A/N: Rated T for some strong language. Snippets of dialogue from Monty Python and the Holy Grail.
Beta'd by stella8h8chang (thank you!) I own nothing.
Chapter 4: Hermione's Arrival
"Look here, you thieving toad, I saw you grab those Snackboxes with those sticky fingers of yours!"
Daphne Greengrass waved her finger in front of the young boy and glowered at him. He looked at her, his expression just as dark.
"Y'know, you're a real bitch—"
"You - little - fart! Have you ever been on the receiving end of a Bludgeoning Hex?" She grabbed his arm roughly and gave him a shake.
"Ohh-kay!" A deep, booming voice bellowed from behind Daphne. She turned her head, almost snapping her neck right in half; Bill Weasley strode up behind her with a puzzled look on his face.
"Daphne, what's going on here?"
"I saw this little shit — OW!"
The "fart" had just delivered a swift kick to Daphne's shin and bolted past her.
"Hey! Come back here and pay for your crap!"
"Okay, that's it!" Fred Weasley turned toward Daphne as George and Bill moved to stop the kid from exiting the shop with the pilfered merchandise. "Greengrass, if you're gonna work here—"
"Which wasn't my decision, Twin!"
"—You're gonna bloody well learn the finer details of customer service!"
"Or what?" Daphne crossed her arms in a defiant manner and glared at her new boss.
"Or George and I will make you our very special test subject for our Uber-Uglyfing Sweets." Fred looked at her, the threat clearly confirmed with his slanted eyes. "Or whatever Wheeze combination that will cause the most pain!"
Daphne let out a stream of very creative expletives aimed at Fred, many of which involved him doing some very obscene things to a hag and, quite possibly, a hippogriff.
"Oh yeah?" Fred shot back.
"Yeah! And I hope it bites your Knut and Sickles off!"
"Hey," Bill huffed and jogged toward his brother and the surly new employee of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, " George is dealing with that kid, who, by the way, was trying to pocket half-a-shelf's worth of Skiving Snackboxes,"
"See?!" Daphne smacked Fred across his chest. "I was right, you . . . you . . . nincompoop!"
"OW-ch!" Fred exclaimed with a scowl and rubbed his stricken chest. "Rule number one, Greengrass. You don't hit your boss."
"You're like two years older than me!"
"And I — along with that bloke over there," Fred gestured angrily at his twin brother, "pay your wages, no matter that we're two years older than you! So you'll come into this shop, plaster a smile on your face, and stop physically assaulting the customers, even ones who steal from our shop!"
"Idiot," Daphne muttered.
"Who pays you," Fred sneered, hands on his hips.
Daphne turned around to fume.
"So, I guess things are going well, eh?' Bill said, smirking and smacking his hands together to get their attention.
"Oh, it's just fuck-ing brilliant!" Fred roared sarcastically. "Apparently, Slytherin House teaches all the little snakes exactly how to excel at customer service! Bumper crop of retail workers this year, lemme tell ya!" Fred looked at Daphne furiously.
"I — was — right!" Daphne hissed through her teeth.
"Time out." Bill held his hand up in a "T" gesture. "Fred, I'm going to take Daphne back to the Burrow. I take it you and George can handle things here."
"Oh, we'll be fine! Just dandy!" George exclaimed angrily as he came up behind Bill. "Fred, I got the merchandise back from that kid, and cast a Pilfering Prevention Jinx on him, so he'll think twice about shoplifting anywhere. Bill?" George asked, addressing the eldest Weasley brother.
"Yeah?"
"Seriously, feel free to chuck this one," George glared and pointed at Daphne, "right into Knockturn Alley, preferably into some Death Eater-y nest."
She glared right back at him. "I. Was. RIGHT!"
"Oh, it only took you threatening ten other customers with bodily harm before you got the one that was actually shoplifting!" George rubbed at the bridge of his nose and let out a breath. "Favorfordadfavorfordadfavorfordad--"
Bill nudged Daphne, a very Ron-like lopsided grin growing on his face. "Thanks so much for this!"
Daphne looked at Bill as if he had just spoken Gobbledegook. "Whaddya mean, 'thanks'?"
"You've managed to do the one thing the entire Weasley family's never been able to do. You've broken the twins!" Bill gave Daphne a huge smile.
"Oh, sod off, you prat!" Fred swatted him in the chest, but his humor was starting to return to his voice.
Bill snorted but continued to grin. "Daphne, we've gotta get you back to the Burrow." Bill turned back to Fred and George. "You two coming over for dinner? Y'know Mum's got a roast going . . . well, so says Dad." Bill gave a small wink to his brothers.
Fred and George looked at each other, and then looked at Daphne simultaneously; they narrowed their eyes mischievously. "We're there," they said together.
"And . . . we might come with gifts, Greengrass," Fred said with a troubling grin and cocked eyebrow.
"Ones that bite!" George finished.
"Oooh! I'm quivering in my trainers," Daphne said, with a sarcastically frightened expression. She whipped off her work apron and doffed it onto the counter. She turned away from the twins and followed Bill out of the shop, but not before her stomach did a nasty somersault.
Which happened anytime she set foot onto Diagon Alley these days.
Bill and Daphne started walking toward the Apparition Point. Daphne made a point to keep her eyes planted firmly ahead of her or on Bill or Arthur or on whomever traveled back with her to the Weasleys' home. Keeping her eyes focused ahead of her forced Daphne to not look at the wood covering the shops' windows, the scorched and burned façades from what looked like small, magically cast fires, magical graffiti cast upon the planks of wood, flashing different variations of the same thing: "DIE MUDBLOODS DIE!" "NO PLACE FOR MUDBLOODS!" "MUDBLOODS GO—"
"Did you know that Fleur really likes you?"
Daphne snapped out of her reverie. "What? Who?"
"Fleur, you know, or, as Gingersnap likes to call her . . . 'Phlegm'."
"Oh," Daphne said, in between a couple of awkward coughs. "Well, I'm glad. Fleur's got taste." She gestured toward him and gave Bill a small grin.
"You might be right about that," Bill said mildly. He scratched at a couple of the scars on his face, and Daphne watched his face fall just a little bit. "She really would like to be there for you more," he continued after a couple of seconds. "Actually, she'd like to be there for you and Ginny and Hermione."
Daphne snorted. "Dunno what she could've done for me, other than listen to me bitch about last year."
"I don't think she would've minded that at all. She said you were a good listener and you were there for her when she needed to talk to someone. She would've returned the favor for you." Bill stopped walking just before they reached the Apparition point in Diagon Alley. He turned toward Daphne, and spoke with a gentle smile on his face. "You shouldn't ever feel like you can't come to any one of us if you need something, even if it's just to talk."
Daphne raised her brow with a humorous, disbelieving expression. "Does that include Fred and George too?"
Bill snorted. "Fair point. But you do know you can always start with Ron, Fleur or Mum."
Daphne cocked her head; her eyebrows drew together. "You seem to be doing all right for a bloke whose . . . whose . . . er, whose—"
"For a bloke whose face's been half-eaten, you mean?"
Daphne blanched. "Erm . . . I – I didn't . . . it wasn't . . . shit!'
Bill held up his hand to stop Daphne's spluttering. "You don't grow up a Weasley without developing a rather wonky sense of humor about things." He shrugged. "I might not have the exact same face that I had before, but my family's all here, and I'm marrying the absolute, most beautiful and brilliant girl I've ever met, objectively speaking, of course." Bill smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. He turned back to her, still with a small grin on his face, but Daphne couldn't see too much amusement behind it. "I'm okay with the little bit of flesh lost during battle."
The Slytherin shook her head. "Bill . . . y'know if I had," Daphne lowered her head and cleared her throat. "If I had worked harder, l-last year—"
"No."
Daphne's head shot up. "What do you mean 'no'?"
Bill gave her a stern look. "I know what you're going to say, because I've had this conversation with Ron already. It's no one's fault. No one's. You can't, shouldn't, and won't keep beating yourself up about this. The only one, the absolute only one whose fault this is is Greyback's. Period."
"I still feel—"
Bill shook his head. "Don't. Daphne, I'm telling you it's not your fault, and Fleur and I want you to feel accepted and wanted with our family, okay?" He brought them over to the Apparition Point. "Hey, I don't know about you, but I'm starving. Let's head on back to the Burrow, eh?"
Daphne looked at Bill's smiling face. Shaking her head at the eldest Weasley son and speculating as to how this family managed to be so completely barmy and wonderful at the same time, she took Bill's arm and Side-Along Apparated back home.
"RON! I can't believe you!" Ginny bellowed at her older brother from the doorway to his bedroom.
"Ginny," came a mocking tone in response, "I – can't – BELIEVE – you!"
"Ronald Bilius!"
"Ginebra Mobby Memememe!" Ron said childishly.
"AARGH!" Ginny ran toward her room to grab her wand.
(I'm gonna throw him the worst Boiling Blister Hex!)
(I'll give him boiling blisters all over his behind so bad he'll —)
Unfortunately, Ron's very long legs allowed him to overtake her in the race to get to her wand. He held it high above his head; no amount of jumping would be enough for her to reach it.
"Give. It. Here. WEASLEY!"
"Like I'm gonna give you the means to wreck havoc on my body," Ron said sarcastically.
"YOU were the last bloody male to use the toilet in this house! YOU didn't put the bloody seat back down. I fell in!"
"Hark, whose fault is it that you didn't look first before you sat—"
"YOU ALSO FORGOT TO FLUSH THE DAMN THING! My bum's all nasty and wet and . . . well, Godric knows what else!" Ginny gave a disgusted shiver. "It's so — so gross!"
Ron snorted and sniggered at the same time.
"What the hell are you laughing about?" Ginny asked, narrowing her eyes and fisting her hands on her hips.
"Ya got piss all over your bum!" And Ron doubled over in laughter.
"Oh that's it!" Ginny hurtled toward Ron, her fists cuffing him right in the arm and chest area.
"Hey! HEY! OW!" Ron said, ducking and running out of Ginny's room, her wand still firmly in his hand. The siblings stampeded down the stairs, shouting, wailing and punching at each other.
(Have to get my stupid wand!)
"Give it up, you dungbomb!"
"Never, Gin! You'll have to pry it from my cold, dead fingers," Ron huffed as she continued to beat away at him.
"Oh, don't think I won't try—"
"Ron! Ginny! I swear, the two of you act like a couple of seven-year-olds instead of the seventeen-year-olds that your birth certificates claim you are."
The youngest Weasleys stopped their wrestling match as soon as they heard the not-too-dulcet tones of their mum.
"MUM! Ron didn't put the toilet seat down—"
"The brat's complaining and all she had to do was look behind her to see if her porcelain throne was ready for her behind—"
"—which is disgustingly drenched, I might add!"
"En-nough!" Molly exclaimed, sweeping her hands in front of her chest in a final manner. She was clearly finished with Ginny and Ron's bickering, and they knew it.
Both Weasleys shut up, and Ron put both wands behind his back, where Ginny promptly snatched hers out of his grasp.
"Oi!"
"It's my wand, Ron," Ginny seethed.
"So long as you don't hex me, Ginevra," Ron sneered back at her.
A loud POP tore through the air of the Burrow.
Ginny instantly recognized the sound of somebody Apparating outside the wards of the Burrow.
Molly gave a little jump, and hurried with soft steps toward the door, glancing quickly at their family clock, letting out a breath.
Ron and Ginny suddenly tensed up, their hands squeezing the hilts of their wands. They were prepared for whatever it was just outside . . . walking on the soft grass . . . stepping on the old wood boards . . . steps creaking . . . approaching the door—
"Molly, it's Arthur, with the precious cargo. What do you like to call me when we're alone together?"
Ron and Ginny chortled and fell into coughs to cover up their amusement when their mum blushed.
"Mollywobbles, Arthur," their mum mumbled.
"Yes, dear. Now, ask me my question."
"What is your greatest ambition?"
"To find out how airplanes stay up in the air," Arthur Weasley replied. With a satisfied nod, Molly opened the door.
She hugged her husband tightly and gave him a quick, but loving, kiss on the lips.
"Bill's on his way with Daphne and he'll go back to pick up Fleur from Gringotts. Lupin, Tonks and Moody are on their way to the Heathrow Aerial-port—"
"You saw them off, all right then, Dad?' Ron asked anxiously and he stepped forward.
Arthur nodded. "Don't worry, Ron. We made sure to get Mr. and Mrs. Graham and Helen Chapman off to their new home in Australia to keep them safe and sound." Arthur's face then fell into a soft smile with a hint of sadness. "And we are now entrusted with their most sacred possession." Arthur gestured toward the open door — at the same moment an orange cat with a squished-up face jumped over the threshold.
"Crookshanks!" Ginny reached down to scratch the cat behind its ears. She felt Ron run outside the door.
"Hermione!" Ron exclaimed. Ginny looked up to see her brother grasping and lifting Hermione off of her feet. She had her face buried in his shoulder and her arms wrapped around his neck. When they finally pulled apart, Ginny could see Ron bent over, his forehead touching Hermione's.
Neither moved.
Neither spoke.
Neither seemed to breathe.
It was Molly who broke the silence.
"Hermione, dear, come inside and have some hot cocoa and a bite. I'm sure you're famished." Molly put a hand on Hermione's back and guided her into the house. Ron followed her inside and took the nearest seat to her at the table.
It was the first time Ginny had been able to get a good look at Hermione. Her cheeks were red and blotchy and the whites of her eyes were almost as red as the rest of her face. She was breathing in a halted manner. Ginny reached out to grasp her left hand.
"Hermione, I . . . I'm sorry. About your family. They'll be all right, y'know? You'll see them again."
Hermione wiped at her eyes and smiled weakly at Ginny. "Th-they'll be safe. I know they'll at least b-be safe getting to the air- . . . airport." She sniffled and her brow and chin wrinkled as Hermione tried to stem a new wave of tears. Ron reached over to rub her back and Molly placed the mug of steaming chocolate in front of her. Hermione inhaled deeply as she accepted the offering.
"Um, Mrs. W-Weasley," Hermione stammered.
"Dear, please. Call me Molly."
Hermione smiled sadly, although her face was red and streaky and her eyes were undeniably moist. "M-m-molly, would you mind if I took my trunk up to Ginny's room? I'd like to g-get s-settled . . ." a soft gurgle escaped her throat, heralding more tears.
Ron and Ginny both shot up out of their seats at the same time. "We'll help!"
Hermione gave a small, wet chuckle. "I'd like that, thanks."
Another loud POP startled the group huddled in the Weasleys' kitchen. Arthur approached the door.
A collective sigh was released once they heard Bill's deep voice resonate through the wood, answering his father's questions and asking his own.
"Hey, Hermione," Bill said, as he entered into the Burrow with Daphne in tow. "Daphne, I'll leave you with Mum and Dad. I'm going back to pick up Fleur for dinner, Mum. She had to finish up something with work."
Molly nodded and strode forward to her eldest son. She grasped his face firmly and brought his head down to her face and kissed him on both cheeks.
"Be careful, please." Molly gave him a couple of motherly pats. There was no mistaking the worry in her eyes.
Bill chuckled softly. "Mum, I'll be gone for less than thirty minutes. Don't worry."
Molly's chin trembled a little bit. "Dear, I'll always worry. It wouldn't matter if you're gone for five seconds or five hours. These are dangerous times, Bill. I'll worry no matter what."
The small gap of silence was broken as Arthur approached Bill and patted his shoulders. "Son, why don't I go with you to pick up Fleur? I could do with a quick inquiry at Gringotts about our vault."
Bill shook his head. "Seriously, you don't have to--"
Arthur waved his hand dismissively. "We can catch up, and I can give you some long-awaited marriage advice." Arthur touched the tip of his nose with a long finger and winked at Bill, who rolled his eyes at his dad in defeat. Arthur took his son by the shoulders once again and, after some goodbyes, steered him outside of the house to Apparate outside of the Burrow's wards.
"Hermione, how are—" the words died on Daphne's lips as she got a better look at the girl, who clearly wasn't all right.
"Hello Daphne. We were just going up to Ginny's room. Come up with us?" Hermione's voice sounded strained and muffled and Ginny noticed Daphne wince sympathetically at the sad tone of Hermione's voice.
As soon as the three teens reached Ginny's room, they shut the door. Ron cast the Muffliato Charm to prevent his mum from eavesdropping.
Hermione sat down on Ron's bed and let her head fall into her hands. Ron, Ginny and Daphne waited for a few moments for Hermione to compose herself.
Taking a few deep breaths, the smartest witch of her year lifted her head, blinked and looked at them.
"I'm s-sorry about that. About losing it like I did downstairs."
"Hermione," Ron said; he sat next to her and put an arm around her. "You've got nothing to apologize for. You did something incredible for your parents. They'll be safe thanks to you and to the guards that'll be watching out for them."
"I hope," Hermione said, her voice thick and distant, and her eyes staring at some fixed point across the room, "I hope that no one suspects that they're using aliases. Graham and Helen Chapman," She grinned lopsidedly, and Ginny and Daphne found seats on the floor in front of her. "Dad loves Monty Python," Hermione started. Daphne chuckled.
"Daphne, you're a Monty Python fan?"
Daphne cleared her throat and a huge smile spreading across her face. "Your faaa-ther was a hamster, and your mother smelt OF ELDERBERRIES!" She spoke with an overly-affected French accent and she finished with a haughty pout.
Hermione giggled. "Oh, but you can't expect to wield supreme executive power just because some watery tart threw a sword at you. Help! Help! I'm being repressed!" she exclaimed; her voice still sounded thick, but she couldn't keep herself from laughing.
"Er, what?" Ron asked, although he was smiling at Hermione's ever-increasing glee.
Hermione chuckled. "Monty Python is a Muggle comedy troupe. They're everywhere in Muggle Britain: on the telly, in the movies, in books . . ." She looked at Ron and smiled and put her hand on his cheek. "One day, when this is all over, I'll make sure you and your family watch the movie where they act as King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table and search for the Holy Grail." She winked at him, "They even have some wizards in the movie."
"Well, I should hope so! What would Arthur be without Merlin?" Ron responded. Daphne held back a snort.
Hermione sighed. "I thought it'd be nice to name Dad after his favorite member of Monty Python, so Graham Chapman it was." Hermione's face fell and she picked at the hem of her blouse. "I chose 'Helen' for Mum because she loves watching 'Prime Suspect'." Hermione looked off into the distance. "Helen Mirren. She plays Jane Tennison on that show. Mum loves her acting. She loves that program so much . . . She loves mysteries, Mum does." Hermione's eyes passed over the other occupants of the room. "They don't know anyone in Australia. No one would know who they really are."
Hermione paused and swallowed. "It's silly of me, right? It's just names, you know? Just names of a couple of entertainers that Mum and Dad like. I don't know why I'm putting so much thought and worry into something so trivial—"
"No more trivial than me singing Beatles songs or Rolling Stones songs or John Lennon or Zeppelin or The Who whenever things get really bad, or whenever things out there," Daphne nodded toward the window, "get really dark and dangerous and it looks like Voldemort has the upper hand." She turned back to the others. "It's what we do. We cling to the things that make us happy when times are dark. Hermione, you were giving your parents something they love that they could take with them. If you couldn't be there with them, they'll have a small bit of their old life wherever they are in Australia."
The other teens looked at Daphne with rather surprised expressions.
"Wh- . . . er, was it something I said?"
"No, it's just . . . that was . . ." Hermione stopped and got up off the bed. She walked over to Daphne and gave her a hug, which Daphne clumsily returned.
"That was really, really nice," Hermione said as she continued to hug her.
After a couple of beats, Daphne coughed awkwardly. "Er, Hermione," she said as Hermione continued to hug her, "how much longer are you gonna go on with this?"
Hermione broke apart from Daphne and regarded her carefully. "Honestly, a good hug between friends isn't a bad thing. You should get used to it, particularly if you're staying with the most physically demonstrative family I have ever known."
Ginny nodded. "Yup! Don't expect to go a day around here without being squished by Mum. She has a compulsive need to squeeze the life out of every one of us."
"Yeah, I figured that after seeing the little display with Bill downstairs," Daphne said, chuckling. "It's . . . I've never, well, I mean . . ." she stuttered, "I'm just not used to this, is all."
Ron smiled at her. "Well, it's high time you did get used to it. Living here with us means you're as good as family!"
Daphne smirked. "I guess so."
