Story Title: Time, Interrupted
Chapter Title: Luck
Author: Madm_05
Rating: Strong PG-13/T
Warnings: Horcrux Ahoy
Chapter Word Count: 5,473
Date: 21 June 2008
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and everyone else from Potterverse belong to JKR.
Chapter Twenty Seven: Luck
Just had he said, neither Harry nor Ron were caught. Draco's fall was declared an accident, so extra measures were taken to ensure nothing of the sort ever happened again, and no one guessed that it was anything more. There were no spells against clumsiness, but it was possible to prevent jinxes, should anyone steal a wand, and was spelled against any traps the others may leave.
Draco himself had become more withdrawn upon his return to school. He lost a great deal of his arrogance, but privately Hermione was sure it was not the end of it. Nearly dying may have knocked some sense into him, but she also knew the effects may well be detrimental in the future.
Hermione shivered every time she remembered Harry's words- accidents happen- but there was nothing she could really do. Harry was likely to see any confrontation as an act of betrayal on her part. She didn't want to consider the consequences of such actions.
The cynical voice lurking in the darkest corner of her mind reminded her that Harry was very possessive, and that he was fiercely protective of what her perceived as being 'his'. She has seen his possessiveness first hand in her sixth year- it was hard to miss the angry look in his eyes every time Ginny had kissed Dean. It was part of his character, and there was nothing she could do to change his personality.
Instead, she had focused heavily on curbing his Darker tendencies. Pranks were closely monitored, and dangerous pranks were forbidden altogether. Whenever the chance arose, Hermione would remind Harry that Dudley was a bully, and that he should strive to be different from his cousin. Still, she wasn't sure it was enough. There had to be more she could do to make him understand that it wasn't okay to protect her if another was going to be hurt or worse.
Hermione resolutely pushed her dark thoughts away. It wasn't the time. There were other, more important things for her to do, like laugh at Ron.
"How did the two of you talk me into this again?" Ron asked, mortified, as he stared woefully at a mirror. "I don't look like an elf, I look like a pixie!"
Hermione and Harry shared a look then smothered their grins. "You said that you wanted to meet Santa Clause," Hermione said. "And if you want to do that, then you have to help him."
"And if you're going to help him, then you have to dress like an elf," Harry added. "This way the muggles won't find out. Besides, it's not really that bad. Hermione and I did it last year."
"But do I have to wear the tights?" He moaned. "Do I?"
Harry chuckled. "Of course you do. I am going to wear them, too."
Hermione, already dressed, watched the two boys banter back and forth. She could hardly believe it was Christmas time already. She was glad that they would be going to the orphanage again. It felt good to be doing things she had done in the first timeline. They weren't the exact same things, of course, but helping people was simply part of who Hermione was, and being able to help anyone was a balm on her soul. Now, if only she could convince her ragtag family to go Christmas carolling.
"You two need to hurry it up," she said. "Santa will be here soon, and we'll be leaving just as soon as they make our ears pointed." Hermione left, chuckling softly to herself. Ron made a face.
Walking away, made her way to the kitchen. As she passed the family room she saw Horace, chasing his tail- which was really more of a nub than a tail- being cheered on by Sirius and Tonks. Hermione shook her head and smiled at the scene before continuing on. As she walked, she turned her thoughts to all that had happened since Draco's accident.
Ron was surprisingly good at wandless magic for a beginner. He wasn't as good as she or Harry, but he was well on his way. Hermione was pleased with his progress, Harry was excited for his friend, and Ron was very proud of himself, as he should be.
Hermione had her own theories about that. Her guess was that Ron could tap into his magic easier than Harry, and thus learn to control his magic easier, because he could tap into his emotions easier. Harry, who had suffered much abuse at the hands of the Dursleys, repressed his emotions, and emotions powered magic.
Of course, Hermione believed that being young helped. She knew, having read several books on the subject, that it was easier to learn things at a young age because the brain was not fully matured. It was one of the reasons she liked having an eight year old body- physically, her brain was not as mature as an adult brain, despite the extra memories. To her delight, this facilitated her learning to speak other languages. It also helped Ron learn to use wandless magic.
In the few months he had been practicing, he learned to summon small objects from around the room and he could hover, a feat he had finally managed a week before. Ron couldn't suspend himself in air for very long, but he was doing rather well, all things considered. Hermione firmly recalled Ron having trouble using the summoning charm with a wand in their fourth year, so his ability to summon anything meant a great deal, even if it only meant something to her. His ability to hover, even if it was only for a short amount of time, was extraordinary in that it was testament to having a great deal of power. It was nothing for her unrestrained magic, but being magically bound like Harry, it meant a great deal in regard to his magical aptitude.
Their secret meetings to practice without the adults had made time fly, it seemed.
Now it was Christmas once again, and Hermione and her boys were preparing to meet Santa Claus. Ron had mentioned that he always wanted to meet Santa Claus and Harry, being Harry, and begged and pleaded with Sirius and Remus to let Ron join them for their ride with Santa. Sirius, unwilling to refuse Harry anything, especially since the Boggart incident, had folded under the pressure of Harry's emerald eyes looking up at him. Sirius had spoken to Santa and the Weasleys, and arranged for Ron to help Santa.
Hermione felt a pang of regret at Ron joining her and Harry. It was selfish of her, she knew, especially since she spent so much time with Harry, but Christmas was a very special time for herself and Harry. She didn't want to share those precious moments with anyone but her family.
Worse, she was well aware that Ron wasn't going to help out of the goodness of his heart. Hermione knew that, even though he was matured under her watchful eye, he was still a little boy who wanted toys and attention. Ron had wanted to meet Santa to tell him what he wanted for Christmas that year. Then Harry told Ron that, if he helped give out presents, he could meet Santa. Harry, unaware of the damage he was doing, told Ron that his room had been a gift from Santa for helping.
Ron will be expecting something like that, Hermione thought dismally as she walked into the kitchen. There were several piles of presents, waiting to be loaded into Santa's sleigh. Taking a seat at the table, she couldn't help but worry about the plight of the Weasleys. Hermione wasn't a fool. Ron was expecting something nice from Santa for Christmas for helping, and the Weasleys couldn't afford anything like that. More, even if they could afford it, they couldn't very well get something nice for Ron and not for his siblings. On top of that, the Weasley Pride would not allow them to accept handouts.
Ron would be devastated, in the end, and he would blame Harry.
"What's wrong, little Owlet?" A soft voice asked. It was gentle and familiar enough that she only jumped when she heard it- nothing exploded.
Hermione looked up to see her Papa Remus standing behind her. She sighed. "Ron," she said simply. "I'm worried that he won't like what I got him for Christmas." Privately, Hermione was sure he would adore the Chudley Cannons poster she had found.
"Are you more worried about what you got him, or what Santa might give him and not give to his brothers and sister?" Remus gave her a knowing look. Hermione winced a little at how close Remus had come to the truth. "Ah, I see. Always worried about everyone else." Hermione marveled how close and yet how far away he could be from the truth. She was more concerned about Harry than anything. She wasn't about to correct him, though.
The werewolf took a seat and pulled her into his lap. Hermione took comfort in his warmth and leaned into him. It was a guilty pleasure of hers, acting like a child. She had long since stopped trying to convince herself that she was doing it to make everyone believe she was eight and that she did it because Remus was becoming more and more of a father to her everyday.
Remus sighed and kissed her forehead, pulling her out of her thoughts. "Well, my little Owlet, don't you worry about that. I'm sure Santa has a few things in mind." He looked into her eyes. "Everything will be alright. Things have a way of working themselves out."
Hermione smiled at him, though it felt a bit forced. She hoped everything would be alright and work out in the end. So far things had been difficult at best, between not being told what was happening and knowing things that no one else would have dreamt in their darkest of nightmares.
Rather than dwell on such dismal thoughts, Hermione considered the impending trip to the orphanage. There was something bothering her about it- she felt as if there was something she was supposed to remember, but it was always just out of her reach. Deciding that she was getting nowhere fast, she turned away from her thoughts just as her boys jingled and jangled their way into the kitchen.
Their costumes had changed this year. Harry was wearing a bright red suit this time, along with his red and white striped tights, though Hermione thought it made him look like a candy cane. Ron was dressed in green, since the adults decided it would be too much red if he were to wear the red suit. Hermione was dressed in a red and green suit, a fitting combination, she felt, of her boys' outfits.
Ron, however, looked mortified in his green costume. Harry, who liked dressing up- Hermione was sure it was because he never had the opportunity when he was with the Dursleys- was delighted to be in costume again. He cheerfully walked towards Hermione, a bounce in his step and the bells jingling. "Is Santa here yet?"
Hermione shook her head. "Not yet, but he should be here soon."
"What's he like?" Ron asked, coming forward. "Is he as fat as everyone says?"
They heard a deep chuckle coming from the other side of the room. "I prefer plump," the man said as he stepped into view. Professor Albus Dumbledore was in costume again, his long white beard tucked into the large black belt at his waist, seemingly brighter against the red of his suit. Ron stared dumbfounded and began to stutter. Professor Dumbledore chuckled again. "It's alright, I've been called worse, I assure you. Now, to work."
"Humph," another voice came from the doorway. "Work indeed. I loaded the sleigh while you were off filching biscuits." Professor McGonagall stepped into the light, dressed once again as Mrs. Claus. "Let's move along, now, we've work to do."
Hermione smiled to herself and stood from her seat, following dutifully behind her future professors. Harry and Ron, as was their habit, immediately fell in step on either side of her. The trio walked into the family room, the bells on their hats and shoes jingling and jangling.
"Wanna go!" Harmony was crying, tears streaming down her face. "Wanna go! Peez Papa Moo, peez, wanna go wiff Hewmione, an' Hawwy!"
The werewolf was clearly torn. He bounced Harmony in his arms trying to quiet her, telling her she wasn't big enough and that she had to stay home, looking like he was going to crack at any moment. Harmony's pleading had nearly broken him- Remus was ready to ask the headmaster if Harmony could go with them, even though she was still young.
Sirius, however, was not so easily broken. Seeing his friend in need of help, Sirius stood and smoothly took Harmony into his own arms. "Shh, come on now, little one, it will be alright. You don't want to go out there, it's cold outside."
"No! Wanna go. Unca Foot! Peez!" And just like that, Sirius was broken to her will. The 'Unca Foot' got him every time. He was about to grab his wand- likely to begin transfiguring a costume- when Tonks snatched Harmony out of his arms.
"Men," she mumbled, bouncing Harmony. "So stamina when it comes to little kids. They're all talk."
"Hewmione! Hawwy!" Harmony cried, reaching out for them. "Won-Won!" Hermione choked, but no one noticed. The adults were shuffling about, trying to calm Harmony down while the professors ushered Harry, Hermione and Ron out the door and into the sleigh.
Harry chuckled. "That can be your name, Ron."
"What?" The redhead asked.
"We have to have other names when we help, so that no one knows who we are. I'm Dobby, and Hermione is Winky. You can be Won-Won."
"Eugh!" Ron make a disgusted noise and turned away. "Do I have to?" He asked Professor Dumbledore.
The older man nodded in reply, his blue eyes twinkling. "Yes, I'm afraid you must choose another name, young Mister Weasley, and Won-Won is as good as any."
Ron slumped, defeated. "Fine," he said at last. "I'll… I'll be Won-Won." He suddenly scowled and turned to Harry. "And don't you tell Fred and George, Harry, or Ginny. They'll never leave me alone about it."
Hermione only smiled and shook her head good naturedly. She took the opportunity to look out at the city around them as they rushed by. It was beautiful, she realized. The snow made London look like a winter wonderland.
Time passed quickly as the group passed gawking Muggles left and right. Some must have seen them last year, for they laughed and waved. Smiling, Hermione waved back. A gentle snow began to fall. Harry and Ron laughed delightedly, both trying to catch the snowflakes on their tongues. Hermione grinned at them, enjoying the peace.
It seemed like only a few minutes later the sleigh pulled up to the orphanage once again. Again, the niggling feeling that she had felt off and on every time she thought about the orphanage returned. Hermione frowned as she gazed at the building. It looked much the same as it had before. There was something very odd about the orphanage that she couldn't quite put her finger on.
The door slammed open, and the boy Hermione recognized as Jeremy came running out, his face alight with holiday cheer. Other kids came and stood in the doorway, cheering merrily as Santa, his wife and his elves, stepped down from the sleigh. "Ah, young Jeremy! Come to offer your services again?" Santa asked.
"Yes sir," Jeremy said, beaming. He excitedly grabbed a stack of gifts as he had the year before, and started back towards the orphanage. "Move it guys, if you want Santa to give you your presents, you best get out of the way. Go on, move along, you'll get you stuff if you've been good this year."
Harry and Hermione shared a grin, but Ron looked confused. "He helped us out a bit last year," Harry quickly explained. "Santa knew his name without asking," he said, as if that explained everything. His answer was enough for Ron, who seemed awed by such a feat.
Hermione shook her head and grabbed her own stack of gifts to carry. She was just thankful that, in the wizarding world, the idea of a man in a red suit going down chimneys and leaving gifts for children wasn't such an outlandish idea. It was even easier to believe in said man in a red suit if you believed you helped him deliver presents.
As it was, Harry adored being Santa's little helper, and Hermione sincerely hoped that this little activity would become a tradition, even after Harry learned the truth. It was important to Hermione that Harry understand the value of giving. It was important to Sirius too, now that he had leaned of Harry's possible future.
The group entered the orphanage and found the headmaster, or rather, Santa talking with a woman holding a toddler in her arms. She looked… familiar to Hermione. She was short with curly brown hair and light blue eyes. There was just something about the woman…
"I'm new, myself. Just started working here two months ago. Couldn't believe the stories the kids told me that Santa came to give them presents last year. Didn't expect to see you this year."
Dumbledore chuckled along with McGonagall. "Well, as you can see, here we are. Ah! And there are my elves. Everyone, I trust you all remember Dobby and Winky." Harry and Hermione stepped forward and bowed their heads in acknowledgement. "My newest addition is Won-Won." Ron stepped up, his ears burning, and nodded his head.
A sudden memory surfaced.
A young, mousy haired boy was picking on a little girl. A short woman, looking the worse for the wear, tried to make him stop. Her curly brown hair was frazzled, her face white with exhaustion from chasing kids all day long.
Hermione's eyes widened as she, Harry and Ron followed Jeremy out to get another stack of presents to bring in. Think, Hermione. Orphanage in London, that woman… Hufflepuff's Cup! Hermione swallowed and mentally kicked herself. Of course! How could she have forgotten something as important as the Hufflepuff cup, hidden away in the very building she was currently hauling presents into by Tom Riddle?
"Herm- er, Winky, are you alright?" Harry asked, frowning at her.
"Dobby," she said, slowly grabbing the next stack of gifts to carry. Should she tell him? He already suspected something was going on. "Do you remember what I told you a long time ago, about Voldemort's souls?" Harry nodded. Hermione hesitated, but decided this may be her only chance in a long time. "One of them is here."
Harry stopped what he was going and stared at her for a long moment. Ron, confused, looked at them funny. "Hey, you two, what are you doing? I want to go inside. It's cold out here."
"Ron," Harry said urgently. "Hermione and I need you to do us a favour."
Ron immediately stood straighter, despite the weight of the packages in his arms. "What do you need me to do, Mate? Does it involve me being inside?" Hermione didn't miss the hopeful look on his face.
Hermione stepped towards him, already knowing what Harry was planning. "We need you to be a decoy."
Ron nodded vigorously then stopped. "What's a decoy?"
Hermione sighed. "Harry and I need to you make sure that none of the grownups look for us. We have something we have to do."
Ron looked at them, obviously torn between wanting to go along and helping them with whatever they were planning. Hermione, of course, wasn't sure what they were planning. "I can do that, but you two have to tell me what's going when you can, promise?"
"Promise," Harry swore solemnly.
"Promise," Hermione nodded.
"Alright," Ron agreed, nodding. "I'll do it."
Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you Ron, really. We'll tell you everything later." Harry only nodded to his friend and clasped his hand on the redhead's shoulder as he had often seen his Papa Sirius do to his Uncle Remus. "We'd better take off our shoes," she murmured. "The bells will give us away otherwise."
"Good idea," Harry said, nodding.
"Better hide the shoes," Ron added. "If anyone sees your shoes, they'll know something's up." Harry and Hermione gave him a surprised look. "What do you expect?" He asked with a shrug. "Fred and George are always pulling pranks. I heard them say once that it was good to take off your shoes so no one could hear you coming, and hide 'em so no one would find 'em and give you away."
"Right," Hermione said, slipping out of her shoes and setting them in a little, out-of-the-way nook where no one would notice them. Harry did the same, taking off his hat as well. Nodding, she added her own hat to the small pile before looking back at Harry.
Hermione stepped down the hallway, Harry close behind her. Okay, now, I believe it was the third door on the right, she thought as she led the way. The hallway looked much as she remembered it- dark, with cobwebs lining the ceiling. Ron nearly had a heart attack the first time around. She was almost glad he wasn't here this time.
"Through here," she whispered to Harry when the came to the door. She gripped the doorknob and turned it slowly before applying the smallest bit of pressure to the door and slowly pushing it open. She held her breathe, praying it wouldn't creak. Luck was with them, as the door made only a slight noise, but nothing that could be heard by anyone attending the party. Hermione breathed a silent sigh of relief.
The two inched their way into the dark room. Harry frowned and furrowed his brow. A moment later a small ball of light appeared in his hand. Hermione nodded her approval as he held it up, lighting the room. "This way," she whispered, moving down the aisle of beds.
As they walked, Hermione observed the room. Harry wouldn't notice, not having the memories she did, but the room was tidier than it was in the first timeline. The beds were made, and the few toys were set on beds rather than scattered about on the floor. The windows were in better condition, and there was less writing on the walls.
Focusing on the matter at hand, Hermione led Harry to an old wardrobe that seemed out of place in the room. She had learned the first time around that Tom Riddle had enchanted it so no one without magic could see it. There were repelling charms aplenty on the wardrobe, so many that Hermione wanted nothing more than to walk away. She felt almost as if she was being physically pushed away.
Harry, meanwhile, had merely glanced at the old armoire and continued walking. Hermione wasn't surprised. In the first timeline, the trio had wandered around the room for close to an hour before they cottoned on to the idea of repelling charms. It was only because she already knew where the Horcrux was that she wasn't wandering as aimlessly as Harry.
While her academic mind wanted nothing more than to explore and note similarities and differences between the two timelines, she knew she simply didn't have the time. "Harry!" She called in a hushed voice. "I need you over here."
"But there's nothing there, Hermione, just some big cabinet thing," he protested. "We should look around more. It's got to be here somewhere."
"Fine then, but I need you to do something for me first," Hermione said.
"Alright, what do you need me to do?" He asked as he approached.
"Harry, do you know how to talk to snakes when there aren't any near you?"
Harry frowned. "I don't know," he replied. "I've never tried it before. Why?"
"I want you to look at the wardrobe and try to say 'open' like a snake. Can you do that?"
"I'll try," he said, nodding. He looked at the armoire. "Open," he said, then looked at Hermione, who shook her head. "Open," he said again, and again, Hermione shook her head.
"Why don't you pretend that your snake friend, what was her name?"
"Misstessah," Harry replied.
"Misstessah, yes. Why don't you pretend Misstessah is inside there, and you need to talk to her."
Harry cocked his head to the side as he considered the idea before nodding sharply. He turned and squinted at the wardrobe, and began to hiss. Hermione smiled briefly, before turning back to the task at hand. After Harry's hissed command, the doors flung open, a malevolent red-orange glow emanating from within and, distantly, a pedestal suspended in mid - air, bearing the Hufflepuff cup. The two stepped back as a wave of heat washed over them. Hermione swallowed thickly, clearly remembering what had happened last time around.
"Harry," she began. "I have to tell you about this." She gestured to the open doors. "Do you see that orange glow?" Harry nodded, wiping sweat from his brow. "That's, well, it's lava, Harry. That's what happens when rock gets so hot that it melts. We're going to have to fly to get the cup."
Harry grinned wryly. "And since we don't have a broom, it's a good thing we can fly, isn't it?"
Hermione grinned in reply, but the grin quickly faded. "There's more to it. There is a time limit, I guess you could say. We only have so long to get in there and get the cup and get out. If we take too long," she paused and bit her lip. "The doors will shut, and we'll be trapped in there."
He was silent for a long moment, but Hermione could see he was working through everything in his mind. "How long do we have, and how long does it take?"
Hermione suppressed a shudder. The first time they had gone after the cup, it had been a very close call. They hadn't known that there was only a certain amount of time. If it hadn't been for Harry's superior Firebolt, they would have died. As it was, it had been a close call, with the doors slamming shut on the twigs of the tail end of his broom.
"I'm not sure," she answered honestly. "But not very long. I think you can take as much time as you need to get there and get the cup, but once you touch it, I think you only have a minute, if that. It's not very long."
Harry nodded and stared at the floor. Suddenly he cocked his head to the side. "Did you hear that?"
"Hear what?" Hermione asked. She frowned and stepped towards the door, listening carefully. She shook her head. "I don't hear anything. Are you sure you head something?" There was no response. "Harry?" She turned back to find Harry was no longer standing before the wardrobe.
She dashed to the open doors and looked through. Just as she suspected, she could clearly see Harry flying towards the pedestal bearing the cup.
She growled deep in her throat, a trait she had picked up from Remus. "Harry, if you survive, I'll kill you myself. To Hell with Voldemort, fear me!" She began to wring her hands and shift from one foot to the other, her eyes flickering between Harry and the doors, all the while contemplating whether she should strangle Harry with her bare hands, or use a rope. Regardless, she planned on giving him another lecture later, when they were safely at Grimmauld Place.
His distant figure began to grow, and Hermione knew he was returning. She could feel her heart beating in her chest as she waited for his return, must as she could feel her body trembling and the sweat run down her face. She bit her lip hard enough to draw blood. Oh Harry, hurry, please hurry. You're running out of time!"
Several things began to happen at once. Harry was zooming back, a gleam of gold in his hand. The doors began to shut. Hermione began to shake harder from the stress, fear and heat. Dreading the worst, she jumped between the doors, struggling to keep them apart, to give Harry more time. He couldn't fly half as fast as he Firebolt, even with said broom was carrying three people.
As she struggled to keep the doors open, Harry was flying closer and closer until her barrelled into her, knocking them both to floor while the door slammed shut. Harry rolled off of Hermione and lay beside her on the hardwood floor, trembling just as much as Hermione.
"I should kill you for that," Hermione said weakly. It didn't come out nearly as harshly as she'd intended. It sounded rather pathetic to her ears, in fact.
"Couldn't let you get hurt," Harry argued back. He propped himself up on his elbow. "I'll never let anyone hurt you, Hermione." With that, he lay back down, panting heavily. They stayed that way, laying silently, for several long moments. "That was harder than I thought," Harry said at last.
She couldn't stop the giggle that bubbled to the surface. It was such a ridiculous comment to make, and it was so thoroughly Harry that it comforted her. They were silent for a beat. "We'd better get back," she said, forcing herself to sit up. "We'll be missed."
Harry sat up, groaning a little. "What will we do with this?" He asked, holding up the cup.
"For now, we take with us and hide it. We'll grab it before we leave. Santa will notice if we're carrying a cup around."
Harry stood and offered her his hand. "We should put it where our hats and shoes are. It's a good spot."
Nodding, Hermione replied. "Good idea, Harry."
Hand in hand, the two left the room with a sigh of relief and stealthily made their way down the hallway. They found the nook and set the cup in the shadows and pulled on their shoes and hats before returning to the party. They caught Ron's eyes- he was in the middle of a group of kids, handing out biscuits- and nodded.
"Ah, there you are," a voice said.
"Did you need something, Santa?" Harry asked, looking up at the wizened wizard. Dumbledore smiled fondly at him.
"Indeed, Dobby. Won-Won could use some help handing out treats before we go. Why don't you and Winky help him?"
Harry nodded vigorously, a grinning lighting his face. He loved helping people. "Yes Sir!" He said cheerily, before leaving to help Ron, Hermione a step behind him. Neither saw the long, penetrating look the professor gave them.
A scant ten minutes later they were preparing to leave. Hermione shared a look with Harry and Ron, and slipped away and grabbed the cup. Not knowing what to do with it, she set it atop her head and pulled her hat on over top of it. She stepped out of the shadows just as everyone was walking out of the door. Holding her hat- and the cup- in place, she jogged after them.
Stepping into the sleigh, she slipped the cup out from under her hat and set it on the floor, holding it securely with her feet. Everyone merrily waved goodbye as the sleigh took off down the road. This time, however, no one fell asleep. There was much to be discussed between the trio.
Hermione knew that Ron would stand by them. Harry, and herself to a lesser extent, were the reason for his confidence in himself, and he was unwaveringly loyal to them. That was not the problem, however. Much as she loved him- he was very much like the brother she'd never had- she knew he was very much like Hagrid and tended to let things slip. She couldn't blame him. He was young and hadn't learned the value of secrets. As much as she hated it, she would have to use his siblings to manipulate him into not telling anyone.
Sneaking the cup into her hat and holding on her lap, Hermione relaxed a little. A few snow flakes fluttered down on the silent path to home. She looked at her boys, and felt a rush of warmth and pride. They sat beside her, their backs straight and their heads held high. It was an unusual pose for those so young, but it was fitting, considering the conversation they would be having soon. Hermione looked back up at the sky.
Everything was going to be alright.
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A/N: I'm sorry it took so long, but things have been crazy. My course load for college was ridiculous. Imagine, three ten-page papers due back-to-back on top of reading history articles that averaged forty pages in length. And that was one class. I can't even remember how many plays I read for theatre, and I believe I read fifty six essays for my sociology class. Oh, and work. I can barely find time to sleep let alone write. Still, I hope I'll have more time, since classes are out now.
I would like to thank everyone who reviewed the last few chapters, and thank you all again for waiting so long. Thank you for reading.
Cheers,
Madm_05