Hermione sat on the floor of her bedroom at the burrow. All around her were books scattered, stacked, open and closed. Among the debris were papers with notes scrawled up and down. She looked at the chaos, that’s all it can be called she though, but smiled at the knowledge. This where she felt best, when she knew what that going on, when she was learning something new, this is where she felt at home, with her knowledge. Out side that bedroom door was a world she knew everything and nothing about. She knew the meaningless workings of it all but only felt a shadow of a connection to it.
If there was anything in the world she hated it was shadows. Shadows were doubts, and the unknown, shadows were knowledge she had yet to attain and most of all shadows were the memories she might never regain. Hermione let out a huff of air and tried to mentally push the shadows back. Here was her happy place and she was not going to share. She picked up the nearest book and began to read, Hogwarts, A History, for the twelfth time. You could never learn too much in her opinion.
Hermione had just reached chapter seven, Ghost of Hogwarts, when there was a resounding bang from the lower levels of the house. Living in the Burrow provided with a few surprises and strange happenings but this was not normal. It was the early hours of the morning and usually the quietest part of the day. Hermione cautiously left her room and headed below stairs holding her ward in front of her. Her entire body was on high alert, each hair stood up on the back of her neck. There was something wrong. She could feel every creak the staircase made vibrate on her nerve endings. She listened intently for sounds that were not of her making as she continued on, ready to face what was down there.
Suddenly there was a violent sound from behind her. Hermione swiveled around to see a body flying at her, she had no time to react, she closed her eyes and aimed “Petrificus Totalus”she yelled. It was quiet. Hermione opened her eyes to see a quite stunned Ron mid sprint half way between one stair and another. Gravity seem to take action then and Ron fell forward as if in slow motion. Hermione tried to grab him but his height and weight prevented her from saving him. Instead his momentum pulled her down the flight of stairs as well. They were a tangle of frozen and flailing limbs as they hit what felt like every stair.
When they finally stopped a full flight of stairs later, Hermione was seriously rethinking the automatic use of magic. She had bruises from head to toe, and was rather lucky she hadn’t been killed. She spent a minute on the ground, reviewing the damages to her body when a sound from the kitchen brought her back to the present.
She stood and edged closer to the kitchen door, “Ron,” she said in a panic, “there’s someone in there! What should we do?” Silence met her question. “Ron… Ron!” She looked around in confusion, it appeared he had disappeared, only to realize he was still petrified on the landing. She muttered the counter-curse and helped him to his feet. He huffed at her as he brushed himself off and she smirked at him, sleep-tousled hair and too short pajamas. He’s just too good for his own good, Hermione thought with a softening of her insides. Ron raised his head to find her staring at him.
“Uh, Hermione… Someone is in the house remember? Stop standing around!” he whispered.
“Right!” Hermione jumped. “… What do we do?”
“Get in there and see who it is first off,” Ron said matter-of-factly. He shook his head at her and thought, she may be the smartest girl , no, woman, ever but sometimes!
Hermione stiffened at the statement of the obvious. She edged her way closer to the door and peered in. She could see a fire roaring in the heart, the only thing that registered before Ron stepped behind her. She could feel the heat radiating from his chest and the pressure from his legs. She fought the urge to melt against him and continued to try to focus.
The light from the fire showed a tall, beefy figure in the room. She didn’t recognize it right off, nor did she after a moment or two. Ron however did. He muttered a curse that still would have gotten his ears boxed if his mother was around.
“What, Ron? Who is that?” Hermione asked anxiously.
“It’s-” A rather large bang, the largest so far, caught the end of Ron’s statement. Hermione turned back to the kitchen to see that the intruder had left his mark and the building, which shook in protest.
When it stopped the kitchen had been reduced to ruin. The table cracked, cabinets open and empty, their contents littered the floor and the water valve apparently broken as the sink was spewing water everywhere. It looked like a war zone.
The last noise and its subsequent movement seemed to be enough to wake Arthur and Molly, who rushed down to see what in the world had happened. Both of their mouth gaped at the damage, not that it couldn’t be quickly magicked back to normal. However, that such a venomous act could be committed in their house without their knowledge was disturbing.
“Son, what in the world happened here?” asked Arthur in a state of shock.
“Goyle. He never was the smartest egg in the hen house. Then again, this could be on purpose, with him you never know,” Ron said. “The only thing I know is that this isn’t good.”
Hermione and Mrs. Weasley stepped forward into the wreckage careful not to harm them selves on the debris. Even having watched it, Hermione still couldn’t believe that this had happened. Not in the happy home she had been part of for the last month. The Weasleys didn’t deserve this, not in a million years. And Hermione had the inkling feeling that this was somehow all her fault. Guilt consumed her.
“Oh, well I have been meaning to changing the color of the walls for ages now,” Mrs. Weasley joked.
The others let out a feeble laugh. All of them pulled out their respective wands and set to work repairing the kitchen. They worked together to tackle the larger problems such as the sink, table, and major burns to the floor and walls. It wasn’t until they were an hour into the project that they noticed it. ‘It’ being the words that were magically etched into the brick of the fireplace. They read : “Mudblood be warned”. Hermione was the one to find them, and it solidified the guilt in the pit of her stomach. She also noticed that the fireplace was otherwise undamaged, signaling that this had definitely be intentional.
Before she could think about it she tried to rid the wall of this unsightly blemish, but instead of leaving, the words just burned a bright red, to Hermione’s horror. Soon the other occupants of the room were alerted to their existence.
They swarmed like moths to a flame. It was a while before someone spoke again. “Well, now we know it was deliberate. Hmmm. I never knew that Goyle had it in him to do magic this advanced. I wonder if Harry will be hunting him,” Ron mused.
Hermione just stared and the words, feeling sick to her stomach. Everything that this family has done for her and everything it has been through and this is how they were repaid. A destroyed kitchen and ugly words marring their fireplace, they, of all people, did not deserve this and it was all her fault. Mrs. Weasley seemed to sense the direction of Hermione’s thoughts because she linked arms with her and said softly, “Don’t even think it. You are not at fault here. It’s those blasted Neo-Dark followers. You have done nothing to bring this on. So, now everyone back to work,” Mrs. Weasley now addressed her husband and son as well. “Arthur, you and Ron repair the wall and beams, but leave the paint to me. Hermione, you and I will clean the floors, they could also use a good mop.”
Neo-Darks were the newest order of pure-blooded enthusiasts who were banding together in an effort to rid the wizarding world of half-blood and Muggle born wizards and witches. So far they hadn’t gained a lot of attention, however people with connections to the ministry knew what had been happening, what had been covered up.
***
Ron stretched his sore muscles the next morning. Cleaning had lasted so long that he didn’t even have a time for a nap before work, in fact he barely had time to shower before Appareating to his office. He was the Assistant to the Head of Magical Games and Sports, a rather good job for a man who had missed his last year of wizarding school. Seeing as nearly half of the school had been missing for that year there was a summer catch up put into place, and exams on the 31st of August. He and Harry had done well enough to not have to attend for the actual school year.
He had yet to tell anyone of the incident the night before, though he was sure Ginny knew by now. She left the children under Mrs. Weasley’s care when she went to work at Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes in Diagon Alley. But she often arrived early enough for a cup of tea and a chat with her mother. Then again if Ginny knew then Harry surely would and there would be nothing stopping Harry from coming straight to Ron demanding why he wasn’t called when the action started.
Ron shook his head to clear his thoughts and focused on the petition for a junior Quidditch league to be established in England, Ireland and Scotland. Interesting idea, he though as he pursued the document more thoroughly.
By lunch he and the Head had emptied half of the inbox even with the numerous memos zipping into the office. Ron was heading down to the dining hall, which was an imitation of the Hogwarts Great Hall. His food had just appeared before him when someone sat down beside him.
“Where do you get off not telling me something like that happened?” Harry demanded.
“You just found out? Being married to Ginny should have had you informed this early this morning. Being an Auror should have had the information on your desk by mid morning. What held you up?” Ron asked casually while examining his meat pie, it looked ok to eat. Sometimes when the cooks were angry the food would suffer.
“I was looking at the damage at the Burrow. I would have known sooner if you had just told me.”
“I would have told you if it had mattered. He was gone before anyone of us could do anything anyways, since Hermione had me in a Full-Body Bind and my parents are so used to noises that the small bangs didn’t faze them.”
“You still should have told me.”
Ron made a mm-hmm sound as he dug into his pie and the rest of the meal continued in silence.
***
An hour later Ron was in his office again looking over a report about skittish broomsticks when Harry ran into the office looking flustered. Ron put down the paper, he was beginning to get irritated. Harry shouldn’t be in his office, he should be off hunting for Goyle and other Neo-Darks, since that was his job.
“We talked about this Harry. I should have told you, okay, now stop being a git and pestering me about it,” he said.
“Ron…” Harry started. “it’s not that… it’s Hermione.”
“What about Hermione?” Ron demanded. When Harry hesitated he said more forcefully, “Tell me now!”
“Her-Hermione is missing Ron. She can’t be found anywhere!”
Ron felt a numb sensation fall over him, he almost felt as though he was floating. This can’t be happening, not when I’ve just found her again. Not again…
A/N: Well there you go, chapter five. What did you think? Chapter six: Return from La-La-Land will be the next installment. A Fragile Memory will return after this commercial break, so stay tuned.
A Fragile Memory by secret_lover
Chapter Notes: A/N: Okay… I am sorry for the delay. Writer’s Block. I was actually considering dropping this altogether but then I got a phone call from home. One of my best friends had died in a car accident, and she loved this story. So this one is for you, Ashley, because even angels read Harry Potter fan fics. And thank you readers. Jo owns the world… or at least the one we all know we wished we lived in. Big thanks to Katie for being the beta. Lather, Rinse and Review