Everybody Hurts

Disclaimer: The characters do not belong to me. The story does. I have written this story for pleasure and am not making a single Knut out of it.

* * *

Chapter V

Everybody Hurts

A week later, Hermione was still waiting for an opportunity to approach Snape about leaving for a weekend. She felt anxious because even after nearly three weeks, she still had no idea how to address him. Professor Snape did not ring right, considering that he was no longer a teacher. Addressing him by his first name like Parvati and Draco did she considered rude since he had neither given her permission to do so nor did he address her by her first name. And calling him Mr Snape sounded simply wrong.

Furthermore, Hermione felt she was letting the scattered magical community down if she took a weekend off, during which she would not get any research done.

Eventually, the problem took care of itself.

One evening, the residents of Spinner's End had finished dinner and were enjoying another exquisite bottle of French red wine when Snape looked into the round.

"I need a volunteer to run some errands in London for me," he announced blandly.

"Oh, no," Parvati groaned. "Not London! I went last time and got totally lost!"

Draco remained silent, his face void of any expression as if he was not part of the group.

"I'll go," Hermione offered quickly. "I have been hoping to find an opportunity to look in on Grimmauld Place, and I know London fairly well, so I could go wherever you need me to while I'm staying there for the weekend. That way, I won't feel as if I'm wasting time by not researching."

"That'll work for me, Miss Granger. All I need is some herbs from a Muggle apothecary in Covent Garden. I would also appreciate if you could visit The Leaky Cauldron and see if any shops in Diagon Alley are open. If the apothecary is back in business, you could find out if they have any magical potion ingredients for sale."

"Sure, no problem, sir," Hermione replied, happy to be useful while taking the break she wanted.

"Oh, scrap the formalities, girl," Snape snapped impatiently. "None of your peers present here bother with them, and I don't see why you should." He ignored Hermione's blush and continued, "And while you are in London, do me a favour and try to find out what's up with Shacklebolt. I want to know if he's safe. And kindly don't let Moody know my whereabouts."

* * *

On the following Friday, Hermione took the train to London's Kings Cross and walked the short distance to Grimmauld Place.

It was early afternoon, and only Ginny was at home. Hermione was both relieved and anxious at seeing just her for the time being. She was not certain how Ron would receive her despite his earlier letter to her. The memory of their constant squabbling during her previous stay was still painfully present.

Ginny led her friend to the kitchen and, after brewing some coffee, joined her at the table. "So, tell, Hermione, how have you been? Snape treating you at least half decent?" Ginny asked.

"Yes, he's not bad," Hermione replied dismissively. "Where is everyone, Ginny? What's been happening here? Any news?" She was not keen on sharing her experience or thoughts of their former professor, and she knew Ginny well enough to distract her attention. Her strategy worked for now.

Ginny was more than happy to update Hermione with the latest events in what was left of wizarding London. She grinned and said, "We've some news, alright. Tonks spends her days in the City, listening to brokers discussing the movements of stocks and shares and sharing insider information. She's made a bit of money that way in the last couple of weeks.

"Let's see, what else... Oh, yes. Moody is still planning on getting Kingsley Shacklebolt to come into hiding here. He, Remus and Tonks met this guy near The Leaky Cauldron a couple of weeks ago. He's totally wacky apparently, convinced there is a conspiracy against humankind. You can imagine how that fuelled Moody." Hermione grinned and Ginny giggled before she continued. "He's greatly into dealing in the City and makes a killing by listening to those who have inside information. That's how Tonks got into it."

"Who would have thought Tonks would ever do such a Muggle activity!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Too true," Ginny agreed. "Although I'm glad for her sake; at least we don't have to worry now where the next day's food is coming from.

"Remus still spends most of his time at The Leaky Cauldron. Some shops in Diagon Alley have reopened, and the place gets invaded by Muggle tourists now that it's no longer hidden by magic. I think Madam Malkin has never before made such good business, nor any of the other places, and mainly with Muggles.

"And, before I forget, the first issue of The Quibbler is coming out today. Remus has arranged for some classified notices in it, so hopefully, any survivors of last year's Hogwarts students will come forward. Tom agreed to let us use the Leaky Cauldron address."

Hermione took in all the news. She was wondering about Kingsley Shacklebolt, even more so because Snape was equally interested in the Auror's whereabouts, although she had no idea why.

Both young witches sat quietly for a while, each following their own thoughts until Ginny broke the silence.

"So, how have you been, Hermione? How is life with the greasy git?" Ginny smirked.

Hermione sighed inwardly. She was not quite ready to talk about life in Snape's home; or Parvati or Draco, come to think of it. Or the talking sessions with Red Cloud, even though she figured that Ginny of all people would probably understand her awe better than anyone else.

"It's been... strange," Hermione replied hesitantly, trying to find a way to satisfy Ginny's curiosity and at the same time not to divulge a lot. Then she continued more firmly, "He seems to have calmed down some. He doesn't sneer half as much as he used to in class. He's kind of more human now."

Ginny looked at her expectantly.

"And... he is a gifted pianist," she added with an air of finality. This was as much as she was willing to give for now.

Ginny's expression changed to shrewd. "He plays the piano? Hm. Red Cloud mentioned someone holding up the magic with music..." She thought for a while as if trying to capture a particular memory; then she shrugged. "Do you mean to say you enjoy staying with him?" Ginny asked, curiosity evident in her voice.

Hermione took her time to reply. "I guess. Enjoying is too strong a word, Ginny, but it's nowhere near as bad as I had anticipated," she said. "And compared to the days right after the battle, life is wonderful."

"Yeah, I know what you mean. I missed the battle, but I find it really tough coming to terms with it all. Sometimes, I just wish the battle had never happened. It's great that Voldemort is gone, but what kind of life is this? No magic, no idea what the future will bring, our world nearly completely destroyed..." she finished, leaving an air of depression.

After a short silence, Hermione took a deep breath. "So... where is Ron?" she asked.

"He's gone to The Leaky Cauldron with Remus. Remus has been spotting some witches and wizards, but it looks like they don't want anything to do with him." Ginny sighed. "You'd think they'd put their silly fears aside and combine forces to bring the magic back, but no chance! So anyway, that's why Ron has taken to hanging around there, to make more contacts with others from our world. Not that we've found out much. The magic is gone everywhere; not only here in England, but in France, Germany, and most other European countries as well, from what we've learned. Nobody has any idea how to make the magic work again." Ginny sighed again.

"Ginny," Hermione started carefully, "it's not easy at the moment, I know. But I do have hope that we'll find a way to bring the magic back. I'm working on it, and Snape is helping." Hermione was interrupted by a commotion coming from the front door before she had a chance to elaborate.

"Come on, man, only a few steps. You can make it," a voice growled as both girls hurried out of the kitchen towards the front door, the depressing state of the wizarding world momentarily forgotten.

Moody stumbled through the hallway, trying to hold an obviously injured and drugged Kingsley Shacklebolt.

Ginny instantly took charge. "Alastor, move him to the front room...he's in no state to climb stairs to the nearest bedroom. Put him on the sofa." She hurriedly moved to open the door, wiped some cushions off the sofa in one swift movement, and disappeared up the stairs in search of some bedding.

"What happened?" asked Hermione, disturbed by Shacklebolt's state. His shirt was torn in several places, blood dripping down his right shoulder, and his eyes were moving about wildly and unfocused. Moody managed to unload his charge onto the sofa and caught his breath as Ginny returned with pillows and blankets.

"I had been warning him, but he wouldn't hear any of it," Moody said. "Lucky for him, I kept him under constant surveillance. The idiot has been mind-controlled for weeks, if not months, but he insisted it was me being paranoid."

"All right, so your paranoia proved correct, old man. Big deal," the dark-skinned Auror slurred like a drunk and then winced audibly, pressing his left hand onto his right shoulder.

"Big deal," Moody snapped. "You would be dead if Tonks and I hadn't been there!"

Ginny had moved towards Shacklebolt to assess the extent of his injury but was stopped by him. "Who gave you permission to touch me?" he slurred, slapping her hand away.

Then he turned to Moody. "Yeah, I would be dead now, asshole! What gave you the right to decide if I should live or die? I'm supposed to be dead!"

The pain, and likely drugs too, got to him, and he blacked out, giving Ginny a chance to at least evaluate the extent of his injuries.

Hermione watched curiously as Ginny tended to the Auror's wounds. "Where did you learn all that, Ginny?" she inquired, observing her confidently taking care of Shacklebolt's shoulder, her face set in a concentrated frown.

"It's the kind of thing you can't help learning, growing up with six older brothers," Ginny replied. "All it takes is adapting it to work without magic." When she was satisfied with the state her patient was in, she turned to Moody. "Did Tonks go to The Leaky Cauldron?"

"She did. Said she'd inform Remus and Ronald," Moody confirmed.

"Let's go to the kitchen. It's more comfortable, and there's nothing I can do for Mr Shacklebolt right now. If we leave both doors open, we'll hear him if he wakes up," Ginny suggested.

She exited the room and headed to the kitchen, followed by Hermione and Moody, who moved to sit down at the table. Ginny prepared a new pot of coffee before she joined her friend and the old Auror.

They drank their coffee in silence until Moody grunted, "Have anything stronger, Miss Weasley?"

Ginny sighed quietly and opened a cupboard to reveal a bottle of Firewhisky. "You're in luck, Mr Moody," she said and poured him a generous amount. "Remus brought one from The Leaky Cauldron, but the stuff is getting rare."

Moody took a large gulp and nodded his approval at the liquid. "I appreciate it, Miss Weasley," he said in a normal voice that for once did not resemble the growl of an angry dog.

The next bout of silence was interrupted by the opening of the front door.

"I smell coffee," Tonks stated as she entered the kitchen, closely followed by Remus and Ron.

* * *

The first minutes of Hermione's reunion with Ron were pure bliss for her. Ron told her about Hedwig showing up as if the magic had never gone, how he felt more hopeful about the magic returning, even more so now that he knew that Hedwig had, indeed, delivered his letter.

"Of course, it would've been even better if she'd returned," he said, holding Hermione close to him, "but I guess that's asking a bit much."

Hermione refrained from telling him Hedwig's whereabouts, knowing that any reference to their former professor was a sore subject for Ron. He'll be okay with it, once we succeed in getting the magic back, she thought and simply enjoyed the physical closeness to him.

Eventually, Ron was unable to contain his curiosity. "So, how's life with the greasy git?" he asked, smirking as if expecting a tirade of bitter complaints, to which he could have replied, I told you so.

Hermione shrugged. "He's human, Ron. I'm researching possibilities to bring the magic back. He spends a lot of time playing music...it helps keep the last of the magic up," she explained.

Ron snorted. "Fancy that; you study, he plays."

Hermione felt the peaceful atmosphere that had prevailed initially slip away. "He's playing the piano, Ron. It keeps the magic around!"

"What? So he can practice Dark Magic? Or do the cooking?" asked Ron.

"I've not noticed him use Dark Magic. He's a rather good cook without having to use magic, Ron, just so you know. And who are you to judge some wizard's Muggle cooking skills anyway?" she challenged him.

Hermione was losing her patience with her boyfriend. She took a deep breath to calm herself and continued, "Ron, he needs to hold the magic because he's been taking care of Draco Malfoy ever since they fled Hogwarts. Draco is suffering from a severe depression, and it's only thanks to Snape that he's making some progress."

"Who the hell cares about Malfoy? He was the one who planned to kill Dumbledore, Hermione! Even if he didn't do it in the end!" Ron argued.

Hermione looked at him. "Are you saying that you would leave him to rot because he's responsible for a bad deed?"

"Duh! You can't expect me, or yourself, to look after a Death Eater; now, can you? Come on, Hermione, be serious!" Ron looked at her exasperatedly.

The realisation that Ron and she had been developing in very different, no longer compatible directions, a thought that had been lingering on the edge of her consciousness, both frightened and relieved Hermione. She slowly stood up and headed to the kitchen door.

"I think I need to be alone for a while. Excuse me," said Hermione, her voice sounding hollow even to herself.

She went upstairs to her former room without looking back. The familiarity of the room she had slept in every time she stayed at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, soothed her. Where am I going with this? she wondered as she sat down on the old, creaky bed and put her head in her hands, sighing heavily.

Hermione had been sitting on the bed for a while, trying to figure out a future that might not include a relationship with Ron, when she heard someone knocking at the door.

"Hermione! Can I come in, please?" She recognised Ginny's voice and stood up to open the door.

Ginny gave her a look full of sympathy. "Ron being a prat again?" she asked.

"I don't know, Ginny. I'm not even sure if we have any basis for a relationship anymore. He seems so full of hate where my actions or thoughts are concerned. But I can't just give up my hunt for the magic." Hermione let herself fall on the bed, her despair evident.

Ginny hugged her tightly. "You know, I've been wondering how you put up with him. I mean, don't get me wrong; he's my brother, and I love him dearly! But I also know that he has a lot of growing up to do. One would think that with the kind of experiences we've been having, he should have grown up overnight, but I guess we all react differently to trauma. And he's simply refusing to look at things from a different point of view. You, on the other hand, seem to have been born all grown up and mature. And Ron simply can't match that. At least not at the moment."

Hermione could not help but be impressed by Ginny's wisdom. "You are right, Ginny. His moaning about everything seems really childish. And he can't be serious about what he said about Draco; how he would leave him to his own fate." Hermione groaned. "Gods, Ginny, I know he's done wrong, but nobody deserves to be such a... vegetable. You know how he always was so full of life? His eyes were pure arrogance, I know, but ever so lively! And now, it's like looking at a corpse." Her thoughts trailed off to when she had seen Draco for the first time at Spinner's End, and she shuddered.

"You know, I always thought he was really handsome," Ginny admitted. "I always thought it was a shame he was such an arrogant bastard... If it hadn't been for his upbringing, I guess, he could be a great person."

"I know what you mean. Now, there's nothing of this arrogance left, and I doubt anyone would find him handsome. He's skinny as hell, and he stares into nothing most of the time when he isn't asleep." Hermione took a deep breath. "Anyway... Maybe Ron will grow up one day. I guess I can only hope."

"In the meantime, let's have some fun," suggested Ginny. "You look like you've been studying too hard, and I've been stuck in this place for too long. Let's go do some shopping tomorrow."

* * *

Hermione was unable to sleep. She had felt tired, even exhausted, and had gone to bed early, but sleep eluded her now. She reflected on her recent time spent at Spinner's End, feeling the urge to re-evaluate her opinion of Snape, now that there was a physical distance, and finally came to terms with the just-reached conclusion that a relationship with Ron was, at this point, not conducive to her happiness. She resolved to speak to him the following day after her shopping trip in the hope that both would by then have cooled down somewhat after their latest squabble.

Ron did not have the patience or inkling to wait until the next day. Hermione sighed when she heard the knock at her door. She got out of bed, none too pleased with the disturbance.

"What is it, Ron, that can't wait till tomorrow?" she asked tiredly.

"I've been thinking, 'Mione." Hermione shuddered at his abbreviation of her name, but remained silent.

Ron continued in an accusing voice, "I don't want to continue like this. We've both finished school, and I've always thought we'd live together after school."

Hermione drew a sharp breath. Ah, this is where he's coming from, she thought.

"Yes, Ron. I've thought that, too. I also thought Harry would be around. And I thought we'd all be training in one magical field or another so we could actually make a living," she replied.

"But Harry isn't around, Hermione. And the magic isn't, either. But you are, and so am I. Why do you have to run after a murderer instead and take Malfoy's side? Come on, let's move in together and forget about Snape," Ron said, desperation evident in his voice and looks.

Hermione shook her head. "Do you really not understand, Ron, or do you not want to understand? My first and utmost top priority is looking for a way to bring the magic back! To me, it doesn't matter whether it's with Snape's help or the Minister's. I don't care, as long as somebody shares my effort, and Snape happens to do just that!"

Ron rolled his eyes. "That's it? And for that, you risk our relationship?" he asked incredulously.

Hermione had enough. "No, Ron. All I'm doing is thinking beyond the initial euphoria that we might feel if we settled down together...with no magic, no jobs, heck, not even a home!" she exclaimed. "What do you think will happen if we live together, here or maybe at The Burrow if it's still standing. Without money, no jobs, no friends to speak of? I just can't imagine either of us being happy like that!"

"You don't care about my happiness, do you? Well, never mind. It's not like you're the only witch in the world. At least most other witches don't put the well-being of the entire world before their relationship!" With these words, he stormed out of Hermione's room and slammed the door.

So much for a future relationship to look forward to, Hermione thought mockingly and laid back down in bed.

She did not expect to be able to sleep now, after the heated debate with Ron, and was rather surprised when the alarm clock woke her some hours later.

A door slammed downstairs, and Hermione peeled herself out of the covers, wondering who had left so early, with such force.

Suddenly, her bedroom door was flung open, revealing a wild-eyed Ginny. "Oh, gods, Hermione!" groaned Ginny. "Kingsley just left; he ran out, I went after him, someone stopped him across the road, and then both disappeared! I can't believe it! Nobody can Apparate these days!"

Hermione was suddenly wide awake. "He left? But he's in no state to go anywhere! And there's only one..." She stopped speaking, remembering Snape's interest in the dark-skinned Auror.

Ginny looked at her curiously. "Go on, continue. You mentioned yesterday that Snape has some magic left."

Hermione groaned. "He asked me to find out about Mr Shacklebolt!" She sat back down. "Ginny," she said slowly, "whatever his interest is, I don't think it's anything bad. If Shacklebolt had gone back to his work, he'd probably be in far more danger than if he's with Snape. And I have a feeling that Snape knows about him because of Red Cloud. Shacklebolt was mentioned even in Pansy's letter."

"Red Cloud?" Ginny's voice perked up.

Hermione sighed. Now was as good a time as any to tell Ginny all about her stay at Spinner's End.

"Yes. Red Cloud. He's Severus' spirit guide. He talks to us, even Parvati and me, quite frequently, and he's giving me advice with regard to regaining our magic."

"Parvati? As in Parvati Patel?"

"It's a long story... Parvati was already there when I arrived. She's been there for a few months, helping with cosmetic potions that he sells. Draco's been there since Dumbledore died. Severus upholds the magic by playing the piano for hours every day. That way he can brew the magical potions that help Draco. And when there's some magic left, we use it for mundane things, like cleaning the floors and stuff like that." She laughed helplessly, knowing that no one else would find her experiences amusing, or even believable, and was awarded with a look of knowing sympathy.

"We've all had some very strange experiences recently," Ginny said. "And to be honest, if it is Snape who caught him before he got back into the hands of those Muggle scumbags, then I'm not worried. It looks as if Moody was right with his paranoia; I mean, Kingsley Shacklebolt has definitely been messed with," she added.

Hermione was unable to suppress a yawn. She said, "I better take a shower; hopefully that'll wake me up."

Ginny stood up. "I'll get the coffee brewing; then we can get ready to hit the shops."

The two friends headed first for the Muggle apothecary in Covent Garden, and Hermione found all the ingredients Snape wanted. The main errand now out of the way, they enjoyed themselves hunting for and eventually finding some clothing bargains in the lesser known and sometimes obscure back streets of Covent Garden.

When both felt hungry, Ginny suggested The Leaky Cauldron. "I know Tom started offering food again since it's become a place for our kind to find other survivors. We can eat there and then check out Diagon Alley."

Hermione agreed. She was curious about a Mugglefied Diagon Alley. "I wonder if the apothecary is open again," she mused.

"Let's check after lunch. The entrance is where it always was...it's just not hidden anymore," Ginny replied.

The young witches were halfway through their lunch, which comprised typical English pub fare, when Remus stepped in. He looked around, spotted Ginny and Hermione, and walked to their table, pulling some papers out of his scruffy looking jacket.

"Fancy seeing you here." He smiled and handed copies of The Quibbler to the girls. "No major news in the first issue. I'm quite impressed with the classified section, though; it's quite big," he commented.

Hermione leafed through the pages, skimming the headlines. The Worst Terrorist Is Gone...But At What Cost? read one headline; The Science Of Genetics And Its Application To Magic said another one. Hermione stopped when she reached the classifieds in the hope of finding news of someone, anyone she knew.

One notice shocked her to the core. It is with great sadness that I announce the passing of my beloved wife, Erin Brown, and my beloved daughter, Lavender. They saw no sense in continuing a life without magic. May they be happier where they are now. Aaron Brown

"Oh, Merlin," Hermione whispered. "Lavender. Dead." She shook her head in disbelief.

"There are five in there," Ginny stated flatly. "Five suicides, all because they couldn't envisage a life without magic."

"Yes, and these are only the only ones publicly announced. I have heard of others, too. There have been several suicides," added Remus quietly.

The witches and wizard finished their lunch in silence. Remus soon left to meet with some wizard in the hope of learning something about the whereabouts of Tonks' family.

Hermione and Ginny entered Diagon Alley, both subdued and too lost in their own thoughts to chat.

The atmosphere in London's main wizarding shopping street ripped Hermione out of her reverie. Whereas Diagon Alley had always been a haven compared to the mostly crowded Muggle shopping areas of Central London, it was now akin to a nightmare. Muggle tourists spoke loudly in a variety of languages, some gesturing wildly with their arms, completely ignoring all other passers-by on the narrow streets.

"Gods, Ginny, this is horrible! It's worse than Oxford Street the day before Christmas!" Hermione exclaimed.

Ginny nodded grimly. "Yes, it is awful. These people act as if they own the place. I can imagine how they're fascinated with the difference, compared with Muggle shops, but that's really no excuse to leave their manners behind."

"Let's just go straight to the apothecary. I don't think I can stand being here much longer," muttered Hermione.

As they walked past Eeylops Owl Emporium, Ginny suddenly stopped dead in her tracks.

"What..." Hermione did not need to finish her question as she glanced at the entrance. A poster was covering the door of the locked-up shop.

By Order of Her Majesty's Government:

- Ignorance of the Schedule to the Dangerous Wild Animals Act 1976

"Oh, no," whispered Hermione, "the Muggle Government has discovered Diagon Alley!"

She looked at Ginny, and both groaned in unison at the potential consequences. If the various Muggle government agencies cottoned on to all the magical shops in Great Britain, there would probably be not a single one left, save maybe Madam Malkin's; and even her shop would likely be swallowed by the rather military Muggle designer brigade who were keen to ensure uniform clothing for all under the disguise of dictating trends.

Their pace quickening, they made their way to the apothecary, which, to Hermione's relief, was open. Once inside, Hermione looked around curiously and increasingly disappointed. Gone were the jars with obscure contents, gone were the barrels filled with slimy unidentifiable items, which had always been the main focus at Diagon Alley's apothecary.

An old, short, miserable looking, nearly bald man slouched from the back of the store to the counter as Hermione approached from the front.

"Yes?" the man asked in a grumpy manner.

"Good afternoon, sir," Hermione said, "I have a few items I need, and I wonder if you have them in stock." She handed him a list with the potions ingredients Snape had asked her to obtain.

The old man took his time studying the list, then gave her a shrewd look.

"So... He survived, then," he said.

Hermione looked at him questioningly. "Sir?"

"Young lady, don't pretend you don't know who I'm referring to," he replied. "Tell him I'm in need of many ingredients. I'll pay triple the usual price if he can get me anything. I won't even question the quality. Things are looking bleak." That said, he went off to prepare Hermione's order, only to return almost instantly.

"I don't have armadillo bile, bicorn powder, or lacewing flies. And I don't know when I'll get them in again...most of my suppliers are from old families and don't have a clue about contacting others the Muggle way. And some magical ingredients might not be obtainable at all. If you want, you can leave a phone number with me, and I'll phone you when I have them in."

Hermione thought quickly. She did not want to give Snape's details out, in case any wizard might decide to go after him to revenge Dumbledore's death. The only other phone number she could think of was that of her parents' place. She gave him their number, paid him for the supplies he did have in stock and said good-bye.

***

Back in the kitchen at Grimmauld Place, the atmosphere seemed tense when Hermione and Ginny entered. Tonks shot Hermione an apologetic look, Ron's expression was smug, and Moody stood up, rushed out and came back almost instantly, glaring at Hermione. "You will not leave here without telling me where that traitor, Snape, is hiding," he growled, looking her up and down in an almost threatening manner.

Hermione gasped. Looking at Ron's smug face, it dawned on her how Moody knew who she had been spending her time with.

"I see," she said quietly, her face without expression. She turned to Moody. "And you decided that because?"

"Miss Granger, I don't care what your personal opinion is, Snape is a murderer and needs to be brought to justice," said Moody.

Hermione looked at him incredulously. "Who do you think you are, and how are you going to achieve that, Mr Moody?" she asked. "We have no knowledge of the whereabouts of most wizarding families, let alone the Ministry of Magic! Even if you catch him, what are you going to do? Bring him to justice, as you claim, single-handedly?"

She would have laughed at Moody's exceptional interest in bringing Snape down, had she not felt genuine sadness overcome her at the old Auror's determination. He knew no better the circumstances surrounding Dumbledore's death than anyone else, yet he had taken Harry's words as fact.

"There is always the Muggle police, Miss Granger," Moody pointed out coldly and smirked as Hermione gasped at his words.

"You'd go as far as getting him framed, wouldn't you?" she mused.

"What I would or wouldn't do is none of your concern. What is of your concern is your need to tell me his whereabouts," Moody stated.

Red Cloud, a little help, please, Hermione pleaded desperately. Under no circumstances would she betray Snape...even if she had not come to slowly change her opinion of him, she owed him her life. She also knew instinctively that on her own, she might well fail in trying to regain the magic. Even if, for some inconceivable reason, she managed to communicate directly with Red Cloud without Snape being present, she needed Snape's expertise in Potions to make the project successful. And the mere possibility of failure was even less of an option now since she'd learned about the suicides.

In the meantime, Ginny reprimanded her brother. "How could you, Ron? You claimed to love Hermione, and at the first opportunity, you betray her trust! You had absolutely no business telling anyone about how she spends her time!"

Ron shrugged. "She doesn't know what she's doing, and I will not have my girlfriend collaborate with a murderer," he countered hotly.

A snort escaped Hermione. "Girlfriend, my arse," she said, looking at him and feeling, for the first time, dislike towards him. "Do you seriously believe I could ever trust you again, Ron?"

Ron did not answer.

"I didn't think so, either," Hermione said dryly, earning admiring and agreeing grins from both Ginny and Tonks.

Hermione needed time to think. She would not be able to concentrate on how to get out of her predicament in the presence of Moody and Ron. If she did not get away from them soon, she would only be drawn into wasting her energy on fighting with the two wizards. Feeling the urge to breathe deeply, she did and then slowly stood up. "I will be in the room I always stay in. Mr Moody, I will not tell you anything. I have never been employed by the Ministry of Magic; therefore, I have no duty to tell you the whereabouts of someone whose past actions are obscure, especially not when I can be quite certain that you are acting out of sheer dislike for that person rather than genuinely wishing for justice." Without a backward glance, Hermione exited the kitchen.

She sat down on her bed and furiously wiped the tears out of the corner of her eyes. Stop those crocodile tears, Granger! Come up with a feasible plan of action instead! she chided herself.

When Ginny joined her sometime later, she found Hermione in deep concentration. "Don't worry, we'll find a way to get you out of here," she said.

Hermione startled at Ginny's voice. She had not heard her come in.

"And once you're safely back at Snape's, Tonks and I will throttle Ron," Ginny added, anger at her brother still blazing in her eyes.

Hermione snorted. "Don't bother with Ron, Ginny. The little bit of affection I was still holding is completely gone. I could not care less about him."

Ginny nodded. "I don't blame you," she said. "He's turned into a real prat."

The two young witches were silent for a while; then Ginny said, "Hermione, I'm happy to do anything to help you get out of here. You do know that, right?"

Hermione smiled gratefully at her friend. "I was hoping I could count on you." Then she asked, "So... what's the situation? Has Moody locked the front door? And is he standing guard?"

"Yep. Although I doubt Remus will agree."

Tonks appeared in the door, looking unhappy. "Remus won't agree. But the problem is, he's got a lead to several wizarding families in Cornwall and left to follow it. Considering the distance he has to travel, and without his own transport, he'll be gone at least a week, if not longer. And unless he phones me, which is unlikely, he won't know what Moody is up to.

"To Cornwall?" Hermione asked suspiciously. "When we parted after lunch at The Leaky Cauldron, he said something about finding out the whereabouts of your family!"

Tonks groaned. "If I find out Moody sent him on a wild goose chase, I will hex him into next millennium," she promised, seething.

"Okay, so Hermione is stuck here until Remus returns," Ginny mused. "Unless... we find another way for her to get out."

"Yes," agreed Hermione. "Merlin knows how many more suicides are going to happen with a whole week's delay in working on the magic to return." She sighed at the threat of wasting so much time.

The silence that followed was suddenly broken by a tap on the window. The witches looked up and exclaimed as one, "Hedwig!"

Ginny was the fastest, rushing to the window and letting the owl in. Hedwig ignored her late human's mate and flew straight at Hermione who smiled in relief. Her plea to Red Cloud had obviously been heard and answered. She untied the piece of paper from Hedwig's leg, opened it and started to read. Her face widened into a grin. She re-read the letter several times to memorise the content, then whispered almost reverently, "I believe in magic."

At that, Hedwig took off through the still open window, and the paper dissolved into nothing.

* * *

A/N: Big thanks go to NotSoSaintly who has such better ideas as to the use of commas than I do and who manages to tweak my overlong sentences into readable ones.