Chapter Ten
Harry couldn't form proper thoughts as he followed Hermione down the steps of Grimmauld Place. They would have to fly to the Burrow, as Hagrid couldn't Apparate. Harry had often observed that Hagrid looked too big to be allowed in almost any situation, but seeing him mount a broomstick was utterly absurd. The handle was barely up to his chest and Harry had quantifiable reservations that he would even get off the ground.
`Shall I Apparate, Harry?' asked Hermione. `I don't have a broom see.'
`You can come on with me if you want,' said Harry. `I'm sure it'll support us both.'
Hermione threw her leg over the broom and Harry scooted on behind her. Their bodies were pressed together and Hermione threw him a little smile over her shoulder and pushed back into him. Harry cursed the bad timing and took off after Hagrid who was already some way ahead. Hermione, who Harry remembered didn't like flying, was gripping onto Harry's hands very tightly as he guided the broom in flight. The Firebolt quickly caught Hagrid's broom and they flew on in silence.
It was late evening by this time and wispy clouds hung slightly above the trio as they flew. Summer was passing quickly and the Autumn air was chilly at the height they were flying. The sharp air mixed with the moisture of the clouds to freeze Harry's face as he shot along. Hermione in front of him was tense and her rigidity told Harry that she was probably thinking exactly as he was.
And there was only one topic. Who had died? Harry hated himself for doing it but he couldn't help but prioritise, to formulate a list of whom it would be least painful to part with. In spite of, perhaps even because of, their recent falling out Harry put Ron at the bottom of his list. The very thought that their final parting would come at a time then they were on such bad terms chilled him in a way harsh weather never could. It was all he could do to put the idea from his mind and focus on flying.
Then there were the other Weasley's, any number of whom could have been at the Burrow at the time of the attack. Fred and George were easily his favourites and he would despair greatly if either of them were the victim. Bill on the other hand, Harry thought, is half-werewolf now so perhaps it would be a blessing for him. But then that would devastate Fleur, who Harry had always harboured something of a soft spot for her, and he wouldn't want to see her upset, or dead for that matter.
That thought brought him on to Ginny. His thoughts on her were so convoluted that he had trouble deciphering them. He didn't want her dead, to be sure, but he thought he could deal with it if she had. Their relationship had deteriorated to such an extent that the selfish part of Harry's brain felt it would be easier without having to deal with the fallout from that. And in any case, he thought, Hermione would be there to help me get over it. It was then that he remembered that if it wasn't for him she would still have been there, she might have been in the line of fire. The thought made him give her a purposeful hug and grip her fingers as tightly as they were digging into him.
`What is it?' she called back to him.
`Nothing,' he replied. `I'm just glad you're with me.'
`That's quite scary,' said Hermione.
`What is? What's scary about that?'
`Not the thing itself,' said Hermione. `I was just thinking exactly the same thing. It was running through my mind, word for word. Then you said it.'
`That is scary,' said Harry. `I'd better get back to my Occlumency soon.'
`Occlumency couldn't keep me out, Harry,' said Hermione. `Not from you, anyway.'
Harry returned her warm smile with one of his own, enjoying more than he knew he should the feeling of her hands smoothing his own and her bushy head cradling back into his neck. It wasn't soon after, as if some cosmic force was conspiring to keep Harry from any happiness, that the outline of Stoatshead Hill came into view. The Burrow, silhouetted against the gently rising morning sun, stood a short distance away and Harry could almost taste the scent of sorrow drifting up on the air.
Hagrid landed first with all the grace of a gymnastic buffalo and Harry imagined that the Weasley's would know they had visitors by the gigantic thud. He, himself, touched down with much greater deftness. Hermione dismounted and, despite the impending bad news, Harry couldn't help but grin to himself at the look of disappointment on her face. She, he could tell, had enjoyed that ride just as much s he had.
No sooner had they stowed their brooms safely in the shed in the garden than Mrs Weasley was crossing the yard towards them. She drew Harry and Hermione into a hug, telling them both how much she had missed them and how worried she had been. Harry could see by her face that she had been crying a lot. Her eyes were red and puffy, her skin blotchy. Harry felt his heart sink for he knew that whoever had been killed had been one of her own.
`W-what happened?' said Harry uncertainly.
`It was You-Know-Who,' said Mrs Weasley. She spoke in a tone which suggested she was all cried out. Her voice was as tired and strained as her face. `I knew it was only a matter of time before one of us went. There's just too many of us fighting in high places to not be targets. And in the end we lost one.'
`Wh-who was it, Mrs Weasley?' asked Hermione tentatively.
`Charlie,' said Mrs Weasley, like she'd already told the tale to a thousand people. `It was Charlie.'
`How did it happen?' asked Harry.
`You-Know-Who set a dragon loose. Charlie went to help reign it in. He was so brave, hardly anyone else tried to help. Too scared to get involved in case You-Know-Who targeted them. They managed to tie it down but just as they thought it was subdued it lashed its tail. Charlie was hit. The Healers said it would have been instant. He wouldn't have known much about it. That's some comfort, I suppose. He didn't suffer.'
Her tone drifted off. There wasn't anything to say and Harry felt that anything worthwhile had probably been said already by people more eloquent than himself. They followed Mrs Weasley as she led the way in doors where they were met in the kitchen by the surviving Weasley's, Fleur, Tonks, Lupin and several others Harry didn't recognise. As soon as he and Hermione were in sight Ron approached them and shook Harry's hand. He could barely look at Hermione and afforded her only a grunt by way of a greeting.
`Thanks for coming,' he mumbled, though sincerity ran through his voice.
`Of course,' said Harry. `How are you all doing?'
`Mum's been a right state since it happened,' said Ron. `Ginny's been pretty much the same but Dad's been as bad as anyone. He hasn't spoken a word for ages.'
`Maybe he's in shock,' said Hermione, glancing at Mr Weasley slumped at the table looking glazed.
`That's what mum said,' said Ron, following Hermione's gaze to his father. `But I don't think he's even spoken to her.'
Harry stood there looking around at the Weasley's, unsure of what to say. He had never been very good in situations like this. He remembered the time when he'd seen Mr Weasley bitten by Voldemort's snake and they had all gone to Grimmauld Place to wait for news. He hadn't known the right things to say then and the situation felt almost identical now. He decided it was best to stay silent, to not intrude on the grief and speak only when spoken to.
This didn't take long however. Ron, who seemed to be feeling the awkward silence just as much as Harry, asked quietly if he had had any luck with the Horcruxes.
`Yeah,' said Harry. `We found one at Hogwarts, d'you believe that? Gryffindor's armour was the suit in the corridor by the painting of the Fat Lady.'
`Wow,' said Ron. `It was right under Dumbledore's nose all that time. How did it get in though? Surely You-Know-Who would have had to make it into a Horcrux fairly recently.'
`Not necessarily,' said Hermione. `He was trying to learn to do them when he was at school. One of his first killings might have been made when he was still here and he used the suit of armour then. Maybe when he used the basilisk to kill Moaning Myrtle. Plus, we don't know how long the suit has been at the school. It looked a lot newer than the other ones.'
`It doesn't matter,' said Harry, who could sense an argument brewing. `It's been destroyed anyway. All other whys and wherefores are irrelevant.'
`You destroyed it?' said Ron, sounding both impressed and disappointed to have missed it. `How?'
`I made it possess me and Hermione had to curse me till the part of Voldemort's soul was destroyed,' Harry explained.
`You let it possess you?' said Ron, both sounding and looking horrified at the thought. `You took a piece of You-Know-Who's soul into you? By choice?'
`Pretty much,' said Harry, alarmed by the burgeoning awed look on Ron's face. He had quite enough star struck fans and he didn't need his friend to be one too.
`Wow,' said Ron. `You're mad!'
`It had to be done,' said Hermione sniffily. `There wasn't any other choice. But hexing Harry to within an inch of his life was hardly my idea of a fun afternoon. I didn't think that fighting Voldemort would involve us fighting each other, too.'
`Well what was it you liked to say?' said Harry. `Voldemort spreads enmity and discord from within? Or something mad like that.'
`Y-you remembered my words?' said Hermione. Harry noticed a sweeping frown cross Ron's face, but it was gone as quickly as it arrived.
`Well you did keep saying them,' said Harry. `Kind of ingrained on my skull after that.'
`Shut up, Harry,' said Hermione, playfully slapping his arm but grinning all the time. `I do not keep on about things.'
Harry coughed trying to conceal a veiled `SPEW' within it. Even Ron gave a half-smirk to this as Hermione slapped Harry again.
`Which reminds me,' said Harry, and he explained about Dumbledore's will and all the things he'd been left.
`Money! He gave you money?' said Ron in disbelief.
`Lots of it,' said Harry, who was feeling embarrassed about this now. `I don't know why.'
`That's obvious,' said Ron. `You always were his favourite and he never had any children of his own. You were probably the closest thing he ever had to a son. He might have even felt like you were a bit.'
There was a knock at the door that interrupted the conversation. Fred got up to answer the door, opening to a tall, thin man with wispy orange hair. He was some relative Harry had never met.
`My uncle Octavian,' said Ron. `He's the Accountant we never talk about. Better go and say hello.'
Ron sidled away to join his family as they accepted the commiserations of the newcomer. Harry sidled up to Hermione feeling more apart from the Weasley family than ever.
`Shall we go for a walk?' said Hermione. `I feel really awkward here.'
Harry nodded enthusiastically and followed Hermione to the door. They passed Fred and Bill on the way, both of whom shook Harry's hand and clasped him on the shoulder as they thanked him for coming. This made Harry feel even worse as he just felt more useless than ever. Once into the garden Hermione led the way though the back gate and into the field behind the house.
`Nice path,' said Harry irritably as his shoes sank into soft mud.
`Sorry, I just couldn't stay in there anymore,' said Hermione. `I feel so terrible for them. What can you do though? They are all family and they can't do much for each other. I feel so outside of it.'
`Me too,' said Harry. `Perhaps its better that way. We don't feel it as much.'
`Are you joking?' said Hermione. `I feel it badly. I just keep thinking -'
She broke off suddenly and looked away.
`Thinking what?' asked Harry.
`I just keep thinking,' said Hermione slowly, `what if…what if it was you. I couldn't stand it, I just couldn't. I couldn't bear it if that happened to you. If you die, Harry, I don't think I could go on.'
`What are you talking about?' said Harry. `That's a silly thing to say. Of course you could go on.'
`I couldn't,' said Hermione.
`Why are you saying this?' said Harry. `I'm not going to promise I won't die, I can't, but I don't like thinking about what you'd do if I did.'
`Things are changing between us, Harry,' said Hermione. `They already have, don't you think? I don't even want to think about being parted from you.'
Harry felt an odd sensation pass through him. Without thinking he took Hermione's hand and turned her to face him. She looked on the verge of tears but her expression changing as he brushed her hair behind her ears, bent down and kissed her gently on her lips. She tasted warm and Harry felt electrified. She kept her eyes closed as he pulled away.
`If you don't want to think about it, then don't,' said Harry. He smiled and guided Hermione onto a firmer path to talk what he hoped would be quite a long stroll.
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