Warning(s): Discussions of character deaths and abuse, animal neglect and abuse.
~o0o~
It had been much easier than Cedric expected to enter Gringotts and check on his vault. Though, he guessed he shouldn't have been surprised considering Sirius was able to access his money as a fugitive on the run from Dementors.
The goblins didn't mention his wanted status (or lack thereof), they just informed him of his current balance and that his land tax payments would be halted due to the property having never existed and offered a refund and an apology for the mix-up, which he accepted and assured them he wasn't upset.
"Please tell your authorized user that she has silent friends here," said Griphook.
Cedric paused, caught his deeper meaning, and nodded. "I will."
"Very good. Amos Diggory has tried to access your vault on two separate occasions," he continued. "As he was not an authorized user and did not have a vault key, we denied him access. Miss Lotulelei-Sanchez y Granger has made several deposits in your name and has been receiving mail in regards to your vault. Can I assist you with anything else today?"
"Just making a withdrawal," he said.
"Very good."
Once that was done, he exchanged most of his galleons for pounds and left.
Nobody looked twice at him in Diagon Alley, but he didn't linger long to give them the chance. Instead, he went into London to purchase tools to replace the ones that got lost or damaged during his time on the run and then he apparated to a scrapyard. He didn't find much. Not anything he could use anyway. The cars had already been harvested for parts and though he had learned a lot under the mechanics at the Werewolf Compound in Wisconsin, they didn't exactly get around to that sort of thing. He just knew how to fix a broken down car with a combination of magic and mechanics. They complimented his ability to fix things, and said with some time and training, he could probably build his own car from scratch if he was so inclined.
Unfortunately, at this time, he couldn't even find a workable toaster. He supposed he could just buy Hermione a new one, but then she might be upset that their resources were used on something she could work around. And if they had more people staying with them, they would need more than just a two-slot toaster.
The scrapyard wasn't a total loss. He did find bits and pieces to build her a jukebox. He also found some perfectly good wood and wire they could build a garden fence out of. Plus a blender. If he could clean it real well and get it to work then it could be used to make smoothies.
When he returned to Ottery St. Catchpole, he hesitated going up to Rosehill right away. Being around her… it was bittersweet. He was thrilled she was alive and that she wanted him around, but she was cold. He didn't blame her, of course, but that didn't make it less difficult. She admitted she still loved him, but that didn't mean she would take him back. That was harder to accept, but he figured as long as he didn't pressure her or act all possessive he could feel however he wanted.
He took a walk to the Burrow instead. It was nice to just walk without being a coiled spring ready to run. The place was overgrown. Abandoned. Mrs. Weasley never returned after her husband died.
The cows!
Cedric ran around the house and saw two skinny cows huddled together for warmth and nosing at the ground.
"Oh, you poor things!" Cedric breathed and hurried to check them over, finding both pregnant. "Hussies."
Daisy gave him an unamused look.
"Sorry, it was a joke," he said, patting her shoulder. "Not to worry, I'll take you home. Get all nice and cozy in the barn just… just sit tight a moment. Alright?"
Trixie lowed in response.
Taking a deep breath, Cedric went to Mr. Weasley's shed and was surprised to find that all his gadgets and gizmos were left behind. Dusty, untouched, completely abandoned. Mrs. Weasley never did like Muggle things, but her husband sure did. Perhaps she felt that this was a good compromise. She wasn't throwing it away, but she wasn't holding onto them either.
"Hello, Mr. Weasley," said Cedric. He didn't know if the man could hear him from wherever he was now, but it was better to cover his bases. "I hope you don't mind if I make use of your things."
There was no shift or change that indicated Mr. Weasley's spirit from beyond the grave was okay with it or not, but Cedric figured it would be alright. He poked through the things, fortuitously finding five disassembled toasters and a waffle iron. There was a lot here. The wind caused the shed to creak. Cedric looked out the dirty window and saw some green.
Curious, he went outside to the back of the shed and found a dirty tarp. He lifted it up to find a van. Rusty, battered, white and green. Probably to replace the Anglia that was most likely still running wild in the Forbidden Forest. Cedric found the van unlocked and the keys stashed in the sun visor. It was no less battered inside. Did he buy it just before he died?
Cedric sneezed and moved his scarf over his nose. He found the owner's manual and a dead rat in the glove compartment. He disposed of the creature and figured out how to pop the hood. He checked it out. Full engine. Rather old, but he could fix it. Probably. It'd be alright with a boost of magic.
Hopefully.
Cedric checked for any more critters before shrinking the van and adding it to his things. Finally, he loosely tied conjured ropes around Daisy and Trixie's necks and guided them home.
Was that place home now? Had it ever been? Cedric decided it could be. If he made it his home. Home was wherever Hermione was. If he said it out loud two years ago she would have melted and showered him with kisses. If he said it now, he'd get a scowl at best.
Daisy and Trixie broke away from him to gallop towards the barn, clearly excited to be home. Cedric let them in and guided them to the old cow stable, moving crates of W.W.W. inventory out of the way. There were still bales of hay and a quick check proved they weren't moldy, so he dragged one bale out and strewed it about before letting the cows in. He pushed the rest of the hay towards them.
"Bit stale, but eat up," he said. "Oh! I bet you're thirsty."
He used magic to fill the troughs, an act that would usually have made them nervous, but they were too tired and hungry to put up a fuss about it. He found an old brush and gave them both a quick once over, promising to groom them properly in the morning.
"I'll have to get you two a check up from the vet," he said and checked their udders. "No signs of infection. Good thing for Mrs. Weasley. If she let you die from mastitis I would kill her. Even so, it's been a couple years so we better make sure you've got your shots and all before these babies arrive."
Once he was sure they were set, he closed the stall and moved on to the next task at hand.
His workstation in the barn was still intact. It just needed a good dusting and organizing. Cedric moved more of the inventory out of the way to give himself more room to work. After cleaning up, dusting and sweeping, he took everything he had acquired out and put it away. It was dark when he finished and he headed inside after locking up the barn.
The house was warm and he shuddered a bit of snow off his shoulders before hanging up his coat and removing his boots in the mudroom. He found something that hadn't been burned away. It was faint, nearly covered by a coat of paint, were markings with how tall he had gotten as he grew up. The last one reading: Cedric, 14 several inches shorter than he was now.
What would Mum think of him now? He wasn't sure he wanted to know.
He frowned and thought of that graveyard where everything went wrong. His Uncle Eadric had shown up, killed by Voldemort's own hands years ago, and helped Cedric survive. Surely that meant there was life after death. Could they see?
Cedric pulled off his hat and fake glasses and ran his fingers through his hair before entering the kitchen.
Hermione stood at the stove, her hair held back with a bandana. She was stirring a pot of something fragrant while another pot simmered on a back burner. His heart beat faster looking at her. She had rolled her sleeves up past her elbows and her biceps pulled the brightly-patterned fabric taut. Her splints glimmered in the light as she poured spices into the mix.
It smelled heavenly.
"Er, hi," he said, washing his hands in the sink. He pushed his sleeves up and washed up to his elbows. He oughta shower before dinner.
She glanced over at him. No hostility. A good sign.
"Hello. Busy day?"
"Very. What are you making?"
"Curry." She picked up a spoon and scooped some up. "Tell me what you think."
Cedric approached and let her feed him a bit. He blinked in surprise at the melody of flavors and nodded. It would be great when it had a chance to stew.
"I like it," he said.
"Not too spicy?"
"Not at all. Just the right amount. Since when can you cook?" Oh. That sounded mean. "Er, I just meant—"
"I had a lot of practice these past couple years," she said, not taking offense. "And some proper training. Can you get out the plates? We need ten of them. Ceci and Tonks are here already, they're deciding what bedroom they want. Kingsley and Mad-Eye will arrive soon."
"Sure. No problem." He looked in the cabinets and found the plates.
Fred and George came in through the mudroom.
"Absolutely freezing out there!" said Fred.
George got a lovesick smile and crossed the room to wrap his arms around Hermione's middle.
"What monstrosity are you cooking today, darling?" he asked.
Hermione gave him a funny look and his face fell. He backed up and shook his head in disbelief.
"Blimey! I thought you were Lee!" he said. "Sorry, Nia."
"You thought Nia was me?"
Lee entered wearing an outfit that was strikingly similar to Hermione's. Even his locs, though shorter than hers, were held back in a bandana. He spotted what Hermione was wearing and looked down at his own outfit of red corduroys and a shirt brightly patterned with butterflies. Hermione's corduroys were orange.
"Oh."
"Well, I guess one of you will have to change your hair," said Fred.
Hermione and Lee shouted, "No way!"
"My locs are finally maturing," said Hermione.
"I've been growing these since my second year," said Lee crossly. "No way am I lopping them off just because George thinks I look like a girl from the backside."
"Well, Nia doesn't look like a bloke from the backside!" Fred countered.
"Been checking me out often, have you?" said Hermione.
Fred flushed and waggled his jaw.
"I don't think there's any outcome where neither of you make asses out of yourselves," said Cedric.
"There really isn't," Lee agreed. "Best quit while you're ahead."
Fred scowled at Cedric.
"Next time, George, check the hands," said Hermione, turning the burner down and placing a lid on the curry before cranking the egg timer. "Dinner will be ready in twenty minutes. Maybe thirty." She spun her finger and a white orb appeared. "Ceci, Tonks. Dinner in half an hour."
She flicked her wrist and the orb shot upstairs. She did magic so easily now, without a second thought. Cedric was impressed.
He carried the plates to the dining room since they didn't have enough chairs in the kitchen yet for ten. Hermione followed with napkins and cutlery. He hoped she would ask him about this day. He missed their talks. How she'd fold her hands under her chin and give him her full attention. He missed hearing her talk. The way she'd light up when she got passionate.
She seemed… almost dull. Not in a boring way, more like everything sharp and bright and energetic about her had been dampened and sanded away. She put on a good front during the wedding. The kind he used to always put up. Now… he'd do anything to see that smile of hers. That tiny gap in her teeth she refused to get fixed. The wrinkle in her nose. The sparkle in her eyes.
It was all his fault, wasn't it?
He hoped he could make up for it. Fix it. There was time to at least become friends again, wasn't there?
"Erm…"
She glanced at him.
"The Goblins," he said. "They gave me a refund of the land tax payments on the house since it doesn't exist. And they say that you have their silent support."
She nodded. "How far back?"
"The last ten years," he said. "I think it's their way of giving us some support without putting their people in danger."
She nodded, sniffed the air, and gave him a curious look.
"Scrapyard?" she said. "And… what animals have you been around?"
"Er, yeah," he said. Her nose was almost as sensitive as his was now. "Scrapyard and—George! Fred! I oughta send a howler to your mum and your older brothers and, hell, the rest of you!"
"What did we do?" Fred demanded.
"Left my cows to die!" Cedric snarled, firmly setting the last plate down. "Left them alone for two years! Now they're pregnant and probably sick and starving!"
"Trixie and Daisy?" said Hermione. "In the barn?"
"That's right," he said. "I'm not getting rid of them. I'll use my refund to call in a vet!"
"Mum never asked you to give her those cows," said Fred defensively.
"I told her if she didn't want them she could sell them for the money!" Cedric retorted. "If she didn't want them why did she keep them?!"
"She was depressed after Dad died," said George, trying to defuse the situation. "You can't blame her for forgetting."
Cedric felt agitated. He knew everyone grieved in different ways, but surely someone would have remembered them and taken them elsewhere.
"After I watched my mum die," he said coldly, "my father brought me home and told me to get on with my chores. So I did. When you cleared out the Burrow, why didn't you ask me to sell them or give them up?"
A small hand grasped his trembling wrist. He realized his nails had grown sharp and his teeth felt a little longer. He turned towards Hermione.
"No Howlers," she said, gentle yet firm. "What happened, happened. We'll call the vet in the morning. If being here has too many bad feelings, you're welcome to stay at Grimmauld Place."
"There's an idea," said Fred.
Hermione hissed and shook her head, letting go of Cedric when his nails returned to normal. She didn't want a fight, so he wouldn't give her one.
"I'm… I'm going to shower," said Cedric.
"Alright." Hermione returned to the kitchen and sat on a stool near the stove, opening up her book.
Cedric hurried past Fred and George and apparated the rest of the way to his room. He took a quick, hot shower and changed into jeans and a plain long-sleeved shirt. He plaited his hair over his shoulder to keep it out of the way and returned downstairs.
When he re-entered the kitchen, Hermione jumped to her feet and took a cover off a dish full of peaches. She pulled a bowl forward and dropped handfuls of streusel and slices of butter onto the fruit before sticking it into the oven. By then, Tonks and Cecilia entered.
"You sure it's cool we move in?" asked Tonks, throwing an arm around Cedric in greeting.
"Not that we have any choice," said Cecilia. "I've been thinking of going home since they'd go after me for being related to you."
"That might not be a bad idea," said Hermione.
"Oh no, prima, I'm not actually going to leave," she said. "Tía Ximena will kill me if I do and I fear her wrath more than some death munchers."
"Fair enough."
The mudroom door opened and Mad-Eye and Kingsley entered. Hermione nodded at them and checked on the curry.
"Glad you could come," she said.
"No security questions?" asked Mad-Eye. "That's dangerous, lass. You aren't safe just because of the charm."
"Oh, right," Hermione raised her hands and pushed them both against the wall by their magical cores. "Ignoring the fact that this is under my protection, and I can see your magical signatures… I don't really know Kingsley well enough for a security question. Mad-Eye, what did I do when I suspected you of being the one to put Harry in the Tournament?"
"You stuck your kneazle in my face."
The first egg timer dinged while the second timer continued ticking away.
"Congratulations, you win the prize," said Hermione, lowering her hands.
The two men seemed shaken. Hermione didn't use magic to push people. She moved them by their actual cores. It was an unpleasant sensation.
"Dinner is ready," she said, picking up the huge pot of curry and carrying it to the table.
"You know you can use magic to carry things, don't you?" Fred teased.
She glanced sideways at him and set the pot down on the table. She didn't respond to the comment, choosing instead to get the rice.
Cedric hoped to sit next to her. When she sat at the head of the table, he quickly took the seat to her right. Fred took the seat to her left and glowered at him. Cedric glowered back. Guess any chance of them being friends was out the window.
"Ktsch!"
They jumped and looked at Hermione, who gave them each a stern look that plainly said, "Don't start."
"Pass your plates," she said.
Everyone got equal amounts of dinner and there was enough left in the pot for seconds or lunch tomorrow. Hermione and Cecilia silently blessed their food while everyone else jumped straight into the meal.
"This curry is really good," said Cedric. "Where'd you learn to make it?"
"Helga Hufflepuff," she said, rubbing her neck. "I changed it up a bit, mixed it with an Indian curry recipe I know. I learned a lot about cooking from her memories and the house-elves. I really think I improved."
"Even Pansy found some of your choices in meals hard to critique," said Draco. "She mostly just bitched about changing tradition."
Hermione's smile was slightly smug.
"Will you be cooking every night?" Fred asked hopefully. "Or every meal?"
"That depends," she said. "Will the rest of you take care of the rest of the household? Cleaning, organizing grocery runs?"
"Do we have to?" Lee asked with a grimace.
"I'm not moving in here to be your mommy," she said sharply. "Either we all take care of each other or we only take care of ourselves. I designed a chore chart that divides the work equally. Those without jobs to speak of may be assigned a bit more housework, but they're not going into an office. Speaking of which, in order to bring in some income, I might require a corner of somebody's workshop in order to make jewelry to send home."
"Oh, Nia makes pretty jewelry," said Cecilia. "She made those earrings you're wearing, Ced. Gems and all."
His heart fluttered and he looked at her, touching the teardrops he'd been favoring.
"You made these?"
"It's not that hard," she said. "If I send the jewelry home, they'll pay me for it. I figured I could do that or I can help the twins make products. My pranks might be limited to foam and glitter, but I can follow a recipe."
"It'd be nice having you around the workshop," said Fred. "We'd be honored to have a rabble-rouser like you on our team."
"Wait, those are my options when we aren't fighting?" said Draco. "Get a job or do housework?"
"If we all pitch in with the housework it won't be that bad," said Hermione with a twinge of irritation. "I don't care if you want to leave your own room disgusting, but all social areas need to be kept tidy."
The timer dinged and she got up to take the crumble out of the oven. She returned with her clipboard under her arm and the baking dish in hand. She set it on a mat on the table.
"It just needs a few minutes to cool," she said. "Kingsley, Mad-Eye, will you be moving in? No pressure to. We have the room and it might be safer."
"I'll move in tonight," said Mad-Eye. "Sirius said he removed Severus from Grimmauld Place, but just to be certain…"
"I'll think on it," said Kingsley. "But it is likely."
"The door's always open," she said and looked down at her clipboard. "On to business."
She explained the rules she thought they oughta have for the household: Manage your own rooms, quiet time is from 11:30pm to 8am, follow the chore chart, if you have an issue with someone talk it out.
They sounded similar to the rules for the Sanchez house.
"I thought Celeste was kidding when she said Tía Ximena was training you to be a matriarch," said Cecilia, grinning.
Hermione looked up from her clipboard. "Am I being bossy?"
"You are the boss," said Cedric.
She hummed and looked uncertain. "Well, does anyone object to this?"
"I object to the housework," said Draco.
"Yeah, I also object to that," said Lee.
"Any chance we can get a house-elf instead?" asked George.
Hermione frowned. "Are you seriously asking me to acquire a slave because you're too lazy to do something as simple as wiping down the counters and sweeping the floor and picking up your trash?"
Cedric caught a 'witches are better at household spells' thought and whipped his head around.
"If you say that out loud, I don't think you'll walk out of here with your knees facing the front," he warned. "Between the ten of us, we should be able to handle it just fine. And it will get easier the more people we bring into this house."
"Thank you," said Hermione. "And if you try to blow off chores one day in order to pawn it off on someone else the next day, you will be in my bad graces."
"It's a cold place to be," Cedric sighed.
"Well, this is our house," said Fred.
'My house,' Cedric thought bitterly.
"If you expect me to cook for you again, you're gonna keep this place clean," said Hermione. "It doesn't have to be spotless, but I'd prefer us to not get sick. I would be more than happy to show you how to properly clean something. Willful incompetence will not be tolerated."
"What about actual incompetence?" asked Lee.
Hermione took a deep breath. "Do you want to save the world?"
"What does that have to do with dishes?" asked Draco.
"Just answer the question," she sighed. "Raise your hand if you want to save the world."
It was unanimous. Hermione nodded and Cedric saw what was coming up next.
"Then shouldn't the path to peace start in the household?" she queried. "Everybody talks about how they want to change the world, yet they won't even change the sheets without excessive nagging or help their parents or partner by cleaning the kitchen after they cook. When's the last time any of you did something for your mum just to make her life easier?"
"Before I move here, I reorganized her sewing room," said Cecilia.
"June 28th, 1992," said Cedric. "She went to the hospital that evening."
And after that there was nothing he could do.
Nobody else could answer and even Kingsley looked a bit guilty.
"Exactly." Hermione looked at the table. "I forgot plates."
She got up and went into the kitchen.
"I think we should agree to the chore chart," said Cedric softly. "Also, my name may not legally be on the deed, but I've been paying for the property and I say we do it."
"Nia is the boss," said Cecilia. "And these terms are fair."
"We're all equals in this outfit," said Mad-Eye gruffly. "Granger just uses her connections and knowledge to give us a directive."
"Right," said Fred, resigning himself to chores. "She's the boss." He sighed heavily and looked at his plate. "If she keeps cooking like this… I guess I can wash a pan or two."
"Glad to hear it," said Hermione, entering with plates and ice cream.
She scooped out the crumble and gave a scoop of ice cream to whoever wanted some.
It was amazing. Cedric remembered the time they tried to bake cookies together and she misread the measurements, insisting Cedric was wrong too, and they came out like Hagrid's rock cakes. Worse even. When she and Amalea made cookies, Hermione's batch was secretly thrown out to spare her feelings. She noticed anyway, but didn't call them out.
"Speaking of cleaning," she said. "I'm going to be checking out Shell Cottage tomorrow for Bill and Fleur. Clean it up and stuff so they're not coming home from their honeymoon to a cruddy house. I'll need someone to go with me, mostly to keep watch. Make sure I'm not attacked."
"I'll go," Cedric volunteered. "I've been doing handiwork since I was six, so if there's anything that needs fixing, then I'm your man."
Pathetic.
That wasn't Hermione's thought. He had a feeling it was Fred's. Maybe Draco's. He didn't dwell, he knew he was being pathetic.
"Alright," she said. "We'll leave after breakfast."
"This crumble is excellent, Miss Nia," said Kingsley.
"Thank you. I used tinned peaches, but I drained them and added some spices."
"I like strawberry and rhubarb cobbler," said Lee.
"Oh, hard ban on strawberries," said Hermione. "I'm horribly allergic. If you want them, don't eat them in the house. You can have them at Grimmauld Place, just make sure Kreacher knows it's okay."
"Fair enough."
There wasn't much more discussion through dessert. Hermione stood to put the ice cream back, seized, and collapsed.
Crying out, Cedric knocked his chair back and fell to her side. Not her, too. Don't take her, too.
He found her eyes open and glowing. The brown one gold and the stars in her cursed eye silver. That never happened to his mum. He touched her temple and saw what she did. Five people in the Room of Things. He recognized two of them from the graveyard, Amycus and Alecto Carrow, but the other three neither he nor Hermione knew. In front of them stood Severus Snape.
"She's having a vision," he said. "Everyone join hands!"
He held out his own and projected the vision when they were connected.
"That meddlesome girl will be after a treasure belonging to the Dark Lord," said Snape. "It is somewhere in this room, so we must keep it protected at all times in the event she told someone of her discovery. Assuming she even knows it's here."
"Why are we taking orders from you, Half-Blood?" Amycus spat.
"Because I was appointed Headmaster of this school," said Snape cooly. "The Dark Lord has entrusted me with manipulating the young minds of this institution to be loyal to his cause. For that matter, I would appreciate it if you would try not to murder any other professors. Positions are so difficult to fill and he has requested keeping as many followers as possible out there, rounding up the vermin hiding away."
Hermione's heart jolted at the knowledge that someone was dead and flashes of what Hogwarts had seen layered on top of the vision. Charity Burbage was kidnapped in her office. Cedric was saddened. She didn't really know anything about the Muggle world, but she was a kind woman and taught to the best of her abilities. The other was Remus Lupin's replacement. A wizard by the name of Laurie Fisher. Hired by McGonagall before Snape was put in charge. He refused to pledge his allegiance to the Death Eaters and they killed him brutally in front of the dozen first-years that didn't go to Beauxbatons.
How horrible. Everyone flinched at the memory.
Hogwarts' relief that her Muggle-born students were safe at Beauxbatons soothed them.
"Should we not be looking for the Dark Lord's treasure?" asked a wizard. "In order to help him move it to a safe destination?"
"Brilliant idea!" said Snape sarcastically. "Do you know what the treasure is?"
No one responded and he sneered.
"The mudblood had aurors in this very room. She can see magic and if she saw anything like what I assume the Dark Lord has hidden, she would have called them to it. It is safe and she will be out of the way soon enough. The little nit used this place for exercise, nothing more."
"What of Potter?"
"Even if he were in the country, he is none of your concern. Any other stupid questions or may I return to my duties?"
The vision ended and Cedric let go of Lee's hand. He kept his other hand on Hermione's shoulder while she returned. She blinked and shook her head, smacking her lips.
Coconut. It's always coconut.
"I had a vision," she said out loud. She considered making a Wizard of Oz reference, but decided against it. Why am I on the floor?
"Yes," said Mad-Eye. "Cedric was kind enough to share it with us. I had no idea you were such a skilled legilimens, lad. How'd you learn it?"
"Out of necessity," he said and helped Hermione to her feet. "Are you feeling alright? No dizzy spells? Seizures? Paralysis?"
Belphoebe. She shook her head. "No. I'm alright. Promise. Hogwarts shows me things sometimes."
"Still, perhaps you should have a seat." He pulled her chair out for her and hovered while Tonks put the ice cream away.
When she returned, Hermione took a deep breath.
"Okay," she said. "So they're removing Muggle Studies and History of Magic. Probably with indoctrination classes. Not that they'll have to try very hard. Wixen already infantilize Muggles, it's all to easy to push them to a lower category. And the History of Magic professor will no doubt sanitize actual history even more than it already is. Rounding up 'vermin' he said. That's cause for concern."
She drummed her fingers against her cheek.
"Could he mean the muggle-born kids we hid at Beauxbatons? Or perhaps future Hogwarts students? Snape does hate children."
"That is likely," said Kingsley. "He may not intend to kill all the muggle-borns. After all, if he spilled all magic blood, it could bottleneck the population. He will likely keep them around for the, pardon my language, shit jobs. Or even for… experimentation."
"Mm…" Hermione did a double-take, noticing Cedric's hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him and he removed with an apologetic smile. She continued on.
"Well, whether it's for eugenics or for mass murder they'll be safe. I don't even know where Madame Maxime put the book of admittance snd she'd be a tough foe to beat. She was the Dueling League Europe Division Champion for eight years straight, ending only to focus on teaching full time."
"Exactly," said Kingsley. "He said there's a horcrux in that room. Should we find a way to retrieve it?"
"We already got it," Cecilia reminded him. "We're going to let him think it's still there, though. Because we're holding the final battle at Hogwarts. Right, Nia?"
"Right," she said. "The locations of the others… Dumbledore didn't tell me before he died. He even attempted to erase my mind of their existence, hoping I would relearn them at the time he wanted me to."
"Are you sure that's what happened, Granger?" Mad-Eye asked. "Why would he do that?"
"You really asked me that?" she scoffed. "He agreed to use Harry as bait during the Triwizard Tournament."
"Not to mention a bunch of first years could get to the Philosopher's Stone," said Fred. "He didn't tell any parents about the petrified students."
"And he trusted Snape," George added. "And that one got him killed."
"I think he was left unchecked for too long," said Cedric. "Hermione wouldn't lie about something like this."
"I didn't fit on his chessboard and him trying to wipe my mind was an attempt to make me fit," said Hermione. "We have clues, we just… need to decipher them. I can show you my notes."
She rubbed her neck and sighed heavily.
"I'm going to bed. Please refer to the chore chart for clean up duty."
She carried her dishes to the kitchen and went upstairs. Cedric took a deep breath and checked the chore chart. She was carrying so much. She only let him ease it for one night, but he'd shoulder it with her if she'd let him. He would prove it to her.
It was his and Fred's turn to clean up from dinner.
"Fred, we're up," he said.
"Of course," Fred sighed.
George and Lee gave Kingsley and Mad-Eye the tour while the rest went upstairs. Cedric carried the dishes to the kitchen and got the water going in the basin. He put the leftovers in a container and put it in the fridge. Just enough for two or three people to have leftovers for lunch.
"I wash, you dry?" Cedric suggested.
"Whatever."
When it was clear they were alone, Fred spoke.
"You broke her heart and have the nerve to follow her around like a lost puppy?" he said scornfully. "If she asked you to jump, you'd do it without question. Probably straight over a cliff."
"You may be unaware but I was wanted for murder," said Cedric. "I didn't want them going after her for being associated with me. And Mimi lets me know when to leave her alone."
Fred snorted in disbelief.
"You've fallen for her," said Cedric, scrubbing the plates first.
"Does that piss you off?"
"No. I can't fault anyone for falling for her," he said. "The flirting upsets me, but it's not like I can ask you to stop."
"Good, cause I won't."
"If you want to pursue her, fine. She's still my best friend, even if I'm no longer hers. If she decides I blew it and wants a relationship with someone else, that's her decision. I may not like it, but I respect it and I'll stand aside if she wants me too."
"You're really going to just let me flirt with her?" Fred asked incredulously.
The urge to pick a fight was strong, but he knew it would put them both in the dog house with Hermione rather than endear them to her.
"She's not my girlfriend anymore," Cedric huffed, scrubbing harder despite the dish being clean. "Much as I regret leaving her. I'll let her decide if she wants you to flirt or not, but your feelings better be true. She's hurt enough and I won't let you chase her because you think it'd be funny or you think she's going to replace Angelina."
"Oh, I think you've hurt her plenty."
Cedric scowled. "I still know her. She prefers sincerity. If you keep turning your feelings into a joke, she'll think you're making fun of her."
"I don't need flirting advice from you, Diggory. You've never held down a girlfriend in your life!"
"Neither have you! At least tell me you like her for who she is and not what she could be. Love doesn't mean changing someone to suit you."
"Of course I do," Fred huffed. "And I know the best way to a woman's heart is laughter."
"Plus mutual respect and proper attention," said Cedric.
"Well, yeah that's a given. I have done this before, Ced. Not as many times as you, but I have done it."
They needed to stop this posturing and finish cleaning up. At least Lee and George were still friendly with him. Tonks was, too. Cecilia? He wasn't sure. It was fine. And as long as Hermione let him hang around, he'd find a way to be content.
When the kitchen was clean, he thought about going up to bed, but it wasn't really late. Not in the slightest.
"I'm going to the barn," he said. "I've got some stuff to work on."
"I don't care."
Cedric rolled his eyes and grabbed a couple of ears of corn for the cows. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and headed towards the barn. He felt eyes on him and whipped his head around.
The curtains were only open for one room. Hermione sat in her window seat, staring down at him. He couldn't see her very well, but he knew it was her. He waved and entered the barn.
He wasn't going anywhere.