Chapter 12

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Chapter Twelve

Harry thought it odd when he saw the Ministry's seal on correspondence so late in the evening. Of course he received mail from them regularly, but it was usually in his office. He didn't have the best feeling about this, and, unlike Trelawney, most of his hunches were dead-on. When Ginny looked back at him, he knew she felt it, too.

"Want me to open it, Gin?" he asked, even though he knew she rarely accepted his protection.

"I got it." She tore the seal and opened it, walking toward the fireplace. As soon as she started to read, though, Harry had to bolt three feet to catch her. And she let him, a look of frozen shock on her face.

"Ginny, what the hell is going on?" Hermione asked, shakily, grabbing the parchment. She didn't look at it, though, until she was back next to Draco. If this was going to be bad, she didn't want to read it without him.

While Harry was trying to hang on to a now sobbing and convulsing Ginny, Draco and Hermione looked at each other and then at the letter. Before Draco had finished the first two sentences, he wished he had insisted on reading first. Hermione was already screaming, though, and neither of them cared that Harry and Ginny could eventually notice Draco holding onto her with his face in her hair, kissing her head and trying to tell her that it would be okay.

"Ginny, please tell me what is going on!" shouted Harry, the only one left who had no idea what that bloody parchment said. Draco just handed it to him so he could read for himself, Harry not even noticing that his arms were wrapped around Hermione.

Harry,

Kingsley Shacklebolt

At first, Harry just stood there blankly, and then his arms limply dropped. He stepped backwards into his chair and sat, just staring forward. Having lost her support, Ginny looked up at him, her eyes so red they looked like they were bleeding.

She walked carefully to him and knelt, not sure if she should even touch him. She risked whispering a shaky "Harry?" Suddenly he sucked in a sharp breath, clutching his stomach. He just sat there breathing hard, in and out, in and out, holding his arms tightly around himself as if he were trying to hold in his last bit of sanity. Ginny could only bend her head to cry into his knee.

Draco did feel grave concern for his former father-in-law, but he was far more troubled with trying to keep Hermione from falling to pieces. He knew Pansy and Lilias would be devastated, but he had to wonder if Pansy would secretly hope to receive her inheritance early. Perhaps that was a cruel thought.

On that note, he sent a quick Patronus to let Shacklebolt know that Pansy had been with her mother today. He supposed a message probably awaited him at home, informing "Mrs. Malfoy" about her father since only one well-paid witch at the Ministry knew about his quiet divorce.

As he turned back to put his arms around Hermione again, he realized that the selfish Slytherin in him was also beginning to worry that his new relationship was already over. Sometimes near tragedies caused reunions, and if Ron was still alive, he knew he could lose Hermione as fast as he had found her. He might be on his own with his mother now, too.

The pit of his stomach was suddenly beginning to tighten with panic, but he knew he had to bury his fears for the moment. Hermione needed to be held, and he would hold her until she told him to let go.

XXXXX

Before they even flooed into the Burrow's entrance, Hermione could hear Molly's wailing. She didn't have any idea how to face Mrs. Weasley, knowing that she may have lost another child, and knowing that she probably hated Hermione now despite Ginny's assurances to the contrary. Come to think of it, they probably all hated her. As soon as George spotted her, though, he rushed to her for an emotional hug.

"Hermione." It was a simple greeting, but contained messages of anguish, wishing, and comfort. "Are you okay?"

"I wasn't, but I've decided to keep hoping that we find him."

"Me, too. I can't do this again..."

"I know, George."

"We were all bloody fucking pissed at him for leaving you, but it seems colossally stupid now to have reacted without even bothering..." He couldn't finish, but she understood. The torture of having your possible last conversation with a loved one be negative... she knew the feeling.

At that moment, George seemed to realize for the first time that Draco was standing there. His face faltered a bit, not having any clue why Malfoy would show up. "Uh... hi, mate..."

"Hi, George. Er... I hope this turns out well." It sounded lame, but that was the best he could do. Hermione had begged him to come along, and he honestly couldn't believe he had given in to such an awkward intrusion of the Weasleys' privacy.

It was only when Potter sided with her that he had finally conceded. Harry thought they should all stay together considering the connection between Draco and Mr. Parkinson and the fact that they still had a search to conduct when they could. Now he wished he could crawl out of his skin and hide in the fireplace.

Just then, Mrs. Weasley looked up and saw him. Apparently Ginny had walked straight over to her mum and dad upon arriving and had eventually pointed out that he and Hermione had come along. As Mrs. Weasley's eyes found his, all he could think of was that bloody Howler during second year, and he braced himself to be unmercifully booted out. To his utter astonishment, she stood up and ran over to them, arms outstretched.

He didn't think he had ever been hugged before. In fact, he was sure of it. His family was far too formal, and fucking girls didn't quite count as huggish. She unashamedly squeezed him with all her might, though, and he literally had no idea how to react. He had practically been bred on hatred of Weasleys, and although he had placed that aside for most members of their family, he didn't exactly consider them to be friends. She hugged on, though, until she was good and ready to let go.

"Oh, Draco! Thank you so much for coming! You must be beside yourself about Mr. Parkinson...I'm so sorry, dear. Do make yourself at home." He wasn't exactly sure how to do that without touching anything. The place was truly just... an abomination. Nevertheless, he nodded to her in thanks. He had no idea what Ginny had said to her parents, but it must have convinced them that his presence wasn't completely perplexing. Hopefully word would reach Percy and Bill across the room before their glaring daggers impaled him.

As soon as she'd finished with Draco, Mrs. Weasley turned to Hermione, pulling her into a tearful hug. "This is all my fault, Hermione! How will I... what will I do if..."

Hermione's tears were overflowing again as she replied, "No, Molly, this is my fault. I pushed him too hard...I didn't give him enough time. I..."

"Let's go sit down, dear." She put her arm through Hermione's and motioned for Draco to follow. Most of the family was around the kitchen table, just sitting... just... waiting. It was more depressing than the Manor.

Mrs. Weasley pulled Hermione into a chair next to hers, and Draco hung back awkwardly. "Hermione, you won't believe what I've done. I was so furious with Ron for leaving you, for losing you, really. I knew how things had been for you both... all I could do was yell at him, in truth, or stay in my room, fuming. This morning..." She started to choke on her words, and Hermione took her hand.

After a few seconds, Molly continued, "This morning, I forced him to go out and look for a job... oh, Hermione! I didn't even know he had found something! I was ranting and raving around the kitchen this evening about how he must have failed to find anything and couldn't manage to be a grownup and face me, and then we received our owl from the Ministry. I just can't bear it if the last thing..." At this, she began to wail again, and Arthur pulled her up into his arms to try and comfort her.

XXXXX

It seemed like hours had passed, and they had all spent the time leaning on shoulders, wiping tears and exhausting the firewhiskey supply. Draco remained in his position, leaning against a wall, although he did accept the whiskey.

At long last, someone besides him was going stir crazy, and Harry motioned for Draco and Hermione to join him and Ginny in the library. Or, as Draco could immediately clarify, the rundown, dusty chamber of mismatched wooden shelves with a couple of worn couches and a severely gouged desk. Maybe that was the Weasley version of ornate carvings?

They all sat gratefully on the fluffy couches, Draco having stood too long to care if they were contaminated. As Ginny leaned into Harry, Hermione absently leaned into Draco, and he wondered if he should clear his throat or something to remind her that they were in front of people who still considered her to be married to Ron and had no clue how much his and Hermione's relationship had... progressed. She snuggled up too quickly, though, and he chanced a look at Ginny to see if any fireworks were about to go off. She was looking, all right, but she just had a curious expression on her face, as if wondering why he wasn't attempting to crawl away.

He noticed Potter looking, too, and he apparently couldn't overcome his curiosity because he asked, "So... when did you two become... friends? I thought...I mean, you said this afternoon that Malfoy had hired you, but..." He was looking at Hermione, clearly presuming he had a right to some answers.

"Potter, I hardly think this is any of your business, and she's obviously in no condition to field your accusations just now." Draco's surge of protectiveness felt foreign to him, but he was surprised to find that he didn't mind. He had become a comforter and protector to his nemesis in the scope of one day, but it felt like second nature, as if he had played the role his whole life.

Harry was already lifting off the edge of his seat, and Hermione knew she had to jump in before Harry and Draco faced off over her. "Harry, you don't have to do the big brother thing. It's okay...really. As you said, Malfoy and I are... friends."

Ginny raised an eyebrow, but she remained quiet.

"Er... okay. Sorry then...." Harry looked baffled, but he scooted back, pulling Ginny's head back onto his shoulder. He couldn't fit in his confusion about this new connection between his worst enemy and best friend with all the rest of today's events anyway.

"So, what did you want then, Potter?" Draco asked, trying to control his voice and get back to being civil. He didn't want Hermione any more upset than she already was, and he didn't want to be a complete arse to someone who was on his side right now.

"Well, I don't know about you lot, but I can't sit in silence doing nothing but worrying for too long," Harry replied, also making an effort to regain composure. "We can't do anything but wait for news, so we might as well use our time to strategize our response to the Death Faeries."

He is such an Auror. Draco never failed to be amused by Potter's gung ho hero talk. It was a good idea, however, so he started glancing around for some parchment and a quill. Spying some on that pitiful pine desk behind the opposite couch, he asked, "Ginny, do you think anyone will mind if we use that parchment?"

"No, of course not. That's a good idea." Good gods. A compliment from the she-weasel. This whole thing was spiraling out of control.

They spent the next hour talking about the characteristics of the Death Faeries and trying to find some kind of chink in their armor. Pendington's certainty that there was no way to stop them was daunting, but there just had to be a way.

"What about trying to provoke them into attacking one of us so the others have time to rescue Mrs. Malfoy?"

"Yeah, Gin, if we could find a way to have some sort of shield of protection around that person, it might work," Hermione encouraged.

Harry furrowed his brow. "What could possibly be impervious to those teeth, though?"

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves here. Do we even know the conjuror couldn't override the distractions? It won't help to lure the creatures if someone merely has to command them back to attention. Besides, what could divert them?"

Draco had a point, but Hermione was convinced that no creatures could be invincible. "Wait a second. Harry, you are an expert at expelling wands from the villains, right?" He blushed a little and Draco could not help but roll his eyes. "Maybe you could handle the person on the bench while another of us distracts the beasts, however we decide to do that. Then there will be two people left to see to Mrs. Malfoy, and there will be no one calling the Death Faeries back to task."

"I don't think we should assume that there is only one person in that chapel, or that it's even going to be a chapel. Remember how Voldemort gave Harry that vision of torturing Sirius? Harry only saw what Voldemort wanted him to see, and we went in there blind. If we expect to be surprised this time, maybe we'll be more prepared."

Ginny was right. They were assuming an awful lot, based on a dream, but they really didn't have anything else to go on. "I'm not sure what we can do about that, though, aside from being ready to deal with more than one person," Harry responded.

"Still, love, we might also be lured into a venue with plenty of protective or offensive spells in place, and we have to be ready to disarm wards and traps. I just think it would be prudent to review some of our best hexes and spells from the war is all."

Just then, screaming erupted from the kitchen, so the four of them bolted from their comfy spots, Draco stuffing their notes in his pocket.

"St. Mungo's! Now!" shouted Arthur as they ran in, and no one bothered to ask questions. One by one, they each flooed immediately to the healing facility's reception area, out of breath with adrenaline and making record time.

"Would anyone mind telling us what is going on?" spat Ginny, hurrying with the group to the front desk.

"It's Ron, obviously," George managed a bit breathlessly. "They found him in the wreckage at Brothers and Brooms, but we have no idea what condition he's in, of course." George tried to soften his words a bit at the end, but he was terrified with hope and therefore a bit abrupt.

Harry and Hermione took in George's news silently as they followed, but Draco knew they must be paralyzed with emotion. He sure could relate, knowing his mum might still be alive, but not knowing if he could have her back.

As Molly began to hurry from the desk toward the lift, it was apparent that she had received the needed information. Compacting their entire group into one cubicle was a bit challenging, but no one, not even Draco, was willing to wait for the next ride. The silence was broken often by nervous breathing, but the whole party remained uncharacteristically wordless until they reached the sixth floor, Critical Care. Hermione wasn't alone in sucking in a small gasp upon reading the disquieting sign.

Arthur led the way down the corridor, Molly's arm intertwined with his, Arthur with a serious expression, Molly with wide-eyed panic. The Healers' Station attendant raised her eyebrows when she saw the size of the entourage, but Draco cast a quick Confundus charm to keep them moving. They may not have a moment to lose, and although a plethora of selfish thoughts were racing in his mind right now, he knew the Weasel was important to Hermione, divorce pending or not. He just hoped the divorce pending part didn't change.