Author's Note: I really don't have a whole lot to say this time around. Yet another year of college will be starting soon for me, which might mean more delays, but I think we're all used to that by now. Anyway, thanks for the great reviews and as always, thanks to Nitya for being a wonderful beta reader.
CHAPTER SEVEN
HAUNTED BY A MEMORY
When he finally came to, Harry found himself on the Grangers' couch. He turned his head and muttered groggily, "How did I-"
"Shh," Hermione murmured from beside him, running her hand through his hair soothingly. "It's okay. Dad moved you here."
"Oh." He looked around to find them quite alone. "How long was I out?"
"About five minutes," she told him. "Harry, what did you see?"
He shook his head. "I didn't see anything. I just felt…anger. Intense anger. And I heard him screaming in my head."
"My immortality, my bloodline, my son," Hermione repeated. "What do you think happened to Voldemort's son?"
"I dunno," Harry said, sitting up. As he did so, Mr. and Mrs. Granger returned with a glass of water and what Harry took to be some smelling salts.
"Oh, thank the Lord, you're awake!" Mrs. Granger exclaimed.
"You gave us a good scare there, Harry," Mr. Granger said, looking pale.
"Sorry," he murmured.
"What happened?" Mrs. Granger asked, handing the water to Harry.
"Another failure at Occlumency, that's what," Harry muttered, annoyed with himself. He really needed to control his emotions better.
"What?"
Hermione frowned and rubbed Harry's shoulder. "Harry has a unique ability," she explained.
"More like a curse," Harry grumbled, taking a sip of the water.
"He can…see into the mind of the wizard who wishes to conquer the world. He is linked to the man that the wizarding world is at war with," Hermione said.
"War?" Mr. Granger stood, aghast. "Hermione, you've never mentioned a war."
She didn't answer him, but instead watched Harry intently. "Will you be alright?"
He nodded. "My scar doesn't hurt anymore. I should be fine." He sighed. "All I want to do is sleep."
"Do you think you'll get any nightmares?" she asked.
"I dunno," he murmured. "I hope not. I just have to keep my mind clear. I should be fine if I can just keep my mind clear."
"What's going on here?" Mr. Granger demanded. "What war?"
Hermione sighed. "The wizarding world is at war, Dad," she explained. "A very evil wizard, who tried to kill Harry when he was just a baby, has come back into power."
Mr. Granger stood, shocked. Then he looked at Harry warily. "And this...evil wizard isn't still trying to kill Harry, is he?" When Hermione didn't answer, he paled. "Well, that would explain why you always seem so concerned about him."
"Professor Dumbledore cast some charms on our house when he came over. And I doubt Voldemort would come looking for him here anyway," Hermione said. "Muggles are beneath him. Our house would not be the first place he would think of in order to find Harry."
Both Mr. and Mrs. Granger did not look very convinced, but Mrs. Granger gave a rather resigned nod and said, "I'm sure you're right." She then gave Harry a rather motherly smile. "Don't worry, dear, we'll try to keep you safe."
Privately, Harry believed they wouldn't stand a minute against a Death Eater, let alone Voldemort, but he gave them a small nod and said, "Thanks." He got up. "I think I'm going to go to bed now. Er-thanks for everything."
"You're welcome," Mrs. Granger replied.
Hermione went with him as he left the room and headed upstairs. When they reached the doorway to his bedroom, she kissed him on the cheek and murmured, "Good night, Harry. Try to sleep well."
The feeling of her lips on his cheek lingered and he managed a small grin. "I will. Good night, Hermione."
*****
Harry did have a dreamless slumber that night and when he woke up the next morning, he felt a lot better. He was just climbing out of bed when there was a knock on his bedroom door.
"Harry? Are you awake?" Hermione asked from behind it.
"Yeah," he said, walking over and opening the door. "Just woke up."
"Oh. Er-I just wanted to remind you of Percy's ceremony this morning," she said. "How are you feeling?"
"I'm fine. What time is the ceremony?"
"Eleven o'clock. We've got a few hours."
He nodded as his stomach growled. "Can we whip up some breakfast first?"
"Mum's already on it," Hermione told him. "She and Dad will be leaving soon to go to work."
"Then we better hurry," he said.
After breakfast, Harry and Hermione went to their rooms and got dressed for the ceremony. Harry fidgeted slightly as he examined himself in his black dress robes, the same dress robes he had worn when he took Hermione to the Yule Ball during the last school year. Apparently he had grown a half-inch since he had last worn them.
Hermione's parents had left for work already when he went down to the sitting room to wait for Hermione. He settled down onto the couch and waited a full five minutes before Hermione came down the stairs, looking rather solemn in black too. It occurred to Harry that, had Ron been with them, he would have teased her for taking so long, but Harry didn't feel up to it. He did, however, recognize the possible reason for Hermione's delay; her hair, which she normally left down, was pulled into a half ponytail and clipped securely. Knowing her, she probably spent five minutes fussing over it for the simple reason that she never did much with her hair in the first place.
He checked his watch to see that it was a little past 10:00. "Er-when are we leaving?" he asked her.
"The network won't be open until at least ten-fifteen." She sat down next to him. "It's still hard to believe that we're going to the ceremony of a Weasley. I had hoped that I'd never have to go to one, at least, not to one that's the result of this war."
He wrapped an arm around her. "It will be alright."
"Will it be, Harry?" she asked, turning towards him. "Will everything be alright again? Will any of this end?"
He wanted to give her hope, but when he found that he had none, he decided not to lie to her, or himself. "I don't know," he murmured.
They lapsed into silence and waited for the minutes to tick past so that the Floo network would open for them. Then, at 10:15 exactly, they both got up and walked over to the fireplace. Hermione opened a little box that Harry hadn't noticed she was holding.
"There's only enough for one trip, so I think that means we'll have to go together," she told him.
"No problem," he said, stepping into the fireplace.
Hermione joined him. "Here," she said, "take some." She tipped half of the box's contents into his hand. She dumped the rest of the Floo powder into hers. "Ready then?"
"As I'll ever be," he replied. Then, as one, they threw their powder down and shouted, "The Ministry of Magic!"
Green flames engulfed both of them and Harry once again felt the spinning of his own body that he had grown to despise. He could vaguely sense Hermione spinning somewhere next to him. Fireplace after fireplace passed and soon they were slowing down until finally they settled into one of the fireplaces inside the Ministry of Magic. With a cough, Harry jumped out before offering a hand to help Hermione.
"Thanks," she murmured, accepting it and pulling herself out.
"Now where do we go?" Harry asked as he began to dust the ash off of himself.
"I'm not sure," she replied, also dusting herself off.
Suddenly they heard a familiar voice calling for them. "Harry! Hermione! There you are!"
They turned and saw their best friend, Ron Weasley, along with his younger sister Ginny, running towards them.
"Ron," Hermione greeted, giving him a hug. Then she turned to Ginny and did the same. "Hi, Ginny."
"Hey, Ron," Harry said warmly before nodding in greeting towards his sister. "Ginny."
"How are both of you?" Hermione asked.
"We're okay," Ron said. "The past few weeks have been a little rough."
"I'll bet."
"Mum cries practically every hour. Everyone's returned home."
"Which makes Percy's absence that much more notable when we're all sitting together at the dinner table," Ginny said. "No one ever had much of a problem with it before, but that was because we knew there was some remote possibility that he could join us if he wanted. Now…"
"I know," Hermione said quietly, placing a comforting arm around the youngest Weasley.
"Well, we better show you to the room," Ron said, and started to guide them. "It's bigger than the one Sirius's was in, but that's because there's a lot more people coming to this one. All the people Percy's sucked up to here are coming, I guess."
"Are there going to be any people there that we'll know?" Harry asked.
"Oh sure. Besides the family, Dumbledore's here, Lupin, Hagrid, McGonagall, Moody, Kingsley…Hey, do you remember Penelope Clearwater, Percy's ex-girlfriend?" Ron asked.
"Yeah, but I didn't know that she was an ex," Harry said.
"Has been for years. Got sick of Percy's pompousness, I presume," Ron said. "Anyway, she's here too."
"That's nice of her," Hermione commented.
"Yeah, I guess." He led them to the lifts, pressed a button, and waited. "It's just so weird."
"What is?" Harry asked.
"Being here, for this. For my brother." He balled his fists at his sides. "We shouldn't be here. This shouldn't have happened."
Harry thought back to a year prior when he had to deal with his grief over losing Sirius. He, more than anyone, understood what the Weasleys were going through. "I know how you feel," he murmured.
Hermione reached over and gave Ron's shoulder a comforting squeeze.
Ginny sniffed loudly. "It's not fair."
The golden grilled doors to the lift opened and admitted them. They stepped inside, as did several other witches and wizards. One witch was holding a box with several holes in it. Harry swore he saw a long leg briefly poke out of one.
The four of them remained quiet while the lift took them down. When they reached level five, Ron motioned for them to get off. They squeezed their way through the others and entered a tidy looking corridor.
"International Magical Cooperation," Ron muttered. "Of course they're spick and span."
"Why are the rooms for…death ceremonies on this level?" Harry asked. When he had been there the year previous, he had traveled by Portkey to and from the ceremony. He never saw anything outside of the room that it was in.
"Dunno," Ron answered. "I guess because all of the international ministers and stuff come to this floor, so the rooms are the nicest." He shrugged.
They walked down the corridor, took a left, then a right. Finally, they arrived at a large wood paneled room that resembled a conference room. Like before, the tables were draped in black table covers, except there was now the added touch of candles on each table. Ron and Ginny led them inside.
Fred and George, Ron's older twin brothers, were the first two to notice Harry and Hermione's arrival. They jumped up and shook Harry's hand enthusiastically before doing the same to Hermione.
"Good to see you two," Fred said.
"Having a nice summer?" George asked.
"Alright," Harry replied. He noticed that both twins had trimmed their hair and were without any of their usual magical gimmicks. "No toys today?"
Fred shook his head. "While we'd love to, Mum would kill us-"
"-Mind that we don't take orders from her these days-" George added.
"-But she has enough stress as it is," Fred finished.
"Although I thought it might be funny to conjure up a moustache and put it on Percy," George said, nodding towards the front of the room, where Percy's casket stood on a dais.
Hermione looked mortified at that idea. "You'd do that to…to…"
George frowned at her. "I was only joking, Hermione. Even I'm not that sick."
"It wasn't funny, George," Ginny said and then walked away.
Fred patted his twin's shoulder. "Rough crowd, eh George?"
"I guess," replied the twin.
"Look, there's Tonks. Maybe she's not in such a somber mood," Fred said.
"If her hair has anything to say about her mood, I don't think she is," George said and they took off. Harry glanced over at their new target to see that she was sporting wavy gold hair with pink streaks in them.
"Gits," Ron muttered as Mr. Weasley came over to them.
"Good, you're back. Hello, Harry. Hello, Hermione," he murmured. Harry and Hermione both made their greeting. Harry couldn't help but notice how…crumpled Mr. Weasley looked. He looked as though he hadn't eaten or slept for days. He also looked like he had lost more hair.
He turned and gestured to where his wife was talking to Remus Lupin. "You should go say hello to Molly. It would probably do her good to see you two."
Hermione nodded. "Of course. Coming, Harry?"
"Yeah," he replied and followed her over to Mrs. Weasley.
Lupin was the one to acknowledge them first. "Harry, Hermione, hello!"
"Professor," they greeted in unison.
Mrs. Weasley turned and her eyes watered some. "Oh, Harry, Hermione…thank you for coming," she said and wrapped both of them in a large embrace.
"We wouldn't dream of doing otherwise," Hermione said.
"We'd never forgive ourselves if we didn't come," Harry said as Mrs. Weasley squeezed them tighter, making him start to lose feeling in the arm.
"Oh, I'm so happy you were able to make it, Harry," Mrs. Weasley said once she released them. "Arthur and I told Dumbledore that we wouldn't have this ceremony unless he figured out some way for you to come. We wanted you to be here so much. You and Hermione are like another son and daughter to me."
He felt himself go red, but was relieved to see that Hermione was just as red. "I-er-well, I owe all of that to Hermione and her parents, really, for taking me in," he mumbled.
"Yes, yes, that was so good of the Grangers to save you from your aunt and uncle. We would have done it ourselves, as always, but…"
"Don't worry, I understand. You should spend the time alone, as a family."
She gave him a watery smile. "You're such a kind, thoughtful, selfless young man."
Harry, if possible, went redder still. "I just want what's best for you and your family. Besides," he added, "I'll be okay. I've got Hermione." He glanced over at her in time to see her give him a small smile.
"I'm sure you two will have a fine summer," she said. She looked past them to see Mr. Weasley motioning her over. "Oh, I've got to go see what Arthur needs. I'll talk to you later."
When she left, they turned to Lupin, but he was engrossed in a conversation with Mad-Eye Moody.
"I think I'm going to go over and talk to Ginny some more," Hermione said.
"Yeah, alright," Harry murmured. He turned to go back to Ron, but nearly collided with Albus Dumbledore, the headmaster of Hogwarts, instead. "Oh! Professor Dumbledore! I'm sorry!"
"No, no, not to worry, Harry. I hope I didn't startle you," said the wise old man. He wore robes of deep purple and a hat that matched. His blue eyes sparkled behind the half moon spectacles that sat on his crooked nose.
"Not at all, sir."
"Good. How are you? How has your summer been going?"
"Oh, fine," Harry said with a smile. "Thanks for letting me go to the Grangers."
"You had spent enough time at your aunt and uncle's. Besides, as of your birthday, the spell would be broken."
"Is that why you let me go?"
"That, and because Miss Granger was so insistent…and persistent," he said with a grin.
Harry chuckled. "Persistent is a good way to describe her."
"It can be an excellent quality to have." Then his features sobered. "I have a question to ask you, Harry."
"What?"
"Have you had anymore dreams, or anything else related with Voldemort?" Dumbledore asked.
Harry glanced away guiltily. "Last night, before I went to bed. He was very angry." He looked back up at Dumbledore, but saw neither disappointment nor anger. Instead there was a look of satisfaction.
"I'm sure he was."
Harry stared at him. "Sir, what happened? What happened to his son? Did you take him?" he asked eagerly.
"Young Seth was successfully removed from Malfoy Manor last night by a few good Order members who are sneaky enough to actually do it," Dumbledore told him.
"Then where is he now?"
"He is currently tucked away in a safe location." When Harry gave him a wary look, he smiled. "No, he's not at headquarters. He's at an even safer location. I have two people who will look after him for the time being. He will not be tainted by his father."
"I'm glad to hear that," Harry murmured. But then a thought struck Harry, a thought that tugged at his own heart. "These people, though, will they be keeping him?"
Dumbledore shook his head. "I have asked these two to watch over him until I can find someone else willing to look after him."
"So then he's just going to float from home to home?" Harry asked, indignity creeping into him.
"Until I can find an extremely safe location for him to be raised by a family that will love him," Dumbledore said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I won't let him be a foster child, moving from family to family to family. I will make sure he finds a home where he will be loved."
Harry looked down at his shoes and nodded. He was happy to hear Dumbledore say that. The baby may have been the son of his arch nemesis, but Harry knew what it was like to grow up in a family that didn't want him. He wouldn't wish that on his worst enemy.
He looked up to see people heading towards the tables that had been set up.
"Ah, it must be almost time for the ceremony to begin. We should take our seats," Dumbledore said.
"Yes, sir," Harry agreed, just as Ron joined him.
"Mum and Dad want you and Hermione to sit at our table," he told Harry.
"Okay. Thanks." He turned to Professor Dumbledore. "I'll see you after the ceremony, sir," he said, before following Ron to the Weasleys' table as the celebration for what was Percy's life began.
*****
Hours later, Harry and Hermione found themselves stepping out of the fireplace at her home. She sighed as they began to dust themselves off.
Harry glanced over at her. "What's wrong?"
"Oh, nothing. I think the ceremony just got to me. It was so heartbreaking to see the Weasleys in such pain," she murmured, frowning.
He reached over and wrapped an arm around her.
"I feel the exact same way I felt last year watching you sit through Sirius's ceremony."
His arm around her tightened.
She looked down at her clothing. "I'm-er-all dusty. I think I'll go upstairs and change."
"Yeah, that's a good idea," Harry said and followed her up the stairs.
Five minutes later he heard a knock on his door as he pulled on a t-shirt. "Come in," he called.
Hermione walked in, leaving the door open. "Mum and Dad won't be back for a few hours," she told him. "I was wondering what you wanted to do."
"Oh. Er-" He looked around. "Actually, I've been here for about two days now and I still haven't settled in yet. D'you want to help me?"
"Sure. Do you want to empty out your trunk?" she asked.
"Yeah," he replied, moving over to open the lid.
They shifted through his clothes and placed them in the wardrobe before sorting through his school supplies. Then Hermione took out a wrapped parcel. "What's this?" she asked.
Harry looked at the parcel and felt the air tighten in his chest. He knew exactly what it was. "It's-er-er…"
"Can I open it?" she asked.
"Er-I-er-I guess," he said quietly. Quite frankly, he really didn't want to see the object again.
Hermione carefully unwrapped the parcel and let it slide out onto Harry's desk. Both of them stared at it.
"A broken mirror?"
He frowned. "Yes, a mirror."
She turned towards him. "Who…" Then realization dawned on her face. "Sirius. Sirius gave this to you, didn't he?"
"Yes. For Christmas during our fifth year. It's a two-way mirror. He said all I had to do was say his name and he'd appear, so that we could talk." A small smile played over his lips. "He said him and my dad used to use them when they had separate detentions."
"Oh, Harry," she murmured, stepping closer to him.
"I was so mad when he died. I threw it and it broke," he said quietly. He scooped up the mirror and rewrapped it. "I really don't want to think about this right now."
She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him in a hug. "Okay."
They stayed there like that, in each other's embrace, for an eternity.
*****
Before Harry fell asleep that night, he made absolutely sure to clear his mind. He drained himself of all of his thoughts and emotions before drifting off into a peaceful slumber.
It did not stay very peaceful for long.
A loud, piercing scream jerked him awake. He jumped into a sitting position, wide-eyed, until he realized where the screaming was coming from.
Hermione!
He snatched up his glasses and then launched himself out of bed, out the door, and down the hall to Hermione's room. There was no knocking. He burst into the room just as Hermione's parents turned on a light and stumbled out of their bedroom. In the dim light, he could see Hermione thrashing about in her bed. Four quick strides and he was at her side.
"Hermione," he said, trying to grab her by the shoulders.
She jerked away and fought against him as he tried to gather her up. "No…" she whimpered.
"Hermione!" he said, more urgently. He was vaguely aware of the fact that her parents were standing in her doorway.
"Please, no…" Hermione cried, trying to free herself as Harry managed to grab her by the shoulders.
"Hermione, wake up!" Harry yelled, shaking her.
It was then that her eyes suddenly snapped open. She stared wildly at his face. "Harry?" she croaked.
"Yes, yes," he said.
She burst into tears and clung to him when he crushed her against him. "Harry."
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Mrs. Granger make a movement to enter the room, but Mr. Granger held her back. Harry wrapped his arms tighter around Hermione and began to rock her. He pressed his face into to her hair and murmured, "You're alright. You're okay. I'm here. It was just a nightmare." He could smell a faint whiff of lilac in her hair.
Her breath came out in a shudder. "I was there again. He was there again."
Harry wanted to curse loudly.
"He was there in his mask. His eyes were so vivid. Oh God!" She turned and sobbed into his shoulder.
Harry tried not to tremble with rage. Crow. She had a nightmare about the night Crow had kidnapped her. The night she was tortured by Death Eaters in a cemetery. The night Percy had died.
"He…he…"
"Shh…he's gone now. He can't hurt you anymore," Harry murmured. At that moment, Harry wished that Crow hadn't killed himself because he would have liked nothing more than the pleasure of doing it himself. He wished that he could make Crow pay for what he did to Hermione.
"I don't…I can't…"
"Shh." He rubbed her back to calm her. "It's okay."
She hiccupped a sob. "Harry."
"Don't worry. I'm here."
He held her until her sobs subsided, when she seemed to be drained. She lifted her head to look at him as he caressed her cheek. Then he became painfully aware of the fact that her parents were still behind him, watching them. "Are you okay now?"
She sniffed loudly, but nodded. "I think so," she said in a small voice.
"Okay." He let her go. "I'm going to go-"
"No!" she cried and suddenly clung to him once more. "No, please. Please don't leave me."
He turned his head in time to see her father go rigid beside his wife.
"I can't-I don't want to be alone tonight. I don't want to have another nightmare," she pleaded.
Harry closed his eyes. Then he opened them just in time to see Mrs. Granger place a hand on her husband's arm. They both turned and left, closing the door behind them.
He frowned. "Alright, I'll stay. I'll sleep on the floor."
He got up and took a quilt that was on the back of Hermione's desk chair before laying it on the floor. Hermione then gave him both a pillow and her comforter. He laid down and rested his head against the pillow. It too smelled faintly of lilac. He rolled onto his side as the light across the hall went out.
Suddenly, an arm wrapped around him as he felt something touch the base of his neck. He rolled over to see Hermione lying there beside him. Gently, he pulled her into his arms and held her until they both drifted off to sleep.
*****
The next morning was very awkward for Harry when he arrived in the Grangers' kitchen. He had woken up with Hermione still wrapped in his arms, fast asleep. After carefully getting up without waking her, he went downstairs to the kitchen to maybe have some orange juice. However, both Mr. and Mrs. Granger were already there.
He cleared his throat. "Morning," he murmured.
"Good morning, Harry," Mrs. Granger said.
Mr. Granger gave him a slight nod in greeting as he continued to sip his juice.
"Hungry?" Mrs. Granger asked.
"Well, yes," he said, trying to hide his nerves. After all, he had, quite literally, slept with their daughter.
"We have some muffins," Mrs. Granger said, gesturing to a basket sitting on the table. "Help yourself."
"Thanks," he murmured, walking over to the muffin basket.
Mr. Granger cleared his throat. "Did Hermione sleep through the rest of the night?"
Harry dropped the hand that had just begun to reach for a muffin. "Yes, sir. Didn't stir once." Then he asked them something that had been bothering him since he had felt Hermione fall asleep in his arms. "How often has she had these nightmares?"
Mrs. Granger frowned. "Every night since she arrived home, until Saturday, when you arrived. We had hoped that they were gone forever, but…"
"Why is she having these nightmares, Harry?" Mr. Granger demanded. "She told you more last night than she's ever told us. She wouldn't even discuss them with us."
Harry shifted uncomfortably. He recalled the fact that Hermione hid a lot of what happened at Hogwarts, and the wizarding world, from her parents. He didn't know whether or not he should tell them.
"I…If Hermione hasn't told you, then I don't think I should be the one to do so," he said evenly.
"But then you know what's happened, don't you?" Mr. Granger accused. "You know why she's getting these nightmares."
"Yes, I do," Harry said. He frowned. Maybe he could give up a little bit of the information they wanted. "Her nightmares entail the night Percy Weasley was murdered."
"How would she know anything about that? She wasn't there, was she?"
Harry remained silent.
Mr. Granger's eyes went wide. "She was? How…why was she there? What happened?"
"It's something Hermione should tell you, not me," he told them.
"Why hasn't she told us already?" Mr. Granger asked.
Harry grimaced. He hated this. He really hated this. "I think it's because she's afraid," he said. "I think she's afraid that, if she told you everything that happens while we're away at Hogwarts, you'd both go mad and try to pull her out of school, and she loves it there."
Both Mr. and Mrs. Granger stared at Harry. "What exactly goes on in that school, Harry?" Mr. Granger asked.
He shook his head. "I can't tell you. I won't break Hermione's trust. It is, as it should be, up to her to tell you. I'm sorry."
Mr. Granger rubbed his temples. "You're a very loyal friend, I'll give you that, Harry."
At a time like that, Harry felt that was the greatest compliment he could get from Hermione's father. "Thank you, sir."
"And you obviously care a great deal about our daughter," Mrs. Granger added. "What you did last night…neither of us could have possibly have had such an effect on her." She looked down at her toes. "I'm grateful you're here with us, Harry."
And that was possibly the greatest compliment he could have received from Hermione's mother. "Thank you, ma'am."
She gave him a small smile. "Now go on, grab yourself a muffin and some orange juice."
He grinned. "Thanks."
Mr. Granger opened the newspaper and started to read it while Harry grabbed a muffin before heading over to the cabinets to find himself a glass. "My God," Mr. Granger murmured in shock and awe.
"What is it, dear?" Mrs. Granger asked idly.
Mr. Granger turned the front page of the paper around for Mrs. Granger to read. "A huge fire last night in Manchester."
Harry spun around. "What?"
Mrs. Granger gasped. "It engulfed nearly an eighth of the city. My, did you read how many casualties? I wonder what started it all."
Mr. Granger had turned the paper back around to keep reading. "A warehouse." He frowned. "The Manchester fire department believes it to be arson."
Suddenly they heard pounding coming down the stairs. Hermione, her hair bushy as ever, ran into the kitchen, clutching that morning's copy of the Daily Prophet. "Harry!" she breathed. "Come here."
Mr. and Mrs. Granger watched them as Harry quickly stepped out of the kitchen and followed Hermione up the stairs and to her room.
"He's attacked again," she said, showing the Prophet to him.
"Manchester," he said, frowning. "The Muggle paper is also reporting it." He looked at the front page of the paper. There was a picture of buildings aflame and the Dark Mark high in the sky. "I'm sure the Muggle paper failed to get a picture of that, though."
Hermione turned the paper back around and read the article over quickly before uttering, "Yes."
Harry stared at her in awe. "What?"
"Six Death Eaters were captured by Aurors who were already stationed in Manchester," she told him. "I'm sure that's Dumbledore's influence, especially after you told him what Voldemort was planning."
"Were any of the Death Eaters the Lestrange brothers?" Harry asked.
Hermione read on and frowned. "No."
"So then they'll move on to the next town," Harry said.
Hermione's frown only deepened. Then her brows drew together in thought. "Wait…"
"What?"
"Do you think any of this has anything to do with the other night-with what happened to Voldemort's son?" she asked.
"What do you mean?"
"Harry-Voldemort's son was taken, wasn't he?"
"Yes…Dumbledore had the Order extract him from Malfoy Manor," Harry said, trying to follow Hermione's line of thought.
"Well it's obvious, isn't it? Why this happened?" she said.
Harry frowned. "He's pissed, so he ordered the attack to take place."
She opened the paper. "I wonder if any other horrible things took place last night."
Harry felt his anger boil. Countless of innocent civilians had died because of the removal of Voldemort's son. All of it could have been prevented had Dumbledore not had Seth taken away.
Then he closed his eyes and chided himself. No, it wasn't Dumbledore's fault. Manchester was slated to be attacked anyway. It was going to happen. Dumbledore probably knew the reaction that would be elicited the moment he decided to get Seth out of his father's clutches, and he had prepared for it the best he could. Six Death Eaters, who probably wouldn't have been caught at all, were now going to Azkaban.
Hermione reached out and took his hand in hers. He opened his eyes and stared into hers, feeling her compassion and understanding surround him. "I'm sure there wasn't anything more that Dumbledore could do."
He let a small laugh escape past his lips. "That's exactly what I was thinking." He looked down at their joined hands and drew her closer. "I never asked…how are you feeling this morning?"
She shifted uncomfortably, but her hand didn't leave his. "I'm better." She looked over at the comforter and blankets they had slept on. "Thank you for staying with me last night. I know you really didn't want to, but it really meant-"
"No, I wanted to," he said, placing his other hand on her face, rubbing his thumb over her cheek. When she blushed, he elaborated. "I didn't want you to have another nightmare. It makes me sick knowing that you've been suffering."
A tear slid down her cheek and he brushed it away. Then, impulse guiding him, he pressed his lips softly to hers. She responded in kind and for a brief moment, neither of them let their troubles plague them. Then he pulled away. Nothing was official between them, and he shouldn't take advantage of the situation. He cleared his throat and asked, "Anything else in the paper that's interesting?"
Hermione frowned, but said nothing. She went back to the Prophet, turned the page, and let out a gasp.
"What?" he demanded.
"Oh my God," she whispered.
He stepped behind her and scanned the paper over her shoulder. Then his eyes went wide as he read one of the headlines.
Death Eater's Wife Found Dead
Early this morning Aurors responded to a distress owl proclaiming that the Dark Mark was floating over Malfoy Manor, former home of escaped Death Eater Lucius Malfoy. When Aurors entered the home, they found Narcissa Malfoy, wife of the known Death Eater, dead at the bottom of a stairwell. Rumors that she was murdered by the Killing Curse are unconfirmed.
There is much speculation already as to why the Death Eater's wife was killed, including whether or not Lucius Malfoy is still a Death Eater. The Aurors are investigating at this time.
"Narcissa Malfoy is dead," Hermione murmured. "I can't believe it." She turned to Harry. "Do you think it's true? Do you think Lucius Malfoy is no longer a Death Eater?"
Harry ran a hand through his hair. "I don't know. She did fail to protect Seth. Voldemort is the type to punish everyone in a family, too." He frowned. "Hermione? Is it bad that I don't feel anything? That I'm not mad or disgusted or…anything?"
She shook her head. "That family has done horrible things. It's only natural."
"I suppose." He took the paper from her and tossed it in her wastebasket. "Enough of that. The sad part of our summer is over. We should have some fun. We deserve it."
She smiled. "You're right, we do. Come on, Harry, let's go find something fun to do."
"Excellent. But it better not deal with studying," he said.
Her laughter echoed down the hallway as they headed towards the stairs.