Alright readers, last chapter for a while until I finish the final draft. I'm kinda busy with working and moving right now but don't the both of you worry, once it's done we'll be back to a weekly posting schedule until the very end, so make sure your email notifications are toggled to 'on.'
Cedric shivered and hugged his jacket tighter around himself. The snow was picking up and nearly blinding him, the chill cutting him down to the bone. Thankfully, he had earned enough money. He had bought medicine and enough food for a month if he rationed it right. He had tried to hunker down under a bridge for the night but was chased out by police.
A cough wracked his body and he leaned against a wall, heaving to catch his breath. His lungs had ached for days and he was growing weaker. The cold air did nothing to help that. He needed to find a safe place to pass out. Or maybe if he ate a bit of what he bought it would help. He'd been tempted to buy a hot meal with his earnings, but he would never forgive himself for wasting his money. Even on something he desperately wanted. His groceries were the first he'd bought for a while. He usually made enough for rice here, toothpaste there. Mostly, he'd been surviving off water fountains and dumpsters.
The last decent meal he had was in Iran when he helped an old grandmother with her groceries after her bag broke. His Arabic wasn't really the best, but she called him a grandson and insisted on feeding him dinner. Wouldn't take no for an answer. That was eleven months ago and each day he regretted it. If she was killed because of her kindness… He wouldn't forgive himself.
The Hunter was relentless. Cedric couldn't get ahead no matter how random he made his patterns. Somehow, he kept getting found again. Lately, he couldn't be anywhere for more than a week. It was exhausting. He was so tired of running.
He was so tired.
He was glad Hermione couldn't see how far he'd fallen, though he often fantasized of her finding him and telling him he could come home. That nobody was chasing him. That he could stop running. That everything could go back to the way it was. But she wouldn't… would she? She was gone. He read the articles, saw the house, and there were no other letters that came to him from anyone.
Perhaps it was time to join her. If there was an afterlife, then she would be there. It was only fair.
No. No, she wouldn't want him to quit. She would never quit.
Cedric coughed again and choked slightly. Time to keep moving.
He barely made it another street when a man stepped in his path. Not the hunter. The hunter had a distinct smell. This guy smelled like cheap cigarettes and cheaper cologne.
"Excuse me," said Cedric, making an attempt to shamble around him.
"Ah-ah," said another guy, moving in from the alley.
Cedric's senses told him two more had come up behind him. Shit.
"Not so fast," said the first guy. "Give us all your money."
Had he not already pulled the trick two months ago, he would have thrown his empty wallet into the street and then booked it. Now, he didn't have a wallet to throw. Shit.
"I don't have any money," said Cedric.
"Well, that's a problem now isn't it? Then… give us your backpack."
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Cedric glanced at their faces, barely visible in the orange streetlight. They were blurring slightly and he knew that he was too weak to fight them. With a last ditch effort, he tried to run and was dragged back. He was pushed between the four of them.
One grabbed his backpack straps and slammed him to the ground. His head cracked against the pavement, making him see stars.
"No, please!" he croaked as his backpack was ripped off of him. "It's everything I have!"
"Shut up!"
The four men descended onto him, kicking and punching him while he curled in on himself. They cursed when their hands made contact with the spikes on his jacket and hit him harder in anger.
He was on his own. He had no friends. No doubt these men would beat him to death. There were worst ways to go. At least his head wasn't going to be mounted on a wall this way.
He heard a surprised grunt and the thud of a body landing heavily.
"You'll pay for that, whore!" snapped one of the men.
Blows landed and a scuffle broke out. There was a hiss and a shrill scream.
"Run," said a deep, raspy voice.
Fleeing feet passed by him. Cedric couldn't even muster the energy to look up at his rescuer. Everything hurt and he shivered with cold and hunger. His eye felt like it had exploded in its socket and his teeth felt loose, especially after he spat out a mouthful of blood. He choked on it and gasped for air, but each breath was shortened by a stab in his ribs, as if they'd decided to snap off and poke his lungs like barbed wire.
A set of glittery platform pumps appeared in his line of vision just before he passed out.
~o0o~
The good thing about the hotel was that it had a conference room. When Mad-Eye and Kingsley arrived Monday morning, Hermione called in a meeting with those she trusted. There were more that she would have liked to include, but they weren't attending the wedding.
"Thank you all for coming," she said, placing a box on the table. "I know there are nicer things to think about. After all, the wedding is this weekend, but the more people arrive, the lower the chance we'll get to have this conversation."
"You act as if you're the new leader of the Order of the Phoenix," said Mad-Eye. "Did Dumbledore appoint you?"
"Of course not," she said. "I'm not the leader of the Order. I'm the leader of my own team. I'm calling us the Weather."
"I thought that name was a joke," said Fred.
"It was, but I can't think of another name that is totally unpretentious," she said. "But also, having a team name promotes a sort of cohesiveness and helps us and everyone else know what we're fighting for."
"And what are we fighting for?" asked Kingsley.
"An end to the system that allowed our Good Friend to rise to power in the first place," she said. "Kill Our Good Friend, but leave everything as it is and we are just waiting for another one to rise up. When we win, I intend to rebuild our system to a fairer society that looks out for the formerly lowest members. Not exploit them."
"That isn't a popular mindset," said Mad-Eye. "Many may call you an extremist."
"I'm familiar with how history works. If that isn't acceptable, there's the door, but I would really prefer to have people who have done this before on my team."
Everyone was quiet a moment. She knew the younger generation was on her team. She just had to find out if those who fought in the last war were, too.
"I'm on your team," said Sirius. "Dumbledore let me rot in Azkaban for twelve years while giving Snivellus a second chance to destroy everything. Because of that move, there are fewer Aurors, fewer Healers… any career that requires a N.E.W.T. in potions was bottle-necked."
"You have a point," said Kingsley. "Well, Miss Granger, what is your plan for fighting this war?"
"Well, obviously I'm going to be consulting you, Sirius, Remus, and Mad-Eye," she said. "You've done this before after all, but I think our main objective, aside from the finding and removal of horcruxes, is resistance. The spread of correct information, George, Lee, you were telling me something about that weren't you?"
"Yes," said Lee. "We're going to set up a radio tower at the base. We were thinking of making it password only."
"Mm… I don't think so," said Hermione. "If someone misses the password, then they're out of luck. And how would we get the first password out there? I think we'd be better off making the station available to the public, including Muggles and keeping that base under the Fidelius Charm, which I will be the secret-keeper for."
"What about the Muggles?" asked Mad-Eye.
"They'll think it's an entertainment based radio show," she said. "Like War of the Worlds. We'll be breaking laws just by having a rebellion, I don't care if we push the limits of the statute of secrecy. We lose, Our Good Friend will shatter it in his effort to enslave No-Majs. Which, really, if he had used his good looks and charm to become Minister, he could have stolen the world from under everyone's noses and they wouldn't realize until it was too late. I mean, the entire structure of the government is an oligarchy and is just primed for that."
"Good thing he isn't as clever as you, then," said Remus with an amused smile.
"You said horcruxes," said Mad-Eye. "You-Know-Who has one?"
Esperanza's jaw tensed and she squeezed Viktor's hand.
"He has, er, had six," said Hermione. "Ginny got the first one, a diary. Everyone give her a round of applause for that, that was most excellent."
Ginny grinned and tipped an invisible hat to the applause.
"The second, Slytherin's Locket, was destroyed by my cousin Noa, Esperanza's sister," she continued. "The third was destroyed by Fleur—" She clapped for her— "And the fourth was disposed of by me. Which means we have two left. Locations currently unknown, but we can be certain they'll be difficult to find and heavily protected. In the meantime, we run rescue. Move at-risk people out of the country. We have safe houses thanks to our benefactors, we might not have as many rich people as the Death Munchers, but Sirius, Viktor, and Esperanza make enough so we won't starve if we have to lay low for a while."
"Right," said Sirius. "I'll maintain this house in France. At the very least until the kids are done with school. Call it a checkpoint."
"Wait, should we really be worrying about school when there's a war to fight?" Harry protested.
"The Ministry has not fallen yet," said Kingsley.
"It's going to take time," said Hermione. "Use this time to train. Beauxbatons has good resources and you don't have anything protecting you anymore. You need to train, because Our Good Friend will stop at nothing until he kills you in battle. You need to be prepared."
"I agree," said Sirius. "I don't have a lot of family left, Harry. I can't stop you from fighting, but I can at least make sure you're ready. I owe you that much."
Hermione nodded. "Draco surmised that they are planning to overthrow the Ministry on or after the New Year. So, after the wedding I will go back into England to our main base. I own half while Fred, George, and Lee own the other half. Thank you for overseeing the renovations for me."
"Thank you for not kicking us out," said Fred.
"We'll stock up on non-perishables," she continued, "and we can buy ten Japanese futons for the price of one bed, plus they fold away. I want us to be prepared to house up to two-hundred people at one time even if that's before the final battle, which I have a plan for. Once the final horcrux is destroyed, we'll go to Hogwarts and evacuate the students with the house-elves."
"Why Hogwarts?" asked Kingsley.
"It's remote and I have a spell that will give us an advantage," she said. "I can bond completely with Hogwarts, level the playing field. I won't be able to harm my—Hogwarts' students, past or present, but he's been outsourcing. Not just wixen from other countries, but also giants and mountain trolls. We'll have trolls on our team too, right Alejandro?"
"Yes," he said. "At least three including me, but Biggs and Bix are fighting champions. They can take down some Mountain Trolls. We can at least try to speak with them and ask them to stand down."
"There you go."
"You can't bond with Hogwarts," said Kingsley. "It's impossible."
"Oh, she's been hosting Hogwarts all her sixth year," said Ron. "Trust me, it's possible."
"Spare me the lecture," said Hermione when Mad-Eye opened his mouth. "I weighed the risks. My goal is to lose as few people as possible."
"Very well," he said. "How do you intend to recruit people to fight for us?"
"If they want to fight, they'll fight, but I think we have a lot of friends already," she said and opened the box in front of her. "Speaking of friends, I have something for everyone in the Weather. Not as fancy as tattoos, but they'll be good for spreading information and for a call to battle. Quripuma gave me the idea."
Quripuma smiled.
"Ooh, are you giving us friendship bracelets?" Fred teased.
She tipped her head and held up one. "Yes."
"Oh."
"I used Quripuma's spell, you can send short messages to everyone in the Weather." She wiggled her wrist. "I'll bond them to you so they can't be lost or stolen. If you're killed, they should go blank, but I'd rather not test that. They're personalized." She started passing them out. "Some of you already have yours. I have extenders if they don't fit. Let's see, what else… We have our game plan for when everyone arrives. We'll have good protections for the wedding, but I don't see them attacking us here. If they leave home turf, the I.C.W. might take them seriously and stop them before they have a chance to take off. I wish they would get off their asses and just deal with it already."
"You know history," said Quripuma. "They won't do anything until this man stops targeting the 'right kind of people' and goes after them."
Hermione nodded and took a deep breath. "Switching gears. After the wedding, game on. Until then, we have other things to worry about."
"That you do," said Esperanza, smiling at her.
"Right. Meeting dismissed." Hermione put the box in her bag and went down to the hotel kitchen where a potion was brewing.
She bottled it up and set the extra bottles in their designated place before checking on the avena caliente. She stirred it and ladled some into a mug. She set that and a bottle of potion on a tray along with a glass of water. She carried it up to the first floor and knocked on the door with her foot. Jeanne answered and let her in.
"He's still unconscious," she said. "If I could take him to the hospital perhaps I could do more, but they have a strict no werewolves policy."
"I hope you know I intend to protest that when I'm no longer looking over my shoulder for Death Eaters," said Hermione.
"I know."
"Thank you for helping," said Hermione. "Is he stable?"
"Yes."
"Okay. Why don't you get some rest? I can watch him for a while." Hermione set the tray down on the side table and pulled up the chair.
"Alright," said Jeanne. "I'll have to return to work, but you should have all you need. Just call for me if he gets worse."
"I will." Hermione waited until she left and turned her attention to Cedric.
His disguise was good. Too good. She didn't even recognize him as the busker who sang to her. He had changed so much. She didn't recognize him until she touched his cheek. She just thought she was rescuing some stranger from those assholes. If he was suffering so much, why didn't he come home? She didn't blame him for not recognizing her. Though she was ticked that he sang so beautifully to any girl that looked remotely like her. Whatever. He broke up with her. She was just making sure that he didn't die. Once she got an explanation, he could do whatever the hell he liked. She didn't care what.
Hermione rested the back of her hand on his cheek. Still a bit feverish. He was mere days away from starving to death. He had broken bones and was ill. Probably pneumonia, but the potions she was administering three times a day would clear up the worst of his injuries and prevent him from dying of malnourishment.
She was glad he wasn't awake yet. She needed more time to figure out what to say.
She lifted his head, cringing at the texture of his hair. Jeanne had cleaned him the best she could and changed him into a pair of pajamas, but he had snapped at her and she was scared to do more. Hermione wasn't about to give him a sponge bath, he could shower when he woke up.
At least he was sort of responsive.
"Drink up," she said, bringing the potion to his lips. She wished she could administer it as an IV.
Cedric drank and coughed, spraying bits of it and choking on what he didn't manage to swallow. Hermione turned him onto his side until his coughing fit ceased. He inhaled wheezily and shuddered. Once she was sure he was alright, she turned him back, cleaned the mess, and propped him up. She brought the mug of avena caliente to his lips. He tried turning away from it until he tasted it.
His eyes fluttered open. Up close she could see their stormy grey. She had forgotten that at a distance they looked almost black.
"It's okay," she said, stroking his cheek. "You're safe."
He leaned into her touch and his eyes slid shut. He still managed to eat more than yesterday and he was making it to the bathroom with a bit of guidance. His fever was just really keeping him out of it. She placed the mug back on the tray and turned his pillow to the cool side before fixing his blankets.
"How is he?"
She looked over her shoulder at Viktor.
"Weak. Sick." She settled back in her seat. "I don't know when he'll truly wake up. He opened his eyes, but I don't think he really saw me."
"Everyone is looking to you on how to act around him," said Viktor. "Except Fleur, she's going to ask him to be a bridesperson if he wakes up in time for wedding. She is currently begging Esperanza to have a suit made up. I think she hopes if he stays for that, he will stay for good."
"What do you think?"
"I think he had reasons for staying away."
Hermione huffed. "Men. They think the best way to protect someone they've hurt is by staying away."
Never mind the fact her mamá did the exact same thing. And Esperanza broke up with Viktor once upon a time too, but things all worked out.
"He is still my friend," said Viktor.
"Tell everyone to be friendly to him," she said. "He's suffered enough, he doesn't need to feel like people are angry at him. Even though I'd like to hit him right now. How could he let himself get this bad? Why wouldn't he let me help him? Why did he return his mother's ring after taking it? Why didn't he go to D.R. when his name was cleared?"
She touched some faint scars on his neck and frowned. When did he get these?
"You know, despite all this, I still love him." She sighed heavily and slumped back in her chair. "I'm a fool."
Viktor rested a hand on her shoulder. "Love is not foolish. He is your best friend. Perhaps if he knows what you feel, he will stay."
"He knew what I felt and he still left."
"Then perhaps knowing that he won't be a danger to you will be enough."
She snorted. "Yeah, I'm enough of a danger on my own."
Viktor didn't respond to that knowing any words to the contrary would be a lie and confirming would just be cruel. Instead, he leaned into her.
"I will be back later with some food for you," he said.
She nodded. She didn't have to focus on Maid of Honor duties now. Everything was nearly ready. Everyone could handle Christmas planning. All they had to worry about for the wedding was the rehearsal. Esperanza was arranging that.
Until her next task, she could sit here with Cedric.
~o0o~
Cedric groaned softly and shifted to get the numb feeling out of his limbs. Was he dead? He had to have been. He'd forgotten what it felt like to be warm. Not the uncomfortable warm that came with sitting in the sun too long or humid nights between the hostile architecture under bridges. The kind of heat that held onto all the bad smells until you thought you might choke. No, this was the kind of warmth that came from being loved. This was fresh baked bread and hugs. He had been lovingly tucked into a bed with fluffy pillows propping him up slightly.
He felt clean, too. Sort of. He didn't have the grime that came from washing in corner store and gas station bathrooms with water that left a permanent filmy residue on his skin.
He thought he remembered sluggishly pulling on these wonderfully clean clothes. Clothes that he hadn't had to sneak into other peoples' loads at laundromats or scrub in rivers and then air dry in the makeshift space he built into his backpack. His stomach felt full and he was sure someone had fed him something warm and sweet and lime-y and a gentle hand had tipped his head up so he could drink fresh, cold water that didn't have a weird chemical taste to it.
This must've been heaven.
He would have thought he'd have his arm back, but who said the afterlife was perfect?
Now, he just needed to open his eyes. He could see his mother. He could see Hermione.
A muffled scream and bout of raucous laughter startled him. Heart pounding, his eyes flew open despite desperately wanting to remain shut. This wasn't heaven. This was a hotel room. It was nice with decorative, seashell wallpaper and simple but stylish furniture.
How did he get here?
The woman who saved him must have brought him here. At least, he assumed he was saved by a woman. He thought he remembered hearing a feminine and soft voice speaking to him. But why bring him here and not a hospital?
Cedric looked around and saw his prosthetic sitting on the side table. His backpack was in the chair. He sat up and rubbed his face. He was only moderately dizzy. Pushing back the covers, he got up and shambled into the bathroom. He still looked like hell, but his piercings had been taken out and the skin was no longer red and puffy. He had bandages on his deeper injuries and he felt his broken bones had been properly healed.
After using the toilet, he washed his hands and sighed as he felt real, actual, hot, clean water since he could remember. He sniffed the air. All scents were old. Definitely a magic-based hotel. If they wanted him dead, he would be by now. Surely whoever his host was would appreciate it if he didn't smell like he'd been sleeping in a dumpster.
The shower was heavenly.
He used the hotel soap and shampoo, which was way better than paper towels, hand soap, and convenience store bathroom sinks. He scrubbed himself clean and then stood under the spray just because he could.
"Life is beautiful," he whispered.
He could kiss whoever brought him here. After drying off, he brushed his teeth and looked at himself in the mirror. He still looked like hell. His teeth and gums looked better, but maybe he was just imagining that. His eyes were red-rimmed and he was still skeletal, but for once he felt full.
Oh, what was he doing messing around? He had no idea how long he was out for and he refused to bring trouble to his rescuer.
Coughing lightly, he grabbed his prosthetic off the side table and attached it, finding the joints oiled. He wiggled his fingers. He found his clothes from his backpack all washed, folded, and dried in a basket by the door. They were even mended. He pulled on jeans, socks, his boots and layered up a long-sleeved shirt with a t-shirt.
Maybe he should just run.
There was no telling how close he was to being found and he really didn't want to drag anyone else into the mess he made.
Cedric stuffed everything away in his backpack and pulled on his leather jacket. The sleeve had been stitched back, some broken spikes were replaced with new ones, and it had a new lining. He really should have bought some hair dye to change his look again. Oh well, maybe he could sing and earn enough cash.
He opened the door and looked around, finding no one in the hallway. It had been dark when he looked out the window, so perhaps it was late. Or early. He wasn't sure. Running his fingers through his hair, he took a deep breath and found the lobby of the hotel. He was on the first floor, so he crept down the stairs. The lift would be too noisy. He could hear people speaking in an adjacent ballroom and smelled liquor and salty snacks. He sniffed deeply, but couldn't pick up any other scents over pine trees, nutmeg, and lemon cleaner. There were at least a few people all talking and laughing.
"Just a few more days!" said a cheerful voice. "You ready?"
"Definitely. Frankly, I don't think Saturday will come quick enough."
Cedric stopped walking. There was no way he could walk past without being spotted and he wasn't sure he had enough strength to cast a spell. It would be rude not to thank whoever saved him for their hospitality. Taking a deep breath, he turned into the ballroom and stopped dead when he saw who all was sitting there. Viktor, Esperanza, Fred, George, Lee, Bill, he knew all of them.
"Cedric!" Viktor got up and hugged him tightly, minding his shoulder spikes. "I'm so glad you're awake my friend."
George and Lee were next, crashing in around him. He hadn't been hugged in so long. Esperanza came around, wrapped her arms around them all and lifted them off their feet, making them laugh. She set them down and kissed his cheek.
"It's good to see you, Cedric," she said, though he could see she was restraining a very loud, very angry lecture.
"H-How?" he asked, stunned.
He thought they were still missing. Possibly dead. Though, he had been cut off from all information of the wizarding world.
"It must have been fate," said Viktor.
"We were out for Fleur's bachelorette party," said Esperanza, "walking to sober up, when we heard someone getting mugged. Nia asked us to help—"
"More like didn't give us a choice," said Fred.
"And it was happenstance that it was you we were helping." Esperanza paused and scowled. "We have been worried sick! No note, no postcard, you didn't even call!" She spotted his backpack and looked furious. "You aren't leaving!"
"I… I didn't want to make trouble," he said.
"Please, mate, don't leave," said George. "You don't have to run anymore. You've been pardoned!"
"That was real?"
"Yes." He furrowed his brow. "What did you think?"
"I thought it was to lure me out of hiding," he said. "I was… It doesn't matter anyway. I'm still being hunted."
"Hunted?" said Fred.
"Yes. I was told about him back when I was first targeted. He stops at nothing until his target is dead and I haven't been able to stay in hiding longer than two weeks. And he said he'll kill anyone who even helps me."
"Then we'll stop him," said a new voice. Deep and calm.
A massive tea tray floated past him and settled down on the table.
His rescuer.
"I dunno, Nia," said George. "A monster hunter of all things?"
Nia. The name sounded familiar, but he didn't know any Nia, did he?
"I can handle it."
Time to thank her. He turned around and tensed up. Her… she was the one who gave him the money the other day. Except now she had dreadlocks. Brown and white. Her eyes. One brown and the other full of stars… It couldn't be.
"Hermione?" he whispered.
She was taller now. Her shoulders were broader and her features were sharpening. She had scars like puncture marks around the edges of her face and metal splints glinted on her hands. But that was her nose, her lips, and her eyes… how had she hidden that beautiful star eye?
Before he realized it, he was across the room. He cupped her cheeks, hardly believing she was real.
"I thought you were dead," he whispered. "He told me you were dead."
"You should know it takes a lot more than that to kill me, Farm Boy," she said.
He exhaled sharply and embraced her. The tears burbled up and within seconds he was sobbing and holding her as tight as he could. This wasn't a dream, he could feel her heartbeat through her back and smell the scent of her soap. Peppermint. She was alive. It had all been a lie. He could have been home for a year now.
He could have been home for a year now…
The thought made him sick. Months spent wandering and praying to whoever was listening that he would be free and when he was, he didn't believe it. Why hadn't he checked further? Yes, he was attacked but… Hermione was alive. He should have checked with the family, but was terrified even a letter would put them in danger.
He began to feel feverish and dizziness washed over him. His knees buckled, but he was caught and lifted off his feet as his consciousness slipped away.