Last time...

"Is he a good'en?" Hagrid asks quietly. She and Hagrid are watching Tony getting pulled into another conversation about muggle tech with Arthur; this time about the Ford Angela.

"He is, Hagrid." Hera replied, keeping her voice low as well. "I'm as weird as weird can get, and he still wants to be my brother."

"I'm glad then." Hagrid nodded. "He seems a good sort."

"Thank you." She whispers. If he notices the dampness in her eyes, he doesn't say, though he does give her a sort of knowing smile as he hands her another rock cake.

Chapter 34

"So, you're the brother we've heard so much about."

Tony had stepped out of the restroom, and immediately stopped at the sight in front of him. Was he seeing double? He wasn't drunk. He did have some ethical concerns about being drunk around children. He was not going to be his father! So either he'd been drugged, (which okay, magical drugs sounded cool in theory, but he'd bet anything the downsides were worse than the normal stuff, and those were pretty bad on their own) or there were two of them. No. He was definitely seeing two of them. They were certainly enjoying his confusion, that was for sure.

"Ah, the terror twins known as Gred and Forge." Tony commented, remembering Hera's description of them. "Hera's talked about you two. We met earlier, right?"

"We need to know you're going to take this brother gig seriously."

"Hera doesn't need a sometimes family."

"You're worried I'll replace you." He realized, thinking rapidly about how he was going to tell them apart. Hera could do it, but she hadn't told him how.

"No." A new voice, younger than the other two, said from behind the twins. "What we're afraid of is you having no idea what you're getting into, panicking when you realize Hera's messed up in ways money can't just fix, and then you abandoning her when the going gets too tough for you."

"Listen, kid-"

"My name is Ronald Weasley, and I'm one of Hera's best friends. You'd do well to listen to me." The younger boy, now Ronald, warned. "Hera knows you're with us. I asked to speak to you alone. So you're going to come with us, and then we're going to tell you all the things Hera downplayed before that she doesn't realize she has or didn't want you to worry over. You will listen, and you will thank us. Understood?"

Ronald Weasley remembers with distinct clarity the day he met the girl who would become one of his best friends. Specky little thing didn't even look old enough to get onto the train, but her eyes felt like what his mum called an 'old soul'. She'd not said anything about his patchy clothes, or his corned beef sandwich that was too dry; instead trading his sandwich for something she'd cooked herself, and buying a modest amount of drinks and sweets off the trolley to share. It was there that he learned who she was, but he also got his first glimpse into how she'd been living the last decade in the muggle world. It wasn't a good picture, and it didn't get any better.

Attention seemed to bother her, like she thought she was going to get hurt at any moment. She kept sitting in places where she could see the door or window best; both, if she could manage it. She didn't talk about her family much, and when she did it was as 'the Dursleys' or 'my relatives'. Hera never spoke about them with warmth or kindness the way others did about their families. He couldn't imagine someone not loving their family, but as he learned more, he began to piece it together.

He was outside the hospital wing, hiding in a tiny alcove as he waited to see if his friend was okay, when he heard Madam Pomfrey shouting at the Headmaster. Abuse. Her family physically abused her, starved her even. It was a foreign concept to an eleven year old boy who complained that his mother smothered him too much with love. There was no way he could get her away from them, so he enlisted the help of his family for ideas, though he only told his mother the reason why. It didn't take long for Fred and George to figure it out though, seeing the few scars they had in the locker rooms, before they were pulling him aside with questions of their own. Percy didn't say anything, but gave a quiet nod that he would watch as he could, even though he didn't know what was going on; it was enough that his little brother was worried, and that comforted Ron when he thought all Percy cared about was his studies. His mum and dad had been proud of him for looking after someone, but he didn't want praise for this, he wanted his friend to have a family that loved her. It was only right that he offer his own.

After that Christmas, she really seemed to open up, though she still didn't talk about her home life. Maybe she'd already tried telling an adult, and nothing ever came of it. What good would telling another child do? It was the first year she'd gotten a Christmas present, the first gifts she'd ever been given, and he tried not to react to that; he'd seen how embarrassed she'd gotten when the twins asked about the scars on her arms. She started cracking jokes more, expressing her opinions on things, pranks that even the 'victim' laughed at. She never liked to embarrass people, and if anything her pranks seemed to make friends of the people around her.

She thought nothing of helping Hagrid smuggle out a baby dragon, or taking the heat for getting caught after hours so that George wouldn't. Hermione had cracked under the pressure, crying when she thought no one was looking, but after Hera pulled her aside it was as if a lumos had been cast. He quickly realized Hera had no regard for her own life when another was in danger. Hermione had told him the details of that detention they'd gone on, what had happened when they'd been separated from Neville. He made sure to give Malfoy hell for weeks for abandoning them like that, though a part of him knows he has no idea if he would have stayed or ran.

The end of that first year had not gone as expected. The harmless prank for Snape had somehow turned into a trap of Dumbledore's making; set for Quirrell, but they'd fallen for it too. She'd kept the secret of the Philosopher's Stone from them, out of shame and anger at what she'd seen in the mirror, the lie she could never have as truth. She'd gone on that adventure with him in the lead, because they were bored and wanted to see what would happen. Though she'd waved it off, Ron wasn't about to forget that Hera had been hurt because of a decision he'd made.

He wasn't likely to forget the sight of Quirrell's dead body, that was for sure, but it was the sight of Hera looking so lifeless that had scared him the most. She'd lived, but that was the first time he realized they could actually die. He really hadn't thought about it before, being eleven and all. It was much easier to think of Quidditch and food. It had been easy to be angry at her for standing up for the Slytherins when Gryffindor had stolen the House Cup, but had to admit it would feel crummy to win something by stealing it out from under them like that.

That summer, he'd known something was wrong when Hedwig had camped out there and refused to leave even when he gave her a letter. He'd talked Fred and George into stealing the Ford Angela, because he'd need one of them to drive, and backup was always nice. Who knew what they could run into while trying to rescue her? She'd looked like she'd lost weight over the summer, and she was already specky before then. She didn't look like she'd gotten much sleep either, and had fallen asleep in the Ford Angela on the way over.

He'd expected Mum's anger, knowing it would be out of worry; they all had. Hera had not. She'd panicked and had a bout of accidental magic, and ended up apparating away. Fred had told them to look for a small dark space when they were searching for her, because the door to the cupboard under the stairs had bore the words 'Hera's room'. His mum had gotten a particular look about her at that, and then it wasn't long before they found Hera passed out in the pantry. He's fairly certain his mum spent the rest of the summer trying to fatten Hera up, because he'd have to hide her away when her face got that pained look like she'd eaten too much, and sometimes she would get sick from that; her stomach just couldn't hold the amount of food that his mum wanted to put into it.

Second year had been no less memorable, though now he had new worries to focus on. The DADA teacher seemed a bit too obsessed with his friend, and he'd written home about it, only to discover that his mum was just as blind to the danger of the man as the girls at school all seemed to be. His dad had been better about advice, and at least the teachers weren't blind to the man. Seeing Hera duel later on, Ron hadn't realized she could be so ruthless. She'd fought with a tenacity she didn't display normally, but even he had to admit that watching her talk to the snake had scared him.

Being reminded that it was connected to her talking to dragons quickly put things into perspective for him, because that was cool, and Charlie was still trying to get her to work at the Dragon Reserve in Romania. Suddenly, he was having to be Hera's emotional support buddy, because Hermione'd lost her mind in books and public opinion or something. He'd not been prepared for that, but he'd tried. She seemed to be okay most of the time, so he gave her space when she looked like she needed it, and tried to distract her with wizarding chess the rest of the time. He might have also enlisted the help of that Creevey kid, and Ginny.

At least Lockhart hadn't stayed long, and though Ron had the distinct impression Hera had had a hand in that somehow, he hadn't asked. The teachers had had to pick up the slack in rotation, because there was no way to find a replacement so soon. Third year had brought out a lot of changes. Sirius Black being innocent of being a mass murderer, Scabbers being a human in hiding, and the school year hadn't even begun yet. Hera had put herself in harm's way to protect them from the Dementor, and they hadn't even gotten to school, though an adult was present. She protected Malfoy from himself without a thought.

She'd certainly been a lot more outspoken that year; defying teachers, ignoring the headmaster, meeting with Malfoy's dad, smarting off to adults. He had worried she was spiraling, but she never talked back to McGonagall or the other professors like that, so he tried not to worry too much. She really hadn't liked Lupin trying to butter her up with stories of her parents, figuring that any true friends of her parents would have visited, but that had worked itself out. At least the rest of the year had remained blissfully normal, till the summer anyway. Her first thought when seeing tortured children had been to leap towards the danger, not worry she would be next, and he and the others had followed suit without even thinking about it.

It was her words at the Second Task that made him see backwards, made him realize the pattern he'd been missing. How many times had he seen her risk her life with the approval, or the lack of reprimand, of an adult? How many times had she been rewarded for doing something risky when an adult should have handled it instead? This prompted more letters to home, more questions for his father; his mum having long since stuck her head in the sand of denial. She didn't want to believe Dumbledore would willingly risk a child's life like this, but what Ron and the others were seeing was unmistakable, and the pattern was too plain to see to ignore now.

Maybe it wasn't his intention, but Dumbledore had put her life at risk with those Dursleys. Adults weren't perfect, after all. He didn't seem like the evil sort, not that Ron really had experience in what that was, just a bit too pushy about his well meaning intentions. A lot of adults seemed like that, now that he thought about it. They all seemed to think they knew better, without actually listening to what the kid was trying to tell them. He wondered if they would be like that when they got to be adults.

Tony needed to be prepared for when Hera ran off to help someone, or when she just did things without a thought. He needed to be prepared for her to risk her life without thought to her own. He needed to know not to react when she talked about the Dursleys, or else she wouldn't share anything. If he messed this up, the Ministry could step in, and who knows where she'd end up then. Ron had heard enough about Fudge to know that he was the absolute worst person to decide the fate of Hera.

So Ron sat Tony down, and explained things. He talked about his observations at meeting her, more so now that he could look back on them with clarity of focus. He told him the things she'd done without hesitation. He told him about what mannerisms he'd noticed. Ron wanted this brother thing to work out for his friend, and he'd do anything to make sure that the man didn't mess it up, and if Tony ever did…Well, Ron had older brothers that would help him hide the body.

"Think you'll be okay, kid?" Tony asked, when the five minute warning was given at dinner that evening.

"Yeah, I've been training for this." Hera admitted, though she was still nervous.

He didn't need to know just how true that statement was. There were quite a few things she was worried about tonight, and she wasn't sure she'd planned for them all. Between Karkaroff's nervous fidgeting, and Moody's incessant stalking, she felt like she was crawling out of her skin. It bothered her when she couldn't find Percy amongst the judges. It bothered her more when she realized Moody was going to be one of the ones patrolling the blasphemous maze they'd turned her beloved Quidditch pitch into.

"Remember, Cedric," She whispered as they made it to a fork in the maze. "give it everything you have, and be careful. Something doesn't feel right about all of this."

"I'll keep my guard up," Cedric promised, and then cracked a grin. "even around you."

"Good. Now, off with you." Hera snickered, and took the left while Cedric took the right.

The further in she went, the taller the hedges seemed to get, the more the feeling of being watched seemed to envelop her. If it was Moody, she'd have to watch how she marked her trail. That eye of his could see much more than most, and she wasn't keen on him erasing her tried paths. Things seemed a bit too deserted here, as if the maze itself was trying to lure her into a false sense of security, hyping up her paranoia even more. Twice now she'd hit dead ends, and she'd run into Cedric again before he darted off.

"Hagrid's Blast-Ended Skrewts!" He'd said. "I only just got away!"

Not keen on sticking around either, Hera darted through another path. That point me spell was rather handy as far as general directions go, but it was instinct she listened to now. A bubble-head charm got her through the golden mist, but now she had another problem. After several more dead ends, she'd finally ran into her first real obstacle, the blast-ended skrewt. As terrifying as it looked, like a giant scorpion with thick armour, it really just wanted cuddles…and maybe to sample her blood so it would know she was a friend.

Fleur called out, screaming, but it was cut off suddenly. Was she hurt? Dead? Hera didn't know, but she couldn't risk getting scared to try and apparate now. What if she didn't get it right? What if she landed somewhere else entirely? Unable to find the source of the scream, Hera was forced to give up, and keep going. There was something else she had accidentally discovered she could do, travel through shadows, but that wasn't something she wanted to test without knowing where she was going at least.

In any case, the sphinx didn't seem to appreciate it when she used it to avoid the riddle altogether, and then the sphinx met the doggedly loyal Blast-Ended Skrewt that had decided to follow after Hera. Would Tony let her keep a Blast-Ended Skrewt as a pet? Best not. Hagrid might get sad if the only living one left were to leave Hogwarts, and Hera wasn't sure even creating the breed was at all legal. She still wasn't sure why Hagrid hid his wand in his umbrella, or why he pretended he didn't have it. He'd gotten really twitchy at the Chamber of Secrets incident.

Hera decided it was a later problem, mainly because at that moment she was faced with Cedric losing a battle with the biggest damned spider she'd ever seen in her admittedly short life. Hagrid had talked about them with her once: Acromantulas. Intelligent creatures, they could understand human speech, though only a few seemed to be able to converse in it. He'd even agreed to take her into the forest to introduce her to Aragog, but hadn't gotten around to it yet. What she did know was that they were not native to Scotland, and though it would hurt Hagrid, this one had to go.

...

Cedric fell onto his back, and began crawling backwards, unsure how much longer he could hold his own against this thing. The acromantula was resistant to just about everything he'd tried, and it was still coming at him. He was decidedly not prepared for Hera to come hurdling above him, land on the giant spider's head, and drive a dagger through the thing's brain. It scrambled to try and dislodge her, even as it seized into death throws, and Hera ended up having to jump off of the acromantula as it curled in on itself. However, rather than continue on the obvious path to the trophy, Hera began gathering parts of the acromantula into vials; particularly the venom, pincers, and hairs.

"You alright over there?" She asked, sounding a bit winded as she worked.

"Yeah." Cedric replied as he got up, a bit rueful that he hadn't thought of what she had. "How'd you know to carry a knife with you?"

"I'm an apprentice of one of the most paranoid bastards on the planet besides Mad Eye Moody." Hera shrugged as she continued her work. "At this point, it's just an occupational hazard that I have at least twelve on me at all times, if not more. Never know when I'm going to need them, or what for, so there's a bit of a variety."

"Point." Cedric allowed, because it was more than fair to assume Professor Snape was a paranoid bastard. "Did you see any of the others?"

"Heard Fleur scream earlier. Couldn't find her." Hera admitted, not looking over at him yet. "You?"

"Krum tried to attack me, but something was off…" Cedric relayed. "His eyes were funny, like when Professor Moody cast the Imperious on us in class."

"Funny how?" Hera asked, instantly on alert. "I didn't see what the effects were. I freaked out, and attacked the professor for trying to cast them on us instead of allowing it."

"Icy blue, glassy almost." Cedric informed her, only to hear her curse.

"Shite. That's what that was?" She mutters to herself. "I didn't think. Mind control…that arsehole…I thought it just…it was just…that he was…that he just wanted it to stop…that he was tortured…He was mind controlled?…His eyes, how did I miss that?…"

She shook her head as if to clear it, before looking at him in confusion. "What are you still doing here? The trophy is right there."

"I know. I just…couldn't take it." Cedric admitted sheepishly. "Didn't seem fair when you'd just saved my life and all."

"Cedric, what did I say?" She huffed, giving him quite the unimpressed glare.

"Give it all I've got; I remember." Cedric grinned, gesturing to the trophy, as an idea struck him. She'd never expect him to pull a stunt like this. "You also told me to be careful. Do you really think they would leave something like this unguarded in the middle of a clearing?"

"Well, only one way to find out." Hera snorted, stalked over and grabbed the trophy, right before realization dawned on her face. "I can't believe I actually fell for that."

"I can't believe you actually fell for that." Cedric snickered, only to become concerned when her eyes widened and her body lurched. "Hera, what's wrong?"

"Bloody portkey!"

and with that, she disappeared.