The Fool, the Emperor, and the Hanged Man

Title: The Fool, the Emperor, and the Hanged Man
Author: ianthe_waiting
Rating: MA/NC-17
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter books and their characters are the property of JK Rowling. This is a work of fan-fiction. No infringement is intended, and no money is being made from this story. I am just borrowing the puppets, but this is my stage.
Genre: Suspense, romance, angst
Warnings: Character Death, graphic violence, madness, non-consensual sexual acts, abuse, oral, M/F, and overall darkness. Dark!Harry included.
Summary: DH-EWE: Ten years after the fall of the Dark Lord, Hermione Granger leads of life of self-imposed obscurity, that is, until the day Headmistress Minerva McGonagall is murdered and a certain 'hero' is responsible.
Author's Notes: This fic is in 1st person POV, so take heed. It will eventually be a DM/HG, but there is a squicky scene that might make you think otherwise. There is some non-con in this fic, so if it squicks you, don't read it for Merlin's sake! Comments and ConCrit is welcomed!


The Fool, the Emperor, and the Hanged Man

Part 15



I had been dreaming.

“Hermione!” a male voice exclaimed, and I realized that I was on my knees, twigs digging into my kneecaps. A pair of hands were bruising my upper arms, and my head was nodding back and forth, being shaken by those hands roughly.

“Lucius! Stop shaking her…can’t you see her eyes?” a female voice cried from behind the silhouette of the man shaking me.

The shaking stopped, and I blinked.

“Mr. Malfoy?” I whispered.

“Thank Merlin, Miss Granger, I thought…” he said hurriedly, the grip of his hands lessening. Lucius Malfoy lifted me easily to my feet, and I realized that Narcissa stood just behind him with a lantern lifted in her hand.

“Are you hurt, Hermione?” Narcissa asked, and in the lantern light I could see that her face was smudged with what looked like soot, and tears had blazed trails through the soot down her cheeks.

I blinked rapidly, my vision moving to Lucius Malfoy who finally released me and took a step back. His face was also smudged, but there was blood also, running from his left temple and down the side of his face. His clothing was in tatters, and I could smell burnt hair.

“Where am I?” I gasped, realizing that I too was dirty, but not from soot…but mud.

My hands were muddy, two fingernails broken to the quick. My feet were bare, and the hems of my skirt were torn. My hair was caked with mud and leaves, and my shirt torn in several places, the left sleeve half way ripped from the seam.

Trees were behind me, and behind the Malfoys was a seemingly endless stretch of field. However, as I turned to my right, there was an orange glow on the dark horizon, far away.

The snicker of horses startled me, and I realized that two horses only fitted with halters were tethered to a small tree nearby.

“Miss Granger, what is the last thing you remember?”

I opened my mouth to reply to Lucius…but nothing came as my eyes moved again to the orange glow on the horizon.

I remembered Severus.

Yes, it had been Severus who had dragged me through the dream of my version of the palace of Knossos. Before that was…

“Falling asleep in the groom’s quarters…

Oh gods…where’s Malfoy?”

Lucius glanced to his wife, and my heart skipped a beat.

“What’s happened? Where am I? Why is this…?” I screamed, my muddy hands balling into fists.

Narcissa choked on a sob and passed the lantern to Lucius, gliding toward me to wrap me in an embrace, one arm about my body, the other about my shoulders so that her hand rested on the back of my head. I returned the embrace with one arm, but stared at Lucius, my expression demanding answers.

“The Manor has been attacked,” he said flatly.

My brow knitted as Narcissa shook against me.

“That glow you see on the horizon is the burning remains.”

“But how?” I asked in a whisper.

Lucius’ eyes moved away from my own and to the trees tops above us. “Potter has somehow rallied a group to move against us. That is all I know. We were attacked by no less than fifteen wizards and witches. I do not know how they got through the wards, but the Manor was aflame within minutes…”

Narcissa sniffled and pulled away to grasp my hands.

“It started in the dungeons. It was a fire impervious to any magical means of extinguishing. It moved slowly at first, allowing the group to enter the Manor and begin scouring the first and second floors.”

My breath stopped in my throat.

“When they reached the third floor, the fire had nearly blocked their exit.

We tried contacting the Ministry, but the Floos had been blocked. We could not Apparate or make a Portkey. So we fought,” Lucius said gruffly, his chin raising haughtily as he spoke.

“We killed half of them, and had the elves remove the bodies from the Manor. We lost a quarter of our elves when they tried to dowse the fire with their elfin magic…” Narcissa whispered, her sorrow evident in her voice.

I started to shake, partly from the cold, partly from the thought that possibly…possibly Harry had found the Time-Turners I had hidden in the bathroom of my chambers.

“And Malfoy?” I asked, my throat dry, my legs ready to give out at any moment.

Lucius sighed. “We do not know. He was in the Manor, he was fighting with us, as well as trying unblock at least one Floo to get a message through. Narcissa was with him on the second floor when the ceiling collapsed…”

“He pushed me out of the way…and I could not get to him…” Narcissa cried softly.

My lips trembled.

“Draco had told us that you were in his apartments above the stables. When we ran through the gardens, we found that two of the group had moved far across the grounds to the stables, about to set it on fire…

We killed them, but we found that you had gone. We took our horses, but there were more attackers coming, the remainder that had survived. They did not care about the stables, but tried to follow us…on brooms, I think. We cut through the forest. There are ancient protections for those of the Malfoy family in the forest. It is a natural cover,” Lucius finished.

“We found you kneeling on the ground here. Lucius could not rouse you…and he struck you,” Narcissa whispered, casting a disdainful glance toward her husband.

I clenched my teeth. It had not been Severus who had struck me after all…but I could not be angry with Lucius…

“Are they gone?”

Narcissa glanced to Lucius.

“We believe so,” Lucius said softly, turning to look at the glow on the horizon again, a flash of anger and sorrow twisting his features. “But we’re not taking any chances. We cannot be certain, but we believe that the Manor was not their primary concern.”

I lowered my eyes to the dark ground.

“It was our lives, Miss Granger…yours included.”

I frowned. It was not just our lives…it was the Time-Turners.

“What do we do?” I asked, risking a look at Lucius who was studying me intently.

“We go into the forest, as deep was we can until sunrise, then ride out.”

I nodded slowly as Narcissa squeezed my hand.

Soon, I rode behind Lucius, his horse able to carry more than one rider. It was a stout white Arabian, while Narcissa rode a lighter horse with a dappled grey coat. I clung to Lucius as we flew through the forest, the lantern extinguished so that only the starlight and pale quarter moonlit the paths between the great white trunks of ancient trees.

I did not know how late the hour was, but I could still see a bit of orange on the horizon as Malfoy Manor burned. It was not until we stopped at a stream deep in the forest, feeling safe enough to rest, did Lucius tell me that Malfoy Manor burned twice before, the first time back in the 14th century, the last time in his own lifetime.

“Most things in the Manor are protected from fire…only Fiendfyre could destroy the books, the portraits, and some of our other heirlooms hidden away in the wooden walls,” Lucius said, sitting on a rock by the stream, Narcissa beside him, her head resting on his shoulder as he held her…she slept with a mournful expression on her face. I sat on the other side of the small stream, leaning down to cup cold water in my hand to wash the mud from my face and hands. I had let my battered and bloody feet soak, the icy water numbing the pain before I pulled the walnut wand from my sleeve and healed my feet as well as casting a warming Charm.

In the light of early morning, I could see Lucius’ brow lift at the sight of the wand, but he said nothing. I knew he would ask me about the wand later, but I was thankful that I had remembered not to pull the Elder Wand from my sleeve.

“You said it was Harry…but did you see him?” I asked softly, keeping my voice low as not to wake Narcissa.

“’Cissa did. She said that he came only as far as the foyer, and quickly disappeared after we started killing them.”

“Did you know any of ‘them?’”

Lucius closed his eyes. “A few were familiar. I could not tell you specific names, but the ones I recognized were people I had somehow used or destroyed financially. These were people who wanted my entire family given to the Dementors after the War.

I admit that I did these people a great injustice by taking their money or threatening them, but I have been working since then to rectify those crimes. I never thought that those people would take up arms against me themselves…”

I sighed, pulling my feet up under what was left of my skirts.

“I think some of the others are part of a terrorist group from far north…at least one of the faces looked familiar to me from the Prophet.”

I narrowed my eyes. Parvati had mentioned ‘terrorists,’ but I still did not understand what was happening outside my little world…

If Harry had somehow rallied followers…

He was becoming more and more like Voldemort.

Hopelessness…it was all I could feel as I sat with Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy, hiding in the forest until it was light enough to return to the remains of their home. Harry possibly had the Time-Turners…and the Invisibility Cloak was most likely ash…

And Malfoy…Malfoy…the Malfoy I had kissed…the Malfoy I had wanted…

He could not be dead, and I could not go on without his help.




The sunrise was bright, and by the time we emerged from the trees at the back paddock of the stables, the day was proving to be as lovely as the one before. Not even the birds singing, the warmer wind blowing, or the majestic blue of the sky could overrule the scent of fire and ash coming from the Manor however.

Stopping before the stables, I slid off the back of Lucius’ horse, my feet alighting softly into the ground just beside the bodies of two men. Narcissa stayed on her horse, loosening the lead rope she used as reigns so that her mount could sniff at the ground and take a mouthful of grass. Lucius jumped down from his Arabian, holding the reigns to walk to stand next to me.

The two men had been placed side by side, dressed in what looked like everyday clothes under a thick black cloak…but my eyes fell to a patch sewn on the inside of their cloaks. The patches were crudely made, and there were only dark red letters upon a heraldic shaped white shield.

W.A.T.C.H… It seemed to be an acronym of an organization, for both men wore the patch.

The man closest to me on the ground was about my age, it seemed, but I did not recognize his face. The second man was older with white tufts of hair about his temples, but I did not recognize him either. It was obvious that a Killing Curse had struck both men down, but from the scorch marks on the front of the stable, it seemed that they had begun to attempt to burn the structure to my right to ash…

“Not familiar?” Lucius asked.

I shook my head. “What is W.A.T.C.H.?”

Lucius sighed. “I’m not exactly sure of the name, but I think it is: Wizards (or Witches) Against Tyranny, Corruption, and…something that begins with an ‘h,’ maybe ‘hubris,’ or ‘hauteur,’ or something of the sort.”

I frowned, committing both faces to memory. “Vigilantes?”

“Yes. Vigilantes who had turned ‘terrorist.’ They have not just attacked exonerated Death Eaters and former corrupt Ministry officials, but innocents as well. There was an attack in Glasgow…”

“Yes, I heard about it. W.A.T.C.H. was responsible?”

Lucius nodded, glancing back to Narcissa whose horse was walking as it willed, but Narcissa watching us closely from a distance.

“Perhaps ‘Cissa and I will go up to the stables and try the Floo there…”

“Wait,” I said softly, raising my hand up from my side.

Lucius cocked his head and studied me.

“Before calling the Ministry…we should search the Manor. I need to find…” I began, but stopped, flicking my eyes away from the two dead men.

“I read your meaning perfectly, Miss Granger.”

I frowned, and looked up into Lucius’ face. He was grinning…and it unsettled me.

“There are some things that need to be done to the Manor before the Ministry arrives, certain heirlooms that need to be moved…”

I, surprisingly, sighed in relief. Lucius was not one I would trust far, but he was astute…and very Slytherin.

Lucius pulled me up behind him as we three rode toward the Manor through the gardens, taking the arboretum path so that we arrived just outside the kitchens.

In the small kitchen garden, several elves were moving about, arranging at least eight more bodies on the grass. The kitchen itself was intact while the Manor seemed to have been cleft down the middle, the foyer and the more central rooms open to the sky, only a small bit of smoke rising upward. The far ends of the Manor were untouched, as if the flame was only concerned with devouring the middle of the large structure.

I, again, slid off the back of Lucius’ horse, moving to the row of bodies. Narcissa and Lucius were behind me, Lucius speaking with one of the elves while Narcissa stood by close. My heart pounding, I slipped my hand into hers, and together we walked down the row of bodies, looking at their faces.

“That’s Aubrey Quinn…” Narcissa whispered, pointing to a middle aged wizard with brown hair in the middle of the row. His face was posed, his eyes shut, but I knew he had been struck by a Killing Curse. “Many years ago, in the dark times, Lucius threatened his family if they did not support a motion he was pushing through the courts…two years ago Lucius repaid the Quinn family by making Aubrey a clerk in the lower courts… Aubrey was Lord Quinn’s only son…and not very bright. The Quinns were lesser gentry, and were poor…”

Narcissa did not continue as we moved on. She mentioned more names, none of which I recognized. However, at the very end of the row, one of only three I had seen, was a witch…a witch I recognized.

“It’s Cho Chang…” I whispered, my shoulders shaking.

Part of her hair lovely black hair was burnt away, and her right ear melted by fire, but the damage was post-mortem. She had died from a Killing curse, it seemed. I had not seen Cho for years, not since the Last Battle. She seemed to disappear off the face of the earth after the War, but I had always known that she had grown bitter after Cedric’s death and Harry’s rejection of her advances. I never would have imagined that she would be part of a terrorist organization…but it did not shock me as deeply as I thought it would either.

“Her mother still works for the Ministry…dear Merlin…I wonder if Lin knew?”

I shook my head…I had not known much about Cho years, and even less as of late.

Ten bodies so far, and I wondered if there were others in the burnt rubble inside the Manor. Narcissa and I returned to Lucius where he was kneeling down to speak to the one elf whose name I knew…Squeak.

Rising to his feet, Lucius turned to us and said, “There are no more bodies in the Manor.”

Narcissa swooned and I caught her before she fell. Lucius rushed forward and pulled his wife to her feet and I released her, not having the strength to hold her long.

“Draco?” Narcissa whispered through tears.

I studied Lucius’ face. “The elves have not found him…”

My lips trembled. Hope…a small spark, but hope nonetheless.

“Miss Granger, Squeak will take you inside. I’ll be following in a moment.”

I nodded, and turned my attentions to the small elf waiting nearby. The elf and I locked eyes, and I could see that the creature was shaking, not from fear or shock, but from anger. The anger was not directed toward me, but at the bodies lying on the grass behind me.

“Miss will hold Squeak’s hand,” the elf said swiftly, the squeaky namesake absent from the elf’s voice.

I nodded again, bending down to grasp the long fingers of the elf’s hand, and suddenly, with a pop, we were in the foyer, just before the front doors. I had to pant to catch my breath, the elfish Apparition so abrupt that it had taken the air from my lungs. Even the elf seemed a bit shaken, and I wondered if there was still some residual warding the damaged Manor. I pulled my hand away and straightened, unsure if I recognized anything I was seeing.

Part of the marble floor was missing, having fallen down into what I assumed were the dungeons and cellars below. I had never been in the Malfoy dungeons, although I remembered what Harry and Ron told me years ago. Smoke was still rising from below and the metallic stone odor of burnt rock assaulted my nose.

Before me was what remained of the grand staircase, the wooden stairs reaching only as high as the second floor, but the landing was burnt away. I could not use the stairs to ascend. Sunlight streamed into the debris-strewn foyer, roof beams having falling down into the cleft, glass from shattered windows littered what was left of the marble floor.

It reminded me of scenes from Muggle television…of tornadoes ripping through the middle of houses in America…my father liked those sorts of programmes for an odd reason. However, no tornado had ripped through Malfoy Manor…it had been enchanted fire.

I started to move, the elf close by me, moving as gingerly as possible, afraid that the floor might give way under my bare feet and I would fall into the smoking dungeons below. I frowned at my feet, and drawing my walnut wand, placed a Charm on my them so that the debris on the floor would not hurt me.

On either sides, the wooden walls had burnt away, and I could see into destroyed rooms, all the way into Lucius’ study on one side, and a grand dinning room on the other. The second and third floors were much the same, but I realized as I shielded my eyes from the sunlight, the fire had not reached my third floor chambers…and my small spark of hope turned into a small fire inside my chest.

I leapt over a particularly large hole in the floor so that I came to the terminus of the stairs, looking up toward the destroyed third floor corridor leading to my room. I lowered my gaze to the stairs and bit my lip, my eyes traveling down the scorched rug over the wooden steps.

However, my eyes paused on the landing between the first and second floors, and before I thought about the structural integrity of the stairs, I flew up to the landing, falling to my knees.

The elf had stayed at the bottom of the stairs, and I was thankful for the its discretion for before me was the goblin-warded box, resting upon a intact piece of rug.

The box was coated in caramelized bloody handprints, and I could smell burnt flesh coming from the surface. I shook…it did not seem as though the latch had been opened. With trembling hands I tapped the box lightly, waiting for some kind of hex to burn my hands as well… I knew the fire could not have produced such bloody handprints, and the box’s enchantment were the culprit.

The wards only hummed when I touched it, and I moved my fingers to the latch, the lead popping open at my touch. Whoever had touched the box was probably sporting hands burnt down to the bone. I could not begin to understand why the goblin formed lead had allowed me to touch it or open it, but it had. And I hesitated to open the lid.

Taking a deep breath, I moved. The hinges gave a low squeal as the lid opened…and I looked down into the box, my face crumpling.

There was only one Time-Turner in the box…when there should have been two…

Hope was dashed.

A cry passed my lips as I looked around me for the second device, seeing nothing.

Control yourself, Miss Granger, you will attract attention…Severus whispered.

I heeded his words as I stared at the left most Time-Turner. The device looked to be intact, but just to be sure, I carefully lifted it out of the casing. I blinked as I realized that underneath the Time-Turner was a hidden indentation…and set into the indentation was a silver disc engraved around the edges with decorative waves, and oddly enough, dolphins. The face of the disc was blank and as I ran a finger over it, the metal hummed. I had a good idea what the disc was, but could not be certain until I studied it. However, I knew…even if one Time-Turner was gone, I would know if or when it would be used.

“Thank Merlin for madness,” I whispered, placing the Time-Turner back into its casing, gently shutting the lid and fastening the latch so that the box hummed under my hands, and the caramelized blood and pieces of skin seemed to peel away, leaving the lead unmarked, the runes moving under my fingers.

I sat for a while, my palms against the lead. Harry must have somehow managed to open the box and take one of the Time-Turners. Because he had not taken both lead me to believe that either the fire in the Manor, or the box itself, led to a hasty removal of the device. I grinned malevolently, I could not help myself…Harry took one device…but not all that would keep me from following him if I needed to…

“I love being a know-it-all,” I hissed, taking the box into my arms, and hugging it tight against my chest.

I began moving up the stairs again, the elf finally taking the cue to follow. I came to the remains of the second floor landing, finding that it was not very stable, and that a gap of at least six metres spanned between the edge of the landing and the corridors on either side.

Only one corridor was blocked by the floor of the ceiling and corridor floor above…and that was where Malfoy had pushed Narcissa out of the way to save her from being trapped.

“Squeak will lighten Granger’s feet!” the elf exclaimed. “Master Draco might be there!” Squeak pointed with a clawed finger to the debris.

I nodded, and suddenly my body felt like it weigh nothing at all, only the lead box in my arms having any weight…but not enough to make me fall.

Rising up to my toes with my left foot, I kicked off the floor with my right, making the wood of the landing groan slightly.

I floated, my body rising up in a low arc, so that when I began to float down, my toes landed on the thick carpet of the corridor, the floor sound. I turned back to Squeak who was watching intently. I wondered why the elf had not followed, but I was more concerned with removing the debris that blocked my way further into the unburned portion of the Manor.

I pulled the Elder Wand, not fearing that Lucius would somehow see it…or the elf mention it. I came to the debris and looking up, could see into the corridor above.

With a violent motion, I cast a spell that would neatly piled the boards and burnt debris on either side of the wide corridor, providing a path for me to move forward. As boards and pieces of rug flew past my face, I prepared myself with thoughts of healing Charms…just in case.

However, as the last of the debris was moved, I found no one under the mess, or behind it… I blinked, running down the corridor, throwing open doors. “Malfoy!” I yelled, but found that every room left intact was empty, and there were no traces that anyone had been in most of the rooms during the fire.

I cast a ‘Homenum revelio’ for any human life, but found none.

Malfoy had somehow managed to escape the Manor, possibly. And my spell did not detect life…but there were no bodies.

I returned to the edge of the burnt corridor where Squeak was waiting across the wide gap.

“He’s not here,” I said softly, my eyes moving the foyer below.

“Master Draco is not here,” the elf repeated in its squeaky tones. “On the grounds…”

I clenched my jaw. “I will look…but I have to go up to my rooms, Squeak…”

“Squeak understands,” the elf said, moving its clawed hands so that again I felt as if I weighed nothing.

I took a determined breath, my eyes fixed upon my goal across the open cleft of the Manor to the corridor above. I held the lead box tightly as I leapt, the momentum of my body propelling me upward, drifting faster than before. I did not take my eyes from the spot I intended to land, and as I neared I knew that I was not going to make it.

I grunted, throwing the box with a wince into the corridor, drawing the Elder Wand and casting a spell to propel me faster…

I found myself rolling in somersaults into the third floor corridor, and with as much grace as I could muster, I rolled to land on my feet just beside the lead box.

“Mistress?” a concerned elf voice called to me. I strode back to the edge of the corridor to see Squeak’s wide eyes staring up at me.

“I’m fine. Go to your Master, and tell him that his son is not in the Manor.”

The elf bowed, and began to run down the stairs and out of sight. I wondered why the elf did not Apparate us both up into the Manor…and why the Apparition into the house was almost painful. Perhaps the Anti-Apparition wards Lucius had mentioned during the attack had prevented even the elves from moving about freely…

I shook my thoughts away and ran to the box, opening it again to be certain that my tossing it had not damaged the device inside. I was pleased to find that the box had protected the Time-Turner and that I had not ruined any chance to stop Harry…

Moving to the doors of my room, I found that the only devastation I could see was smoke damage…and striding through the opened doors I also found the pristine white of the room was stained black with smoke high on the walls. Everything else was unburned. However…the room was not as it had been.

The bed, mattress, and end tables were destroyed. The wardrobe was pushed over, clothes spilling out onto the rug…and the bathroom…green marble blasted into shards that led all the way into the bedroom. The room had been ransacked.

I sighed. Somehow the people who attacked knew which room to search. A niggling suspicion formed in my mind, but I tucked it away, as I turned all around, looking at the destruction.

When my eyes alighted upon my old coat, a cry passed my lips. It seemed that it had not been noticed…resting near the doors so that when the doors had been forced open, it was hidden. I fell to my knees again, taking up the coat in my arms, setting the box aside, I hugged and cried into the worn leather. And remembering…dug my hands into the bottomless pocket to find…

The Invisibility Cloak.

“Thank Merlin…” I breathed. No one had noticed the coat, no one knew that the Cloak was inside… Somehow, even though one of the Time-Turners had been taken, I was not so unlucky.

“Mreow?”

I froze at the sound of my familiar’s call, and I dropped the coat, casting my sight about until I saw two silver luminous eyes peering out from under the mattress, pulled from the bed and shredded.

“Oh Merlin!” I breathed, climbing to my feet to run to where my familiar was… I threw the mattress back to find my silver cat lying on his side, another pitiful call coming from his mouth…

I drew the Elder Wand again, running the tip over my familiar, finding that the only injury he had sustained was a crushed left paw. I could not imagine how my cat had come to be hiding in my room when he had spent most of his time in the dungeons or in Lucius’ study, but as I healed the tiny bones of his paw, his cries bringing tears to my eyes, all I cared about was the fact that he had survived…I had forgotten about him…and I felt guilty.

When he was healed, I took Malfoy in my arms, stroking his fur, and cooing to him. He smelled like smoke, and it seemed that he was mortified, his heart beating so fast that I was afraid for his health.

“My poor darling…my poor baby,” I whispered into his ear, holding him close.

It seemed that the sound my voice calmed him, and soon he was purring and smelling my face.

“I am so sorry, my darling…” I cried, rubbing behind his ear. “I’ll take you out of here…”

I stood, setting Malfoy on the overturned mattress and summoned the coat and box, applying the old worn leather and shoving the goblin-warded lead inside. Then, I dug for the shrunken haversack in the pocket and pulled it out, enlarging it. I opened the haversack and pointing to the clothes falling out of the wardrobe, bespelled the blouses, skirts, slacks, jumpers, socks, underwear and shoes to ‘pack’ into the haversack. Closing and shrinking the bag again, I stuffed it in my pocket.

Finally, I took my familiar in my hands and slipped him into the regular pocket, which was still big enough to hold him comfortably. Malfoy the cat stuck his narrow face out from the pocket and watched as we strode from the room and into the corridor. I let my fingers brush over his head as we came to the edge of the destroyed passage.

I sighed, casting another charm so that I took a small leap out from the corridor and floated across the gap and down, my toes using the second floor corridor to push off again, across the gap to the remaining stairs. I found Lucius waiting for me at the base of the stairs and into the ruined foyer.

“I see you found that infernal cat of yours,” he commented, his pale eyes gazing to the small head peeking out of my pocket. His voice was not nearly as harsh as it usually seemed, and I could feel my familiar purring heavily against my thigh where the pocket rested.

“He had a crushed paw, but he seems fine,” I said softly.

Lucius nodded and met my eyes. “Draco is not in the Manor at all, Squeak tells me.”

I nodded in affirmation.

“Find some shoes, Miss Granger, you will have to search the grounds. Narcissa is indisposed…she is resting in the kitchens.

I will be calling the Ministry in a few moments…”

“I understand. I’ll go quickly.”

Lucius’ lips quirked. “Do that, Miss Granger.”





I had left my familiar to sit on Narcissa’s lap in the kitchens, giving her a distraction from the destruction around her. I had found the kitchens the same as they had always been, Narcissa informing me that every time the Manor had burned only the kitchens had survived unscathed.

“It is the oldest part of the house…” she said softly.

Her face conveyed her exhaustion and sorrow. I knew she was still keenly aware of what was going on, but she knew she could do nothing to help matters. Narcissa contented herself to stay in the kitchens while I slid onto a pair of slippers I had found near the door leading out into the garden. I believed the slippers to be Narcissa’s at first, but they fit perfectly on my sore feet.

With a soft word that I was going to check the other gardens, Narcissa tried to smile.

“Hermione, dear, please be careful…” she said softly, and my face seemed to want to crumple again as I began out the door.

Part of me wanted to stay with Narcissa and my familiar. All of us, Lucius included, had had a shock. The Malfoys with the attack on their lovely home, and I with the discovery that one of the Time-Turners were gone.

I was becoming tired, but I ran along the cobbled path into the gardens and to the hedge maze. I drew my walnut wand just to be safe. I would have to kill or capture any one left of the W.A.T.C.H. group…if they were still on the grounds.

Malfoy had not been in the Manor, and it gave me hope. The only place I could think to look was the centre of the hedge maze and the Japanese gardens that Narcissa had said only the day before Malfoy had enjoyed.

My legs were cramping as I ran into the maze, my mind whirling. I did not know the way to the centre, but I ran all the same. At the point that I believed to be halfway…I came upon two figures lying on the pebbled path.

I skidded to a halt, panting.

A man was lying across the path…but the lower half was resting a way from his upper half. I slapped my left hand over my mouth as I saw that intestines ran like bloody ribbons between the portions. He had been blasted in half.

He was dressed just like the others I had seen, with the tale-tell patch sewn into his cloak. His face was a portrait of agony, his mouth open, his eyes wide, but I did not recognize his face. He, like many of others, was middle-aged.

I swallowed my vomit as I leapt over his body to the second…a woman.

I fell into the hedge, bending over to let vomit come up from deep inside, at the sight of gore, I could hold it back no longer. I spat and sobbed, the image of her face…or what was left of it burnt into my corneas. She had once had blond hair, but since half of her head was blasted away, I could not know for certain who she was…but her right eye was a dark brown…

When no more bile would come, I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, casting a cleansing charm over me. And then, without properly looking, I Conjured thin blankets so that they fell over the worst of the gore. I did not want to have to look at these people again. My last image of the scene was the bloodstained pebbles, and I continued running.

I did not come across any more bodies, but I had reached the centre of the maze. The sunlight streaming from behind a puffy white cloud, lighting the garden in serene Oriental beauty seemed to be misplaced after seeing so much destruction and death. In the garden I could not smell the burnt remains of the Manor, and I wondered if I had somehow stepped into some enchanted Shangri-la…

I moved toward the central gazebo, but paused as I saw a breath of wind disturb silver locks, just visible over the railing of the shaded structure. I forced myself into a run again, my light shoes slipping in the pebbles as I moved between two koi ponds and up two wooden steps to the wide platform.

The table and chairs rested as they had the day before, but in the hammock on the other side of the platform lay the man whom I had worried for the most.

The hammock swayed gently in the wind, and Malfoy’s left arm was dangling from the edge, the tip of Severus’ wand dragging against the wooden floor. I approached slowly, seeing that Malfoy had somehow lashed the wand to his hand. I gasped as I realized why. The bones of his left hand had been shattered, splinters poking through the skin at every conceivable angle.

Coming around to the side of the hammock, I looked down at Malfoy…his clothing from the day before singed, bloody, and torn. There was blood staining the white right sleeve of his shirt, and in his hand was Tom Riddle’s yew wand, barely held in his soot-blackened fingers. His hair was a mess of ash, blood, and what looked to be brain matter most likely from the woman in the maze. His face was coated in blood as well, but I could not tell if it was his or that of someone else. The eye patch over his ruined eye seemed to be the only unscathed part about him.

The bandage on his chest was bloody, and I could discern that the wound had reopened. But what concerned me most was the puddle of blood under the hammock, coming from his right thigh…a piece of splintered wood had impaled his leg, seeming to enter from the right side, and coming out the inside of his thigh. The blood had stopped, and the puddle underneath had already began to congeal.

I had to move him. I had to remove the splinter, I had to see if the leg were getting the proper blood flow…

Merlin, I wished I spent more time studying battlefield medicine!

Malfoy’s breathing was normal, but he shivered as I levitated him from the hammock to the nearest chair. He sat with his chin on his chest, his arms falling past the arms of the chair limply.

The first thing I did was pull the yew wand from his stiffened fingers, placing it on the table behind me. I then cast a cleansing charm over his face and hair, relieved to find that none of the blood was his own.

I decided to handle the splinter in his leg first, and kneeling down at his muddy boots, I grasped the tattered leg of his trousers, and using a pre-existing rip, tore the fabric up his leg to his knee. I winced as I tore the pant leg a bit more so that it did not jar the splinter so I could see his leg just past the wound.

I felt his leg, checking the pulse further down the limb, finding it strong. I moved my head to look closely at the splinter. Blood had dried as it had flowed down the back of the pale haired calf, down into his riding boot. It did not seem that any vital vessels had been damaged…only tissue damage.

I sat back on my haunches. Perhaps it would be best if I waited for a Healer. I knew Lucius was surely greeting the Aurors at the Manor at that moment.

I sighed, standing, moving to his right arm, trying to determine how the sleeve was so darkly stained. I needed him conscious…he could tell me how he had been injured…

I moved around the back of the chair to his left arm and the wand lashed to his crushed hand. I knew I could fix the damage easily. During the Last Battle, I had repaired similar injuries many times…and with a whispered incantation, I watched as the bones slipped back through the skin and knitted together. The skin sealed and Malfoy’s fingers jerked.

I jumped as Malfoy took a deep breath, his head falling back against the chair, his left eye opening wide.

“Malfoy!” I breathed, rushing around the chair to stand before him.

Malfoy began coughing, and I Conjured a glass of water for him, but seeing that his right arm did not want to move and that he had Severus’ wand still lashed to his left hand, I helped him drink in sips…his left eye watching me closely.

Setting the glass near the yew wand, I bent down to look at Malfoy evenly.

“Granger…” he whispered, his voice still course even after the water.

“You’re alright, Malfoy…but I need to know…”

“Mother! Father!” he shouted, trying to push himself to his feet, but fell back into the chair with a painful groan.

I took a breath, and leaning forward, resting my hands upon the arms of the chair, I spoke.

“They are fine. They found me and we waited in the forest until dawn. Your mother was sitting in the kitchen with my cat, and your father was calling the Ministry when I left.”

Malfoy’s concern seemed to lessen at my words, but his eye was not focused, and pointing toward the direction of the Manor.

“The others…?”

“Dead or gone. I counted twelve dead,” I whispered.

“Eight escaped.”

Twenty in all? It seemed to be a bit much to kill the Malfoys and myself, but then again, it seemed that the Malfoys were incredibly hard to kill.

“Malfoy, I need to know where you are injured…your wound has reopened, and I am not sure if I should remove the splinter…I haven’t even looked at your right arm yet,” I said with a sob.

Malfoy closed his eye for a moment, and lifted his left hand to me. “Get this lash off, Granger.”

I complied, eventually setting Severus’ wand next to the yew counterpart.

“My arm’s broken…” he whispered, lacking the strength to speak louder. “You need to set it first then heal it…”

I straightened, blinking. I moved to his right shoulder and with a swift motion that made Malfoy grunt, ripped the sleeve at the shoulder so that the fabric slipped off his arm. I took a shaking breath at the sight of his upper arm…a shard of bone sticking out the through skin of his inner arm and muscle.

“When the ceiling fell…it hit my arm…” he supplied. “Now set it!” he hissed through clenched teeth.

I, again, complied.

Malfoy’s scream echoed through me, and I was sobbing as I began healing the arm and the tissue. I was surprised that Malfoy had not fainted…I had been close myself.

He flexed his hand when I had finished, and raised his arm only to wince, his left hand going to the wound on his chest. I moved forward, helping him to lower his arm. I ripped at the front of his shirt, peeling away the bandage on the front, and then forcing him to lean forward, found that his back was nearly healed.

“Took a Stunner to the chest…” he gasped, his hands grasping the arms of the chair.

I nodded as I helped him to sit back. Again, I healed him with the Elder Wand until the wound closed completely so that the skin was unmarked and his pain lessened.

“What about your leg, Malfoy…I’m not sure what to do…” I said pathetically.

Malfoy stared down his patrician nose at the splinter impaling his right leg. “It looks like a bit of wainscoting from the first floor…I must have done that when I fell into the dungeons.”

I stared at him incredulously, but knelt down to study his leg again. I told him that I did not think there was an vascular damage, but I was not sure what to do…

“I pull it out, you heal it. Simple enough for you, Granger?” he sneered.

I stared at him, mouth open for a moment and then glared. “You have lost quite a bit of blood, Malfoy…”

“Fuck it, Granger. I need to be able to walk back to the Manor!”

“I can Levitate you, Malfoy…”

He growled, his hand grasping the shoulder of my coat, pulling me toward him. “Just do as I say, Granger…and then I can get you transferred to another safe house!”

I blinked, my face only inches from his. “Are you in such a hurry to get rid of me, Malfoy?” I whispered.

He sneered. “If you had not been here, I might still have my home, Granger,” he hissed, every word dripping with a venom I had not heard in years.

I jerked free of his grasp and straightened. My eyes felt as if they were on fire as I stared down at him, slowly taking steps back and away. His face was a combination of pain from his wounds and anger…which was pointed toward me at that moment.

“Where are you going, Granger? Get over here!” he snarled, his hands clutching the chair again.

I shook my head, my filthy hair falling around my face and body. “Heal yourself, Malfoy…” I whispered, my back falling against one of the Orient green posts. “I have been such a burden to you and your parents, I think it is best I go now.”

Malfoy’s face froze, his brows knitted over his ruined and gleaming silver eye. “What the hell are you talking about, Granger. Get over here!”

“No. I’ll fetch someone for you, Malfoy. I’ve done enough.”

I turned and walked slowly down the steps to the pebbled path.

“Granger!”

I moved around the ponds to the original passage I had used to reach the garden.

“I need you, Granger!”

I froze just as I came upon the passage that would lead me back. His voice had a hint of desperation, and that was what made me pause.

“Granger…”

He sounded weaker, and I turned to find that he had managed to rise from the chair, and using his left leg, limp to the railing of the gazebo, his hands supporting his weight as he stared after me.

I took a few steps back toward him, but froze again as I came to the path leading to the raised platform.

“I want to ask you something, Draco Malfoy,” I called. He could only stare at me, his lips trembling from the pain.

“I will answer only if you help me.”

“I know. But you’ll answer my question first.”

He seemed to consider for a few moment, and then answered, weaker than before.

“Very well…”

I hastened up the path to the gazebo, grasping his left arm, pushed him down into the chair again, kneeling before him and drawing the Elder Wand.

“When has ethics…” I began, my left hand wrapping around the thickest part of the splinter. “…ever…” I readied myself to pull…Malfoy was growing too weak to pull it out himself. “…meant so much to you?”

I pulled with all my strength, what little there was, but the splinter came out intact, and a simple spell on the wound sanitized and pushed out any other foreign objects from the hole. Malfoy had screamed when I pulled the bit of wood out. I winced as his hands cracked the wood of the arms of the chair he sat in.

I dropped the splinter to the floor and immediately moved to begin knitting the tissue with magic, and close the wound.

I, too, was beginning to feel fatigued. I was pouring great deals of my magic into healing Malfoy, and I knew that I could not heal the wound entirely. The muscle tissue had been repaired, but I would have to wrap the leg and wait until later to heal the skin and few layers underneath.

“You did not answer my question, Malfoy,” I said in a whisper, Conjuring clean bandages from the tip of the Elder Wand.

I swayed where I knelt as I began to gently wrap his thigh. My eyelids were growing heavier as I tried to keep the tightness consistent.

“The ethics question?” he asked softly.

I nodded, tearing the bandage to tie it…but a hand rested over mine, stopping my motion. I did not have the energy to lift my face.

“You are asking that because of what I said yesterday?”

I hummed, my eyes beginning to close.

I heard him sigh, using his hand to gently push mine aside so he could tie the bandage himself, my forehead fell against his other knee, my arms falling to the floor so that the backs of my palms rested on the wood.

“I could care less about ethics, Granger, or departmental codes.”

“Then…why?” I mumbled.

His hand rested upon my head, and I heard him stifle a chuckle, apparently at the dirtiness of my hair. But then he sighed, the sound of the chair cracking slightly telling me that he as finally beginning to relax.

“I told you before, Granger. I am not a good man…and you are a good woman. Too good for my tastes.”

I said nothing for Malfoy’s words barely registered. I was slipping into an exhausted sleep, a sleep with no dreams to entrap me…

I do not know how long I slept, but it could only have been a few minutes for Malfoy roused me, and I saw Kingsley Shacklebolt and, surprisingly, Charlie Weasley standing on the steps of the platform.

I stretched quickly, my neck very stiff, and rose to my feet as Kingsley and Charlie came forward.

“Charlie? What are you doing here?” I asked in astonishment, covertly checking to see that my wands were safely hidden in my sleeve.

Charlie looked just as I remembered him…ginger hair, sapphire eyes, ruddy complexion, wide shoulders, thick arms…dressed in strange dragon hide clothing that reminded me of body armor, and a cloak of deep green over his shoulders.

“Answering the call, Hermione. Have you been injured?”

I shook my head, gaping slightly. I did not understand what Charlie meant by ‘answering the call.’

Kingsley glanced warmly at me and quickly moved to Malfoy.

“You’ve been to the Manor, I assume?” I heard Malfoy ask as Kingsley moved to examine the wound in Malfoy’s leg.

“Williamson and the others are there…Flint is looking at the bodies in the maze,” Kingsley said, nodding his bald head, apparently satisfied with the state of Malfoy’s nearly healed wounds.

Malfoy pushed himself up, and applying a little pressure to his right leg, smirked at me before picking up his wands and shoving one into either pocket of his trousers.

“Why aren’t you in hiding?” I asked Charlie, turning to the second oldest Weasley son.

“Hiding? I’ve been…”

Malfoy seemed to hiss, causing Charlie’s voice to trail. I frowned, glancing to Malfoy who was glaring at Charlie as if to kill.

“Granger, now is not the time…” Malfoy growled, and I took a breath to purge my frustration.

“We’ve come to collect you,” Kingsley said abruptly, his deep voice breaking the sudden tension. “Williamson is taking statements from your parents now, Malfoy. We will need a statement from you as well…and Hermione, whenever you are ready.”

Malfoy limped past me and Charlie to the steps. Kingsley followed, then Charlie, but I hesitated in the shade of the gazebo. Once again, I found myself, in a span of less than twenty-four hours, totally confused at what was happening around me.

I moved just before I lost sight of the three men, my body still not ready to move as quickly as I needed it to, and protesting with a cramp in my gut when I pushed my legs to keep up. Malfoy limped quickly along the pebbled path, whispering to Charlie, apparently angry by the tone of his indistinct voice. Kingsley skipped a pace to fall in beside me as we walked.

Coming upon the bodies I had passed earlier, I saw that Flint and a witch with cropped blond hair were working to move the bodies back to the Manor. Flint nodded to me as we passed, and I tried not look at the puddle of sick I had left between the torn body of the man and the dead woman.

When we finally reached the kitchen of the Manor, I was about to faint. Kingsley quickly helped me to sit in the nook next Narcissa, who threw an arm about my shoulders and pulled me close so that we could lean into each other.

The kitchen was crowded with elves and people…and Narcissa and I watched them, their voices too loud and too numerous to understand what was going on. Lucius stood at the far end of the kitchen talking with Williamson, both men occasionally glancing in the direction of the nook. There were other Aurors, some coming in from the burnt Manor while others I could see outside the windows, examining the bodies. At some later point I saw that Flint and the female police officer had brought the bodies from the maze into the kitchen garden…two other officers I did not recognize delivered the bodies from outside the stables.

Malfoy was sitting on one of the worktables, his face contorted angrily as he spoke to Alastor Gumboil and Charlie Weasley. He would turn his eye to me often as my head rested upon Narcissa’s soot covered shoulder.

My familiar was sleeping on Narcissa’s lap, and Narcissa herself was dozing, her cheek against the top of my head. I was sure that the two of us made for an odd picture…filthy, exhausted, holding each other like mother and daughter, but no one seemed to mind, only look at us from time to time with faces ranging from sympathetic to deeply concerned.

As the day wore on, I was able to shut my eyes into a dreamless nap, comforted by Narcissa’s embrace. However, when sunset came, Lucius woke us gently, telling us that we were going to leave the Manor.

“To where?” I asked, rubbing my eyes with my fist, finding that Aurors and police officers were still moving in and out of the kitchen, and that parchments, maps, and bottles of butterbeer littered the kitchen counters and worktables.

“Shacklebolt will be taking Narcissa to the bothy on the far side of the fields. It is protected, concealed in a vale, I will be joining her later.

You, Miss Granger…Charlie Weasley is taking you back to the groom’s quarters…”

I frowned at Lucius as he knelt next to Narcissa. As if seeing that I was a bit confused and still disoriented from my nap, Lucius continued.

“Draco has told me that you wanted to move to another safe house…he won’t allow it. Draco will be with you in the groom’s quarters, and several new wards will be placed. He can explain it to you after you are settled…

Come, my love,” Lucius whispered to Narcissa, a gentle hand caressing her cheek, “It has been ages since we’ve been to the bothy…Leak is already there preparing it for us…”

Narcissa took a breath, and with a squeeze, she entangled her arm from about me, rising with her left hand in her husband’s. My familiar followed her from under the table.

“Where’s Draco?” she asked softly. “Won’t he see to Hermione?”

“Charlie Weasley will do that, my love,” Lucius purred, his face softening as he looked at his wife. And then turning to me again, “Thank you for taking care of Draco, Miss Granger…”

I nodded as Lucius led a sleepy Narcissa to the kitchen door out into the gardens. My familiar followed her and she bent down to take the cat in her arms. I did not mind that my familiar was keeping Narcissa distracted…I myself was too distracted to stay awake.

Narcissa turned to me and smiled, her mouth moving to form the words ‘thank you.’ I could see from my seat both Malfoys moving through the warm sunset lit garden, to meet Kingsley who took Narcissa’s arm in his and led her through the hedge and out of sight. Lucius did not reenter the kitchen, but began speaking to Flint over the bodies of the dead.

“Hermione?” a familiar voice asked, and I looked up and before the table in the nook to find Charlie Weasley staring down at me. “You look like you could use a good rest.”

His face broke into a smile that I found so comforting.

“You could say that…” I whispered.

“I’m supposed to take you to the stables…you’ll have to show me the way,” Charlie said with a laugh as I began to remove myself from the nook.

“I can do that, if you’ll tell me why you’re here, Charlie.”

Charlie’s smile faltered as I took his arm and moved to the kitchen doors and away from the sounds of the other people in the room.

“I suppose I can do that, Hermione.”

I glanced one last time to the row of bodies, and to Lucius who nodded to me as Charlie and I walked along the cobbled path. When we had cleared the hedge and was well into the first garden, he spoke.

“You have heard of the Interpol in the Muggle world?” Charlie asked, beginning slowly.

“Yes.”

“The organization I belong to is similar. My particular affiliation is aptly called the ‘Dragon Riders,’ and ever since the War…well a little before the War, we have been tracking international terrorist organizations. Some organizations had direct ties to Voldemort outside of Britain, other terrorists organizations began to follow Voldemort’s example, or began in opposition of Voldemort…as vigilante groups.”

We moved into the second garden, the flowers glowing in the red sky of the late day.

“Like W.A.T.C.H.”

“Exactly.”

I licked my lips. “That’s why you’re here.”

Charlie nodded, his ginger hair almost the color of blood in the light. His face was set, serious and grave.

“You did not go into hiding with your family because you have been working?”

Charlie nodded again. “Ron would have been here…at every scene, if Harry had not targeted him…and killed George…”

Charlie’s voice was tight when he said Harry and George’s name, and I could tell that there was not only sadness in Charlie, but vengeful anger as well. Charlie was a very strong man, not just because he had a sturdier build, or that he had worked with dragons, but because he could keep his emotions in check. I had never gotten well acquainted with Charlie, he being away so much, and usually inundated with other people’s attentions when he was in Britain. But I liked Charlie, I trusted Charlie, and as we moved into the arboretum, I was thankful for Charlie’s presence.

“How are you getting on with Malfoy?”

I slowed my pace, pulling my hand from his arm. Charlie turned, his sapphire eyes questioning.

“I don’t want to talk about Malfoy, just yet, Charlie… There’s something I want to know first.”

Charlie breathed in through his nose, and flicked his eyes to the cobbled path.

“I think I already know what you’re going to ask Hermione…”

I smirked. “Harry and W.A.T.C.H.?”

“Yes…”

Charlie stuffed his hands into the pockets of his dragon hide trousers…which cost more than I made in a year, I was sure.

“If you think about it, Hermione, is it so hard to believe that people would rally to Harry?”

“But he’s killed innocent people, Charlie. He’s mad…”

“Not everyone sees it that way, luv. People outside of Britain still remember him as the Boy-Who-Lived…the boy who defeated Voldemort. Even some people inside the country love him blindly because he defeated their concept of ‘evil.’ Fanatics, extremists, and so many others have used Harry ever since he started to Hogwarts…and now when things are still so unstable, when the Ministry is reforming and the Old Corruption is being purged, people are doing, and believing things, they would not have believed or done before…

Harry has always been a sharp guy. Even if he is mad, he knows how to manipulate people to achieve a desired end. In this case, he has had some inside help, someone who is very familiar with the Malfoys, and that is what concerns us most.

Williamson and Malfoy have kept me apprized of all that has been happening with Harry. And by looking at the order of events…he needed a group to help him…and the W.A.T.C.H. was the perfect fit.”

I sighed, and shoved my hands into my pockets, my left hand brushing against the Invisibility Cloak.

“Narcissa knew some of them, and I recognized Cho Chang, but who were the others?”

Charlie stepped to my side and took my arm, pulling my right hand from the pocket to envelop it in the warmth of his side.

“Swedish, Bulgarian, Romanian, and Russian witches and wizards…all with strong ties to Britain. All with a reason to hate the Malfoys. That was what Harry probably used to motive them.”

I nodded. I could not tell Charlie that it was not the only reason why the Manor had been attacked.

We came to the wall, and in the distance, the windows of the groom’s quarters were lit with warm light.

“Let me ask again, Hermione…how are you getting on with Malfoy?” Charlie asked as we started along the earthen path.

“I don’t know,” I said honestly, my eyes falling to the spot in the field where Malfoy had scooped me up with my sprained ankle.

“He’s not a bad guy, Hermione. And I know that after everything that has been said between the Malfoys and my family, it might sound a little odd, but Malfoy is not a bad guy,” Charlie said softly and I glanced up to the side of his face.

“What is that supposed to mean, Charlie Weasley?” I asked with a well-humoured laugh.

Charlie grinned. “You’re taking it the wrong way, Hermione…I’m saying that no matter how he tells you about how ‘bad’ he is…he really isn’t.

He is as tough as dragon hide, and he knows an encyclopedia of spells, but deep down…he’s not all that terrible. I’ve drank with him a few times…believe me, he’s not a bad guy…” Charlie chuckled.

My face burned. I knew what Malfoy was like when drunk…

“The only problem with Malfoy, though, is that he is absolutely dedicated to his work. I mean, I love my job…even though I’m not working with dragons any more, I love it. I get to travel, meet knew people, see the world…but I always come home…I’ve a got a great girl in Cardiff…and Mum and Dad, I always go home to see them…I have a life outside of being a ‘Dragon Rider.’”

I smirked…Charlie had a ‘girl,’ that was a first. But whoever she was, I knew she was one lucky witch.

“Malfoy’s life is his work…that’s why I asked how you were getting on with him, Hermione.”

We were passing the gap to the hedge maze when he asked this.

“I…I really do not know, Charlie. But he hasn’t hurt me, or called me a Mudblood in a while. We can talk over coffee…so I guess that is a good sign?”

Charlie chuckled again as we came to the front of the stables.

“It is. He’ll protect you Hermione…it is his job, but I think it is more than that…but that’s all I’m going to say on the subject…” Charlie trailed as Malfoy limped from the shadows of the stables to meet us.

“Weasley,” Malfoy said in address, nodding.

“Malfoy…I’m to tell you that two Casters will be here later on to start warding…”

“No need, Weasley. I just need to activate the wards after you leave. You can tell Gumboil that on your way out…” Malfoy said gruffly, his left eye moving from where my hand was resting in Charlie’s arm to my face.

Charlie sighed and slowly released my hand. “Alright, Malfoy, but you had better expect that old Al is not going to be too happy with you.”

“When is he ever?” Malfoy asked with a devious sort of grin.

Charlie, who was prone to laughing, chuckled and clapped a hand on my shoulder, nearly knocking me over. “Keep an eye on her?” Charlie said to Malfoy.

“I only have the one, but whatever you say, Weasley…”

Charlie bade me a goodbye with a quick hug that was a commonplace form of parting for the Weasleys, and took off at a jog across the field to the path. I watched him even as the light faded, happy that I had seen him, and happy that he had been forthright with the truth.

“You need a bath, Granger, I can smell you from here,” Malfoy drawled, causing me to turn on my heel and face him.

Malfoy had seemingly bathed and changed, wearing a faded blue tee shirt that was almost threadbare, and a pair of ragged jeans with holes in the knees and around the pockets. In his back pocket, he had Severus’ wand, and strapped to his right forearm, Tom Riddle’s. He wore what looked to be the most ancient pair of boots I had ever seen, the uppers pulling free of the soles. He still wore the eye patch, and his hair was mussed and damp as if he had just dressed after a bath.

Malfoy looked like a boy…a handsome, one-eyed boy in Muggle clothing…while I…I looked like some medieval wench who had recently crawled through a pigsty.

I sighed at Malfoy’s words and moved past him and into the stables. “I’ll remedy that problem, then!” I called as I stomped up the steps to the apartments above. I sighed as I entered, kicking off my slippers, seeing that my other pair were just where I had left them under the bench. I doffed my coat, but held to the collar as I moved past the front windows, seeing that Malfoy was moving outside, with Severus’ wand in his hand. Activating the wards, I assumed.

I went into the bathroom, dropping my coat by the door and slipping my wands from my holster, placing them on the edge of the sink. Without further ado, I stripped out of my clothing, knowing that I would have to either wash and mend them myself, or destroy them. I opted for the latter, but would wait until I bathed first.

Finally, after what seemed like years, I sank down into the water of the small tub, citrus and sage pushing away the scent of mud, vomit, blood, and death. I had to refill the tub two times before my hair was clean, and I suddenly wished I my short hair again…