Chapter 7
The energy in the house the next day was very tense. Neville had knocked on Hermione's door early in the morning, to ask if her she felt that confiscating Narcissa and Draco's wands sounded like a good idea to her. Percy had felt that it would be more prudent for them to keep their wands. If they found themselves under attack, Narcissa and Draco being able to defend themselves would be to their advantage. Luna did not want to take them either, as she felt they were just two scared souls, relying on the kindness of former enemies, and being wandless would make them resentful, and add to discourse in the house.
Hermione had to chew it over before answering. Are these two even trustworthy? How DO we know if this isn't some ploy to get Order secrets back to the Death Eaters?
"Maybe we should let them keep them, for now," Hermione had finally answered, much to Nevilles disappointment. Neville was not prepared to put his guard down around the Malfoys, he didn't want them here, and he was not being quiet about his opinions.
Draco and Narcissa hadn't surfaced from their rooms since they had entered them. Neville had been pacing the house like a caged animal, pointing his wand at any little noise, and making his frustration known.
Percy seemed resigned today, too. He popped his out of his room when Neville had knocked on Hermione's door, as their rooms were across a narrow hall from each other, and retreated after he realized Neville was now trying to campaign Hermione to his cause. Luna had cooked them a small breakfast, beans, and some small bread rolls, and had divided them onto 6 plates, volunteering to take two of the plates to the Malfoy's room. When Hermione had gone to her room after breakfast, she noticed the two plates untouched outside their rooms. How ungrateful, she had thought grumpily. Food is so scarce for us, it's not exactly like Order members can just go out into the world to grocery shop. They will wish they had eaten that later when we have no food to cook dinner.
Once back in her room, Hermione pulled out a rolled-up piece of parchment that had her own name scrawled across it. She had bewitched a parchment to be a kind of letter to herself, where she could jot down potential ideas for her plan, without worrying about the others stumbling across it.
The weathered parchment had a few random words written helter-skelter across it, "Fly all the way to FF?" was scratched out and underneath, "Apparate to K-C station, than fly." Hermione was at a complete loss. She felt like a novelist experiencing a nasty bit of writer's block, or an artist with no muse. She didn't feel incapable, she just felt stumped. It had been so easy, compared to this, to plan the break-in at The Department of Mysteries. Things had fallen together like puzzle pieces when Ron, Harry and Hermione had each offered up something for the area they had strength in. But Harry was gone, and Ron was missing. Hermione was alone, and that feeling of loneliness had never felt as big as it did now. She was a prisoner to her own secrets, so close to people who would support her, and willingly help her, but unable to divulge. Water, water everywhere and not a drop to drink, she thought bitterly to herself. She darkly remembered all the times that someone had referred to her as 'The brightest Witch of our Generation" and scowled at the taste of those words. If I'm so bright, how come I cannot figure out my next step?
There was small knock at Hermione's door, the sound of which brought Hermione back from the muddied waters of her mind. She was expecting Neville again, but it was Luna standing there instead.
"Erm, Hello Luna," Hermione said.
"Hello, Hermione," Luna answered in her serene way. "I spoke with Narcissa a few moments ago, and since all her clothes are torn, she doesn't have anything clean or whole to wear."
Oh, no. Luna's going to ask me for her robes back, and my clothes are in just as bad a shape as Narcissa's.
"I have been checking all the wardrobes in the house, to see if I can't find something clean, or at least not ripped up, for her to wear," Luna said, oblivious to Hermione's thoughts.
"Oh…er, ok come in." Why hadn't I thought to do that when I got here? Idiot girl. Hermione thought to herself, as she moved to let Luna enter her room.
They opened the wardrobe together to find a means pair of black robes hanging off a lone hanger. The black family crest was sewn above the left breast. Despite a layer of dust, and a few loose hairs, it was in pretty good shape.
"These will be too big for Narcissa, but maybe Draco can make use of them," Luna said thoughtfully, taking the robes into her hands.
"Erm, Luna? Did Narcissa seek you out to speak to you?" Hermione asked, curiosity brimming over her.
"Yes, she knocked on my door not long ago, or maybe a few doors trying to find mine," Luna said, as she was using her wand to rid the robes of dust.
"Is she...Is she ok?" Hermione asked, not sure how to proceed.
"No," Luna answered back simply, offering no further on the subject. Narcissa must view Luna as the safest one in the house. Merlin knows that family despises me and my blood, Weasleys are all 'blood traitors' and
"I'm going to check a few more rooms for anything else, thank you 'Mione," Luna said as she walked out of Hermione's room.
Hermione wanted to seek out Narcissa and ask her a few questions. Regarding security around Hogwarts, and who was still on staff that was there from before the battle of Hogwarts. But I don't want anyone to have an idea what I'm up to, she thought miserably, disregarding the thought. She couldn't possibly ask without raising suspicions about her plans, and worse yet, if Narcissa and Draco were double agents of sorts, she couldn't risk Voldemort being privy to her plans either. Why Did I think I could do this? she thought wretchedly, falling face down onto her bed in frustration.
A few hours later, Moody and Bill arrived at Grimmauld Place, soaked in rain, and carrying a bag full of assorted food items. Luna and Neville had been in the kitchen, trying to figure something out for dinner, Percy had been in the Front room, scratching away on parchment, and Hermione had been sitting causally on the staircase, reading an old, haggard copy of Hogwarts, a History that she had found on one of the dusty book shelves in the musty library on the second floor. She had also been listening for any sign of the Malfoys, as her curiosity around them grew tenfold since their arrival. She even found herself wanting to speak with Draco of all people, morbid interest developing in the fore front of her mind. She felt that, perhaps if she spoke with him at length, she might be able so sus out whether or not he was trustworthy. And I'm also dying from boredom.
"Bill, Moody, thank you," Percy said, meeting them in the entrance way and reaching for the bag of supplies.
"It's not much, but it's something," Moody growled in response, taking his cloak off and hanging it on a hook on the wall. Bill did the same.
"Hello all," Bill said placidly. "I can't stay very long, unfortunately, and we were hoping to speak with the Malfoys, are they about?" Bill asked, gesturing towards the front room.
"I can fetch them," Luna answered, appearing from the kitchen and turning towards the staircase." Has Luna become our diplomat with them? Hermione asked herself mentally. I'm sure the coziness- if you can this coziness!- between them just thrills Neville.
Once they were all awkwardly seated in the front room, and a fire was made in the fireplace, Bill pulled a piece of parchment out of his pocket, and a quill.
Narcissa and Draco were seated on the chaise lounge together, in matching Black family robes, and Luna and Neville were standing near the fireplace. Percy sat at the rickety writing desk in the corner, and Hermione, Bill and Moody were on the remaining armchairs. Draco looked so much better than yesterday, his hair was smoothed, and his eyes seemed much calmer. Narcissa looked more or less the same, except for the clean pair of robes she had on. Her hair was still wild around her face, and she still had a neurotic edge to her eyes, as if she could pick up and run off at any second.
Neville had his arms crossed and looked very uncomfortable being in the same room with them, but Luna appeared unperturbed.
"Right, "Bill cleared his voice. "We have heard a rumor that Minerva McGonagall is being kept at Hogwarts. Can either of you confirm or deny this?" Bill sked, positing his quill above the parchment.
"I heard she was taken there, but I had not heard anything of her in some months," Narcissa answered, voice shaking slightly.
"Do you know who brought her there? And under what pretense?" Bill asked, writing as he spoke.
"Marcus Fint somehow captured her. We had heard that The Dark Lord was having trouble with some of the things in the headmasters office, and felt she could help resolve the issue. I can say confidently, if the issue is resolved, then Minerva is most certainly dead." Narcissa finished with a sniff, reaching a hand toward Draco beside her.
Draco remained motionless as his mother spoke, refusing to make eyes contact with anyone in the room. I wonder if he is scared to be here. I wonder if he is scared of us? Or maybe just Moody. Hermione thought placidly, not taking her eyes off the Malfoys.
"And have either of you been to Hogwarts recently?" Bill asked, pausing his quill.
"We have not been there since the battle was over and, we were both confined to the manor until our recent departure." Narcissa answered concisely. What a feat speaking to her must have been, wonder how Moody accomplished getting around the Manor without raising the alarms? Hermione wondered.
"Any idea of security around the place? And how they are managing people entering and exiting?" With those questions, Hermione's ears pricked up. Oh, go on, Hermione mentally prompted them. Do tell.
"There are dementors constantly circling the grounds," Narcissa answered.
"We know that already. Anything new for us?" Moody growled, his magical eye swiveling between Narcissa and her son.
"One fireplace, in the Slytherin common room, is hooked up to the floo network. It is connected to one other fireplace, in the Minister of Magics office. Students do not use the Slytherin room anymore, it is reserved for Ministry Member or Death eaters to use on business. Since the other houses were abolished, the students sleep in whichever dorm they please." Narcissa finished curling her fists in her lap and looking down. It looks like she's...ashamed? I don't believe it. " I can tell you this. Transfiguration class is being taught by Byron Edgecomb, and he is being watched heavily by The Death eaters. He has been accused of being too soft with the children, and harboring muggle sympathies. The Dark Lord keeps him on, as the pool of educated Witches and Wizards fit to teach is very small, and he has considerable transfiguration skill. Should you decide to seek out a link to the school, that would be the opportune person." Narcissa said, her voice barely above a whisper. If they were here on Death Eaters orders, that could be a plant. Hermione thought, feeling the weight of that chip on her shoulder again.
"I am familiar with his wife, Madame Edgecomb, through her job and the ministry." Bill said, writing again.
"I was in Ravenclaw, with their daughter, Marietta," Luna piped up. "She never hid my possessions from me, like other Ravenclaw members," She added thoughtfully.
"Marietta was a sneak, though," Neville responded. "She sold out the DA to Umbridge!"
"Yes, out of fear for her mother's job, not malice to the DA. One rotten decision doesn't mean her family line is spoiled," Moody snapped dismissively. "We are going to plan a rescue for Minerva if we can, we will be returning with Kinglsey tomorrow to ask a few more questions," Moody stood to rise. "Narcissa, Draco, we weren't able to recover Lucius's body." He concluded, his face softening slightly. A small sob escaped Narcissa as Draco put an arm around her. "We will back tomorrow, or possibly the day after if travel seems too dangerous."
"Be good, all of you," Bill said, as he too stood to leave.
"Goodbye, thank you again for the supplies," Luna called, heading towards the kitchen to work on dinner.
As Neville and Percy walked out of the room and towards the kitchen themselves, that morbid curiosity welled up in Hermione again. She wanted to inquire about Lucious's death. She just wanted to talk to the Malfoys, feel their intentions, satiate her interest.
"I was...sorry...to hear about Lucious," Hermione finally said, eyeing the Malfoys, still seated in the chaise as Draco tried to comfort his mother, who was crying quietly. Was she sorry? It was hard to feel sorry, truly. Because of the Malfoys' involvement, they had lost so many people on their side. Draco had snuck all those Death Eaters into Hogwarts after all, and Hermione wasn't sure that she could ever let that go.
"Sod off, Granger," Draco finally spit out, eyeing her wearily. There hadn't been any malice in his voice, just resignation. He looked like someone who wanted to be mean, and cruel, but hadn't the energy.
Hermione felt anger blossom inside of her. "You know, you really should have eaten the food luna brought you earlier, instead of letting it turn to waste, there's a war going on outside, encase you failed to notice." She snapped, as she got to her feet and exited the room. What a prat, she fumed silently. We take you in, agree to protect you, attempt to feed you...and I even try to be nice! And offer some human courtesies! And you're still the arrogant prick you have always been!
Hermione Barely made it to the foot of the stairs before the back entrance door banged open, nearly falling off its hinges, and hexes started flying, lighting up the dingy space with the promise of danger.