By Reason Of Birth

Chapter 32 Nott Guilty

It was with slight trepidation that Ron and Harry arrived at Nott Cottage the next afternoon. Hermione had assured them that she and Brisco has spoken and everything would be fine, but neither were convinced. They were met at the door by her house-elf, and Ron shook his head in amusement. After all of the time Hermione had spent on spew- er, S.P.E.W., he found it hilarious that she had her own house-elf.

“Thank you, Lammy. I can take it from here,” Hermione said as she appeared in the doorway. In response, the elf gave a curtsey and disappeared.

They were barely in the door when Brisco’s booming voice came from the ballroom. “Hermione, please escort your friends to the ballroom.” Hermione looked at her friends and rolled her eyes. He had already told her three times to store their things there, and she hadn’t forgotten.

“Put your bags over there,” she said as she pointed to the pile that the Nott’s had ready to go.

“Good afternoon, Harry,” Brisco addressed, “Mister Weasley.” Ron turned to face him, looking slightly scared, but with his back straight and defiant nonetheless. “I must apologise for how I treated you the other night. You were a guest in my home at my behest, and I should have been a better host. You are one of my daughter’s closest friends, and while I am indifferent to whether you care for me or not, for Hermione’s sake, I hope we can at least be cordial, if not even amicable.”

Ron, for his part, was shocked at this olive branch. He had been hoping for the man to just ignore him at best. The idea that he would apologise hadn’t even occurred to him. “I think I can handle that,” Ron replied, taking the outstretched hand for a firm handshake.

“We’ll be leaving for the Portkey in half an hour, so you kids be back here in twenty-five minutes; and Hermione, please stop to remind Theo of the time. We’ll be meeting the Belby’s there, since they are the only other family in the area with tickets, and we do not want to be late.”

“Yes, sir,” Hermione responded, pulling her friends from the room.

They ended up joining Theo in his room, where they talked excitedly about the Cup, and the party that would be going on in their tent that night.

“Though, if Viktor hadn’t sent tickets, there would be nothing that would get me to go,” Hermione commented. “There is absolutely nothing that could get me to sit anywhere near Dolohov.”

The three boys exchanged a look, but it was Harry who spoke. “Hermione, have you been reading the Prophet lately?”

“Well, not every day and not front to back. Why?”

“Dolohov is dead,” he informed her. “He was found last week in his home.” Harry sounded as though he was hesitating to say more, but with one glare form Hermione, he continued on. “He was tortured before he was killed, but there was no evidence at all to point to who his murderer might be.”

“So… he’s really dead; it was really him?” she asked. She was relieved, but also felt guilty that she was relieved over someone’s death, even if it was Dolohov.

More pressing, though, was the fear that she knew exactly who had committed the gruesome murder. “Ron, Harry, can you go to my room for a few minutes? I need to talk to Theo alone.”

Ron looked disgruntled at the request, thinking that she should prefer to talk to her friends after news like that, but Harry silenced his protestations with a look as he shooed Ron out the room while he followed behind. As Harry had had the same suspicions since he had read the article, he knew why she wanted to speak to her brother.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked lowly, her eyes boring into his.

“It was in the paper, for all I knew you had read it and chose not to say anything,” he defended.

“Bull. You knew I didn’t know,” Hermione said, taking a deep breath. “Did Brisco do it? Did he torture and kill Dolohov because of me?” she asked, her voice quavering.

“If he did, he didn’t tell me,” Theo responded, putting his arm around her shoulders.

“Are you lying to me?” she asked, suspiciously.

“No, I’m not lying to you,” he responded, rolling his eyes at her. “But if you even think of telling me you’re upset he’d dead, then you’ll be the one lying.”

“Well, I’ve only just found out, obviously, but no, I’m not upset he’s dead. Relieved, actually, would be more accurate. What upsets me is that he was probably killed because of me.”

“Glad you see it my way,” Theo said before glancing sideways at her. “You really need to get that ego under control, though. Next thing we know you’ll be expecting us to only refer to you as Hermione Nott- the smartest girl in all the land,” he teased, motioning his spread hands in an arc.

“Shut up, you prat.” Hermione’s glare was not very effective, though, and Theo cracked up as soon as the ghost of a smile twitched the corners of her mouth.

“Hey!” he yelled as he landed on the floor, ousted from his bed by a shove from his sister.

Harry and Ron suddenly burst into the room, only to find Theo on the floor, one of his feet resting on the edge of his bed, and Hermione doubled over in laughter. “is everything okay?” Harry needlessly asked.

Hermione nodded through her giggles as Theo pulled himself to stand. “In that case, we should probably head upstairs before Brisco sends one of the elves,” Harry observed, while Ron chuckled at the two, having had many such instances happen between him and his siblings.

“Yes, we should,” Hermione agreed, still chuckling. One look at Theo, though, had her grab hold of Ron’s arm as she hastened through the door and away from possible retaliation.

Left alone to make their way upstairs, Harry turned to look Theo in the eye. “Did Brisco do it? And don’t give me whatever evasion or lie you used on Hermione if he did.”

Theo looked deep into Harry’s eyes, as though he was trying to decipher something that was hidden in their depths. Having come to some sort of conclusion, he gave his head a sharp nod. “Yes. Hermione and Mum were at Saturday tea. When he came home, he was slightly off, and he had an air about him that hadn’t been there since you killed the Dark Lord. The article was in the paper three days later, and I just knew,” Theo said, lowly, a weight lifting from his chest. “She can’t know. Ever,” he continued, his voice hard and demanding but his eyes pleading.

“No one will find out about it from me,” Harry assured him, and the two quickened their steps to catch up with Hermione and Ron.

Chapter End Notes:
alrighty, thanks to the readers and the reviewers and to lupie.