Harry Potter and the Wizarding World belong, not to me, but to JK Rowling.
Chapter Twenty-Six
The days after Hermione's return were more enjoyable than any Heather could remember for a long time. They spent most of their time catching up, just the two of them and with the other residents as well, swapping stories of their very eventful summers. True to her word, Heather did not touch a single drop of alcohol, though the desire was still a constant presence in her mind. Out of respect for her no one else drank anything stronger than pumpkin juice or water, at least not in her presence anyway.
No longer going to bed senselessly drunk, Heather could tell that her sleep was improving. It was less frequent that she would wake up either to throw up or greedily gulp down water. The only downside to her sobriety was that without the shield of inebriation to keep it at bay, the dream was becoming a regular occurrence. At least once a night she would find herself being chased down that long stone corridor by clouds of darkness or facing down Quirrell with Harry's face in the back of his head, each time asking "Why?" Fortunately she remembered to keep her wards up every night so that if she cried out, no one would hear it, and slowly the terror associated with the dream was beginning to dull with repetition.
On the fourth day Heather and Hermione were asked to meet with Kingsley at the Ministry. From the moment Heather woke and dressed that morning, she clutched tightly at the silver badge it felt as though she had only just been given. The weight and reality of what was going to happen had settled on her like a shroud and more than once her resolve quavered. At breakfast, Hermione must have been able to sense this and it was only by leaning on her grim determination that Heather was able to swallow enough food to settle her stomach. When it was time to go, she followed Hermione from the house wordlessly. Tonk's coat hung by the front door where Heather had left it days ago. She hadn't worn it since Little Hangleton, and even as she looked at it hanging there, she could feel it mocking her.
Before their meeting with Kingsley, Heather needed to drop by Diagon Alley to complete another of today's goals. With Hermione's help she had drafted a letter, that was much shorter than it had felt while writing it, asking Professor McGonagall if it was too late to return to Hogwarts. Apparating so as to bypass the Leaky Cauldron, Heather ducked into the post office while Hermione waited outside. Once again, as the handsome barn owl Heather had hired for the trip took flight over the alley and vanished into a low hanging cloud, she wondered if it was finally time to get a new owl. Nothing could replace Hedwig but it was getting tiresome having to go out of her way just to post a letter. "No going back now," she muttered, staring at the spot the owl had disappeared.
The Atrium was blessedly empty. They had made sure to time their arrival to take place after the end of the morning rush. Silently Heather had marveled at the fact that this meeting had been kept quiet enough that the press was not waiting for them with their cameras. Ron was waiting for them just outside the life on Level One. Was it Heather's imagination, or did he refuse to meet either her or Hermione's eyes as they made their way to the Minister's office? He had accepted her apology well enough, but there had been very few words between them since. Hermione hadn't been able to shed any insight on the situation either, leaving Heather's thoughts to run in dark directions.
There was no delay in shepherding them through the outer office today. The moment they entered, the Minster's head secretary, Heather had learned her name was Beatrice, leapt to her feet. Some silent signal must have alerted Kingsley to their presence because his inner office doors slid open a heartbeat later, revealing his towering form. He was dressed today in deep purple robes trimmed in gold. He waved them towards him. "No interruptions, Beatrice," he told his secretary before moving aside to allow Heather, Hermione, and Ron access. "Hermione," he said warmly, holding out a hand to take hers before pulling her into an embrace. "It is good that you've made it home safely."
"Thanks, Minister," Hermione replied a bit stiffly, this having been her first meeting with Kingsley since he had taken the job.
Kingsley released her and batted the title aside with a wave of his hand. "Please, no official titles today." He slid the doors closed and gestured them towards the comfortable seats from Heather and Ron's last visit. The next few minutes were spent with perfunctory questions about Hermione's trip to Australia, during which Heather sat quietly, feeling the conflicting emotions within her struggling for control. When he was done, Kingsley turned to take in Heather. "I understand that you have something to tell me," he said without any hint of feeling. Heather could detect no pity or disdain in his eyes, however a shudder forced its way up and back down her spine. She knew Robards had been told something about her…state after the Little Hangleton raid, after all he had authorized her temporary leave, but had word of just how bad things had been reached Kingsley's ears? Kingsley folded his hands in his lap while he sat there, waiting.
Taking a deep breath, Heather nodded. "I do." From her pocket she withdrew the badge and her folded letter of resignation and laid them on the table between them. Four pairs of eyes followed the silver device and lingered heavily on it after it was set down, glinting in the bright sunshine streaming in through the enchanted windows. It looked four times larger to Heather. Her heart was pounding in her chest as seconds turned into a minute without Kingsley breaking the silence.
"I see," he said at last, "May I ask why?
Heather gulped past the lump in her throat. "Err, do you want the official reason or…" she trailed off.
A smile crossed Kingsley's face, reassuring her only a little. "I will accept either reason, though I would hope by now that you feel you can trust me with the truth.
"I…I can't fight anymore," Heather said through another throat spasm. "I don't know why not or what happened, but I can't do it anymore." She felt Hermione's warm hand snake around hers and squeeze it tightly.
Kingsley nodded. "I think I can understand that, at least as well as anyone who's been fighting for as long as we have." His eyes took in all three of them. "I realize that asking you to become an auror after everything you'd been through was a lot to ask, and so I would like to apologize if that had had anything to do with that you're now dealing with."
"No," Heather replied fervently, shaking her head. "Kingsley, please don't. Being an auror was my life's goal for as long as I can remember. If I was strong en-" Hermione's fingernail drove itself painfully into Heather's palm. "I mean, if I could keep going it, I would, I just…" her voice trailed away.
"You can't anymore." Kingsley finished for her. He turned to look at Ron, who so far had remained quiet. "And you, Ron? Are you also handing in your badge?"
"No way," Ron stated firmly, puffing his chest out a little. This irked Heather in a way she couldn't entirely explain, but she let that go for the time being.
"Well," Kingsley said, reaching forward and plucking the badge and letter off the table. Heather watched them disappear into the folds of his robes longingly and almost called out for him to stop. Then they were gone and the moment had passed. "Now that Hermione has returned and Yaxley has been taken care of, I think it's about time to finally hold the award's ceremony that you and I discussed months ago, Heather." Hermione took the announcement that she had been granted the Order of Merlin better than Heather had, in fact it hardly phased her.
"Fine," Heather said, dreading the fact that she was going to have to make a speech of some sort, "but instead of just being about us, it should honor everyone who fought at Hogwarts."
"I agree," said Hermione, followed quickly by Ron.
"It should be for everyone," he insisted.
"Why not have it at Hogwarts then," Kingsley suggested thoughtfully. "I had already intended to have some sort of memorial created for those who fell in the Battle, and what better place to put it than at the site where so many died."
"Sounds good to me," said Ron eagerly.
"Well then, it's settled. I'll work out the arrangements with Professor McGonagall and we'll reach out when we have a date. It'll need to be soon, what with school starting in a few weeks." He rose and they followed suit. "Heather, it's been an honor to have you with us for these past few months. I want you to know that I do not judge you for leaving us, and I hope you know just how grateful we all are for your service." He clasped her hand in his large, warm ones. "If you need anything, all you have to do is ask. Hermione, again, welcome home. Ron, keep up the good work."
After being bowed out of the office, they strode in silence towards the lift. It was, mercifully, empty. Heather was hoping to make it in and out of the Ministry without being seen. When the grilles opened onto Level Two, Ron said still without really looking at either of them, "Right, see you two tonight." Heather stood still for half a second before following him. She hadn't meant to get out, after all there was nothing here for her to do anymore. Ron had already agreed to gather up her possessions and bring them to the Wyvern tonight when they got together for Hermione's welcome back party, and as far as she knew there was no paperwork she needed to sign. Her resignation letter was all that was required to finalize her termination. Still, she needed to see this place one more time, to face it, and to say goodbye.
She had only been gone a week, but the feeling of already being a stranger her pressed in on her as she passed through the double doors and into the rows of cubicles. Ron looked back questioningly, but she waved him on. She didn't entirely understand this feeling, after all nothing had changed. Or had it? The paint was still peeling and was covered in haphazardly placed posters, memos whooshed by overhead, and the smell of three-day old coffee was ever present as always. Still, she couldn't escape the feeling that she didn't belong here anymore, like a guest at a party she was no longer invited to. Fighting down this discomfort, she pressed on, taking the familiar turns to reach the cubicle she had spent so many hours in, looking for Honeywell. The blonde auror was seated in her swivel chair, her feet kicked up on the cluttered desktop, reading from a thick, purple folder. Heather knocked and she looked around.
"Oh, Potter!" she said brightly, swinging her feet down to land heavily on the floor. Heather hadn't seen her since the raid, and her stomach churned at the sight of Honeywell's face. The woman's almost elfin looks had been ruined by a bright pink scar that started around the middle of her left cheek and travelled upwards across her eye, which was now pale and dead looking, before slashing across her forehead and into her hair, which had already been magically regrown. "I was told you were on leave."
"I was, I mean, I am. I…what are you doing back at work already?" Heather, tripping over her words while trying hard not to stare at the damage.
"Oh pssh, you really think a little something like this, would hold me back?" she gestured carelessly at her face. "No, I think it just gets me one step closer to my Mad-Eye Moody impression." She was laughing in the same carefree way as always, leaving Heather floored. How could someone suffer an injury like that, one that utterly destroyed her face, and laugh about it?
"Right. Well, I thought you should hear this from me before it gets out," Heather continued on numbly, "I'm quitting. Actually, I just quit."
Honeywell stopped laughing. "Are….you're serious aren't you." Heather braced herself and nodded. Honeywell rose from her chair. Heather grimaced, waiting for the explosion, the disappointment, something. What she didn't expect was for Honeywell to hold out a hand for her to take. "It's been a right pleasure working with you, Potter."
Heather grasped the proffered hand hesitantly. "You…you aren't mad?"
"Mad?" Honeywell laughed again, "why in Merlin's name would I be mad? Damn's sake, woman, you've done more than any of us have already, or probably ever will! What right do I, do any of us, have to be mad that you're going on to do something else with your life? After all, isn't that what we fight for, so people who don't want to do things like this can have a normal life?"
Heather's mouth was hanging open, and it took several minutes before she could close it again. "Yeah, I mean I guess…I never thought of it that way."
"Course you didn't. You've been a weapon since you figured out which end of the wand to hold. It's like I told you when you joined up. You wouldn't be able to rest knowing the death eaters were still out there and you weren't helping put them down. Well," she shrugged, "it looks like they're really done this time, and it was you who managed to finish them, again." Over the beginnings of Heather's protest that it had been more than just her, Honeywell continued on, "Go live your life, Potter. That's not something most of us aurors know how to do anymore, so it's up to you to do it for us, well me anyway."
Tears were now filling Heather's eyes, and her throat had swollen shut. She nodded, and Honeywell understood. "You're right, best not to ruin this touching moment by being soppy. You know how blokes are when they see women crying. It's not pretty." She laid a hand on Heather's shoulder. "Be good, Potter…Heather." Heather nodded again and let out a watery chuckle. Not sure what else to do, she turned to leave. "Oy, Potter," Honeywell said before she left. Turning back one last time, Heather saw her former mentor hunched forward as though leaning on a heavy staff. Her face had taken on a grotesque appearance, greatly aided by the still fresh battle wounds. In a gruff voice that was a passable imitation of Alastor Moody's, she grunted, "Don't' forget, Constant Vigilance."
Heather smiled back and nodded again before leaving the cubicle. On her way through the office, she saw Gawain Robards leaning through his office door and nodded to him without speaking. He opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, and she stopped. "Umm, listen Potter…" he began, "I know when you started I wasn't too keen on you, on any of you lot. To be honest, I didn't really think you had it in you. I just wanted to say, good job on proving me wrong."
"Thanks, boss." Heather said before pushing through to the lifts.
Hermione was waiting for her in the Atrium, glaring irritably up at the fawning centaur standing in the pool of water. "Ready to go?" Heather asked, joining her.
"Absolutely. You know, this place really does give me the creeps." Hermione said, taking in the wide Atrium. Heather also looked around, more than ready to leave the memories of this place behind her.
"Yeah, that never really goes away I don't think," she replied. Taking Hermione's hand, she allowed herself to be pulled into oblivion.
Their next stop was the Burrow. Hermione hadn't been there yet, and it had already been decided that they would spend the last weeks of the summer there, away from London and the emotions of Grimmauld Place. While mostly a formality, Hermione insisted that they ask Mrs. Weasley for permission to move back in, just to be safe.
"Well of course you can dears," Mrs. Weasley gushed after pulling Hermione into one of her signature bone cracking hugs. She had practically jumped through the roof when Hermione had entered the kitchen. "Haven't Arthur and I told you to think of this as your home?"
"Thanks, Mrs. Weasley." Heather replied, doing her best to avoid a hug herself.
"Ginny will be pleased," Mrs. Weasley continued happily, now moving towards the counter so she could make them some lunch, even though neither witch had mentioned being hungry.
"Yeah, where is Ginny?" asked Heather, who had been expecting a red headed bullet to appear the moment she heard Hermione's voice drifting up the staircase.
"I don't actually know," said Mrs. Weasley, who had begun making sandwiches. "I assume she went to London to visit Luna. She saw the newspaper this morning, and I know that upset her. So she probably wanted someone to vent to that wasn't her mother. Come to think of it she didn't even tell me she was leaving. She just stormed out."
"What was in the paper?" asked Hermione. The communal copy delivered to Grimmauld Place hadn't been in the kitchen when they had eaten breakfast that morning and Heather hadn't even wondered about its absence while lost in thought.
Carrying a large stack of sandwiches over to the table, she set them down and picked up the crumped remains of this morning's Daily Prophet. Unfolding it, she handed it to Hermione. "Here you are, dears. Front page. Heather read over Hermione's shoulder.
Students to be held back at Hogwarts School
In an unprecedented move yesterday, Minerva McGonagall, recently appointed Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, announced that 'following the tumultuous events of the previous term, all students returning to Hogwarts will be required to re-sit their previous year.' McGonagall's statement went on to say this action was due not only to the fact that the summer term had been cut short by the Battle of Hogwarts and subsequent evacuation of the school, but also because it would be unfair to those students who were barred from attending Hogwarts based on their blood status.
Already many parents have spoken out loudly against this policy, as it effectively adds another year to their children's education and delays them from being able to begin their chosen careers. Other voices have supported the decision, agreeing that to not hold back all students would be unfair to muggleborns, who would therefore be at a disadvantage during possibly the most important years of any young witches' or wizards' life.
As the minimum requirement for completing an education at Hogwarts is the passing of the O.W.L. exams, those students who are both of age and have achieved at least that goal are not required to return. Already some institutions that previously would only accept applicants who had earned N.E.W.T.'s have announced that they would be relaxing these policies so as to allow former students to gain employment without returning to school. Whether this will mollify those parents and students who view this action as unfair is yet to be determined.
"It makes sense," Hermione was saying while Heather read the last paragraph. "And McGonagall's right, to not hold back the pure and halfbloods would be terribly unfair to the muggleborns. Just think of all those twelve-year-old's who were supposed to start their first year last September. They were going to be behind regardless."
"Hmm, yes, I tend to agree," Mrs. Weasley said thoughtfully, "Still, it's made Ginny very upset. She was looking forward to being done with school this year. Now, eat up." She gazed expectantly towards the food on the table, and under this look both Heather and Hermione snatched up sandwiches.
As though this mention of her name acted like a summoning charm, Ginny stormed into the kitchen. Catching sight of Heather and Hermione, along with the unfolded newspaper, she huffed, torn between excitement at Hermione's return and, presumably, vexation at McGonagall.
"Hermione!" she said, choosing which emotion to follow first. They exchanged hugs and Ginny complimented Hermione on her tan. Her happiness faded quickly however, once the subject of the news was brought up. She had just started into what felt like an already rehearsed tirade against the unfairness of it all when an owl tapped on the kitchen window. In its beak was a letter from Kingsley, announcing in broad pen strokes that the Order of Merlin Ceremony would be held in the Hogwarts Great Hall in two days, starting at seven o'clock.
Ginny's irritation disappeared instantly. For reasons unknown to Heather, Kingsley had been sure to add in the letter than dress robes would be required. "What did he expect me to show up in, a potato sack?" asked Heather petulantly.
"It's probably just a formality, dear," chided Mrs. Weasley, who was now reading the letter.
Heather looked at her friends and instantly recognized the look on Ginny's face. "Let me guess," Heather said wearily, "this means a shopping trip doesn't it?"
"Of course it does," said Hermione, surprising Heather. "Have you taught her nothing since I've been gone?" she asked Ginny in a mock tone of exasperation.
"I've done my best," Ginny replied in a put-upon voice, playing along.
"You two can stop right now, or I'll be wearing that potato sack just to spite you." Heather said grumpily. Still, the prospect of hunting for clothes was preferable to contemplating the upcoming ceremony, specifically the part of it where she would be giving a speech.
"Diagon Alley?" Ginny asked Hermione, ignoring Heather.
Hermione nodded. "Sounds good to me."
"Right, well," Heather said, consulting her watch, "We've got a few hours before we need to meet everyone at the Wyvern, so if we're going, we might as well get it over with." Ginny and Hermione rolled their eyes but got up and followed her from the house. Mrs. Weasley called out an admonition to behave before closing the door behind them.
They didn't find their outfits in Diagon Alley, but rather in the muggle world. As two of the guests of honor, Heather and Hermione's dresses had to be 'perfect,' according to Ginny anyway. After hours of perusing stores, Heather found a periwinkle blue dress accented with tiny, sparking specks, that had a neckline she thought she could live with, knowing full well that pictures of her in it would plaster the newspapers for weeks to come. Over it she planned to wear a sheer scarf made of matching fabric that would do little to keep out the chill but would give her more cover than she would otherwise have. The dress fell all the way down to her ankles and only with heels would she be able to keep it from brushing the floor as she walked. Hermione had chosen a similar dress of midnight blue, that Heather knew she would look amazing in. Ginny's choice was pale gold, a color she seemed to prefer. It was completely strapless, something Heather suspected she had chosen specifically to rebel against her mother. Still, with her figure it would be quite appealing.
Their hands full of bags, because of course they hadn't simply purchased their dresses and left the store, the three witches arrived at the Wyvern just after six o'clock, something Heather viewed as a minor miracle. It was far to easy to get swept away shopping, more so than she ever might have expected. As was expected the tiny pub was packed, mostly with the usual crowd. Ron, Padma, Neville, George, Seamus, and Katie, who was all but sitting in Seamus' lap, were all crammed in along the bar, while Daphne, Susan, Luna, and almost half a dozen others filled the few remaining chairs. The party was already in full swing. Apparently the presence of the evening's honoree was not a requirement for the drinking to begin. The smell of several of the nearest cups made Heather's stomach churn with a mixture of longing and nausea. Before she could decide which feeling was stronger, someone noticed them and shouted loudly.
"Hermione, my love, the queen of my desires!" shouted George, leaping from his stool with more grace that anyone had any right to expect considering the crowd around him, and pushed towards them. As he had done with Heather so many times, he scooped up Hermione's hand and began planting kisses on it.
"Moved on from me, thank Merlin." Heather muttered good naturedly to Ginny as laughter broke out all around them.
"Quit complaining," Ginny grinned back. Unfortunately, George heard her.
"Heather!" he cried as though he had only just seen her. His head whipped back and forth between her and Hermione for a moment, looking for all the world like a man torn between two women he loved, unable to choose. Finally, with an apparent surge of willpower, he pulled Hermione towards him. "Sorry Heather, but the heart wants what the heart wants."
Heather shrugged, watching with inward glee as Hermione struggled to escape George's arms while trying not to laugh herself. "Well, all good things must come to an end," she said philosophically.
"GET. OFF. ME!" Hermione shrieked, and with a good-natured laugh George released her. Heather was laughing with everyone else now. There was just something about George and his shenanigans that always seemed to drive away any lingering dark clouds. It was one of the things that made him such a good person to own a joke shop.
"It's good to see you, Hermione," George said.
"Good to see you too, just not so…closely," Hermione replied, trying her best to look stern and failing completely.
Ginny, who had used this distraction to secure George's abandoned place at the bar now called out, "You just keep aiming out of your league, don't you bro."
George spared a look of faux spite at his little sister before trying to scoop up Heather's hand. "Oh please, won't you take me back?" he pleaded.
She snatched her hand back and held it to her chest. In an aggrieved tone, she cried "After you openly leave me for Hermione in front of all of our friends, you think I'd just take you back like that? Just what do you have to say for yourself, George Weasley?"
"Umm…at least I have good taste in women?" he asked, thinking quickly.
Someone, Heather didn't know who shouted, "He's got you there, Potter!"
Laughing again, Heather sighed dramatically and said, "Fine, I suppose that will do. Now, how about buying your two ex girlfriend's something to drink. Nonalcoholic for me," she added quickly.
"Your wish is my command, oh Chosen One, the Girl who scored, she who could fell a cave troll with a single glance."
"Funny, that doesn't seem to work on you!" Katie cackled from Seamus' lap.
With these pleasantries out of the way, Heather followed George over to the bar with Hermione, and places were made for them. No one was comfortable but they all managed to fit somehow. Heather was between Seamus and Padma. Jugson set down a grimy looking bottle of pumpkin juice in front of her before popping the cap off. Thankful, and hoping that no one would question why she wasn't drinking something more appropriate for a bar, Heather downed the first third of it, not having realized until now just how thirsty she was.
"Heather," Seamus said quietly under the carrying voices filling the pub, "Robards told everyone today that you quit?" Both Katie and Padma, who were the only others who might have been able to hear the question, leaned closer. Wordlessly, Heather nodded. "Blimey, I mean, what are you going to do?" Seamus continued.
Heather used taking another sip from her drink to give her time to think. "Well, it's like this," she began, "I've been thinking really hard about everything that's happened, and I've come to a conclusion."
"What's that?" asked Katie, staring intently at her.
"I think George and I should run off together and start a travelling circus," Heather replied in a deadpan. She knew this subject would be brought up, but she just didn't want to talk about it right now.
"Did someone say my name?" asked George, coming up behind Heather, though how he had heard her voice escaped her.
"She's giving us some crap about starting a circus with you to explain why she quit the Ministry," Katie said dismissively.
"You know, I've thought about doing just that-" George began before Katie cut him off with a look. "Come on, you can tell us." She said, looking at Heather.
"I just can't do it anymore. It's too much." Heather said. On either side of her, she watched Seamus, Katie, and Padma pull back. She didn't detect and disgust or disdain radiating off of them, more so confusion, but it still hurt a little.
"I…I don't understand." Padma said slowly.
"Look," Heather replied, feeling very hot around her shirt collar now, "it's done and the reason why isn't all that important. What matters is that I'm moving on, and I'll be going back to Hogwarts."
"All right," said Seamus quickly, shifting his body on his stool and turning Katie along with it. "Leave it," he said to her.
"Either of you coming back?" Heather asked him and Padma.
"No," Padma replied, "Might sound strange for a Ravenclaw but I just don't fancy dealing with Hogwarts again."
"What about you Seamus?"
He let out a snort, "Not if I have anything to say about it."
Heather eyed him curiously. "And what exactly does that mean?"
"It means," said Katie, half amused half something else, "that his mum is threatening to disown him if he doesn't go back."
"She can't make me," grumped Seamus darkly.
"Five galleons says she can," laughed Padma.
Heather gave Seamus a quick, appraising once over. "I'll see that bet." She, Padma, and Katie had a good laugh over this bet, much to Seamus' consternation. If for no other reason, Heather was actually looking forward to September 1st now. It felt good to laugh again and find out that there wasn't any ill will towards her for going back to school. Her tension began to ebb as the party continued late into the night, and it felt like things were returning to something close to normal again. Whatever normal was, anyway.