Dragon's Chess was not brutal. It was warfare. Bloody, merciless wartime on a board of sixty-four red and white squares and thirty-two dragon pieces. Whereas in Wizard's Chess pieces of the opposition would be smashed to smithereens, in Dragon's Chess they would be set aflame until molten and everything around them tainted black with soot or hacked into by sharp canines. Hermione had had to learn rather quickly the different species of dragons that had replaced the classic distinctions. Such as the Chinese Fireballs replaced the pawns, the Ukrainian Ironbelly replaced the king and the Hungarian Horntail replaced the queen. And it was safe to say, that by the end of the game Hermione was confident enough to say that she could go a lifetime never encountering any of these dragons. They were nothing like Hagrid's Norbert.
Hermione looked from the destruction up to Charlie's face with a sense of newfound admiration.
"You work with all these species?" She asked in amazement.
Charlie gave one of his famous grins and a curt nod. He then pulled on his collar to give light to a scar Hermione had not seen before.
"This one was from a Peruvian Vipertooth—nasty business because their teeth are venomous you see. So I'm now blessed with the scar forever." He explained.
Hermione shared his chuckle then touched her left cheek.
"I also have—" she momentarily paused and a frown flickered across her face when her fingertips only felt smooth skin. "I mean, I used to have a scar too—although nothing compared to the selection you have, of course."
Harry, who had been watching the whole game from one of the armchairs, as if an umpire, sat up and interjected.
"Since when?" He asked frowning.
Hermione turned to him and suddenly felt very silly for bringing it up in the first place. Nothing could remotely compare to the venomous fangs of a dragon. Her eyes flicked down to the blackened chess board covered in rubble and melted chess pieces as she quickly came up with something. She distinctly remembered having a scar, but she could not remember how she had got it or why it was no longer on her cheek.
"Well, I was quite young," she began. "So I don't fully remember—but I think it was from surgery."
Opposite her Charlie gave a soft frown.
"Surgery?" He echoed.
"Yes, a mole—I believe. The doctors must have thought it best to remove it, lest it became cancerous." Hermione explained shortly.
Charlie's frown deepened and from behind her, where she had not noticed Mr Weasley's attendance, Arthur Weasley stepped forward and took a seat beside her on the sofa.
"Remove it you say?" He asked. "But how? Why? And what does canceruss mean? This is very interesting stuff—I never get to deal with the healing practices of Muggles, you see."
"Oh," Hermione said, feeling slightly overwhelmed by all the sudden attention she was receiving. "Um, well, Mr Weasley—"
"Arthur, please—you've been round for tea just as much as Harry has, I think it's safe to say you're a family friend Hermione." Mr Weasley said kindly.
Hermione felt her cheeks warm and her gaze flicked from Ron's father to his brother, then to Harry.
"Alright, Arthur. Well, cancer in the Muggle world is a disease." She began.
"A dezeeze? Hm, fascinating—tell me more." Mr Weasley said quite seriously.
"Um, it's a disease made up of abnormal cell growth—like a mole. And if and when a specific growth—on the skin, or literally anywhere else on the body—becomes cancerous, treatment is needed." Hermione explained—as best and as simply as she could.
Mr Weasley's eyes were narrow and intense on her as she could see the cogs turning in his head.
"And you had this abnormal growth on your skin?" He asked.
"Yes—but it wasn't cancerous," she quickly explained, wishing she had never brought the subject up in the first place. "They cut out my mole as a precaution."
"Cut it out?" Both Mr Weasley and Charlie exclaimed simultaneously.
Flustered Hermione turned to Harry for help, but her friend was quite unhelpful as he held a fist clamped over his mouth restraining his laughter. She narrowed her eyes at him. He just continued trembling with laughter as he remained in his armchair with no intentions of saving her from herself.
"Yes," Hermione said to the two Weasleys. "I assure you it wasn't painful. To perform surgery doctors use a scalpel—a very sharp, small blade—to cut open the skin." Hermione explained.
Harry's hand must of slipped from his mouth because then his laughter broke free as the looks on Arthur and Charlie's faces grew ever the more concerned and bewildered.
"That sounds dreadfully painful…" Mr Weasley breathed.
"I concur," Charlie agreed just as flabbergasted. "I think I prefer dragon teeth."
"Oh—no. I forgot to mention—you don't feel anything, of course. They use local anaesthesia to numb the area when its a small surgery, and if it's something more serious they use general anaesthesia to put you to sleep—which is what I had." Hermione explained. "I woke up after surgery with no memory of it."
"Oh," Mr Weasley exclaimed with a pent up breath and great relief. "I think I should always go for the general anna's thesis if I were a Muggle. Awake whilst being mutilated? No, thank—"
"Awake whilst being mutilated? What on Merlin's green earth are you talking about?" Mrs Weasley asked coming in from the kitchen with a dirty apron on.
She wiped her hands on it and gave a displeased look over to her husband.
"Oh, Molly, dear, Hermione was just explaining to us what Muggle sur-jerry is—fascinating stuff, I must say." Mr Weasley explained.
"Sounds more like morbid stuff if you ask me—it would put me right off my food—and yours too. Now, I hope you haven't all lost your appetites—dinner's ready." Mrs Weasley said before disappearing back into the kitchen. "We're eating outside! Help the others lay the table—thank you!"
They all then shared one final look at each other before following Mrs Weasley's orders and evacuating the living room to go and assist with the final preparations for dinner.
Hermione and Harry walked out into the garden to find Ron and Maddy closely side by side as Ron pointed over to a couple of boisterous gnomes and explained something to her. Hermione gave her best friend beside her the side eye as they strolled up to the table with a stack of plates in both their hands.
"You could have helped a witch out—before." She said.
She then fought off her own smile as Harry broke out with a laughter she had not heard since probably fourth year. Since before he had been kidnapped, along with Cedric Diggory, mid Quidditch game to have Voldemort steal his blood so he could return once again.
"I couldn't help it Hermy," he said laughing. "You just looked so—and the other's—" Harry had to break off as he laughed. "It was hilarious. I don't think I've ever seen Charlie so taken aback by—anything."
He then turned to face Hermione and his laughter gently died upon his lips as he met her soft gaze. There was a tender moment's silence as the golden sun sparkled in his vibrant eyes.
"I missed you," he murmured.
Hermione's cheeks flushed and she looked away bashfully.
"And I'm sorry I—" he began.
"No." Hermione said quickly, snapping her head back to him.
She eyed those closest to them and tried to pretend that Harry and her were not having a serious conversation—nor about to.
"Not here—later." She whispered.
She watched as Harry's lips formed a smile. A smile which carefully curled in the corner with an unspoken promise that made Hermione blush again. She averted her gaze and decided it was prudent for her to go to the other end of the table to begin laying it for dinner. When she peaked a quick glance back Harry's way, however, he was placing the plates down on the table with a smile on his face. One that was more smirk than smile. Hermione's own lips mirrored his.
As per usual, Mrs Weasley was the last to take her seat. Everyone else—all the Weasleys apart from Percy—Hermione and her sister and Fleur were already seated. Percy was in a flat in London somewhere, he had been since walking out on the family in the summer of 1995. Only Mr Weasley had spoken to him since—whenever work demanded it.
Unsurprisingly, Ron had chosen to seat himself beside Maddy. The two of them sat opposite Hermione and Harry. Hermione had never seen Ron so uncharacteristically smitten so fast. It was hard not to stare. Even Mrs Weasley eyed the pair from time to time. Though unlike her typical inconspicuous and judgmental glances toward Hermione, her eyes were warm with a faint smile upon her lips at the sight of the two. Especially at Maddy. Hermione tried to ignore this—even if the matter was so glaringly obvious.
She made a mental note to talk to Ron in private about Maddy. Ron was her best friend, she had heard all the countless shit talk that had come out of his mouth over the years. She knew how his mind worked. And she would not allow any of his silly business with her sister.
Dinner was roast lemon and thyme chicken—or rather, two chickens—with garlic butter, fluffy potatoes and a garden salad with chopped fennel and baby tomatoes. Conversation was steady and pleasant. Again, the Weasleys asked if by any chance Maddy was American or Canadian. At Maddy's nervous looks to her Hermione had had to repeatedly insist that she was not, and it was just the way she had learnt English when back in her home country. She explained that Muggle T.V. had quite a few American shows of which Maddy had learnt her accent from.
Fleur, to Ginny's dismay, went on and on about Beauxbatons. About how Drama and Etiquette were core classes for lower years and how they had wood nymphs to serenade them at every mealtime, and ice sculptures, that never melted, at every Christmastime. And she let no one forget nor underestimate just how divine the food at the school is. She also explained how, unlike at Hogwarts, Beauxbatons has three houses. She, herself, was from Bellefeuille and her sister, Gabrielle, is in Papillonlisse—currently in her second year.
By dessert, ice cream and apple turnovers, Hermione's and Harry's hands had brushed so many times under the table it was a miracle they were not holding hands. Their legs below them, covered by the red and white gingham table cloth, had remained touching all throughout the meal. They would not indulge their eyes in the innocent dance of flirtations however. Why? Because that would have quite pointedly have given them away.
"Oh, Hermione," began Mr Weasley, suddenly out of the blue. "I take it you too received the letter about the Triwizard Tournament and the Potions Championship?"
Taken by the sudden inclusion in the main conversation of the table. Hermione quickly downed her fizzy gulp of Dandelion Dash and sent some going down the wrong pipe. She quickly and harshly coughed and cleared her throat before replying.
"Yes," she croaked like a bullfrog.
She cleared her throat once again. Ron caught her eye as he held a fist to his smirking lips, a shameless habit both he and Harry shared. She gave him a warning side glance.
"Well, have you chosen which one you'll be entering?" He asked, as if it were an obvious question.
"Oh," Hermione began.
Now all attention was on her. The weight of everyone's gaze was quite heavy.
"Actually—" She said but could not finish.
"She'll be entering the potions one." Maddy interjected.
Hermione snapped her gaze to her sister. She gave her a What-are-you-doing? look.
"Oh, fantastic—I expected no less." Mr Weasley nodded approvingly.
"Oh, no, Mr Weasley—Maddy's mistaken, I won't be going." Hermione corrected.
She met Mr Weasley's concerned frown.
"What?" He exclaimed.
In unison the twins remarked, "You're joking Herp—Hermione." "You can't be serious—have you lost your Gobstones?"
"Exactly my thoughts—that's what I'd told her." Ron jumped in.
"You know wh—" Hermione began, giving her best friend a hard look.
"I did tell her she should—maybe you guys can convince her." Maddy interrupted.
"Maddy—" Again, Hermione was cut off.
"Are you seriously not entering? You'd win with your eyes closed, Hermy." Harry said to her softly, as if he too were concerned.
"Exactly what I told her!" Ron exclaimed again.
"I can't." Hermione finally said. Maybe a little too loudly as Fleur flinched.
"Why ever not? I'm applying for the exchange programme to Beauxbatons—if I can you most definitely can apply to the Potions Championship." Ginny said.
Ginny, who rarely ever interacted let alone spoke to Hermione. Even if every time Hermione stayed over she had to share the girl's bedroom.
"Well—b-because—I can't leave Maddy." She said taken aback by Ginny's indirect compliment. "Not after everything she's been through."
Finally, that shut everyone up. Face by face they all averted their gaze from her with some form of slight embarrassment. Maddy, of course, just continued smiling sweetly. Unfazed by her recent past trauma unlike everyone else.
"Oh, yes—of course." Mr Weasley said quickly and apologetically.
Mrs Weasley, the only one whose face did not shy away from Hermione's or Maddy's, looked directly at Hermione and gave a curt nod.
"Rightly, so," she said. "It's what every good sister would do, well done, Hermione, dear."
Hermione tried not to react to the one and only compliment she had ever heard Mrs Weasley give her. It was a hard feat.
"Um, no mum." Ron butted in with a face that was not angry but certainly not impressed. "Maddy herself say's she can go. And you know Hermione—she's a fucking genius."
"Language—Ron." Frowned Mr Weasley.
"Family comes first." Mrs Weasley said, looking at her youngest son with a face that effectively silenced him. A face that said unlike-your-brother-Percy-who-chose-his-career-and-station-at-the-Ministry-over-his-family.
And it was not just Ron who read the look on his mother's face. Everyone else did too. Apart from Maddy. To break the awkward, tense silence that had suddenly fallen upon the fine summer's alfresco dinner table Hermione softly cleared her throat.
"Dinner was lovely Mrs Weasley, thank you. Your apple turnovers are divine." She said, paying a compliment with a compliment.
Surprisingly, she smiled at Hermione, possibly due to her newfound respect for her.
"Thank you, dear. Family recipe. I made the puff pastry myself—the secret is a pinch of allspice alongside the cinnamon, brown sugar instead of white, and a dash of Bungbarrel Spiced Mead." She said.
Hermione smiled appreciatively and nodded politely. "Divine."
"Divine?" Ron said. "Divine?" He repeated. "Since when—on Merlin's green earth—have apple turnovers ever been divine?"
Hermione shot a glare down to her best friend as the four of them ascended the stairs towards his room.
"Well, they were pretty fucking good, Weasel." She said.
"Yea, but not fucking divine Herpes." He rebutted.
Hermione just rolled her eyes as she opened the door to Ron's loft bedroom. Pig whizzed past her, Harry and Ron to Maddy. Hedwig was nowhere to be found as her cage was empty. Hermione surmised that she had probably decided to be far, far away from Pig. Without asking for permission Hermione jumped onto the bed Harry was sleeping on and lay down. Harry came and sat down by her legs as she crossed them over to make space for him. Even with her eyes closed, as she rested for a moment, she could feel Harry's gaze on her.
"What?" She asked impolitely.
"What's the real reason?" He asked.
Hermione already knew what he was asking about. They had been best friends long enough for the two of them to be able to jump in and out of conversations. Hermione opened her eyes and came up onto her elbows.
"That is the real reason." She said with her brows furrowing angrily.
"I still think it's a bad idea not to—you'd be missing out." Maddy said, walking up to the pair of them with Pig.
At the sight of her with Pig on her shoulder and Ron closely behind her—too close—Hermione could not help but feel a little resentful toward her sister who had only just met the Weasleys, but seemed to have been already adopted into their family too.
"Madds—this is not up for discussion." Hermione said shortly, flopping her head back down onto Harry's bed.
"Too bad—I'm sending the Ministry a letter myself to get you a travel permit for Japan." Ron said, crossing his arms over his chest argumentatively.
"Weasel. You can't do that." Hermione said plainly, and with boredom as if he were dimwitted.
He just shrugged his shoulders in response and said, "I'll get dad to do it—in the real world, it's not what you know, it's who you know, Herpes."
Hermione sighed and crossed her legs as she sat up on the bed.
"You're being insufferable." She remarked truthfully.
"And you're being—never thought I'd see the day that I'd say this but—stupid." He said.
"Dick." Hermione said crossing her own arms over her chest.
"Erm, guys—i-it's not that serious." Maddy said gently with great concern for the sudden coarse turn of language.
"It's alright Maddy—they do this sometimes." Harry reassured her with one of his kind smiles.
Maddy tried to take his word for it but struggled to look convinced.
"Twat." Ron shot back.
"Erumpentshit." Hermione said.
"Dragonshit." Ron said. Then he quirked a brow upwards as he said, "I think your cauldron's boiling over Herpes."
"I think you're seeing thestrals Weasel." Hermione shot back sassily.
"You know, a lot of the times you can be as cold as a witches tit in a brass bra."
"Yes, but what you don't know will kill you one day you wanking-troll brain."
"Bitch."
"Witch—actually. Cunt."
"I'm not the one with a cunt."
"No, but I know you wished you were—maybe that way you could locate a clit."
Silence fell as their hard glares at one another crackled with challenging tension. Maddy looked nervously between the two of them. Harry, on the other hand, gave an exhale as he leaned against the wall behind him.
Finally, Ron said, "Not bad Herpes, I taught you well."
"Don't worry, one day the student will surpass the master." Hermione said with a lopsided smirk.
"Love you." Ron said.
"Love you too." Hermione said as she laid back down on Harry's bed.
As she did she caught Harry's gaze and his shaking head. You-guys-are-unbelivable he said.
"Oh, shush—I've always wanted a brother." Hermione said. "Now I have a brother and a sister."
"Yea, a handsome brother, a beautiful sister, but unfortunately a—wait." Ron said. Looking around the room for something. "Where's Crookshanks?"
"It took you this long to realise? Merlin help you and your limited edition braincells—I hope they're not contagious." Hermione said.
"Yeah, yeah—but no, seriously, where is that hideous fur ball?" Ron asked.
"Actually, that's a fair question—you never go anywhere without him." Harry joined in.
Hermione looked to the both of them. "Apparently your braincells are contagious Weasel—it seriously took the both of you that long to realise that I was missing a half-Kneazle cat? No wonder you're not Ravenclaws… Gryffindors."
"You have a cat?" Maddy asked.
All three of them turned to look at her as she scratched Pig's head.
"What?" Ron exclaimed. "You didn't know that your own sister owns the ugliest cat to ever roam this planet?"
"Ron!" Hermione said.
"It's true—you're just in denial." He said.
Hermione frowned at him then turned to Maddy.
"Yes, I have a cat called Crookshanks—and he's the most handsome being on this entire planet." Hermione said. "He's with mum and dad in New Zealand. They left before you got to the UK."
"Oh," Maddy exclaimed softly.
"Why's he with your parents? Aren't they celebrating their 20th?" Harry asked.
Hermione shrugged. "Yes. So?"
"Well, that's a bit odd Herpes." Ron began. "He's yours. I mean I don't know about you lot but having a pet around whilst shagg—"
"Thank you—Ron. Merlin. You're an absolute firecracker this evening." Hermione said. "If only you put this much energy into your increasing your IQ…"
"What the fuck is an I Q?" Ron asked.
"Something you don't have." Was all Hermione said before turning to Harry. "I don't know, my parents wanted to take him—maybe they thought it would be best for Maddy, you know. Maybe they thought it would be too much for me to take care of both Maddy and Crooks."
Hermione saw a soft frown form on Harry's face. She could tell he had something to say. Something that was most likely judgemental and not entirely positive. Though as Harry usually did, he did not let on. Ron, on the other hand, had no filter.
"Well, that's a bit weird innit?" He remarked.
"What?" Hermione asked frowning.
"Your parents disappear with your cat straight after adopting your cousin who's just lost her parents and expect you to be her sole carer? You might be a smart biscuit but you must agree you're a bit young to be a mum and all." Ron said with no shame.
Simultaneously, Hermione and Maddy exclaimed, "I'm not her mum." "She's not my mum."
"Right. And I'm not ginger." Ron said sarcastically. "Why are you acting like one then? It's why you're not going to Japan to knock some potions snorting dicks on their arses."
"Oh, Jesus," Hermione exclaimed. "Not this again."
"All I'm saying," Ron reiterated. "Is it's a bit fucking weird."
"Ron—mate—they booked this holiday years in advance and it was all for a very pretty penny so I can't blame them for not cancelling last minute." Hermione protested. "Plus, they deserve it."
There was a moment's silence where they all stared at Hermione. Clearly judging her.
"Isn't that the whole point of being a parent?" Ron asked. "Sacrifice?"
"Alright," Hermione said getting up off the bed. "I've grown tired of this conversation—I'll be outside if you lot want to change the subject."
And with that Hermione left before any of them could so much as protest and made her way back down the rickety, rackety stairs of the Burrow.
Once she was outside and the night's summer's air hit her lungs she closed her eyes appreciatively, inhaling it all in. The aroma of blossoms and grass that had been burnt by the summer's sun all day was especially sweet. It was wonderful. On her exhale she ventured further out into the field. A soft breeze bristled through the tall grass peppered with the soft beads of light from glow-worms. Hermione just stood and watched. Until she summoned her wand from Ginny's room. It flew out from the window left ajar, currently blasting out the Weird Sister's latest hit, and landed on her beckoning hand. A few flicks of her wand and Hermione had glow-worms dancing in the night air like fairies.
As she made the meadow beetles fly and twirl subserviently she wondered if Harry and Ron were right. If it was wrong of her parents to leave her alone to care for Maddy. Maddy, who had lost everything and needed all the help she could get.
It does seem a bit out of character… She thought.
They've never left for so long—let alone after a family tragedy.
Hermione frowned at the beautiful spiral of luminous glow-worms. She remembered the moment she and Maddy had left home. The moment where she had hesitated before closing the door. The moment when she had felt an inexplicable feeling of absence. Of dejection. Of longing. Her parents had only been away for a month or so, and yet, it felt like they had been gone for years. It almost—dare Hermione think it—felt like she would never see them again. Or Crookshanks.
Hermione released the glow-worms and gently settled them back onto the stirring grass. Her frown had not softened. Actually, it had grown harder. The creases upon her brow were deep and pensive. And before she knew it—without any explanation—hot, salty tears were slipping from her eyes and down her cheeks to her lips.
Thankfully, the others never came back down to seek her.