. Mrs Granger shrugged stunned. "To be honest, I don't see the problem. Where exactly did she commit betrayal as she fought on your side?" Challengingly , she arched her eye-brows, not looking to the unsettled appearing crown but strictly to Harry who shouldn't get a change to chicken out of answering.
He huffed, wriggled about on his chair, took his glasses of and drummed with his forefinger on the table-desk, while he explained with a painful, pressed voice. "Yes, certainly. Hermione has, during the past years… nobody wants to contradict that…" pensively gazes fell from the young man on Hermione, which was also eyeballed by Ron, but with an aching mien. The black-haired mans eyes wandered away from Hermione, to an unspecified point somewhere, outside the window as he continued. "Nobody said she'd fought actively for Voldemorts side. But this man is our enemy. One doesn't want to know someone like this better. One doesn't like to come closer to someone like this. One is not friendly or helpful to such a man. He doesn't deserve it."
„Then tell me, where's the difference between good and bad people if the good persons distinguish themselves with being unfriendly, condemning and refusing to help."
Mr Granger asked to consider from his corner.
Ron appeared nearly as unhappy as Hermione, slowly he found words to express his disappointment. "But that wasn't all. She didn't simply take care of him like a nurse. I mean, she bought him clothes and food. FROM HER OWN MONEY!" That seemed to be especially hard to Ron, he narrowed his eyes. „scarifies her free time and did who knows not what she else with him."
„I haven't done anything with him." Hermione defended herself fervidly against the allegations she heard from Ron during the last months. Allegations that weren't made up out of thin air. But Ron didn't know and he never should. "I cared for him because I was sorry for him. He was mortally ill, nearly starved and paralyzed. Not even 100 pounds with 6 feet 3". Hermione sobbed but continued, pointing at herself, with utter conviction. "I can't watch anyone starving and I'm proud of myself, that I've kept so much humanity being not so cold to differ between good and bad people in such things. Besides, I don't believe that anybody is nothing but evil."
„He is", Ginny objected, who'd also got up to get something to drink. Her voice was still rattling and hoarse, but calm again. "What you've told us..:" The Weasley-daughters eyes were rather sympathizing than angry. As if Hermione was a poor lunatic. "You've played games with him, you've talked to him as if he was a normal man. As if you were friends. Gosh, Hermione. You can't be the friend of a this man and our friend at the same time. It's like you're saying that all the things he'd done weren't that bad." Ginny paused for a moment. Silent tears run down her face. "It's like you're saying it's not so bad that George and all the other ones had died. That's what we resent you. And why? What did you expect?"
Hermione sighed, how could she defend her therapy-efforts against so much concentrated dislike. She wasn't even sure if her parents understood her or if they their just as a matter of principle on her side. The palms pressed on her eyes, she grimaced in pain. Every further thought ached like the blow of a hammer in her head. And it was terribly embarrassing. But if they'd condemned her anyway, she could at least explain to them why she did what she'd done. "Well," she sighed and her ears turned read. Her voice high and insecure. "I thought… I've already explained it. This man isn't stupid and if I have to see him every day… I think one should concede a certain amount of human dignity to everyone. And well, I also thought that I could might use to time we spent together to appeal to his conscience. That he's able to see, to understand a tiny bit of what he'd really done to all to everyone. He's intelligent enough to understand it. Is that a bad plan? Helping him to rue his doings?
„But that's impossible. We know it… Dumbledore had explained it to us. He isn't able anymore to feel such things. Not after all these horxruxes." Harry answered calmly. „Dumbledore, even he, who'd always seen the good in everyone. Even he didn't thought it is possible. You must understand this. You're fooling yourself.". His voice had a kind, lecturing tone. Obviously he regarded her as a stupid, naive child. Hard to decide if he wasn't right.
Hermione's forefinger shot up as if being in a lesson. "Yes, right. DUMBLEDORE didn't believe it is possible. All he wanted was to fight him. As if this would have helped. Was it useful? No… You have to admit this. Dumbledore wasn't more successful than me. So why not trying something else? Molly" Hermione clasped Mrs Weasleys soft hand."Is it his really wrong? That he shall be sorry for the things he'd done?"
Mrs Weasley smiled to the first time this evening. "No, of course not. Love, but isn't it an unwinnable fight? This man is a liar with a talent for manipulating people. If he'd been friendly to you, well, he faked it. He uses you and takes advantage of your kindness. I'm sure you meant well, yet it is naive and dangerous to deal with him."
The brunette shrugged stunned. „Maybe. But yet, i cannot make it worse. And sometimes I believe that I've made him really pensively. Something has changed, I'm sure. I don't know it, but I believe it."
„But don't you think the best way to show him what he'd done is to make him experience the same?" Mrs Weasley coughed and pressed her hand at her mouth, but made to speak again immediately. "He shall feel what pain is, that's the only way."
Mrs Granger laughed bitterly. "Oh sure. That's a perfect way. It's a could idea to show him that violence is wrong if you're doing the same." Her face grimaced repulsively. "You know what he will think? Might makes right…".
Charley couldn't contain himself and chimed in to help his mother. "What do you think he would do, if he was free and saw YOU" his head jerked towards her "alone in a street. Don't fool yourself. He hates mudbloods. He disdains muggles and mudbloods as well. He'd just pronounced that he thinks all people like you are useless and inferior. Have you never thought about this? Don't you know you're defending a man who'd kill you unhesitatingly?"
Hermione couldn't do anything but shrugging at this truth. Yes , certainly. She'd asked herself exactly this question thousands of times. How much affection were left if he wouldn't need her anymore? If he were free, what would he do then? Nevertheless… she was convinced that her efforts weren't in vain.
„I'm not stupid, but yet I believe that he'd changed." Hermione contradicted weary, although she rather hoped than believed this objection.
„ I've heard something else" Mrs Weasley tossed her the Evening Prophet „Looks like he had a great time. Seems he'd really enjoyed the trial, so far. He threatened and laughed at his victims?" Mrs Weasley got a little paler "Is proud of his murders? Proud of making our life's a misery?" in proof of this Mrs Weasley wagged the newspaper before Hermione's nose as if she'd liked to throw it back in her face.
„I think he was high. Certainly they gave him verita-serium and a lot of drugs as well. He has to take them constantly since two weeks because… he become insane. Went totally crazy because of the trial. They…they will…" Hermione wasn't able to speak on. Thick tears run down her cheeks. She sobbed and tried to ignore the appalled faces who watched her disbelievingly. "They will execute him. That's for sure." Hermione buried her head in her hands. Thick curls fell over her face and covered her nearly overflowing eyes.
"Are you sorry for this?" Ron burst out with disbelief.
„Yes!" Hermione sobbed even louder. Her mother hugged her, but didn't seem to know what she could say on this confession.
Hermione wiped her tears with trembling hands off her face. Her throat ached and she felt sick. It was so terribly humiliating. The way they looked at her made her feel as if she should feel ashamed for what she was else going to say "I was never on his side. I would never do something the death-eaters did. Don't you know that?"
The addressed persons shared unsettled looks. Stunned they looked into each other faces. Mute doubts and reproaches wandered to her. Ron stretched his arm out, not far, and touched her ell-bow with his fingertips. "I truly want to believe you. But… all those secrecies and the way he'd looked at you." Ron shivered and even Harry grimaced as they remembered the unfamiliar expression they saw as Voldemort noticed Hermione. "And now you're sitting her, crying, because something happens we all have wanted to happen. Haven't we? I don't get it."
„I don't get it, either." the young woman moaned between her curls. Her face was totally covered behind a wall of brown hair. She wanted it like what, she liked to be protected. "That's all so terrible to me. I had to lie to you and I knew what you would think about me. I… I didn't wish it to happen but I got used to him. I mean… I've seen him every day over months. And… he was in such a dreadful condition as I began. I had to work so hard to get him healthy again, till we could talk in a normal way and… and now… now I've reached so much and now they'll simply come to take him away from me." Trembling hands heaved her brown shock of hair aside and a splotchy, swollen up face surfaced.
Nobody else talked. They all looked bashful, downright embarrassed. Didn't know what to say.
Mr Granger tried to contribute something comforting. Walked slowly to her and stroke over her dark curls. "I think you've burdened yourself more than you're able to bear, Hermione. You're a much too kind-hearted person to watch someone dying."
„Is it sure that he will die?" Harry asked alienated whether he should sound hopeful or tactful.
„Yes!" decided Mr Weasley continuing to speak about the things he knew. "Sure as death!" he looked at Hermione and sighed. "Absolutely sure. Shackelbolt decided it a long time ago. No one could ever feel safe again, he he'd stay alive. They only took him with them to sentence him. Even the day he will be executed is certain."
„Mmmhhhh" Mr Granger sat himself alongside his wife again, curled his lips and threw, while supporting his upper body on the table with his elbows, disdainful glances around.
"Mmmhhh" he hummed again. "Al least, that's a certain way to obviate further murders. Why don't we kill everyone? Perfectly, no one would be left to commit any crimes."
An argument, suiting just fine to Mrs Weasley. The short, but fleshy hand with pink stubby fingers was clenched to a fist and tipped, with arduously suppressed force on the table. Evidently that she'd loved to toss him heavy objects but restrained herself from doing this because she needed to show how civilized she was, she only this gesture of anger was left to her to get rid off her rage.
"If you have any better ideas… feel free . But I can assure you of this. It's impossible to change him. He'd been showing for decades that he isn't able to anything else but cruelty. You don't know that, you don't understand, because you're muggles. He will never stop, it's the only way to kill him. Healing is impossible."
„Certainly. After killing him, healing is impossible." The graying-man gave back, laconically. "I see, this method is final. But, if I dare asking, had any one ever tried to give therapy to him? How can you be so sure if nobody has every tried it?"
Harry burst out with anger, remembering to all the conversations he had with his mentor. Impossible for him to leave Mr Grangers objection hanging in the air. "Dumbledore HAS talked insistently to . He knew him and Dumbledore believed that…".
„DUMBLEDORE HAS HATET HIM!" Hermione's shrill voice cut her Friend short. „You don't know anything about him. You don't know what were possible" she insisted. Her voice was broken, the face covered with tears but also with anger and defiance at the never doubted speeches of an old man. „Dumbledore has never really tried to talk to him. He'd lectured and condemned him, that's not the same. No one has ever tried to converse with him. Either they followed him blindly or felt contempt for him. Regarded him as a god or a devil, nothing between. No one had ever regarded him as a normal human being. Isn't it impossible to create a realistic self-perception if the rest of the world restrains to do that either? No one had ever treated him like a normal man, so how could he realize that he's just a man, too?"
Harry arched an eye-brow, obviously he didn't agree with Hermione who'd gone crazy in his opinion. "Human? He?" the smirk playing on his lips was self-pleasing. One more time he showed to her that she was nothing than a illusionary do-gooder to him. "I doubt he liked being a normal man, at all. Forgotten? He always wanted to be "special"."
„So you're agreeing with me." but it was much to sad to Hermione to be happy about her triumph. So she spoke on, wearily. "You've just said, he isn't able to be anything but evil. No you're saying he doesn't WANT being anything else. That's not the same. And I'm going to tell you now why he wants to be evil."
„So shoot. Tell my, Hermione-I-know-it-all-Granger." The addressed commented, clearly thinking that his clever school-mat was wrong, this time.
„Because no one allows him to be something else." Hermione got excited. "Have you ever thought about how difficult it is to change if nobody wants you to change? No, even worse!" the words sputtered hasty out of Hermione's mouth to express to inner conflict she'd been fighting over the past months.
„You don't want to be him anything but a beast. You can't bear the possibility that he is still a human being. Only by condemning him you can feel as truly good persons. You're only right if he is wrong. Right!" the sarcasm let her voice become stronger "You're the knights of justice. God's warriors in Dumbledore`s jihad. That's what you are."
Hermione's forefinger raised threatening, pointing at all the people around. "An old man who meant well, yet that doesn't mean he was infallible. But no one of you has ever doubted Dumbledore's decisions. You'd shut your brain off and believed everything he told you. You're not better than the death-eaters."
„Hermione, that's our house and you are our guest. But that's enough, now" Charley Weasley cut her off. But Hermione wasn't done. Should they throw her out, that were just another sign of the good-guys inability to accept criticism. "You're killing people, only because it's easy and final. But that doesn't mean that this is the only solution. I" her forefinger shot back to her breast "I was with him every day and I tell you that he is still man. A man who ´d done terrible, gruesome things, but still a man. He is, he is…" Hermione got more and more upset, tears filled her eyes again and she breathed quickly „.. such an evil man. I think you don't even know HOW evil he really is. But… that's not all." She shock her head. „Not everything about him." Hermione banged her fist on the table and grimaced in disgust. "But nobody likes to notice this because nobody wants to hear it. You don't know what he might could have been."
She took a deep breathe and went on with a thin, weak voice. "I'm in a therapy, you know?" she pressed her lips together and lowered her eyes.
"Hermione!" Mrs Granger moved a little aside and stared appalled at her daughter
„It's too much. I can't bear being caught between all stools. No matter what I'm going to do, I will be wrong. This is so terrible and I couldn't tell you anything."
Imploring she appealed to her friends. "Death all around. Murders wherever I look and it never occurred to anybody that they could try something else. Not even the "good"-side." It took a moments till the addressed persons realized that they were meant.
The young women appeared unutterably bitter as she tried making her ethical-dilemma clear. "It's enough to drive one mad. And you won't believe how awful it is being with someone who's so vile on the one, but so human, sometimes almost friendly, on the other hand. That was the worst." Her eyes closed as she brought the past months with him back to her mind. Months which bordered on experienced schizophrenia in their paradox nature.
"Do you really think it's not hurting me, to get so close to someone who'd killed my friends? Do you really believe I wouldn't cry for all of his victims? It is unutterable gruesome to know this. I can't get sleep since months because of all those pictures in my head. But this is why it is so important to deal with him. He shall understand what he has done. He hadn't listened to me, if I'd attacked him with reproaches. That was all in wished. " Hermione straightened herself, more poised again, even her audience still didn't seem to be convinced.
„Do you believe me at least, that I'm not a traitor? That it was all well-meant. That I only wanted to make the best of a bad job, because I believe that remorse makes more sense than another murder?"
One did not say anything. One had to think about this. It was head-aching complicated. But Hermione's accusers appeared rather pensively than angry, at least. Ron rose to speak and seized Hermione's hand. „ I do believe you, Hermione. I believe it was well-meant. Yet, I don't think you're right. Some persons are just evil and we will never be sure if he stays alive. He is and will ever be evil."
The smile playing on Hermione bloodless lips was wearily. "That's the difference between us."
Mrs Weasley sighed noisy. „From your mouth to God's ear , love. No I don't believe that your attempts were successful either. But you have a heart of gold and it was well-meant. So no fight about that anymore. Let's stop talking about it. I think it would be the best if you're going to bed, now. You'll have to be there again early in the morning."
So this was how the evening ended. Not really a reconciliation but a more than a ceasefire. One believed in the other ones intension, even though no one was convinced by the arguments.
Basically, Hermione didn't believe herself either. Not after this day… nothing was left than hope.
xXx
The Daily Prophet published a special edition just the same night. Although the pressman got the first information's only two days ago, they made to release an terrifying 400 pages-opus. Who didn't know the Dark Lord? Somehow a collection of all older articles or never published reproaches they now dared to show the world.
A short glance to the head-line „Massmurderer" and „free us from him" was enough for Hermione to know what she didn't felt like reading the news-paper today.
Every day she was in the ministry. It was harrowing. Not only the countless life's and destinies he had destroyed, also his behavior which had more in common with a pup- crawl than a hearing in a trial. It was repulsive.
Certainly he got drugs. His mood was much to frolicsome in view of the occasion. His eyes appeared hooded before they got covered. He burst out in laughter in the most unsuitable moments, commented never without scorn or sneer, yawned and slumped down on his chair.
Calmatives, moodlifters, neuroleptics , morphia… probably an awful lot of verita-serum, too. Probably enough to sedate a whole flock of elephants, the way he described all his crimes in detail and fool length.
Seemingly they gave him too much on the fourth day. After the lunch-break, his "watchers" had to catch him to a few times as they brought him back, because he'd stumbled over his own feet. He burst out in shrill laughter as Shackelbolt admonished him not to laugh at his victims, seemed to have problems following questions and gave not a single answer which mad even a little sense.
As the totally alienated and anxious appearing Rodolphus Lestrange told how his former master used to torture and execute his own followers, the Lord himself fell peacefully asleep.
Maybe it was better this way. Wasn't he already a dead man in the eyes of his judges? Nothing could put them off doing this. Hermione closed her eyes in embarrassment, but knew it would be better for him being drugged to the eye-balls, too stoned for clear thoughts, than realizing that really happened around him.
Better, it was better they saw him like this than the way Hermione had seen him during the last weeks. An angry, frightened nervous wreck. Yet she asked herself if the overdose they gave him was might an answer to another hysterical fit he had during the lunch-break.
Anyway, Hermione could only hope that his behavior was a result of drugs and that he didn't really enjoy his very own horror show.
Every time the glassy, hooded eyes came in, they searched for Hermione. She smiled to him, before his eyes got covered. He needed to see her, needed to know that she was there, than he was able to bear it.
However, it wasn't sure if Hermione was able to bear it. The frowns she earned from all the other persons in the hall made clear, that they regarded her as a younger Bellatrix-Lestrange version.
But, however, she'd promised to be with him to bitter end. Not a long time till then…
Ron was always with her, alongside her, but never said anything to her. He accepted her presence, but he did not understand her. All the questions he didn't dare to ask frightened him. Actually she felt sorry for him, that wasn't easy to him too. Things hadn't changed to him and Harry. But for Hermione… but as long he did not chase her away it was bearable. So she could still hope things would get better again between them.
After…
Hermione didn't want go to the pronouncement of judgment to see the celebrating crowd, but she'd promised the accused to be with him.
Today, the day of the sentence, prevailed an almost pre-Christmas mood the courtroom. Solemnly, cheerful, excited and full of face appeared the faces Hermione had to see. They looked like little children, waiting for the present giving on Christmas. It was disgusting.
If she wouldn't understand all of them, she'd surely slapped every one of them in their smiling faces.
Today was the last day of the trial and only two hearings were scheduled. Professor McGonagall, the longtime order member and of course Harry Potter.
Particularly, Harry. So much compassion flooded the room as Harry began to speak, that Hermione had nearly vomited.
Full of grudge, she listened to Dumbledore's, passed on to Harry, assumptions and orders. If Dumbledore would have with them now and requested Harry to start another horcrux-hunt, Hermione would had certainly given him a kick in the pants.
No, it was bad to think something like that. Dumbledore had the common good in his mind. In view of Tom Riddles doings, a common good was only without him possible. Nevertheless, she didn't want to hear it.
As expected, Lord Voldemort corroborated Harry Potters testimony. Without regret, motionless.
Oh sure, Harry was right. He wanted do these things. He enjoyed his doings and was proud of them. He laughed at the shocked audience and gabbed so amused as if the murder of Harry's parents had been a funny joke and he expected the audience now to laugh with him about this. But of course no one laughed, the wizangamott decided to close the argument instead and retired to deliberate.
The hall was even more crowded than before. Every seat was taken without exception, because the witnesses were back in the room. A great amount of pressman were also invited to attended the sentencing. Rita Skeeter appeared very unpleased because she did not sit alone anymore and had to share her press-row with numerous other witches and wizards, all armed with feathers and note pads.
White flashes of countless cameras enlightened the courtroom and Rita tried to daunt them all with her deadly glances. Changeless.
Xenophilius Lovegood, looking like an oversized banana, was also one of Rita's disliked neighbors and scribbled with trembling fingers his impressions on his pink note pad. Luna sat alongside him, but she neither regarded Harry, Ron nor Hermione. Father and daughter were lost in their memories of the time, as the death-eaters tried to break Xenophilus of the bad habit to write pro-Harry articles... and abducted Luna.
A short moment Luna's and Hermione eyes met, then the blond grimaced painfully and lowered her eyes again in order to stare on her fingers. Why did all of Hermione's friends have to know? If Ron had told some details on Hermione job to Luna, Neville and all the other ones at Hogwarts?
Neville sat on his grandmothers side a few rows away from them… and ignored her. If they also regarded her as a younger Bellatrix?
Poor Neville… she'd seen him so often visiting his parents. The sad but warm expression in his eyes then he was with them almost broke Hermione's heart. How could HE understand why she was able to go to HIM, after being with Neville in his parents sickroom. She didn't even understand it herself.
The squeaking of the door interrupted Hermione's pangs of conscience. Aurors walked in and surrounded the empty middle of the room, where the dock was, again. Shields were laid over the judge-loge and the audiences seats again. A tensed murmur went through the room.
Hermione shivered, her hands became sweaty. Her head was reeling and the room started to spin. A painful prickle crept from her feet over her legs, the breast up to her hands. Her breathing went shallow.
After the aurors had nodded to Shackelbolt and the door opened again. All of a sudden, there was a – everything went dark as Hermione realized that she'd just thought "dead silence"- in the room.
The aurors spoke the whisper-charm so the audience appeared like mute fishes in a aquarium as they opened and closed their mouths to speak with their neighbors.
Circled by other aurors, handcuffed, with blindfold, Lord Voldemort was guided back to the room, pulled to his seat and placed in front of the judge-loge. The aurors removed the blindfold. He should be able to face his destiny. Hermione felt sick to her stomach with nervousness.
The charges and judges stood up. A solemnly sparkle shone in their eyes but also insecurity. They looked like an angelic choir. Straight, solemnly faces, gratification in their eyes and justice in their minds they dared trying something new what might made them insecure, yet they felt poised to do it.
Kingsley Shackelbolt, the chief judge stood in the middle of the front row and held a parchment up high, clearly visible to the all people in the audience , lowered it again, bend his head and his eyes flew over the parchment. The sentence.
A decided nod, a short glance to the accused then he started to read with a deep, sonorous, magical boosted voice, which consumed all the other noises in the room.
"In the name of the people judgment is pronounced as follows: Tom Marvolo Riddle. You're found GUILTY as charged of all points." It had been certainly very loud in the hall, if the whispering-charm hadn't made it impossible. But Hermione noticed how all the eyes around her started to sparkle at this. Enlightened by all the torches on the walls, shone hundreds of wet with tears faces which beamed with mute joy, hoping for their salvation. Shackelbolt cleared his voice, looked at Voldemort who waited frozen, without any noticeable emotion, for what his judge would say next. To the first time during the whole trial he seemed to be absolutely sober.
He was totally motionless but Hermione noticed, she could see it from her point, that Tom Riddles right hand twitched a bit. He was nervous.
The tall, black man took a deep breath and revealed with his steady voice what they all hoped and waited for.
"In view of the severity of guilt, the inhumanity and the cruelness of your doings, we decided to impose the maximum penalty, even though this hadn't been done for 80 years. Tom Marvolo Riddle, you're sentenced to death . Your execution takes place on the following day at 12 o'clock in the death-chamber of the ministry. The court is closed."
The whisper-charm was broken by the blow of the hammer. Tempestuous shouts and jubilations prevailed the air. The people around Hermione jumped up from their seats, cried, laughed and hugged each other, shouted with elation, shook hands und kissed each other.
Hermione did not hear them. Didn't hear what Ron, Harry and all the other people around her did or shouted. Her thoughts wandered off from the celebrating crowd. She'd forgotten to feed the cat in the morning. With semi-closed eyes she noticed that the corners of Voldemort`s mouth trembled, apart from that he seemed to be frozen.
Then Hermione fainted.
xXx
Cold and hard. That was the first Hermione sensed as she woke up again. Under her, it was cold and hard. Maybe flagstones. Something wet hit her face. The wetness run in thin lines down her face, tickled her ears and, she coughed because she couldn't breathe, into her nose.
Dizzy, she opened her eyes. She was not still in the courtroom but in the ladies' toilet. Above her she made a sink out. Voices got louder, yet she was only aware of dull murmuring around her. Slowly the massage wandered from her skin to her brain that someone stroke her.
CLAP
This time she felt it clearly. Someone had slapped her face. Schemes got clearer, voices got louder. Ron sat next to her.
"That's a ladies` toilet." Hermione heard herself saying with a strange sounding voice. Some other voices laughed. Ron lay his arm around her and helped her to sit up straight. He'd stroked her. Harry and Ginny were with him. They smiled but appeared a bit worried too.
„Are you okay?" asked the black-haired who kneeled on the other side next to her.
„Yes!" lied Hermione. „Help me up. I'm feeling a bit dizzy. What has happened?" she added a little blabbering. The three clasped her and heaved her back on her feet. She staggered a bit but then managed to stand straight.
„You're keeled over after the judgment was pronounced. The people have romped and it was stifling. We thought we should better bring you in here, here's fresh water", the insecure appearing Ginny explained to her. But actually all three looked as if you wouldn't have a clue what they should do now with Hermione.
Ron harrumphed. He bent down to pick her wand up. Seemingly they took it with them as they left the courtroom. „By the way, a tall, black man spoke to us as we went out. He said his name is Ben. You would know him." Worried he searched her eyes. He was tensed, obviously were was something else that worried him. "He said you were allowed to go to the hospital tonight. You'd talked that over before. You can go to him, if you like. Shackelbolt permitted him to leave the ministry during the night. They..they will come for him at 11h tomorrow. Do you want...," it was unutterable hard to him to talk with her about this, his voice was timidly and got softer. "You really want to go to him? I mean…tomorrow it's over. He's dead, anyway. Your job is done, so they don't we forget everything and celebrate together?"
Harry poked Ron ungentle in the rips. Ginny's empty face filled with anger for a moment. But Ron recognized that Hermione didn't felt like celebrating, as he saw her eyes filled with tears and her suddenly ashy turning skin. Ron rubbed embarrassed his aching rips and mumbled almost inaudible. "I meant… I thought… You know. It's over now and all is well again. We can live on like before…as usual. You know?"
„But I'll go there, anyhow." Hermione hissed angrily to the pale turning Ron as she found words again. You can celebrate on your own. I'll come to you tomorrow, when…" an horrifying moment it became aware to her that was going to be at 12h "you're done celebrating." The a moment ago loud voice, now finished fading.
Her three friends exchanged meaningful glances, then nodded to her. "Shall we pick you up?" Hermione nodded silently.
"When?" Ron asked painfully. Doubts and terrible assumptions were written in his face.
„A bit after 11h, I'll have to…clean up." Hermione tried hard not losing her poise but a tiny tear sneaked into the corner of her eye.
Everything was over tomorrow. The normal course of life would start again. "Do you really want to stay with him all night?" Ron spluttered appalled with eyes wide open.
The young brunette was only managed to shrug at this question, yet she nodded. "I've promised him to come. But…Ron," she tried to think straight to appease the three persons who stared at her as if she went mad. „Don't worry. We'll only sit and talk. I mean" Hermione took a deep breath and averted her gaze "he's going to be executed tomorrow. Do you really think he will… if he never tried to before?"
It was clearly noticeable, that Ron doubted this statements sincerity to the core. His mouth trembled and Hermione believed to hear an aspirated "Tomorrow… all over". He nodded and hugged her. "Okay. 11h. We'll wait before the hospital."
„I want to talk to him." Harry broke the moment of reconciliation. Ron and Hermione let go of each other in astonishment, stared at Harry and his also astonished appearing girl-friend Ginny.
„This man knows more about my past as anyone else. We've shared a soul. So many things were running through my mind in the last weeks. Things I need, I MUST know. He's the only one who can give me answers." Harry hurried to explain. He spoke fast and in a strange high tone. If he wouldn't hurry and dared to beg for what he desired, it would be to late because he already felt his courage leaving him. "I'm begging you, Hermione. You'll go there tonight. I'll come with you under the invisibility-cloak. One hour… that's all I want. I truly want," it was clearly visible how hard it was to overcome his demurs "want to clear some things. I don't want to cause trouble. But I'd surely go mad if I'd always had to think that I had the chance to talk with him about these matters but never did."
Silence was in the room, nothing was audible than the „drip-drip-drip" of the leaking water tap. Thousand demurs run through Hermione's head . Far to much to deal with them. That's why she nodded. „Okay… so…8 o'clock. Let's meet before the entrance hall. Stay under the invisibility-cloak. But he won't be happy to see you." Her eyes darkened at this thought. What would her child, teacher, sentences to death friend say, if she'd shove him Harry Potter right under his "nose" during his last night? "Harry, promise me to behave. No matter how much you hate him. He'll be executed tomorrow. Don't make it worse."
No matter if her friends would think this was silly, but Hermione still wanted to protect her… whatever. But nobody grimaced, ridiculed her or appeared shocked. "Yes, Hermione." Harry answered relieved, nodded friendly and appeased her with his words. "I only want to ask him some objective questions. I'll go when I did this. I don't want to make trouble."
The tears which filled her eyes again, every single of them was a stab with a knife into Ron's heart, she could barley hold them back. She didn't want to talk. Just wanted to go home to rest bit, waiting for the evening. So they left… through the rejoicing crowd. Ron guided Hermione who'd closed her eyes and blocked her ears.
The least she wanted to hear now was joy. She hated this people to the core. Every one of them…because she felt sympathy for them.