Penance

Hermione woke quickly. She didn’t have to look around and wonder where she was and why. For the first time in a long time she knew she was home, doing as she should. The small room Mrs. Weasley had made her stay in was tidy and cozy, just like the woman herself. The flowered bedspread made her think of the soft bed her mother had kept “just in case guests decided to stop by”. Hermione had always thought it silly that her mom made her wash the sheets in that spare bedroom every other week. When she had brought it up to her mother that no one had ever stopped by unexpectedly she had just smiled in her loving way and said, “Well, you never know.”

She rolled into a sitting position and placed her bare feet on the cold floor. She looked to the foot of her bed where Mrs. Weasley had obviously snuck in early in the morning and laid out some of Ginny’s old clothes that she no longer fit in. Hermione shook her head at the fact that she was going to be wearing her younger friend’s hand-me-downs. She had always hoped to get her father’s height but it was not meant to be, she was stuck with her mother at the 5’4 level. Slipping into the worn jeans and white and yellow striped tank top she pulled on the dark blue jacket, zipping it halfway and slipping into her tennis shoes which also looked as if they had been washed. She looked at the nightstand and her stomach flipped. Her wand lay there, waiting for her to use it. Hesitantly, she picked it up and tried the spell Malfoy had told her quietly. Nothing. She couldn’t summon a thing. She remembered doing so on a number of occasions, even teaching Harry how to do it flawlessly before his first task in the Triwizard Tournament. So why couldn’t she do it now? And had she not been the first person to make something float in her Charms class? What was wrong with her?

You’ll figure it out, you always figure it out. You’re just stressed; didn’t you read something about that yesterday? Stress can take a toll on your magic. You just need to relax.

Easier said than done. Knowing she had an appointment with the Minister, she ran downstairs and greeted Mrs. Weasley warmly with a large hug.

“Thank you so much, Mrs. Weasley. I feel loads better,” she smiled at the older woman. She really did. Her knee no longer ached, the bruised rib Mulciber had given her had been patched, her face back to its original size if not fully its original color. Mrs. Weasley looked her over, scrutinizing.

“You do have some more color, but you’re too thin. Come, sit. You will have a hearty breakfast before you go speak with the Minister.”

Grinning, she took a seat next to Mr. Weasley who had been nearly as emotional as Mrs. Weasley when she had shown up last night. The thinning, red haired man put an arm around her and kept her there. She rested her head on his shoulder and the smile would not wash off for the world. She was so content, finally. If only she had realized her mistake sooner.

She looked up when someone flooed out of the fireplace.

“Morning. Merlin, last night was awful. Someone decided they were going to hold an all night bash right in front of the store and-,” George Weasley looked up from the tie he was trying to fold into place and stopped mid-step, his jaw slack, eyes wide.

“What the-Hermione?”

She nodded, the grin starting to make her cheeks hurt. Jumping from her chair she gave him a huge hug and he spun her around, laughing. Setting her back on her feet he looked her over as Mrs. Weasley had.

“Merlin, I didn’t think I’d ever see you again! Where have you been? Are you alright? When did you get back? Does Ginny know?”

“Alright, alright, slow down!” she chuckled. “I’ve been in the States, I’m fine, I got back yesterday and yes, Ginny knows although she’s not too happy about it.”

“Not too happy? She should be ecstatic! She missed you so much, why would she not be happy?”

Hermione turned to Mrs. Weasley for help, not wanting to have to repeat herself.

“George, dear, leave the poor girl alone, stop pestering her! Now come sit, I’ll have breakfast done in just a minute and we can discuss it when your brothers get here.”

“Brothers?” Hermione and George said at the same time.

“Yes, I’ve invited them all for breakfast.”

“And here I thought I was special, being invited by my own mother to dine with her. Now I know I’m just another pawn,” George said with a wink at her.

“But a very good looking pawn,” Mrs. Weasley said, pinching his cheek before leaning up and kissing it. She fixed his tie in record time then pushed him down into a chair where he started drilling Hermione about the States.

Basically the same thing happened when the other boys arrived. They would be shocked, pick her up in a huge hug and bombard her with questions. She didn’t mind, she’d had no idea they had all cared so much. Looking at them all made her heart heavy, however. They were all supposed to have been her family but the one person who would have made it so was not present. Their red hair, freckles and smiles made her miss Ron so much more. When Mrs. Weasley put the food down they all dug in. Hermione had not had so much food in one sitting since the last Weasley feast. There was laughter and jokes, bawdy humor and Percy got made fun of a lot. Nothing had changed.

When she finished, Mrs. Weasley pushed her towards the fireplace, telling her she would be late for the meeting with Kingsley. Before she could step foot in, however, she was attacked by red-haired men and laughing, she gave them all one last hug before jumping into the fire.

She was in a very good mood when she stepped out of one of the many fireplaces lined up along the walls in the Ministry.

“Hermione, wait. I’ll take you up,” Mr. Weasley said from behind her, taking her elbow and directing her through the sea of people.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she protested.

“You’ll be recognized. No one but us knows you’re back. Keep your head down, maybe we can get through this without too much of a-,”

“Miss Granger?”

“-bother,” he sighed. They both cringed as the worst person to be spotted by stopped them and smiled broadly.

“Lovely! My dear, this is quite a surprise!” Rita Skeeter, the horror of the wizarding world dug around in her tacky crocodile handbag producing a quill and spare parchment. “Come back from the dead, have we? Now, tell me everything-,”

“Excuse me, but she has a meeting to attend,” Mr. Weasley said, pushing the witch aside and hurrying to the elevators at the far end as Rita screamed for “Marty”. Flashes of light went off; blinding Hermione as Mr. Weasley dragged her forward. He skipped the visitor’s station with a nod to a portly employee and tugged her into an empty one. He almost sighed with relief but someone squeezed their way into the booth with them.

“Arthur,” he nodded, panting. He gave Hermione a quick cursory glance before turning away. His head snapped back and his eyes bugged.

“Are you…? You look awfully like…Hermione Granger…”

“I am,” she said, dreading the reaction. She was not disappointed. The man fainted dead away.

“Miles. He always was one for theatrics. He does that a lot. Give him a moment, he’ll be alright,” Mr. Weasley said when she started forward, worried. She watched as he started then stood. The door opened and a cool woman’s voice told them they were at the Department of Magical Transportation.

“That’s you, Miles. Have a good day,” Mr. Weasley urged the man out and they were thankfully not bothered until they reached the Minister’s office.

“Miss Granger! It’s so good to have you back!” the woman at the desk said with a smile. Obviously Kingsley had already talked to her so she didn’t do as Miles had. “I’ll let the Minister know you’re here.”

“Thank you,” Hermione replied. She sat on a chair supplied for people to wait on. Mr. Weasley plopped onto one beside her, his eyes glued to the door as if daring anyone to enter and hassle her. When Kingsley came out of the office and greeted them they both sagged with relief.

“Arthur! Good to see you! Care to join us for a cup of tea?”

“No, thank you Kingsley. I have a meeting with the board. Just came to drop off Hermione. Be warned, Rita got her hands on her,” Arthur said.

“Oh, no,” the big man groaned. “I don’t know why I keep that woman on. Pain in my arse. Well,” he sighed. “The world was going to find out one way or another. I’ll have Gregory send out an announcement and hope it hits the papers before that toad’s.”

“Thanks,” Arthur said, turning towards the door. “Oh, Hermione! Percy will pick you up when you’re ready. He should be at work soon,” Mr. Weasley said, glancing at his watch. “I’m afraid I’m all booked up until this evening…”

“It’s alright, Mr. Weasley, I’ll be just fine one my own,” Hermione calmed him.

“No, no. He’ll be here. See you soon then,” and he was off running.

Kingsley chuckled. “Arthur, he’s always in a rush. Well, come in, come in. Tea?”

“That would be lovely,” Hermione replied. A cup appeared on the desk as she sat in a chair and swore she caught a whiff of Malfoy. Shaking her overwrought brain she took the tea and sipped.

“Now, we have some things we need to catch up on. Has Draco talked to you of the latest progress?” Kinsgley started, lifting his own tea to his large lips.

Her heart sank, as it always did when she thought of it. “About Harry?” she said softly.

“Yes. What do you know?”

“Just what he’s told me. Malfoy said you guys had found a place where the Death Eaters were keeping prisoners. He said he had been carrying a boy and had run into a cell…that Harry was in it…”

“Is that all?”

“He said you guys had tried to get back but that the guards had prevented entrance,” she finished.

“Did he tell you he was severely injured while trying to free Harry?”

Hermione’s head snapped up. “No, he didn’t say anything!”

“Of course not, he’s not that kind. Likes to keep to himself. I respect that, admire it, but sometimes he goes too far. Closed in, almost. Yes, he was caught by a couple of Death Eaters trying to free Harry. One of them was his aunt, Bellatrix Lestrange. Or, I suppose it’s Malfoy now, isn’t it?” he said scathingly.

“Malfoy? What are you saying?”

Kingsley leaned against the desk. “After you left, not too long after as it goes, Lucius rose up. We were unprepared, looking for you, grieving. We never saw a thing. Draco had come to me the day after the Battle, said he would assist in any way he could. I took his help, remembering Dumbledor’s last wishes. He was the one who warned us. We would have been demolished, but he helped us hide our injured, gather our strong. We were able to meet the battle force head on, even take some out. Lucius nearly killed Draco that day, I had to step in. Lucius proclaimed himself the next Dark Lord and slaughtered his wife, right in front of Draco. He performed some spell, drank her blood, took Bellatrix as a new wife, ‘the Lady of the Dark’, he called her. Everything after that is a blur. This bright light took us all out and when I woke, I just dragged everyone the hell out of there. We lost many that day and the next was spent on making the Den, rebuilding our forces. I was Minister now, so the Ministry was safely in our control. I weeded out anyone who had been a part of the insurrection, enforced our Auror department. By the time we were organized, the Death Eaters had already wrecked havoc on the wizarding community. They were slaughtering muggle-borns, half-breeds, anyone who was different. We built up safe houses all over, Hogwarts is one. I put McGonagall in charge of operations there. Every day St. Mungo’s is full, we have to send people to Poppy. We’ve set up classes; for self defense, for healing, for Occlumency. Everyone is on their toes, no one is safe anymore. They’ve started going after muggles, after half-bloods. They’ve spread, far and wide. Lucius is far more powerful than we ever thought. Something he did that day… it’s almost like Voldemort never left.”

Hermione’s mind reeled and the guilt threatened to consume her once more. She shoved it down. She would never be any good to any one if she didn’t stop the pity.

“He never said anything…” she whispered. How could Malfoy have not mentioned the fact that his father was now ruler of all evil, that his mother had been slaughtered like a sacrificial lamb and that his father had married his aunt?

“Like I said, he keeps to himself mostly. Doesn’t like to talk about it. Now, here’s where you come in. Can you think of anything, anything, you might have read, seen, heard that might get us past those barriers? Can you think of any way to get to Harry? Because if we have Harry, we could tip the scales.”

Her lungs felt heavy. How could she possibly get to him? She couldn’t think of anything about magical barriers other than the normal ones they would already know all about. What could she do different?

Think, Hermione! Think! What do you have that others don’t? What could you do?

Her heart skipped a beat. She knew what she had, Mulciber had told her as much. If she could get Lucius to draw her in…she could find Harry…but the wards…how would she get past the wards when she couldn’t do magic?

“Hermione?” Kingsley’s deep voice shook her out of her reverie.

“I need to see Professor McGonagall.”

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McGonagall’s lips were pursed as she studied Hermione across the desk.

“So, you’re telling me that you’ve lost your powers?”

“Yes.”

“But that’s impossible,” she said, sitting back.

“I assure you, Professor, it isn’t. Watch,” she pulled her wand from her robes and tried desperately once more to summon a clock from the fireplace mantle. She had just spent the last hour explaining everything to McGonagall and she was exhausted. The clock didn’t so much as shudder and she lifted her hands, exasperated.

“I can’t do it! Draco Malfoy had to remind me the spell! I don’t remember anything, not one.”

“Can you summon your Patronus?” the older woman asked. Hermione shook her head.

“I don’t even remember the spell to do so.”

“Hmm,” McGonagall rose and went to a shelf of books, pulled one down. She rifled through it and stopped when she found what she’d been looking for.

“I’ve heard of this only once before. It’s not common, but in your case…it may fit. I just hope…”

“What? What is it, Professor? Please anything you can do to help…”

“Miss Granger,” she said, taking her seat and gesturing for Hermione to do the same. “I need you to answer me, and answer me truthfully. Can you remember the last time you used your magic?”

“Yes,”

“Did something traumatic happen directly before or after?”

Her eyes closed as she remembered his body, crushing, his hands, the splitting sensation ripping through her body. She’d aparated…that had been the last. Slowly, she nodded. If this woman could help her get her magic back, she would confess.

“Miss Granger, I need to know. Were you possessed by Dark Magic?”

Again, without opening her eyes, she nodded. She heard something move in front of her, sliding along the wood surface of the desk and she looked up. The book was facing her, waiting to be read. She looked at the older woman who nodded encouragingly.

Malum Penes

The occupation of ones body or mind by an evil force may wreck havoc on ones magical cadence. The evil possession may cause temporary deficiencies in magical powers. This is reconcilable in most cases, depending on the severity of the force. There are many ways one may be possessed; by Legilimency, Polyjuice Potion, the Imperius Curse, a magical bond, or in some instances by placing the seed of evil into the body of good. The first four are easily curable by the steps indicated below. In the situation of the latter, ones system may be thrown off entirely, never to be recovered from the surge of power from the evil form, taking over the body in its whole. It is not impossible, however, and may be sparked by unknown causes. The sooner one is aware of the reasoning behind their magical interruption, the easier it will be to collect their chi and restore harmony to their magical flow. The following are a few suggestions-

Hermione tore her eyes from the book. The words burned through her mind, embedding themselves on her conscious. Never to be recovered, the sooner, the easier. Two years, two and a half years and she had not known. She had thought that by ridding herself of it she would be cleansed, but this was not the circumstance, apparently. That bastard had filled her body with his evil and now she may never get her magic back.

“Miss Granger, you must tell me what happened if I am to help you,” McGonagall spoke softly.

“I don’t think you can,” Hermione whispered. The older woman’s eyes filled with tears and she reached out, placing her withered hand over Hermione’s.

“We will fix this. It can be fixed.”

In the woman’s stern, dark eyes she saw the strength she needed. She nodded.

“Thank you.”

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A/N: Just so we are all clear, here is what you know about the war:
~The Second War has ended, Voldemort was defeated. Everyone who was killed in the book was also killed in this story including Harry and Ron.
~The After War began two days after Hermione’s disappearance, May 14, 2006.
~Lucius Malfoy is the new Dark Lord (or so he calls himself).
~Bellatrix Lestrange and Lucius Malfoy are now married.
~Death Eaters are trying to “purify” the world by taking out anything other than purebloods.
~The Den is the new Order of the Phoenix Headquarters.
~Kingsley is Minister and new Head of the Order of the Phoenix.
~McGonagall is new Headmistress at Hogwarts as well as Chief of anything that goes on there war-wise.
~I’ve tweaked the time-scale to now-days just because I can.

I think that’s about it. You’ll learn a little bit more each chapter.

P.S. Where are the reviews? Are you guys not enjoying my story?!

Cookies to those who review!

XOXO

RynStar15