Chapter 11 - Locutorian
Harry's cottage isn't at all what I expected. I thought he had bought something at least as nice as the cottage that Bill and Fleur owned, but this place is…honestly…a dump. Harry calls it a challenge. I call it hopeless, which makes him laugh.
"Why would you want this, Harry? You can afford better."
"Come on. I'll show you."
He leads me to the sitting room window and waves his wand in the direction of the graveyard, which is in partial view. Most of it is obscured by the church and shrubs, but there is a row of gravestones visible from where we stand. A filament of silvery light floats into the air, waving in the same manner that grass would slowly wave in an underwater current. I understood then why he would want this exact cottage, which had been condemned before Harry purchased it.
"That's not all."
He took my hand and we made ourselves up the rickety old staircase to the second floor. Harry pulled me excitedly down the short hallway to the master bedroom. It was a cramped, dusty space with an old half-bed that had been dressed in clean sheets. At the window he pointed, and I could see the rubble of his parents' old house.
"Oh, Harry…"
He stood behind me, then, and wrapped his arms around me. He rested his chin lightly on my shoulder.
"I want to fix this place up, Hermione, so that when I'm here I can see what I have left of them. I want to know the kind of happiness they didn't get to have right here."
"They were happy, Harry. Maybe not for long, but they were happy."
"I know, but they didn't get to experience seeing me grow up. They didn't get to experience growing older together. I want that…with you."
I turned from the window and faced Harry, wrapping my arms around his neck. I can see my reflection in his glasses, and I'm surprised by how troubled I look. I don't feel troubled at all. I feel overwhelmed that Harry so easily admitted what he really wants from me. I feel overwhelmed by how badly I want to give that to him.
"That's what I'll give you. Right here."
I'm always surprised by how passion can overtake Harry and me. We'll be in the middle of a peaceful, quiet moment, and then one look, or an innocent touch or kiss can ignite an explosion of desire and need. We go from looking at one another to devouring one another in bruising kisses. My body feels like it's on fire everywhere Harry touches me. He pushes me onto the bed, pulls down my knickers, undoes his trousers, and in seconds we're shagging like it's the last chance we'll have before we die. The old bed is squeaky and hard, and I'm sure half of Godric's Hollow can hear it, but I don't care. All that matters is the feel of Harry inside me. All that matters is that the moment is so frighteningly intense that we lose ourselves in it, in each other, until it's over and we come back to ourselves. We come back to the real world which is chilly and dusty, and absolutely-completely-ours. Just…ours.
***
Ron comes over the next morning, showing up surprisingly early even for me. He and Harry make a trip to Diagon Alley for supplies. Despite all the wonders that magic can do, it can't create supplies out of absolutely nothing. They return to the gate struggling with a chest no bigger than a normal school trunk. Once inside the gate, however, the privacy charms kick in and they're able to levitate it to the back yard without fear of the Muggle neighbors seeing.
From inside the trunk Harry and Ron unload lumber, stones, cement, and an assortment of other masonry sundries-enough to practically rebuild the entire cottage it seems, and then we set to work on the sitting room. Ron does most of the masonry charm work, and by evening we have the room completely restored and better than it looked when it was new.
"Ron, where did you learn to do that?" Harry asks, covered in dust. I've set out a dinner of Chinese takeout that I grabbed from the next village over. I'm not as happy with what I've witnessed today as Harry is. I know Ron, and I've never seen him use such advanced repair charms in the entire time I've known him.
Ron shrugged. "I picked a lot of it up from Mum and Dad."
"We could have used some of that wandwork last year when we were chasing down Voldemort's-"
"Rice, Ron?" I ask loudly.
"No thanks, I've got enough," Ron says. "Chasing down Voldemort's…?" Ron looked expectantly at Harry.
"You know, when we were chasing down-"
"Stop!" I shout.
Harry and Ron literally stop in the middle of eating and look at me in surprise.
"We agreed we'd never speak of that again. You promised, Ron."
Ron furrows his brow.
"You promised," I repeat. Of course Ron never made any such promise, but my mistrust of him is so powerful that I can't ignore it now.
"Right, I know I did. Sorry, Hermione."
Harry is looking at me in complete confusion, but long experience has given him the instincts to know when he should and shouldn't open his mouth.
"Let's just eat and clean up, yeah? I'm really tired."
Dinner is a quiet, awkward affair, and when it's over Ron helps me clear the dishes, which is out of character for him. He doesn't ask for desert either, which is also out of character. Harry and I walk him to the door, and for the second time Ron attempts to kiss me directly on the mouth. This time I turn my head and he ends up pecking me lightly on the cheek. That he would attempt such a thing in front of Harry would normally have infuriated me, but now it just worries me.
I shut the door and lean heavily against it until I hear the loud crack of Ron Disapparating outside the gate.
"Hermione, what was that?" Harry asks.
I motion for him to be quiet. "Nothing, I'm just not in a good mood this evening. Like I said, I'm tired."
Again I motion for Harry to be silent and I draw my wand. Inside the sitting room I use every silent revealing spell I know. Finally a very ancient, complicated spell causes a bubble of light to leave the tip of my wand and float softly to the newly repaired hearth. It disappears a small distance up the chimney, and silently I reach up and feel around until I feel something. I pull my soot-covered hand out to reveal a small silver ball with a rune etched into the side. It's heavy for its size.
Harry, who has kept up a constant banter of small talk, falls silent.
What is that? He mouths at me.
I replace it where I found it and ask Harry if he'd like to walk off dinner before we come back and go to bed. He agrees and we're a block away from the cottage before I feel safe enough to speak under the protection of the Muffliato spell.
"What was that thing?" Harry asked aloud.
"A Locutorian. It's a magical listening device. The symbol scratched into the side is the rune for speaking. Not just regular speaking, but yelling, as though to communicate over a long distance or over loud noise. They're powerfully charmed, Harry. They may even be able to hear us now, a block away and under a privacy spell. There's only one way it could have gotten into the hearth."
Harry and I look at one another for a long time. Neither of us wants to say it, but Harry is the first to break the silence with the truth.
"Ron."
***
Harry and I find a bench and sit down, watching other villagers rush to the shops before they close, or hurrying home from work. Neither of us is sure what to say after half an hour of arguing back and forth both in favor of Ron and against him.
"I just can't believe Ron would bug our house," Harry says.
Our house. The word our had rolled so naturally off Harry's tongue I'm sure he didn't realize how it made me feel to hear it. Harry and I have a home of our own and we haven't officially graduated Hogwarts. I almost giggle, but restrain myself admirably. Now is not the time for giggling.
"I left him for you. I love you in a way I never loved him. We've hurt him, Harry, and when someone feels hurt and betrayed they sometimes seek revenge."
Sirius and his desire to kill Peter Pettigrew came to my mind. I'm sure he came to Harry's mind as well. He nodded.
"I suppose…but this is Ron. I can't imagine him throwing in his lot with the Sons of the Serpent. I just can't."
"It's possible he's being coerced. All I know is he can't be trusted until we find out what really happened when he disappeared. Did he go willingly or was he really kidnapped? Is he acting on his own or is he under the Imperius Curse?"
"We should talk to Arthur and Molly, see how he's been acting-"
"No, Harry, we can't! We could put them in grave danger."
"Hermione, Ron may want to get back at us for getting together, but he'd never hurt his family."
"Maybe not, but if he's being controlled by the Sons of the Serpent they may do something to the Weasleys."
Harry sighed, nodding in agreement. "If they've gotten to Ron there's no telling who else they've gotten to. Is there anyone we can really trust besides each other?"
"We'll have to try to find someone. I say we go to Kingsley and tell him our suspicions."
"If we go now they'll know for certain we're on to them," Harry said. "I say we go in the morning and take turns keeping watch through the night."
I agree, and we start off for the cottage, arm in arm. I can't help but wonder if anyone on the street is more than who they appeared to be. My skin crawls as we head home. Any number of people could be watching us. Harry's hand is close to his wand, and I keep my own hand at the ready. Even with Voldemort dead, Harry and I haven't forgotten how to be wary of attack.
The cottage, which had been such a source of joy only a few short hours ago, now filled me with anxiety. It's not lost on me that we could have already tipped off the Sons of the Serpent that we were on to them. They could have already sent assassins for us, but if they did they would have to attack now, before we got into the gate. Harry had, thankfully, decided to turn Ron down and make me Secret Keeper for the cottage.
We made it through the gate without incident, but Harry and I took nothing for granted. We checked the place out thoroughly and thankfully we found no more Locutorians. The cottage was empty and cold.
"We'll kip in here tonight," Harry said, and Summoned some blankets down from upstairs. I lit a fire in the newly restored hearth, knowing the flames would do nothing to harm or disrupt the powerfully charmed Locutorian that Ron had hidden inside it.
I lay down on the sofa and wrapped myself under the blanket while Harry sat up in one of the chairs and kept a watchful eye on the premises. He'd wake me in four hours and I would finish the watch while he slept.
It was like going back to the fight against Voldemort. Once again Harry and I were on the lookout, and nowhere felt safe-but we had each other. It had always been that way. Harry and I had always had each other, and as I drifted off to sleep I took comfort in knowing it would always be that way.