Thanks everyone for the reviews, alerts and faves. Keep them coming! They're encouraging as I drag through this part of the story. Admittedly, I don't like it as much as what I have coming for the last quarter of it (which I have partially written because it's just that much more FUN). I'm a bit lax in posting because the exchange has begun and I'm working on my piece for that. I also have a new story in the works - something I'll start after Crimson, but more on that later! I want to address a quick comment made by one of my reviewers as to why Voldemort is not in battle since he is immortal. The answer to that is that he isn't. This story follows Deathly Hallows in the fact that Harry fell during the battle at Hogwarts, but after he found most of the Horcruxes and destroyed them. Since there is no Nagini in this story, it is to be assumed that the snake is also dead. So it's just Voldie. Anyway, though I'd mention that. And now...on to the chapter! In this segment, Hermione begins her life in Cardiff, and the Alliance suffers a painful blow. Enjoy! And as always, your thoughts are important. :)
LCailan
CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
Hermione felt her heart jump into her throat when she and Charlie arrived at the train station early the following morning. She was wearing a warm, winter coat and clutching her meager belongings close to her chest lest anyone find the lockbox and ask questions. She couldn't have that. The sky was a deep blue but it would soon lighten as the sun awoke and began its dance along the sky. The sound of the whistle in the distance was mournful.
"There it is."
Charlie's voice was sad and Hermione glanced up at him for a moment.
"You'll be fine, Charlie. You and Angelina will need the extra space in the cottage."
Her glove hand came up to rest on his.
"And you know I need to be somewhere else."
Charlie looked perturbed as he ran his hands through messy red hair.
"So you've said."
He heaved a sigh and his breath lingered in a frosty puff for a few seconds.
"I've…arranged for a travel partner. So you'll be safe."
"Charlie, I don't need-"
Hermione's indignant reply seemed rather like false bravado, she knew, for only six months ago she had been as helpless as a newborn babe and desperate for help from anyone.
He turned just as the train pulled into the station and a figure approached them, clothed in dark. At first Hermione's heart stopped – it hadn't done that in a long time – and when it began to beat erratically once more she realize she recognized the wispy, blond hair and the fact that the person was female-
"Hermione."
Tears sprung to Hermione's eyes. Tears of shock and joy, of relief and of excitement.
"Luna!"
Luna smiled and her blue-gray eyes lit up brilliantly.
"You're beautiful, Hermione. I had hoped you would be, in spite everything, but here you are and it's really true."
It was a strange greeting, true, but somehow Hermione had expected such from the woman who was studying her critically, but not offering any more conversation.
"Luna," she began again and finding no words to express the sudden rush of joy, Hermione reached between the small space between them and put her arms around Luna tightly, hugging her close. Luna smelled of flowers, fruit and sunshine.
"The baby," breathed Luna and Hermione blushed nodding.
"Yes, I-"
"Neville told me."
An understanding passed between them just as the whistle blew impatiently.
"Come on, then," announced Charlie and within moments, Hermione found herself on the platform once again, just like she had been the first time.
Tear-filled gray eyes crossed her memory and she pushed them away with a choked gasp that made Luna's brows furrow. Ignoring Luna's uncanny way of catching onto things everyone else was missing, Hermione took Charlie's hands in her own.
"Thank you," she whispered looking up at him. "You didn't have to be so kind."
"I know."
His was a half-smile, a sort of roguish grin.
"And I'll miss you."
"Not as much as we'll miss you. Don't forget us, Hermione. You hurry back when you can."
She took a deep, uncertain breath knowing that nothing was for sure. She knew better than to believe that everyone would make it through the months to come.
"I will."
She leaned up to hug him, holding him close.
"Tell Angelina and the baby I love them."
"They love you too."
The train began to move and Luna reached out with a pink and purple striped glove to take Hermione's elbow. She gave Charlie a peck on his stubbled, cold cheek and soon the train began to move out of the station and she watched him until he was completely gone.
Why does it have to be like this?
Hermione's heart was in pain at yet another loss, even though this time it hadn't been nearly as painful. She felt the gentleness of Luna's touch on her elbow.
"Come on, Hermione. You don't want to catch a cold."
But Hermione couldn't move right away, the image of Charlie's last grin lingering on his face, his hand lifted in a reluctant half-wave. She blinked away heat and then stumbled after Luna, taking a deep breath to stave off the poignant sting of loss.
She said nothing for the longest time, Luna thought. She sat still, like she was dead, a pale, lifeless face staring out of the window at the drab, winter landscape. The only sign of life was the occasional hitched breaths and the way her trembling fingers snaked across her growing belly. The sun raced across the sky as the day waxed and waned and as the night shadows began to fill the train compartment, Luna finally stood, leaving for only a few moments and returning with a sandwich.
"You should eat."
The whisper made Hermione jump and she turned, as if seeing Luna for the first time.
Luna's lips turned up in a tentative smile as she pressed the sandwich into Hermione's slack hand.
"The baby needs it."
It was all Hermione needed to hear; the sandwich disappeared within moments that were drenched in tense silence.
Luna sighed and sat back against her seat.
"You know, not everyone in this world hates you, Hermione."
A strange sound escaped the curly-haired brunette as she looked up. Her eyes widened-the whites bright in the growing darkness.
"I never said-"
"You don't have to," replied Luna softly. "Sometimes it's so easy to read silence."
Hermione felt her throat constrict quickly, making breathing nearly impossible and leaving her light-headed. Luna's voice was neither accusatory nor condescending.
"You don't think all those months at the cottage that we weren't worried about you? Not just Charlie and Angelina, but Neville, Ginny…and everyone in the Alliance? Me?"
Hermione hadn't cried the whole train ride, but now in the darkness and the plaintive timbre of Luna's voice assaulting her, she felt her eyes water over.
"I can't assuage your…I can't- it's not like I can just speak what's on my-"
Her voice was ragged from disuse and the pain that she so bravely tried to hide. How could she speak her heart? In a world where she still felt confused and alone? What of the war? What of the fact that the Ministry would still eliminate her? What of the fact that she had seen disgust in Ginny's eyes at the revelation of the truth?
Luna could feel Hermione searching her face, as she often had the books in Hogwarts' library all those years ago. A moment later, she shook her head, a single tear slipping down her cheek.
"I don't know what to tell you; I don't know what to tell anyone."
I can't tell anyone! That's the problem! More's the pity because if I could, I-
"It does get easier, you know."
Luna's voice held a note of understanding. It was something Hermione had felt was lacking from Ginny, Neville…from some of the others. And that was what made her speak.
"What?"
"When Rolf first died, I…"
The words hit Hermione like a boulder, leaving her breathless as she stared at Luna. How was it that one's own pain made it so bloody easy to forget others? Just because she was suffering didn't mean that her friends and those she called family hadn't suffered as well! Shame washed over her as Luna spoke.
"It's like there's this…hole," she attempted to say. "It's deep and black and nothing…bloody nothing can fill it. Nothing can ease the ache and you feel it with every beat of your heart, ever breath you take."
Hermione nodded, her heart thudding dully within her chest.
Yes, yes.
"And you wake up sometimes and reach across the bed to his space and it's empty and you know it's never going to be…he'll never be there. And you hate dreaming because in dreams you're happy, you're together and he's smiling…"
Yes, yes.
Hermione watched as Luna's hands came up, pressing against the hollow of her throat, fingers clamping down.
"And you just want to…you want to choke it, the pain. You want it to go away, you wish you could die, so that you can be…wherever…"
Tears shone in Luna's blue-gray eyes as her head turned towards Hermione.
"It's not like you're alone, Hermione."
The reminder was a ragged whisper, choked by unshed tears.
"I'm here. We all are; we all worry about you."
Hermione felt like Luna wasn't just looking at her but…inside her. And not even a master of occlumency could block her deep searching. Hermione didn't feel so alone suddenly and the idea that Luna could read her so well was…comforting.
She wished that someone knew her pain without her having to speak it. The train rushed on and the two women sat in silence once more.
"Luna?"
Hermione saw the blond woman turn her head.
"Yes?"
"Tell me about what's happened to you all these years."
It wasn't exactly what Luna had expected but she didn't want to press Hermione to speak of things she wasn't ready to. And so she began talking, her voice muted in the night shadows. Hermione closed her eyes and listened, forcing herself to remember that she wasn't alone and that others had suffered too. Others had lost children, husbands and loved ones. She would not forget that; she couldn't.
When the train arrived at the Cardiff station, they were the only two left standing on the platform when it pulled away with a wail and hiss of wheel against metal. Hermione shivered and pulled her cloak around herself more tightly as the wind picked up for a moment. In the distance she could see the faint lights of the city. Soon she would be back in a bigger city and she would be able to blend in. Would this be home? Is this where her future lay so far away and different from the one that she had imagined with Ron? And more importantly, different from the one she had dreamed of with Draco?
Looking down, Hermione fought the pain of loss once again. Why had he left her? Why hadn't he fought for the possibility that they could have made it away together? Instead he had…abandoned her. That was the right word, she decided, for she felt utterly abandoned.
"Come on."
Luna's voice was a soft cajole. She was already holding all of Hermione's meager possessions, including the lockbox that she had tucked into her travel bag.
"I've got a Portkey."
Hermione stopped watching her old friend.
"Luna, where do I go from here?"
The question was one she had been considering for weeks really – the entire time she had been keeping house in St Davids. She remembered Draco's words the day in the lorry right before they said good-bye; he had told her to go to Cardiff eventually... and now she was there.
"Well," said the blond woman, "we'll get you a new name for awhile so you can fly under the Ministry's radar, so to speak. And you'll need a job but Merlin knows that Neville needs the help right now with the war growing much too…"
She stopped, shaking her head and Hermione took a breath.
"I haven't a place to stay or any money."
Luna gave Hermione a dreamy smile.
"There are safe houses all around the city. And as far as money, I can lend you some-"
Hermione's eyes flickered from Luna's peaceful expression towards the lights in the darkness. A city she didn't know; a life she would live all on her own? Was it possible? Wasn't she supposed to help the Alliance? Where was Ginny? Where would she go when she was ready to help?
"Hermione?"
"A safe house?" asked Hermione. "By myself?"
The thought terrified her somehow.
Luna gave her another small smile, her blue-gray eyes twinkling in the darkness.
"Did I mention that my flat is one of those safe houses?"
Hermione's anxiety-ridden heart began to slow as she stared at Luna. Thank God.
"I spend most of my time going between the WERA and Neville's clinic. I'm never home and so the boys stay with Minerva most of the time."
There was a tinge of sadness to Luna's soft voice now.
"It gets so lonely when I stay here. I do hope you'll stay with me, at least for awhile."
Hermione nodded.
"I can't imagine doing anything else," She said with a tiny laugh of relief. A plan – she had a plan. "I'll be able to work and if Neville gives me pay I'll give you half of it for rent."
Luna gave her a quizzical look.
"Hermione, you don't have to do that."
"I know. But I'm going to anyway."
Then Hermione took a huge breath and offered a smile she hoped she would feel eventually, following Luna out of the station.
The girls set out early the following morning just before sunrise, after only a few hours of sleep. Hermione knew that she needed to sleep; she just couldn't. Something had set her on edge – perhaps the move, or perhaps something else – but whatever it was it gave her no peace. Luna's modest but comfortable flat was located on the northwest side of the city, only a few miles from Neville's clinic and a block or two away from a long and winding street of shops and other vendors. She told Hermione that the location was chosen due to its convenience and the fact that she spent most of her time with Neville at the clinic.
"When I was living alongside the WERA in England, Neville would pick me up at the train station each week and it got to be…a bit much for him, I think," she mused as they walked along the pavement under a canopy of ice-laden trees. Beyond that street, Hermione was aware of the early morning traffic.
"It's amazing what we've taken for granted all these years."
Hermione looked at her friend and Luna pursed her lips.
"You understand, with Apparition and the Floo…"
She faded away as Hermione looked the other direction. Too many had forgotten that as a Muggle-born the conveniences of the Floo and Apparition had been taken from her so long ago she could no longer recall sometimes ever having such a convenience.
After this, Luna stopped speaking and Hermione found herself silently grateful that her companion was sensitive enough to know when words were unnecessary. They walked along, turning at the first intersection and heading towards the Clinic.
"Do you need to stop anywhere, Hermione?"
She paused her walking, motioning towards the shops on either side of the car-laden street.
"We could get something to eat? Or perhaps you need…clothing, another coat or some…toiletries?"
The offer was hesitant, as if Luna wasn't sure how Hermione would react. The brunette stopped and looked up at the lightening sky between the buildings that rose up on either side of her.
"A pawn shop," she stated with determination.
Luna frowned.
"I know you want…Hermione, you needn't pay me rent or-"
She stopped when Hermione gripped her hand almost painfully.
"I know. But I want to."
There was no doubt in her voice – no room for argument.
"I'm free now and I need to live like it. I can't be living off of you or anyone else. My wedding ring will get me enough for at least next month's rent and I also have…"
The necklace, she remembered. It was beautiful and it had gone perfectly with the red, satin dress Draco had chosen for the Lestrange's party. Hermione remembered the fairy tale feeling that had washed over her as she had stood wearing the dress and exquisite necklace. Besides her wedding ring from Ron, those two things were the only ones of value that Hermione had even been given.
The dress was long gone and she realized that she was about to give away the ring and necklace. Was it worth it?
It has to be. To start my new life, I need to do this.
So that's how the two women found themselves standing in front of a tiny pawn shop, Hermione hesitating just slightly and Luna looking perturbed.
"It's your wedding ring," she reminded in a whisper as if Hermione hadn't already known what she was parting with.
"And I, Hermione, take you, Ronald to be my husband. For better or for worse, in sickness and in health, until death do we part."
He was smiling up at her from his chair and Hermione's heart felt like it would burst it beat so frantically. She slipped a small, gold band on his finger, her own trembling with the effort and then she took a huge breath, staring at the band on her own finger, a symbol of Ron's undying love for her. Life wasn't perfect; they didn't know where they'd be next, or what would happen but at least she knew they'd be together…
The band sat in the calloused palm of Hermione's hand, glinting dully in the early morning light. She didn't dare look up at Luna's face fearing what her friend might see there.
Hermione stared, a strange gasp escaping her as Draco placed the tiny gold band in the palm of her hand. It glinted by the light of the living room lamps.
She couldn't speak; she couldn't do anything for a few moments. She was overwhelmed by what had happened between them in the hotel room just days before, confused at the flood of strange feelings for a man she purportedly hated. He was a Death Eater; he was vile and hateful and soulless and yet…
He was returning her wedding ring – the only thing with any meaning to her. It sat, cool and solid against her flesh and a rising of tears overwhelmed her even as Hermione willed herself not to break down yet again before this man. An enigma, he was, a truly complicated puzzle and she feared what she would find once she put him all together.
"M-my wedding band," she hissed.
Draco swallowed. She could hear his throat moving in the stark silence of the room.
"You can't begin to understand how horrible I-"
Something stopped his hoarse, dry words. And when she looked up, Hermione could see sympathy glimmering in the steady depths of his gray eyes. Quickly, almost roughly, he forced her palm closed against the gold ring.
"Take it."
His words were simple, without emotion.
"They've – I've – done too much to you already that you shouldn't have at least one measure of comfort."
He left her then, standing in the middle of his large living room, one hand clasping her wedding band tenaciously and the other holding the end of a vacuum cleaner hose…
"Hermione?"
Luna's soft voice broke into Hermione's reverie. Closing her palm against the ring just as she had done so many months before, the curly-haired brunette looked up and blinked. Luna touched her arm.
"You're certain you want to pawn the ring?"
Hermione nodded with determination.
"I don't need it to remember Ron. What I need is money."
Luna had already learned not to argue with a stubborn and determined Hermione. She nodded silently, twisting her own wedding band around her thin ring finger. There was no way she'd give up that tiny, last memento of Rolf's love. It might have been different for Hermione; she might have been desperate to prove that she could make it on her own, but still.
"Wait here," Hermione instructed and then walked into the pawn shop making sure that Luna did not see the other piece of jewelry she was willing to part with – Draco's necklace. Somehow, pushing the gorgeous, glittering piece hurt more than her tiny wedding band. She wondered if it was the affection tied to each or if it was something entirely differently. Swallowing the needling pain at parting with the two items, Hermione offered a bright smile.
"How much?"
The money she got from the proprietor of the pawn shop would be enough to help Luna pay flat rent for six months.
Six months.
By that time, Hermione knew the baby would have come. And she would hopefully have secured a job with Neville or with someone else to garner some savings. Then she would leave Cardiff and go wherever Ginny and the children were – she would find her family. And hopefully, when the war ended, she'd find the other half of her heart. She needed Draco - for better or for worse. She needed him to be happy. Even though she knew that he had hoped she would eventually forget him.
That's what he wanted me to do, wasn't it? He abandoned me, leaving me to forget him and move on with my life. He wanted me to be happy!
Anger battled with pain as Hermione followed Luna to a cozy little eatery for an early lunch. She feared that forgetting him would never be possible.
The two women ordered food and as they waited for it to arrive, Hermione was suddenly, painfully aware that it would be the first time in over ten years since she had eaten at a restaurant, had someone else serve her food.
Bloody hell.
This everyday moment for most others was of monumental importance to Hermione; she was both exultant and tearful. She was on her own. She was normal. She was free.
The two women finished their meal in companionable silence and then while Luna ordered some sort of chocolate éclair, Hermione sat back, her hand resting on her protruding belly as she watched the slow crawl of those who passed by their window. As she ate her luscious dessert, Luna watched her friend thoughtfully.
"You really loved him, didn't you?"
The question startled Hermione and she turned her head much too quickly, feeling her head spin.
"I-I loved Ron, he was my husband."
It was the automatic answer; it was the answer they were all waiting for. Ron was the one she would have ended up with if things had been right. He would have been the father of her children, and they would have had a house and a life and…love.
Luna smiled a bit whimsically, her eyes knowing.
"The father of your baby, I mean."
Oh. Ohhh…Draco.
Hermione's heart ached at the thought of his name. Five months now, it had been. Five months and it had felt like five lifetimes. If this was love, Merlin, she wanted no part of it! The pain was overwhelming, assuaged only by long hours of distracting work.
"Yes," she replied hoarsely, for Hermione could think of no reason to lie, and in fact, her very soul recoiled at denying what she felt for Draco, be it right or wrong. He was not Ron; he would never be Ron. Perhaps, he would never be the sort of man she could freely be with and that meant…
I'll have to move on. Someday…and somehow.
But at the mere thought of being with someone else the delicious meal that Hermione had just consumed threatened to reappear. Was that not love – this feeling of being claimed by someone and hearing her heart whisper 'him and no one else'?
No. No, I can't think like that! I have to know that someday I'll have another life. If he never returns to me can I be the fool and wait for him?
Tears filled Hermione's eyes and Luna looked saddened.
"I'm sorry, Hermione. I don't mean to open painful wounds. I know how it feels to lose that one person so close to your heart."
Hermione sniffed, unable to look into Luna's kind, blue-gray eyes. Not now, not yet.
"He is…gone from me now."
"We've all lost people."
Luna squeezed Hermione's fingers.
"But it gets easier," she promised. "You'll want to move on. You moved on from Ron, did you not?"
As Hermione stared towards the busy street she took courage from Luna's words. Indeed, she had moved on from Ron. Her life and the conditions of such a relationship were unthinkable, but she had done it. She had been desperate, she had needed him but amidst all that there had been something real between herself and Draco. That something continued to live within her aching heart. Gathering her crumbling emotions, Hermione took a breath and glanced at Luna.
"Do you want to move on?"
Luna smiled.
"Of course," she said softly. "I loved Rolf but I want my boys to have a family. He would not have denied me happiness if I found it again."
Her eyes were shining and she seemed to exude a special type of warmth; it relaxed Hermione more than she had since escaping from London.
"Neville?" she guessed, waiting for a blush to color Luna's cheeks. She has suspected something when Neville had spoken of her so fondly all those nights they had spent playing wizard rummy.
But Luna's smile faltered a bit.
"Oh, Neville…I could never. Not really, Hermione. I…I hurt him so much in the past."
The words were contrite and she spoke quickly and in low tones about knowing Neville's feelings and choosing Rolf Scamander anyway.
"I couldn't deny that part of my heart. With Rolf, I knew it. I knew from the moment he smiled at me."
Hermione nodded, a lump in her throat making it difficult to swallow.
"I understand."
She hesitated.
"But now it's different, Luna."
"It is, but it won't ever be…Neville."
Luna's words seemed so heavy and final that Hermione wasn't sure what else to say and so she chose silence for a few moments before continuing.
"I can't imagine ever…"
"I know, but you will. Trust me."
Once more there was promise in her tone and Hermione swallowed back tears.
"I suppose I'll have to."
"Someday, you will."
Hermione wondered, however, how long 'someday' would be.
WERA Headquarters
England
The death of Kingsley Shacklebolt sent a ripple of pain and anguish through the entirety of the Alliance. Most had no words, others grieved with tears and whisper laments. He had been a great man, and a fearless leader. He had been a fierce fighter and a role model to those at his side. And he had never forgotten those who were suffering at the hands of the Ministry, his goal always being the welfare of the weakest ones.
The WERA laid him to rest with a proper funeral, paying him respect nearly as reverent as on the day that Dumbledore had died. No one could have been more deserving.
Only days after Kingsley's interment, the weight of leadership moved naturally to the able shoulders of Lee Jordan. The Alliance knew they would need a strong leader and there was little to do but hope that Lee would carry the burden and continue to defend the cause as fervently as had Kingsley. But even as the WERA struggled to accept the great loss they could not forget the trouble that seemed to be brewing on the horizon. The Ministry had mounted attacks along the border of Wales once again, and the Alliance defended their lines fiercely in spite of the pain and shockwaves threatening to devastate them.
The goal was in sight. They could not let the Ministry do what they were intending to do. They would not let the tragedy slow them down, even if amidst the battle, it continued to mount.
Dean paced the floor outside of the double wooden doors like a maniac and the movement was starting to drive his companions insane.
"Dean, mate, you'll wear a hole in the floor you will."
Seamus' attempt at humor was lost on the brooding, black boy. Beyond the doors the sound of Minerva's stern murmur and Poppy's grave replies could be heard.
"What happened to him?"
Dean stopped pacing, glancing at the battle-weary group in the room.
"Why can't we go see him?"
Lee had fallen in battle; no one knew had happened and the rapid murmurings from those on the other side of the door served only to increase the panic in Dean's dark eyes. He was sick of battle. He was sick of defending, cursing, fighting, and struggling for his life. He was sick of it all.
Why am I not dead?
He was not a man who often indulged in self-pity and he loathed himself for failing to stay strong but with Kingsley dead and Lee…possibly to follow-
"No more funerals. I can't take it!"
His pacing had begun once more, this time with increased fury so that his footsteps echoed throughout the room. More had gathered to see the commotion.
"What are we going to do now?" he spat.
"There's Zabini."
Ernie spoke calmly, a stark contrast to the growing panic around him.
"He's always managed to lead us in the right direction. If only for a while, until Lee gets back on his feet-"
Ginny jumped up, eyes blazing passionately.
"Stop it, all of you! Do you hear yourselves? You're talking like Lee is already dead! He's not! We can't have Zabini in charge!"
The others looked at her warily.
"Ginny, calm down," Cho whispered.
Ginny whirled on the dark-haired girl.
"No, don't tell me to calm down!" she hissed. "You want Zabini to lead the Alliance! Who is he besides the obvious? I've told you all, he's not after our interests! He's after his own! Something's not right with him, I'm telling you!"
Tears sprung up into her eyes when she saw the doubt written in the eyes of her companions and battle mates. No one wanted to believe her simply because Zabini had done a few good things for the Alliance. She opened her mouth to speak again when the double doors opened and a weary-looking Minerva emerged.
The silence grew tense and deafening.
"He is alive."
Poppy stepped next to Minerva.
"But he's not going to be able to fight. Not right now; I rightly don't know when."
Dean's body had relaxed.
"But he'll live?"
Minerva pushed a strand of loose, grey hair that had fallen out of her bun behind her ear.
"He'll live, Mr. Thomas."
"Thank Jayzus," whispered Seamus, clutching Ginny's hand if only to calm her down because the fire still blazed within her.
Minerva glanced at the pale, haggard faces before her.
"We'll take some time to regroup," she said haltingly, realizing for a moment that no one was in charge and that by some strange reason, fate had taken away the strength of the Alliance by one swipe of a cruel hand. "B-but we must be ready when the Death Eaters come again."
She swallowed, looking around.
"Where is Mr. Zabini?"
Ginny pulled out of Seamus' tenacious grasp.
"Don't be a fool, Minerva!"
She whirled on her companions.
"All of you! Don't be blind! How can we trust him?"
Minerva sighed.
"How can we afford not to? He's shown us nothing but allegiance. He has given up his position within the Ministry, rejected the Mark on his arm, and become one of our protectors. If we are to win this war we must set aside our prejudices."
Ginny's lips trembled.
"I see his prejudice against anyone who doesn't agree with him. It's no better than the Ministry or Voldemort or…"
Ginny's eyes burned with tears of frustration and then with a whimper, she rushed from the room leaving the others behind. Her exit seemed to increase the tension between the group that remained in the room until Seamus got up, moving slowly as if burdened by something impossibly heavy.
"I'll go Apparate and tell the groups what's happened," he offered in a flat tone. Ernie nodded.
"I'll go with you, mate."
The two disappeared.
Dean took a breath, still uncertain as to his next move but Minerva had asked about Zabini and at that point they had very few to turn to. Zabini was strong in the face of adversity. He could help the Alliance stay focused at least until Lee recovered. They would have to trust in him; it was the only way to truly be united.
"I think Zabini's been guarding the Lestrange brothers. Thinks he's going to get something out of them. Something to help us infiltrate the Ministry."
Minerva nodded stiffly.
"Someone should go there. Speak with him. Find out what he thinks we ought to do now."
She motioned towards the double doors.
"I'll stay with Mr. Jordan."
She turned and walked slowly back into the room, allowing the doors to close behind her. Dean turned back to those who remained in the room.
"We've got some time. We can't possibly face the Ministry again until we have a plan. I'll be back soon."
Lord help us.
He was gone with a 'pop'.