26. Gt PW bck hm

Hermione was at home, sitting on her bed in her own room, having been unceremoniously dumped there by Lord Death. It was midafternoon, so her parents were still at work. They'd be surprised to find her returned so soon as she had told them she would probably be staying with Ginny until after the wedding.

Reg and Kirlie had followed her with Death's blessing. Reg sat in a chair across from her, trying not to stare at this new object of his devotion while Hermione checked her mail, a huge pile of envelopes and scrolls her parents had saved for her.

Kirlie circled restlessly above them, muttering to himself. Damn, I could use a fix about now. You got any Doxy venom in the kitchen, luv?

"Heavens no," said Hermione, as she tossed the last of the Muggle post, a dozen adverts, into the bin. "My parents are Muggles. Anyway, you're a ghost. You couldn't actually swallow it, could you?"

He shrugged elaborately. One can hope.

"Doxy venom is poisonous, isn't it?"

Only in small doses. It's a great high…

She dismissed his prattling with a sniff. "Only in small—that doesn't make any sense." She started reading her owl posts. This particular Weird Sister was beginning to get on her nerves.

But Kirlie had taken center stage. Doesn't make any sense? What on this blasted earth does? But it's simple enough. The more you take, the less the danger. At least, that's what my dealer said.

Hermione picked up a brightly colored circular advertising a sale at Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes. "That doesn't sound right," she said in her most didactic tone of voice. "My Advanced Potions text says Doxy Venom can be seriously injurious to the internal organs in any concentration. But I think Fred and George were going to use it in some of their tricks."

Who're they?

"Friends of mine. They're twins…." She opened another scroll. "Oh, goodie, an Order meeting… but it was last Tuesday. Bother."

Kirlie perked up a bit. You mean the Weasley brothers? I met 'em once. Great illusionists. They were going to help the band with some… pyro-whatsis… but their candy-assed brother got into it….

She unrolled yet another missive. "Who do you mean?" she murmured absently. Noting the letter's familiar, sloping scrawl, she blushed and put it in her pocket to read later. "Not Ron, was it?"

Nope. Name's Pervy or something.

Hermione frowned. "You mean Percy?"

That's the bloke. He heard us talking at that Yule Ball of yours and put the kibosh on what would have been a boffo ending to the evening.

"Which was?"

You know that Muggle song, "The Twelve Days of Christmas"?

"Mmm-hm."

Well, I wrote some new lyrics for it. You know—Kirlie started crooning in his trademark rasp—"four vampire bats, three French hags, two screaming harpies, and a bubbling vat of Polllllleeee-jooooooooce."

"So what was wrong with that? I can't imagine even Percy objecting to a simple parody."

Well, his good bros were going to illustrate it while we sang.

Hermione looked up. "Illustrate? You mean—"

Make 'em appear with some discreet Accios.

"The bats and the hags?"

Yep. And the harpies.

Hermine tutted. "Well, its a good thing Percy did stop you."

Oh, come on, luv, it was all in good fun.

"Whatever. But it's funny, your mentioning Percy. His name is on Professor Dumbledore's list."

Reg brightened at this. Talk about drugs always made him uneasy as it was the chief way poets (and artists in general) met their ends. "What does the list say, my lady?"

"Erm, it's Hermione, if you don't mind, Reg. I mean, I don't fancy being a lady in anyone's eyes." Well, maybe I would in one person's, she thought, patting the scroll in her pocket.

"As you wish." He bowed.

Hermione suppressed a giggle. "As I interpret it, the next item has to do with getting Percy reconciled with his family."

That won't be easy, said Kirlie.

"Why not?" said Reg.

There's bad blood between them. I smelt it at the Ball. When ol' Perce put his foot down, his brothers looked frozen daggers at him, and the room went, like, Antarctic.

"Yes," said Hermione. "Percy's siding with the Ministry against his father and the Order of the Phoenix, a group Professor Dumbledore started to combat Voldemort. He's said some terrible things to his parents and hasn't been home in years. Mrs. Weasley's heart is about broken. He was her favorite."

It figures, said Kirlie. Mothers always go for that type, until it's too late. All ambition and no heart. But I won't be much help to you on that. I've never been good at patching up broken relationships. Jeez, I got more ex-girlfriends than an ogre has warts.

Hermione had gone back to her reading. "Oh, darn," she exclaimed.

"What is it?" Reg asked politely.

"A friend of mine—a teacher—has sent me an owl asking a favor." She turned to Kirlie. "Do you remember Hagrid? The groundskeeper at school?"

Who wouldn't? He was, like, that scary, luv.

"Actually, he's quite gentle. But he has a brother named Grawp who's a giant—"

A brother who's a giant? Freaky! I always thought Hagrid was a bit—you know—large, but I never thought... Whoa! Friend of mine bet me he was part troll, seeing as how he can't do magic or anything, but he couldn't prove it, so I won…

"What is the favor he's asking, my—Hermione?" asked Reg, to keep things on track.

"Well, Hagrid rescued Grawp from his family in some mountains—in eastern Europe, I think. He's a bit small for a giant and they were treating him terribly. So Hagrid brought him back here and made him a home in the Dark Forest near the school. Apparently Grawp fought him every step of the way, but, as time went on, he got used to the idea of having a brother, and he calmed down quite a bit. But now Hagrid's out of the country, traveling with—erm—a friend. He writes that he wants me to visit Grawp and take him this barrowful of melons he's saved up. He's afraid without human contact, Grawp'll go wild again."

"So you need to visit him."

"I think I'd better. That next task can wait a day," she said, hoping her calculations were correct.

~*~

On arrival at Hogsmeade, Hermione headed directly for Hagrid's place at Hogwarts and the very full wheelbarrow. She had to push it into the forest without a Lightening Charm, since she couldn't be sure Minister Scrimgeour had gotten that decree repealed yet. It was rough work to say the least. Along the way, she came upon some flyers Dolores Umbridge's minions had nailed to trees the year before, bearing Hagrid's image, and offering a reward for information on his whereabouts. She pulled them off and ripped them to shreds. Merlin, how she hated that woman!

After about twenty minutes of trundling along over uneven terrain, she came to a wide marshy area. She stood for a moment, trying to think of a non-magical way to get herself and her burden across it without getting bogged down in the muck.

Behind her a voice called: "Hallo!" It sounded a bit like Ron. She turned joyously, and got a glimpse of red hair in the bushes. Maybe he was going to visit Grawp himself.

But this person was shorter than Ron, and his hair was a good bit neater. "Oh… Percy… hello…"

Ron's older brother was dressed in his usual somber robes, the gleaming, starched collar of his shirt and a tie the color of overcooked broccoli showing at his neck. "Hermione, this is a surprise. What are you doing here? And with a load of—what are those?"

"Melons. They're a… gift. I'm taking them to——erm——a relative of a friend… as a favor… "

"In the Forbidden Forest?"

"Yes."

Percy Weasley frowned deeply, which reminded Hermione of his mother at her most overprotective, but he stopped short of waggling an admonitory finger at her. "That's very foolhardy, Hermione, especially since you're not allowed to do magic."

Hermione stared at the expanse of swamp before her. She was too tired to be irritated. A sigh escaped her. "It has been rather difficult…."

He softened a bit. "You know, I thought Educational Decree Number Twenty-Nine a good idea when Undersecretary Umbridge suggested it, but now I'm not so sure, at least for people like you." He seemed reluctant to go on. "So who is all this fruit for?"

"It's a little difficult to explain——"

"Is it for the centaurs? A peace offering from that fellow Firenze?"

"Well, not exactly…"

But Percy was lost in his own thoughts. "I should have thought of doing something like that myself. I'm here to visit them, you know."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Remember last year, when Professor Umbridge was attacked in the forest?"

Hermione knew quite well, having been, in a way, the instigator of said attack, but few people knew that story, so she just nodded.

Percy amplified, "Well, she lost her wand in the tussle, and her briefcase, and she's been in a right snit all this time to get them back."

"That's a long time to be in a snit."

He struck that familiar, self-important pose—shoulders square, chest outthrust—which Hermione had once thought well earned, but now found merely tiresome. "She's been very busy, you know. Lots of new regulations since You-Know-Who returned. And now the Minister's changing things again."

"In what way?"

"Oh, he's trying to repeal some regulations he put in place recently. It's odd, you know. It's almost like he's turned into a different person."

"Oh, really," said Hermione, unable to keep a trace of smugness from creeping into her voice.

Percy prattled on. "And, would you believe it? Some malcontents are accusing the Undersecretary of—well—malfeasance. Mere technicalities, I'm sure…"

"Well, good luck looking," said Hermione doubtfully. "Apart from it being an awfully long time ago, I think her wand was broken in the struggle."

"How would you know that?"

She thought quickly. "Erm—oh—I just heard a rumor to that effect—from Hagrid, I think."

Percy looked at her sharply. "You've seen him recently?"

"Seen him? No."

"I only ask because the French Ministry is looking to question him about the whereabouts of that Madame Maxime. Too bad, because he could help me with questioning the centaurs. Madam Umbridge wants her things back at any cost. And she thinks I can negotiate with them, but frankly I think it's a bad bet all around. But say, I'm in no hurry myself. Why don't I help you deliver your gift?"

"Oh, that's not necessary…"

"Listen, Hermione, if you must know, I feel a bit guilty about all this. I mean you're of age, and a very responsible witch. I'm sure that Decree was meant for, you know, students who—well—can't handle the responsibility—"

"Like Harry Potter? And Ron?"

"Well—if you must know—yes. But I have to admit I'm not sure about that either anymore. Anyway, let me help you. Please?"

"All right. If you could just Fly the barrow over to the path, and then Lighten it a bit, I'm sure I can handle it from there."

But Percy insisted on accompanying her all the way to her destination, citing fear for her safety. He seemed really sincere, not at all like he was using this as an excuse to spy on a friend of Harry's. No matter that he was something of a prat most of the time; this was a sweet thing for him to do. But it still made Hermione nervous. What would he say when he saw Hagrid's huge little brother?

As they walked, Hermione answered Percy's questions about the duel at the Ministry. He apologized for not believing that Voldemort had returned. "Even though several Ministry officials and Minister Fudge himself testified to what they saw as they Floo-ed into the Atrium. Even though Madam Bones recognized him. She said he was much changed, but she knew him all right."

"He killed her whole family, didn't he?"

"Yes." Percy shuddered and was silent a moment. Hermione realized they were close to Grawp's lair and knew she would have to prepare her companion for what he was about to see. She explained about her errand and the presence of the boy-giant in as few words as she could manage. Surprisingly, Percy was not much surprised. "That sounds like something Hagrid would do," he said dryly.

They arrived at a clearing. Percy took in the uprooted trees, the piles of smashed birds-nests, the broken boulders. He grasped his wand tightly.

Hermione gathered her courage. "Grawp, Grawwwp! It's Hermy."

Her voice echoed back to her in the stony silence. She took a deep breath and tried again. "I brought you something, Grawp… a present…from Hagrid…"

From the other side of the clearing, a voice boomed, "HAGGER! WHERE HAGGER?" And what had looked to be a pile of boulders stood up and lumbered towards them.

Percy raised his wand, but Hermione laid a hand on his arm and whispered, "I'm sure he's harmless. Let's save that for a last resort, shall we?" Then she wheeled the barrow into the clearing. Grawp reached her and wrenched it from her grasp.

"WHAT THESE?" he rumbled.

"A nice treat—from your brother," Hermione explained, and he sniffed, then poured the whole lot down his maw, munching and smacking. Seeds and pulp and juice ran down the sides of his mouth, but he didn't bother to wipe them way, just ran his vast pink tongue about his grimy lips.

"MMM—GOOD—FANKS, HERMY." He looked around. "HUH! WHERE HAGGER?"

Hermione told him that his brother had important business on the continent that could not wait and that Grawp might not see him for several more weeks. Tears rolled down his great nose and splashed on the rocky ground next to her. "I—MISS—HAGGER," he said and sat down with a thud, burying his huge face in his hands and swaying back and forth. Hermione patted his big toe and introduced Percy, who looked a little misty himself.

"PERFY?" Grawp asked.

Percy didn't bother to correct him. Instead, he asked politely after Grawp's family, which inspired a fresh spate of weeping.

"Do you miss your mother, Grawp?" asked Hermione.

"I—GOT—NO—MUMMY—ONLY BUBBIE. HAGGER—OH, HAGGERRRRRR." He rolled away from them, whimpering, and his sobs caused small tremors in the earth nearby. "HOPE YOU OKAY… BUBBIE…. PLEASE COME BACK… I PROMISE… NO MORE POKES INNA EYE…."

Percy just looked at him for about a minute. Then he pointed his wand at the barrow and it folded into a rectangle of wood like a large picture frame. He rummaged in his pocket and took out a piece of paper. It was one of those Wanted Posters with the sketch of Hagrid on it, like the ones Hermione had destroyed.

"Found this in the woods," Percy mumbled. He trimmed off the printing and Enlarged it until it fit the frame. "Here, Grawp," he said. "This is for you. Something to remember your brother by." He rubbed his nose as if it was itching.

Grawp took the picture in his huge paw, stared at it, then cradled it to his chest. "AW… HAGGER," he said. FANK-OO, PERFY… FANK-OO, HERMY!" He reached out and enveloped them in a hug, which turned out to be quite gentle since Percy had had the presence of mind to surround himself and Hermione with a Cushioning Charm.

When they finally left, Percy said haltingly, "I never knew… giants could show affection—I mean—Grawp seems to… really care for Hagrid."

Honestly, thought Hermione. Sometimes he can be so dense. "Well, they're brothers, you know—family. No matter what happens… you can't ever really hate your—" Hermione stopped short in embarrassment.

Percy frowned in thought. "No, you're right. I've had a lot to think about since Harry showed us that the Dark Lord returned. About which is the right side—Dumbledore's or the Ministry's."

"Well… they're both fighting the same evil now."

"Yes, but are they really? Do you know, Hermione, I went to a party a couple of months ago at the Minister's and took Penny. Professor Umbridge took me aside and said I could do better! And she handed me a copy of that damned Wizarding Genealogy and intimated that my chances at advancement would improve if I…"

"… married a Pure-Blood," murmured Hermione.

"Right in one! And now she's got me out here looking for her wand—for Merlin knows what insane reason."

"I can give you one," said Hermione, taking a chance. "She used that wand to summon the Dementors to little Whinging last year, to try to silence Harry. If anyone thinks to use a Priori Incantatem on it, they might just discover the truth. And I bet her briefcase holds a few more secrets she doesn't want anyone to know about."

For a few long seconds, Percy looked at her. Then: "I don't have time for this nonsense. Let her stew in her own juices. There's something more important I need to do. But let me help you get home first."

He took her arm and she Side-Along-Apparated with him to her house. The last thing she heard as he Disapparated out were the words: "I hope you're home, Mum."

~*~

She entered her room. A parti-colored troubadour and a long-haired ghost dressed all in black looked up from their game of hang-man.

"Finished your delivery?" asked Reg.

"Yes," squeaked Hermione, "and something unexpectedly wonderful happened along the way." And she told them what.