Happy Friday, everyone! Just a bit of fair warning that this one ends on a bit of a cliffhanger but I hope you like it all the same. :) I'm so glad you're along for the ride!
A special thanks to pianomouse for going through and picking apart yet another chapter for me!
In most sections any text that looks like this is the character speaking in another language (usually Bulgarian but sometimes French)-mostly because I'm too lazy to translate everything and have a translation log at the end of each chapter; however, if the section says *flashback* that font indicates that that section is a point in the past. During flashback scenes, any text that looks like this is the character speaking a language other than English.
Disclaimer: I don't own any recognizable characters or settings, those belong to J. K. Rowling. I just enjoy making things in her sandbox.
Chapter Twelve: Moments of Everything
Hermione often viewed her life in moments. There were so many thoughts going through her mind sometimes that singular moments were all she could see. Moments of melancholy like the wedding.
Moments of worry when the people she was supposed to be looking after were threatened.
*flashback*
The Dark Lord is going after one of yours. Either Lovegood or Longbottom.
The missive itself was enough to cause Hermione worry. After all, Neville was to lead the student section of their side while they were still in school. And Luna had a way of finding answers to things that Hermione had never seen. But it was the bruskness and near illegibility of the normally eloquent and calligraphic handwriting of her professor that really set her on edge.
She knew he hadn't had time to restock his own pain potions lately and if the unsteadiness of his hand in that note was any indicator of how much pain he was in…Hermione wasn't sure that he'd be able to properly brew at this point even if he had the time. She had to figure out a way to get him the potions he needed when they were too volatile to shrink and send through her satchel like he'd done with his memory.
*flashback over*
Moments to hold on to.
*flashback*
Viktor's touch felt soothing against the renewed rune on Hermione's hip. She had a feeling he was doing wandless magic again because it was normally intensely sore after being renewed–so much so that she would have to wear high waisted bottoms or loose dresses because even fabric brushing against it was too much–but Hermione didn't care enough to ask.
"When this is all over, what do you see?" Hermione murmurs quietly as her head rests on Viktor's chest.
"I see you and me in this house, building our life together. We'll gripe and grumble about the lack of quiet when your brother and the rest of the Weasleys pop by repeatedly and unexpectedly but they'll also be the first ones to show up on our worst days and to celebrate our best days. We'll get married and it won't be something big despite how much the media pressures it to be. It will be a day surrounded by those closest to us and in remembrance of those who can't be with us any more. And then we will start building our family…" Viktor trails off at that and the magic at his fingertips begins to tingle against the rune on her hip.
"We'll have at least two…so that they're never alone," Hermione picks up where he left off. "I definitely don't see us having as many as Harry and Ron but we'll have at least two and they'll have a whole Quidditch mini-league of cousins to grow up with. And once all our kids are grown and the house is empty again, we'll finally have that quiet we wanted at the very beginning. Just the two of us, in the home we built, surrounded by the memories of all the people we love."
"At least until the grandkids are old enough to figure out how the Floo System works," Viktor finishes, the humor in his voice pulling a smile from Hermione.
Even if their happy ending didn't end exactly like they pictured, she knew that it was worth fighting for. These quiet moments when it was just the two of them showed Hermione exactly where she wanted to be, where it felt like she was always meant to be. They were moments she would never let go of.
*flashback over*
Moments where you risk everything so you don't have regrets if everything turns on its head.
*flashback*
Hermione leaned against the door frame and watched Ginny, Alek, and Vyara take down the wedding decorations by hand. Though Winky was normally particular about how quickly cleanup around the house happened, she seemed to sense that the rest of the inhabitants of the house needed something mindless to fill their time and she hadn't put up a fuss when Ginny had made her promise to let them help her clean up. Though Ginny differed from Mrs. Weasley in the majority of ways, the younger girl still found comfort in cleaning and had–more than once–unloaded Hermione's bags herself when the other girl had come to stay with her.
The fact that Alek and Vyara were helping the feisty redhead, despite how much Hermione knew neither of them was a fan of cleaning, just showed Hermione how much the two already saw her as one of their own.
Hermione just hoped that Alek didn't wait too long. On some level, Hermione understood his hesitation. Alek thought he was too old and had too much on his plate for Ginny. He wanted the younger girl to have a choice in a way that she hadn't in so many other parts of her life. He wanted her to enjoy life.
What Alek had failed to comprehend was that Ginny, like most of the teens in their group, would never have the chance to be a child. Voldemort had taken that opportunity away from her when she was eleven years old. And it's not like Alek was leagues older than Ginny to begin with. He was only eighteen to Ginny's sixteen. Alek had been drafted for the Vulcans at fifteen, making him the second youngest person ever to be drafted for a professional Quidditch team…he hadn't been prepared for how much attention he would get because of it which had resulted in him having Vyara that same year.
Alek also failed to comprehend just how strong headed Ginny really was. That girl knew herself in a way that Hermione felt she herself would never be able to emulate. Ginny was capable, confident, and loyal to a fault. She also wasn't afraid to show any of these things. When Ginny wanted something, she went for it. And there was no mistaking: Ginny wanted Alek.
To be completely honest, everyone already thought and saw them as a family. They spent the majority of their time together and Ginny had unofficially taken over as Vyara's nanny since her original nanny had officially resigned because there had been further complications with her family emergency. The only time Vyara wasn't with one or both of them was when she was learning magic from Harry, sneaking sweets with one of the Weasley boys, and reading a story with Hermione.
"You all are lucky, you know." Charlie's voice makes her jump as the burly dragon tamer sidles up beside Hermione, his shoulder bumping affectionately against hers. "You all have someone to come home to at the end of this. Even if some of you haven't made it official yet."
"You could have that too, you know. If you and Marcus would quit sneaking around to each other's rooms." Hermione had meant for her statement to be joking but the look of sadness in Charlie's eyes has the curly haired witch coming up short.
"He's a quidditch player," Charlie says with insecurity that Hermione had never seen in the ruggedly sure Weasley.
"And you're a DRAGON tamer. That combination is literally a romance novelist's wet dream," Hermione states so candidly that it surprises even herself but the spark of surprise quickly fades from Charlie's eyes as the older man squares his shoulders.
"You're absolutely right."
*end flashback*
Moments of accountability.
*flashback*
"This doesn't look like potions," Marceau's familiar French makes Hermione jump, the glowing illusion above her head shattering in the same moment the tome in her hands falls to the ground.
"Sorry, Marceau. I just–" Hermione can't make an excuse because she knows that
"You've got a lot on your plate right now." Marceau's voice is understanding as his hand clasps Hermione's shoulder.
"That's an understatement," Hermione replies as she runs her fingers through her ever-growing hair.
"It is but you aren't in this alone," Marceau states firmly.
"I know," her voice is barely a reluctant whisper as she finally meets her mentor's eyes.
"Then why haven't you made any progress on your last potion for your mastery this month?"
"I just–" Hermione sighs. "It's always been me, Harry, and Ron. More than once it's just been me and Harry. And, as much as I love Harry, planning isn't his thing so that's always been on me. And the fact that this part…That this thing is in…I don't know what I would do without Harry."
"But have you made any progress on your plan to help Harry?" Marceau probes, though the knowing glint in Marceau's eyes tells Hermione that he knows the answer.
"No."
"As beautiful and capable as your mind is, you need to realize that you can't get caught up in a singular moment. If you do, you will never move forward. Minds like ours need to work on more than one thing at once. We need the physical space in between projects to see outside of our box and to see the strings between seemingly unconnected ideas."
"But–"
"You've said more than once that you know there's something you're missing when it comes to Harry, have you not?"
"Yes."
"So what do you think that means?"
"That I need to look outside of the obvious."
"It means that you need to look beyond what's going on right now. What you're fighting for is important. You're fighting for a brighter future for everyone, not just a certain subset of someones, and it's going to be beautiful but you can't get so caught up in the bigger picture that you give up your own future."
Hermione doesn't know how to respond to that statement because she had never had an adult see her so clearly. Even her own parents hadn't understood her brain well enough to stop her overthinking in its tracks the way Marceau just had. But he'd stripped her way of thinking completely bare, giving her the reality check she knew Viktor, Ron, and Harry had been trying to give her for weeks now…and in the back of her mind, his words replayed in her head because she'd really only been looking at the horcrux in Harry's head as it was in the present.
*flashback over*
Moments of hope.
*flashback*
The sound of glass shattering wouldn't have fazed Hermione considering she'd been living with the twins for the majority of her life since she had turned eleven years old. Vyara's sobs following said shatter, however, have Hermione sprinting down the hallway.
Hermione slows as Vyara's sobs turn to barely audible sniffles and indistinguishable murmurs of an adult voice floated toward Hermione.
"You're not mad?" Vyara's wobbly words float toward Hermione as she reaches the doorway.
"Of course not," Harry reassures her, softly brushing her tears off of her cheeks as he kneeled in front of her. "You didn't do anything wrong. Accidents are a part of learning. Would you like to learn how to fix it?"
"We can fix it?" Vyara sniffles
"We can always fix our mistakes. Even if that means that we just have to clean up our mess and apologize. Luckily putting a pot back together is easy work," Harry states openly and honestly as he holds his wand out to the little girl.
It was a familiar gesture for the little girl. Vyara was still too young to do magic on her own but during one of her many visits down to the pond to see Harry run his images across the water, first the memory Severus has sent him then happier memories of Hogwarts and his best friends once he'd realized the little girl was watching, Harry had figured out that she could use his wand as long as he was also holding on to it. They'd started with the image incantation since that was the one that had interested her most but they'd quickly moved on to other every day spells…One that had appeared to have gone wrong today.
Hermione can't hear the words Harry whispers to Vyara but the exaggerated gesture for Reparo is all too familiar to her, after all she'd had to fix Harry's glasses more than once over the years.
"Repaira!" Vyara mispronounces the spell and more fissures appear on the already shattered pot pieces.
Vyara's bottom lip wobbles in frustration as tears once again fill her eyes.
"It's alright," Harry promises, giving the little girl the softest smile Hermione thinks she has ever seen on her best friend's face. "We aren't always going to get it on our first try. Would you like to try again?"
Vyara nods determinedly.
"This time say Re-pair-O, got it?"
"Got it!" Vyara confirms, turning her attention back to the pot.
Her arm and Harry's move together as she says, "Reparo!"
The pot pulls back together perfectly.
"I DID IT!" Vyara yells, her little body nearly vibrating with excitement as she throws her arms around Harry's neck.
"Yeah, you did!" Harry exclaims, sweeping the little girl into the air in excited circles.
Hermione had never seen Harry as at home as he appeared in that moment. In the way he did whenever she caught him teaching Vyara. He may hate school work and research but he had a knack for connecting with children and a patience for teaching that Hermione had only ever seen in her absolute favorite elementary school teachers.
*flashback over*
Moments of epiphany and clarity.
*flashback*
A smile tugs at Hermione's lips as she watches Bill and Fleur's eyes widen continuously with every word that comes out of Ron's mouth. This was the first meeting with Marcus, Tsveta, Marceau, and Nayden that the older couple had sat in on. They had always been welcome, just like any one on their side that was residing in Bulgaria, but they had chosen to spend the time working on their assigned projects instead. Most of their group had ended up doing that, the only ones who showed up for strategy consistently were Marcus, Ron, Tsveta, Marceau, and Nayden; even she had taken a step back after Ron had moved to Bulgaria because they were beyond the theoretical and working with people. Ron had always been better at recognizing why people did what they did and where they would best fit–even when it meant finding his best friend's insecurities and using it against them because he was hurting.
Under Tvesta and Nayden's scrutiny in particular, Ron's talent had been sharpened to a lethal point and his confidence in his ability had become unshakable. Today, he stood on equal ground with his much older counterparts. He took their feedback and used it as a springboard to spin his strategies in uniquely Ron ways. Neither Bill or Fleur had ever seen just how sharp Ron's mind really was. They, like most people, had underestimated her best friend's ability and now they were seeing just how wrong they had been. They were seeing for the first time why Ron had been offered a spot in Tvesta's office despite the fact that he hadn't yet finished his schooling, a spot that Ron had been more than happy to take after negotiating a support plan in his NEWT equivalents as well as a small amount of time off after the war was completed for him and Harry to get away. For the first time, they were seeing the man that Ron Weasley had grown up to be. The man that being in Bulgaria had allowed him to become.
Hermione herself was proud to see who he and Harry were becoming away from Britain but she was also selfishly happy that both of her best friends had decided to stay. She was also happy that the rest of the Weasley children and Remus seemed to be planning to stay in Bulgaria as well because it meant Ron wouldn't lose his family and Harry wouldn't lose one of the only connections he had to his family.
Winky's distressed squeak and the clatter of a tray to the ground pulls Hermione's attention away from her thoughts and Ron's discussion.
"Miss Winky, are you ok?" she asks as she moves quickly toward the little elf and kneels down beside her to help clean up some of the snack that had fallen to the ground.
"Is that–is that one of the bad things? Like the one in Mr. Harry's head?" Winky asked instead of answering Hermione's question, her wide eyes flickering between the image of Ravenclaw's Diadem–one of the most likely final Horcruxes–and Hermione herself.
"It is," Hermione confirms slowly, her gaze staying firmly on her friend. "Have you seen it before?"
"Yes, Miss Mione…In the room Dobby used to take Winky in Hogywarts when…" Winky trailed off, her eyes looking anywhere except Hermione.
Ravenclaw's Diadem was where Dobby used to hide Winky when she'd been drinking. They just had to figure out where exactly that was in Hogwarts.
"Thank you, Miss Winky. That's incredibly helpful information," Hermione praises, smiling warmly at the little elf.
Winky's demeanor immediately brightened from the praise and she through her arms around Hermione's neck.
*end flashback*
But, most importantly, there were moments that changed everything.
The troll incident that gave her her best friends.
Meeting Viktor that first time in the library.
The Order meeting where she left Britain.
Those were all moments that changed everything…But she had a feeling September 1st of 1998 would be the beginning of a totally new everything.
"Death Eaters have Luna. She was taken from Diagon Alley. Her last sighting was approximately 10:45 AM. Order Members pulled her away from the student army members she was getting school supplies with and were found dead three hours later," Neville's familiar patronus has the whole house moving.
But it's Draco's that truly incites their worry, partially because of the information it provided but mostly because he would have only sent it as a last resort:
"Luna is at Malfoy Manor. She has been under the Cruciatus but is still mentally and physically sound. I was able to buy us some time by claiming her as my reward for successfully fixing the half of the vanishing cabinet at Borgin and Burke's but my claim will only last until the end of the week. After that…after that he plans to use her as…entertainment for the outer circle."