A/N Thank you for all the ways that you've supported this story!
Telling her parents was, possibly, the worst part of her ordeal so far.
Hermione had been very careful to shelter her mum and dad from a lot of the troubles currently being experienced in the magical world. Some might consider her lack of communication about the return of a dark, powerful wizard to be akin to lying and, if she was truly honest with herself, Hermione would be hard-pressed to refute that claim. However, she was so used to leaving out the finer details of her time at Hogwarts (such as those events relating to Philosopher's Stones, escaped prisoners from Azkaban and illegal defence clubs that could see her expelled) that it hadn't occurred to her that she would have to tell her mum and dad about the incident in the Department of Mysteries (and its consequences) until Professor McGonagall informed her that she would meet with Hermione's parents in order to reassure them that the school would do all it could to help her cope going forwards.
Her vagueness in regards to the more dangerous aspects of her life as a witch was partly borne of a desire to stop her parents from worrying about her but, also, from a deep fear she had that, in order to protect her, they would want to stop her returning to a world which was a fundamental part of her – a world she couldn't imagine existing without. Her parents had been unwavering in their support of her since it had been revealed that she was a witch and she knew they were very proud of her, but they didn't understand her world like she did. How could they?
Hermione couldn't contain a deeply troubled expression at the thought of having to come clean to her parents about all that had been pointedly left out of her past letters and conversations. Professor McGonagall mistook the frustrated tears in her eyes as a sign of Hermione being traumatised by the memory of what had transpired at the Ministry and gave her arm a consoling, yet affirming, squeeze whilst giving her words of encouragement that Hermione appreciated, even if they weren't quite necessary. While she obviously was deeply affected by the events of the past few days, Hermione wouldn't go as far as labelling herself as 'traumatised', disliking the stigma attached to the word that implied that she was no longer able to function like a normal human being. She may have been struck with a dark and potentially-fatal curse that, if Dolohov was correct, would continue to plague her for the indeterminable future, but she wasn't going to let that get in the way of who she was at heart. And it certainly wasn't going to stop her from fighting this life-altering turn of events with all of her being – handwritten Russian notebooks be damned!
However, seeing the horrified looks on her parents' faces as Professor McGonagall broke the news that it was currently unknown whether their daughter's body was still influenced by a dark curse, made her feel much more like a child than she had done for a couple of years. She wanted her mum and dad to wrap their arms around her and promise her soothingly that everything was going to be OK.
But they couldn't.
Nobody could make that promise to her – least of all her parents, who were completely uninformed of the situation in the magical world, but Hermione knew she was mostly to blame for that. As Professor McGonagall continued to give assurances of Hogwarts' commitment to protect and assist Hermione in whatever capacity she needed in the future, Hermione could see her parents struggling to put everything into context as they stared wordlessly at the Deputy Headmistress.
Hermione grimaced and turned to her head of house, asking for a few minutes alone with her parents. The request was granted with a sympathetic expression and the Granger family had nothing but a deafening silence for company as they gazed at each other.
"I'm sorry," Hermione whispered, anguished tears welling up in her eyes at the knowledge that she'd been a selfish and deceitful daughter. "I'm so sorry," she choked as she began to sob. She hid her face in her hands, unable to bear to look at their hurt expressions any longer.
A pair of arms wrapped themselves around her and she could feel another hand stroking her hair softly. "Oh, my sweet girl," she heard her father mutter.
She wasn't convinced that she deserved the comfort but she returned the embrace desperately, needing her parents' affection and forgiveness. "I should've told you about Voldemort coming back," she confessed between sobs. "I should have told you about everything but I didn't want you to worry about me."
"Shh, sweetheart," her mother said comfortingly as she kissed the top of her head.
After a few moments, Hermione pulled herself out of her father's arms and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "I'm sorry for hiding things from you."
Her parents exchanged a troubled look. "You were trying to shield us," her father sighed, still not looking pleased but there was a hint of understanding in his tone. "You were acting like an adult and making choices to protect the people you love. We're the ones that have failed to do the same," he said softly, reaching up to cup her face. "We allowed our child to get hurt."
Hermione grimaced and shook her head as more tears threatened to fall. She couldn't bear for them to blame themselves for any of this. "It's not your fault, Dad," she insisted emotively. "I made decisions that I knew would put me in danger."
"But – why?" her mum asked, gripping her hand tightly.
"My friends needed me," she admitted simply. "This war that's coming, I – I don't think I'm in the position where I can just sit and watch it pass by."
"Hermione, you're sixteen," her mother reminded her incredulously, her tone implying that she thought Hermione could definitely remove herself from future conflict. "War – "
"War doesn't distinguish between ages, Mum," Hermione told her sadly. "Voldemort tried to kill Harry when he was just a baby, remember?"
At the sight of the grim expressions her parents exchanged, Hermione knew that had been the wrong thing to say.
"Hermione," her father began hesitantly and she shook her head emphatically, anticipating what he was going to say.
"No," she said forcefully.
"It's too dangerous in the magical world," he continued. "You were nearly killed a few days ago!"
"Dad, please," she begged, clamping down on her long-held fear that her parents would prevent her from being a witch. "I know this has come as a shock and I understand that you're just trying to protect me, but letting me return to Hogwarts is the best way to do that. Keeping me away from the world I belong to isn't going to make my magic disappear – I need to learn how to control it and protect myself with it." Her father sighed noisily but Hermione put her hand on his forearm to calm him. "And, and then there's the curse," she added quietly. "We don't know if there are any more consequences. I should be around an adult witch or wizard at all times for a while in case something suddenly happens. I could be a danger to myself here – or even to you two. Mr and Mrs Weasley have offered to let me stay with them for the summer and Professor McGonagall thinks it's a good idea…"
Her departure from her family home less than two hours later left her feeling disheartened and guilt-ridden. Her parents weren't happy about letting her go but they'd seen the need for her to be under magical supervision. Hermione had often spent her holiday time with the Weasleys and she knew that her mum and dad took no issue with Molly and Arthur personally but, rather, were distressed with the whole notion of allowing their daughter to return to a society that was in the opening stages of a war – a war that would see their child targeted because of the circumstances of her birth and her friendship with Harry Potter.
Hermione had promised to be more honest in her letters and said she'd set up a subscription to the Daily Prophet for them so they could keep abreast of events in the wizarding world. Both her mother and father had whispered pleas for her to stay safe and she had simply nodded tearfully in response, not prepared to make them a promise she wasn't sure she could keep. As they exchanged final glances before departing, Hermione had the feeling that her parents were wondering if this was the last time they would see her. She would think them being overdramatic had she not recently experienced such a close brush with death…
In contrast to the stiff atmosphere in her own home, The Burrow was as noisy and full of life as ever. Professor McGonagall had sidealong apparated with her to the site of the lopsided but charismatic Weasley home. Loud noises rang out from the house, proving that the family was home despite the fact that it can't have been more than an hour since the Hogwarts Express had pulled into Platform Nine and Three Quarters. For once, Hermione had not made the familiar journey away from school with the rest of her friends; Professor McGonagall had thought it best to avoid drawing attention to her meeting with Hermione's parents on the crowded platform and they had travelled by floo to London before apparating to Hermione's home instead.
Mrs Weasley must have been looking out for their arrival because she suddenly appeared at the kitchen door and hurried over to them, looking relieved. "There you are, Hermione dear," she said motherly, pulling her into a strong hug before the young witch could even brace herself. Hermione couldn't deny being a little surprised at the intensity of the matriarch's greeting. Apart from those awkward few weeks when Mrs Weasley had suspected Hermione of playing with Harry's affections thanks to Rita Skeeter's ridiculous article, (something both women had long since moved on from) Mrs Weasley had always been very friendly and kind towards her – but this was another level of support and warmth.
Mrs Weasley withdrew and squeezed Hermione's arms, giving her an encouraging smile, though Hermione was a little taken aback by the hint of tears in the older woman's eyes. It was the first time she had been in Mrs Weasley's company since the incident in the Department of Mysteries and she could only assume that the matriarch's actions were due to Dolohov's curse. Hermione was deeply touched that Ron and Ginny's mother cared so deeply for her welfare and had to fight back tears of her own as Mrs Weasley asked if she was OK. Hermione nodded mutely and Mrs Weasley smiled with understanding, kissed the top her head and put her arm around her as she escorted her towards the kitchen.
"You'll stay for dinner, Minerva?" Mrs Weasley asked over her shoulder.
"No, thank you, Molly," Professor McGonagall replied politely as they walked into the home. "Given that it's technically the first day of the summer holidays, I think it's best for both the children and myself if we have a break from each other after the year we've had."
"Well, you'll have a cup of tea at least," Mrs Weasley insisted, steering Hermione into a seat at the long kitchen table.
"Thank you," the Deputy Headmistress replied, also taking a seat.
A cup was also placed in front of Hermione despite her not asking for one, but she knew better than to try and stop Mrs Weasley from providing refreshment to a guest in her house. It was a warm, summer's day but there was a definite comfort to be had as she sipped at her hot tea and listened to Mrs Weasley talk about their journey back from King's Cross via floo powder, and how the Order had made a point to talk to Harry's relatives so that they would treat him nicely during his stay.
All three women had distasteful expressions on their faces at the thought of Harry being in such an unloving environment after the recent devastating events. "He won't be there for long," Mrs Weasley said, attempting to lighten the mood, "Albus said two or three weeks at the most and then he'll be here with us." Hermione was relieved to hear so – she wished he didn't have to go back with his aunt and uncle at all but apparently Professor Dumbledore always insisted and Hermione was sure he had his reasons for forcing Harry to go somewhere he was so unwelcome. The contrast with her loving welcome from Mrs Weasley made her heart hurt for her best friend.
"Thank you for agreeing to have me here this summer, Mrs Weasley," Hermione said, "I really appreciate it and I apologise for any inconvenience I've caused."
"Oh, hush, dear," Mrs Weasley admonished, almost looking stern. "You know we love having you here; you're not an inconvenience at all!"
Hermione smiled at her gratefully, believing Mrs Weasley thought that was true, but then she felt her expression grow troubled and she said tightly, "I just hope that remains the case."
Hermione saw the two older witches exchange worried glances and she didn't blame them. It was no small matter to house someone who had been experiencing unprecedented symptoms from a dark curse.
"Think nothing of it," Molly said, hesitating for just a second before reaching across the table to take Hermione's hand. She had braced herself, just as she had done for the past few days, but there was no strange reaction at her touch and Hermione relaxed. "Arthur and I are more than happy to help in whatever way we can."
"And you know you have the school's support as well as the Order's," Professor McGonagall reminded her.
"Thank you," Hermione murmured, her throat constricting as her eyes started watering again. She wished she would stop getting so emotional when people were being nice to her but she recognised that it was hardly the worst problem to have. She cleared her throat and tried to project a stronger persona: she wanted to be seen as a resilient young adult, not a crying child and certainly not a vulnerable victim. "Hopefully, there's nothing to worry about." She shrugged her shoulders with a forced casualness that she knew wouldn't fool the other women. "Maybe my episode the other day was the end of it." Hermione ignored the twisting in her stomach as Dolohov's silky words echoed through her mind: Do I think the curse is still within you? Yes. Do I think the spell will kill you if we find no counter-curse? Yes. Do I think there's something that can be done to keep its effects at bay? But she couldn't stop her body from shuddering at the memory of the sensation his touch had created within her. Now that you know what my touch does to you, do I think you'll be able to stop your body craving it?
Her hand trembled under Mrs Weasley's fingers and the matriarch opened her mouth in concern but she was prevented from saying anything when Ginny's voice called loudly across the kitchen.
"Hermione! Thank Merlin," the youngest Weasley greeted in evident relief and Hermione pulled her hand from Molly's grasp. "You're not going to believe the news," Ginny continued, then nodded politely at her Head of House, "Professor McGonagall."
"Miss Weasley," she replied, gracing her with a rare smile.
"Why don't you girls go upstairs so you can both unpack?" Mrs Weasley suggested, getting to her feet to carry the finished cups of tea to the sink. Hermione didn't miss the furtive look Mrs Weasley sent in Profoessor McGonagall's direction and she assumed that the two women wanted to talk privately about Hermione's situation. She didn't mind – just that brief foray into the curse and its possible consequences was enough for Hermione at that moment, and she expected that Mrs Weasley had many questions that she didn't really want to pose in front of her.
"Yes, of course," Hermione agreed, pushing back her chair as she stood. She turned to Professor McGonagall. "Thank you, Professor. I am very grateful to have had your support today."
"Not at all, Miss Granger," she replied, also getting to her feet. "Please don't hesitate to owl me if you have any concerns. I very much hope you have an uneventful summer."
Hermione laughed softly. "You and me both, Professor."
The 'news' that Ginny had been so eager to share turned out to be an engagement between her eldest brother, Bill, and the Beauxbatons Triwizard champion, Fleur Delacour. Hermione could instantly see that Ginny was less than thrilled by the idea.
"I've only met her a couple of times and that was more than enough," Ginny grumbled from where she lay on her bed, taking a break from the unpacking that she hadn't actually started, "but Bill's gone and asked Mum to let Fleur stay here for the summer so we can all get to know each other."
"Well, that sounds like a nice idea," Hermione commented as she transferred some of the muggle clothes she'd brought from home into an empty drawer.
Ginny snorted, seemingly unconvinced. "You've obviously forgotten what she's like." She spent a few more minutes making gloomy predictions about Fleur's impending visit and Hermione allowed herself a small smile at the distraction Ginny's grumblings provided.
Even more diverting were the yells coming the room above them. Having stayed at the Burrow on many occasions, Hermione knew that the corresponding room belonged to Fred and George. "I thought they'd moved out?" she posed to Ginny as they climbed the stairs to see what all the fuss was about.
"Oh, they have," Ginny replied over her shoulder. "They came to meet us at King's Cross. They use their room for storage now."
" – wouldn't have dropped it on my foot if you hadn't levitated three of them at me at once!" they heard Ron complain grouchily as they got closer.
"Oh, don't be such a baby, Ronniekins," Fred teased as Ginny pushed open the door to the bedroom and Hermione saw Ron's face darken with a deep scowl at his brother's words. "You don't hear the boxes complaining about their unpleasant encounter with your foot, do you?"
Ron looked to be about to make an irritated retort but his eyes zeroed in on the arriving girls. The anger melted away and his face went through a series of emotions as he looked at Hermione, before finally settling on a supportive smile. "All right, Hermione?" he greeted.
The twins turned around at Ron's words and contemplative looks appeared on their faces as they took her in. "Ah, if it isn't our favourite rebel rouser," George greeted, his thoughtful expression replaced by a small grin.
"Rebel rouser?" she repeated, raising an eyebrow in confusion. "Have you forgotten who I am in the few weeks since I've seen you? Besides, the term's 'rabble rouser' – not that it applies to me, either."
"Wrong," Fred denied flatly.
"As if we could ever forget you, Hermione," George scoffed, "And I meant what I said: rebel rouser."
Hermione shook her head, still confused. "You've lost me."
"Oh, come on, don't act all innocent when we all know that it was your idea to start the D.A right under Umbitch's nose," Fred told her. "And that was the first act that roused the rebels into action, wasn't it? Georgie's just giving credit where credit's due."
George nodded in confirmation, his grin widening, before he gave her a wink, "From one troublemaker to another."
Hermione rolled her eyes but she felt her lips fighting to turn up into a smile.
"And it goes without saying that we're glad it takes more than a dark curse from an evil psycho to see you off," Fred added amiably. "We need all the rebels we can get at the moment."
Ron's eyes had widened in alarm at the nonchalance with which his brother had brought up Dolohov's curse but Hermione was pleased that Fred wasn't treating her any differently, that he wasn't treating her like a victim. "Thank you, Fred."
"So, what was Azkaban like?" George asked, eyeing her with great curiosity again.
"George," Ron hissed looking absolutely horrified at the abrupt question, which was rich considering that Ron normally wouldn't recognise tact if it slapped him round the face, but Ginny tensed too.
Hermione pressed her lips together. Although she didn't particularly want to think about the previous day's trip to the magical prison, she could understand the twins' curiosity and she couldn't find it in herself to be annoyed by the inquiry. The best way she could think of to deal with her experiences with the curse was to be as matter of fact about it as possible. "It was as horrible as you'd imagine it would be," she replied, trying to keep her voice even. Her friends had all gone very still and she realised they were waiting for more details. Given her late return from Azkaban, Madam Pomfrey's insistence that she return to the Hospital Wing to recuperate from her exertions, and the chaos of everyone else getting ready to take the train, she hadn't gotten the chance to really talk to her friends about what had happened in the infamous fortress. And, as much as he'd been scandalised by George's inquiry, she could tell from Ron's fixed stare that he was desperate to know more. If the roles were reversed, she knew she'd be just as keen.
After taking a deep breath, she described the exterior of the prison, the dementors that floated in the air around it, the chilling feeling that intensified with every step closer to the fortress and the screams that echoed throughout the place. She told them about how her encounter with Dolohov yielded disappointing results in terms of a counter-curse and his illegible notebook. However, feeling unable to voice his words aloud, she decided to withhold the Death Eater's grim predictions about the lasting effects of the curse and nor did she inform them of the sensations that had been created when he'd grabbed her wrist.
"Was he sorry?" Ginny asked. Ron scoffed at that and the twins looked at her like she was crazy.
"He's a murdering Death Eater, Ginny," George reminded her in a tone that implied how very stupid that question was.
"I know," she replied with a huff, "I just wondered if there was any trace of humanity in him when he had to look Hermione in the eye – the sixteen year old girl he tried to kill."
They all looked at Hermione expectantly but she shook her head. "He wasn't sorry. If anything, he was amused by the whole thing."
All four Weasleys muttered curse words under their breath and, although she didn't approve of their language, she appreciated their anger on her behalf.
"Well, hopefully it's all over now and he rots in Azkaban for the rest of his miserable life," Ron said darkly. The others nodded and Hermione tried to ignore the anxiety that gnawed at her stomach at his optimistic words.
Over the next few days, Hermione felt the gazes of all inhabitants and visitors to the Burrow tracking her wherever she went. Frequent questions after her health, as well-meaning as they were intended, quickly began to irritate her and she threw herself into her study of the Russian language to avoid enquiries.
When she had entered the kitchen for dinner on the first night of her stay at the Burrow, Hermione's eyes were immediately drawn to a small group of Order members that had gathered at the far end of the table. Remus, Tonks, Arthur and Molly had their attention focused on Kingsley and he was speaking to them in low tones. Mad-Eye was also part of the group but, while his real eye was pointed towards his colleague, his magical eye was fixed on her. She flushed, not used to being under his scrutiny, but this discomfort increased when the other adults all glanced over at her arrival and Kingsley abruptly stopped talking. She was sure he had been telling them about their trip to Azkaban and she tried not to let her embarrassment show at the prospect that the other adults now knew how her body responded to Dolohov's touch even when she was conscious.
If they did know, they at least had the grace not to mention it to her over the course of the evening and Mrs Weasley tried her best to enthuse the dinner guests about the start of the summer. In an alternate reality where Sirius hadn't recently died, Hermione wasn't recovering from a dark curse and the threat of Voldemort didn't loom on the horizon, it would have been a highly enjoyable dinner. Everyone did their best – particularly the twins – but the atmosphere was heavy with the topics that weren't being discussed.
Remus approached her after they had all finished off their bowls of homemade ice cream and, after reassuring him that she was as well as could be expected, she thanked him for his efforts in helping her when she had entered into her trance.
He shook his head, looking both sad and angry.
"His cheek was still very bruised when I saw him yesterday," she told him. "You must have hit him rather hard."
Remus grimaced. "Not one of my finest moments: assaulting an unarmed prisoner."
Hermione recalled the way Dolohov had so casually admitted to attempting to kill her. "He deserved it."
"Absolutely," Remus agreed bitterly as he, too, appeared to recall the Death Eater's actions and attitude. He left not long after, promising to visit soon, and his place was quickly taken by the intimidating presence of Mad-Eye Moody.
"It was quick thinking to cast that silencing charm, Granger," he told her and Hermione, who had been expecting a scolding or paranoia-infused lecture, fought hard to contain her shock at the compliment. "Saved your life, that did. We won't talk about how the overall situation was a case of utter lunacy from start to finish," he continued but, despite his words, he then preceded to talk to her at length about how stupid they'd been to break into the Ministry like they had. "Did you children learn nothing from me this year?" he asked her and then barked, "Constant vigilance, Granger!" The slightly harsh tone alerted Mrs Weasley that Hermione might be in need of being rescued and, thankfully, she interrupted their conversation by asking Mad-Eye about the most suitable potions she should carry around in her handbag in case of an attack.
Kingsley and Tonks used the opportunity to steer Hermione out into the yard to give her a bit of space from the others and she shot them grateful smiles as she felt the mild evening breeze float over her skin.
"Don't let Mad-Eye get you down," Tonks advised.
"I'm fine," Hermione replied, shaking her head. "He was right; no one wants to tell us because you all just view us as children, but going to the Ministry was so reckless of us."
"What's done is done," Tonks shrugged. "Looking back isn't going to change what's happened."
"No, it's not," Hermione agreed, "but I suspect that this war is going to get more dangerous and it's crucial that we learn from our past mistakes."
Kingsley's nod looked vaguely approving but he said, "Hopefully you and the other children will have no further part to play in the war." Hermione made a face at his words, both at the likelihood of Harry being able to avoid being dragged into future battles (and consequently her, too, because wherever he went she was prepared to follow) but mostly at Kinglsey's emphasis on the word 'children'. "You may not like the term, Hermione, but you're all underage and we must remember that. I know that you, Harry and Ron may have already encountered more danger than most people face in their lifetime but – "
"I'm not a child, Kingsley," Hermione insisted. "The law might state I am for another few weeks until my seventeenth birthday, but please don't treat me as one – not after what we've… not after yesterday." She felt her insides shrivel at the idea of Kingsley seeing her as a pathetic little girl after her stressful encounter with Dolohov. She held the intelligent auror's opinion in high regard, just as she did many of the Order members, and her pride couldn't handle the knockback.
"Hermione," he said calmly, bending slightly to make sure he was looking her directly in the eye, "I was merely intending to express that your age needs to be respected."
She felt her cheeks flush at her assumption and Tonks slung her arm around Hermione's shoulders giving her a friendly squeeze. "As if we could ever treat you like a child, Hermione; you're more mature and intelligent than the vast majority of people we have to encounter on a daily basis," she stated, gesturing between herself and Kingsley. Then she scoffed, "Helga's heart, you're more grown up than I am! Right, Kingsley?"
The wizard looked amused and shrugged noncommittally, drawing another light laugh from Tonks and a smile from Hermione. "I'm sure I'll still miss your clumsy ways, Tonks," he told her fondly.
Hermione looked between them in confusion but Kingsley noticed the expression on her face and explained, "I am to start a new job on Monday."
"Oh," Hermione couldn't prevent her mouth dropping open in surprise. "You're not going to be an auror anymore?"
"Still an auror," he replied, looking a little amused at her shocked reaction. "I have been assigned to protect the Prime Minister; the Ministry is worried that Voldemort's followers might attempt an attack."
Hermione's mouth widened even further at this. "The muggle Prime Minister?" she asked and Kingsley nodded.
"He doesn't know, of course," he explained, "at least not yet. I'm going to be working as his new secretary. It's a position that's not going to be widely publicised."
Hermione frowned. "Surely you shouldn't be telling me about your secretive new job?"
Kingsley shook his head. "It's better that you know. Obviously, the amount of magic I encounter whilst working has to be at the bare minimum and I will be difficult to contact unless through muggle means – Patronus messages would be a bit difficult to explain in Downing Street and I don't want to be constantly casting memory charms on my new colleagues. My time is going to be monopolised by my new role and, if there should be a setback in your recovery, I'm afraid I can no longer offer my services so freely like I did yesterday."
"I see."
"I didn't want you to think that your wellbeing was no longer of interest for me – I wanted to explain my future absences."
"That's," she began, very touched that he would go out of his way to reassure her, but she shook her head with a small smile, again struggling with the emotions that were created when someone was so nice to her. "You didn't need to do this."
He gently raised his hand. "As I told you before, Hermione, I am merely showing you the respect you deserve."
Her throat constricted with gratitude and she smiled. "Thank you."
He nodded. "If you have any further side-effects from the curse, Tonks is now your first port of call in the Ministry," he informed, turning to his colleague.
Tonks grinned at her. "Sorry about that," she teased and then became more serious, maybe sensing that the younger woman needed reassurance. "I've got your back, Hermione, I promise."
Hermione couldn't deny that it was a blow to lose Kingsley's reassuring support but Tonks was a more than adequate replacement. The metamorphagus might not have the wealth of experience of someone like Moody, or the calming presence of Kingsley, but Hermione held Tonks in very high esteem too.
Hermione was aware just how good your exam results needed to be to even be accepted on the auror training program and it was even more difficult to qualify from it. Tonks might be clumsy and light-hearted but she was still a highly competent witch and Hermione knew she could trust her. It certainly helped that the two young women already had a good personal relationship with Hermione viewing Tonks as something like a big sister rather than the more reserved relationships she had with some of the other Order members. And if anyone was going to respect Hermione's wish to be treated like the young adult that she was, it was Tonks.
Hermione put a grateful hand on Tonks' upper arm. "Thank you," she said earnestly. "I trust you."
Tonks pulled her into a hug and Hermione reciprocated the embrace. When they pulled apart, Hermione noticed that Kingsley looked pleased with the interaction.
"Now that we all know where we stand, I will take my leave," he said and then grimaced slightly. "I've got a lot of reading to do over the next thirty-six hours on the state of muggle politics so that I don't stick out like a dragon in a dancehall. But, before I do…" He paused and reached inside the pocket of his robes and pulled out a small pile of items. "I thought you might be able to make use of these." He pointed his wand at the items in his hand and enlarged them before handing them over to Hermione.
She accepted the assortment curiously and quickly saw that the items included a number of muggle books to aid in the process of learning Russian. There were also cassette tapes and CDs to learn the language too, as well as the matching devices to play the audio aides. She stared at the gifts, struck dumb that he would have thought to venture into the muggle world to procure the language materials for her and she wondered if Professor Dumbledore had asked him to do so.
The headmaster had been in the Entrance Hall to meet with her when Kingsley had escorted her back to the castle the previous day. She'd expressed her hope that he hadn't been waiting long for her but he claimed that her arrival had coincided perfectly with his desire to check the contents of the house hourglasses before that evening's Leaving Feast. However, the return of the twinkle to his eye told her not to take him seriously and she felt a rush of warmth that he had been looking out for her. Once they had all been ensconced in his office, Hermione had informed Professor Dumbledore in as steady a voice as she could manage of Dolohov's views of the curse and handed him the copy of the notebook that could hold the secret to curing her. She'd watched his face grow troubled as he leafed through the pages, confessing that he didn't speak Russian and, consequently, that the notes made almost no sense to him. Hermione had struggled to hide her disappointment at that admission, and it appeared that either Dumbledore had turned to Kingsley or the auror had noticed the devastated look on her face and decided to help of his own accord. Whatever the truth, Hermione felt a swell of emotion at the gifts.
"I would advise you not to play the cassettes or CDs inside the Burrow," Kingsley advised her as she continued to stare at the items in her hands. "Not only would the magic in the building be too interfering but if you left them lying around, I have no doubt that Arthur would accidentally break them within seconds!"
And, in the days since, Hermione was barely seen without one of her Russian books in her grasp. It was slow-going but she kept having to remind herself that she was attempting to learn a whole other language – something she'd never attempted before – and, not only that, but it used a different alphabet, too.
Hermione had heeded Kingsley's advice and only used the audio materials after walking a few minutes away from the Burrow. She would spend hours in the summer sun listening and repeating the difficult language to herself in the Weasley's orchard as Ron and Ginny practised their Quidditch skills around her.
Each day that passed, the incessant anxiety that clawed at her stomach and the tension that settled in her shoulders lessened slightly, because she had yet to experience any more side-effects from the curse. When she woke up each morning on her bed in Ginny's room, she let out a breath of relief that she hadn't slipped into another trance.
She knew she was still closely watched by everyone, of course, but she could feel the general mood around the Burrow lift when they saw that she was all right. Only Crookshanks still seemed utterly convinced that there was something different about her. Her intelligent cat had refused to come near Hermione ever since her return from the Department of Mysteries and no amount of fish could bribe the fluffy pet to do otherwise. Crookshanks was happy to chase garden gnomes and nap during the day, and settle in the lap of a Weasley in the evening, so Hermione left him be, even though the rejection still stung.
When she took a break from Russian, Ancient Runes and Arithmancy, Hermione would study the news in the Daily Prophet closely. After their highly-biased reporting last year, she viewed the paper's articles sceptically. In the last few days there had been repeated calls for Fudge to resign and Mr Weasley had confided in her at dinner recently that he expected it wouldn't be long until the Minister stepped aside. Given Fudge's incompetence over the last year, Hermione thought that it was probably for the best; she certainly didn't have any confidence in Fudge's ability to stop Voldemort.
Hermione looked up from her arithmancy book in surprise as Ginny threw open the door to their bedroom with a hearty scowl on her face. "They're here," she muttered darkly as she flopped onto the bed next to her. Hermione needed no further explanation of who 'they' were because Ginny had been moaning about the impending arrival of Bill and Fleur all day. "Mum says we all need to come down for dinner now."
Hermione raised her eyebrow at her friend's obvious lack of intention to move from her slumped position and closed her book, carefully making a mental note of the page she was on. "Well, you stay here if you want but I'm not prepared to upset your mother when she'll be trying her best to impress Fleur."
Hermione got to her feet and Ginny made a disgruntled noise before doing likewise. "Fine," she muttered.
Before exiting the room, Hermione considered grabbing a light jacket to slip over her summer dress but quickly dismissed the idea. She was already warm enough and she always felt overheated in the kitchen during dinnertime.
There was a distinctly awkward air to the atmosphere when Hermione and Ginny descended the stairs. Mrs Weasley was rushing about and talking even more than normal, no doubt to hide her insecurities in front of Bill's fiancée. Fleur, herself, was smiling demurely as she watched her mother-in-law-to-be fuss all around her. Mr Weasley and Bill were talking by the table, looking the most comfortable out of the room's occupants and Hermione was annoyed to see that Ron was standing in the middle of the kitchen with his eyes completely fixed on Fleur. Ginny purposefully barged into him as she went past, loudly announcing that she'd brought Hermione with her.
Ron suddenly jerked and then shook his head as though he was coming back to his senses. Hermione discretely rolled her eyes behind his back; he'd always been hopeless around Fleur during their fourth year at school.
Bill called out a friendly greeting to her, which she returned, before offering him her congratulations on his engagement. Hermione could feel Fleur's gaze on their interaction and she glanced over at the other woman and saw a curious expression on her face. She wondered if it was because Fleur remembered that Hermione had been Viktor's date to the Yule Ball, or that she was friends with Harry or had Bill told her about the curse she'd been struck with?
Hermione returned her gaze to Bill as he thanked her then said, "I hear that there have been no more problems with the curse."
Hermione nodded, trying not to let her tentative hopes soar too high. "So far," she agreed.
"That's really good news, Hermione," he said.
Mrs Weasley suddenly appeared at their sides with a tray topped with glasses of sparkling wine. "I know you're not of age, dear," she said to Hermione, "but a little won't hurt and we are celebrating, aren't we?"
"Er, yes, I suppose, thank you," she spluttered in surprise. Bill picked up two glasses from the tray and held one out to her.
Their fingers grazed against each other's around the thin stem of the glass and Hermione withdrew her hand at once.
She gasped.
The glass fell and smashed loudly against the floor, attracting everyone's attention.
Hermione clutched her fingers against her chest, eyes wide and heart pounding.
No.
Mrs Weasley and Bill took steps towards her in concern but she flinched away from them.
The matriarch's gaze became even more concerned. "Hermione, what – what happened? Is it… Your hand, did it…"
Hermione closed her eyes to stem an onslaught of tears, her body trembling with the panic and dread that swept through her. Her stomach clenched violently and she had to fight back the overwhelming urge to throw up.
"Hermione, you need to tell us what happened." Mr Weasley's voice was still warm but the firmness in it brooked no argument.
Tears leaked through her closed eyes as her body told her how hopeless it was to deny the truth, to contain what couldn't be held back. It took all her strength just to make herself breathe.
"They burned," she admitted, but did it so quietly that she doubted any of them heard her. She tried again, her heart breaking and her hopes shattering with every word she said. "When my fingers touched Bill's, they burned…"
A/N: Not exactly a surprise twist there if you read the summary, but I think we can all appreciate how devastating that development is for Hermione. Apologies for the lack of Antonin in this chapter but we have to do a bit of laying down the groundwork before the story moves forwards. He's definitely in the next one!
This chapter ended up being far longer than I was anticipating but I doubt there's any complaints about that!
Let me know what you thought of the chapter and hopefully it won't be long until I update again.
Love,
Red
P.S. Happy Holidays!