Morsmordre
July, 1994.
“Lumos,” Hermione whispered, moving her wand in front of the book she was trying to read underneath the thick quilt Mrs. Weasley had knitted her. She was in the burrow and had been sharing a room with Ginny Weasley for the majority of the summer. Ginny was a sweet girl of thirteen, always speaking in a way which made her seem older than she was. She was elegant, yet funny, and kind. Always kind.
The girls would stay up late into the night remarking on Ginny’s latest crush from Hogwarts, Dean Thomas, who she had been owling since she first returned to the burrow. She would rant about how he said they had to be friends because Ginny was too young and how that was completely absurd considering he was only in the year above her. Hermione listened intently, amused. She had never so much as attracted a fly in her time at Hogwarts, and yet Ginny, a year younger than her, was already catching the eyes of several boys. It didn’t bother her much, it was just interesting to listen to.
She wasn't surprised that Ginny talked to boys during the summer. She was exceedingly gorgeous. Her hair, a fierce red, engulfed her shoulders as it ran down her slim body as if she did not care enough to tie it up. She didnt care what others thought about her which made them like her even more. Her eyes were striking and brown like her mother’s and surrounded her with an air dominance. No one overlooked her when she spoke, and Hermione wondered if it was because she had had to force others to listen to her, having grown up with six older brothers. Ginny had been through a lot for her age and it showed through her maturity and good humor. Hermione began to see Ginny as a younger sister a few weeks into the summer and they had been inseparable ever since.
They walked outside in the afternoons to soak up the sun and Hermione watched Ginny fly Ron’s broom around the yard, Mrs. Weasley yelling for her to come down. Mrs. Weasley was very protective of Ginny. Her youngest child, her only daughter. Hermione noticed the way Ginny’s mother was harder on Ginny to be careful and safe. Of course, she loved all of her children equally and they were her pride and joy, but she took a sort of carefulness with Ginny, as if she were fragile and the slightest spell could knock her over. This was far from the truth as all of the Weasleys knew, Ginny was tough and did not like to be treated as a child, although she most certainly was.
Hermione also spent a lot of her time with Ron that summer. He had an injury at the end of the school year which left him in the hospital for a few days and Hermione found herself worrying about him as Mrs. Weasley worried about Ginny. She considered him her family after three years of running around Hogwarts saving everyones’ lives with him and Harry. Ginny and Ron were her primary companions in the Burrow and for the first time in her life, her summer was not filled with boredom. She was an only child after all and didn't have any friends back in the muggle world. The Weasleys gave her the illusion of the big family she always wished she had. She loved her parents dearly but a house of three had a certain dullness which was overpowered by the Weasley’s house of nine. Of course, Charlie and Bill didn’t live with them because they had grown up and Percy had just graduated and was working at his new Ministry job so it was really a house of six. Seven with Hermione. Eight when Harry decided to show up.
He did at the end of July.
Ron, Ginny, Fred, and Hermione were sitting in the grass outside as George showed them an invention he was working on which would make anyone who touched it smell like earwax until they washed off in freezing cold water. Mrs. Weasley hadn’t been pleased when he began his presentation in her kitchen a few minutes ago.
“...It’s a rather foul smell, actually,” he said.
“Out!” Mrs. Weasley screamed, fed up with Fred and George’s constant “inventions” which always seemed to leave the house flooded or covered in green snot. “Out! Out! Out!” She chased them all from the table to the front food, a large broom in hand.
“As I was saying–” George cut himself off and looked past them at something in the distance and narrowed his eyes as if trying to see something more clearly.
They all swung their heads around ready to find a dementor hurling for them all but all of their expressions softened when Ginny exclaimed, “It’s Harry!”
Hermione and Ron practically leaped up from the grass to run to Harry and catch him in an embrace. She wrapped her arms tightly around him, truly happy to finally see him after over a month.
“Finally,” Ron said after they all pulled away, “We thought you’d been barred into your bedroom again. Fred was already preparing the car for your rescue.”
Harry laughed and shook his head at the absurdity of the fact that him being imprisoned in his bedroom was a possibility.
“How did you get here?’ Hermione asked.
“Dumbledore sent Hagrid to give me a lift,” he looked back at the field he came from for a moment, “He told me to apologize for not being able to stay to say hello. Dumbledore has him on some sort of mission right now.”
Hermione furrowed her brows, what kind of mission would Dumbledore need Hagrid of all people to complete? And during the summer?
The jolly group headed across the yard, Ginny telling Harry about the bubblegum the twins offered Percy last week. It was laced with something which made his entire body extremely sweaty and he yelled in their faces about how he had a meeting to attend at the Ministry.
“Oh no! Unbelievable! The Ministry!” George mocked in a false-fancy accent. He turned to Hermione. “What ever must we do?”
Her mouth threatened to turn up into a beaming smile but she forced it back. That was until she turned her head and saw Percy’s disheveled face, wet with sweat, and fuming. She couldn't hold back the eruption of laughter and neither could Fred and George. Ginny walked in at that point and saw, breaking into her own fit of laughter. Finally, Hermione caught her breath with a guilty conscience.
“Give him the antidote guys, it’s not funny,” she said, trying to keep a straight face and definitely failing.
“Oh Mione, you're no fun!”
Percy cleared his throat. “Well, at least one of you is mature. Hand it over,” he said, holding his hand out in Fred’s direction.
“We would–” started Fred, “--but we’ve yet to figure out how.”
Ginny burst into laughter again and Hermione watched as she doubled over, holding her stomach. She could barely breath and they were all just watching her, amusement on their faces.
She looked up finally and choked out, “His–face–” and then continued rolling around on the floor.
Ginny eventually caught her breath and went back to her stable composure, and Fred finally handed over the antidote. Percy made it to his meeting on time, and for that, Hermione was grateful. She didn’t want any of the Weasleys turning against her, not even Percy. Their family meant too much to her.
Harry was a good addition to the fun. Hermione felt like less of an outsider with another non-Weasley in her presence. They all ate meals together and played games into the early hours of the morning. Ginny and Hermione baked Harry a cake for his birthday which was two days after his arrival. It was a chocolate cake with Gryffindor red icing. The number 14 was poorly drawn on the top by Ginny. Hermione was horrified when she saw the way the 1 was more like a scribble and the 4 being notably larger than the 1.
“My handwriting is rather exquisite, is it not?” she jested, seeing Hermione’s terrified expression.
Hermione looked up at her and tilted her head to the side with a pointed expression. Then her lips curled into a smile and she laughed at Ginny’s humor.
“At least we know Harry won’t mind. He’ll see the chocolate and disregard anything else in his view,” she said.
They celebrated on the 31st of July, surprising Harry with the cake after dinner. Hermione watch as his eyes fill with tears when Ginny placed the cane in front of him, 14 candles ablaze, and started singing. She felt a pang in her heart wondering if Harry had ever gotten sung to for his birthday before. He stared down at his cake and no one else seemed to notice but Hermione. The singing finished and he blew out the candles in own breath, his expression one of pure glee.
Fred and George got into Arthur Weasley’s supply of alcohol and sang songs to the entire room until Mrs. Weasley told them to go to bed.
“But mum, we’re sixteen,” they said in unison.
“Bed!”
They hurried to their room and Hermione and Ginny followed shortly after. They walked to Ginny’s room in comfortable silence.
Two and a half weeks later, the group minus Mrs. Weasley set off for the Quidditch World Cup. They were joined by a boy from seventh year and his father, Amos. Cedric Diggory, the boy, struck Hermione’s eye. His skin was ghost-like but his features were so defined and absolute. He looked kind, he had that sort of look in his eyes. Hermione knew he was a Hufflepuff but silently wished the sorting hat had put him in Gryffindor. Maybe then she’d see him more often. She looked over to Ginny on her left and she seemed to be thinking the same thing.
It was Harry and Hermione’s first experience with a portkey but the Weasleys and Diggorys mindlessly put their hand on the musty old shoe at the top of the hill and beckoned the two who were raised in the muggle world to do the same. Hermione had read about portkeys on many occasions. She knew that they made a sort of pulling sensation occur within the body at the least, but she was shocked when her world twisted and re-twisted, her stomach curling in the opposite direction, as she was teleported miles. She landed with a huff and watched Cedric and the two older men seamlessly float down from the air in an elegant manner, as if their bodies had not just been squished and pulled and twisted in every direction.
They camped alongside thousands of other witches, wizards, and a few muggles. There was excitement buzzing in the air, the final match of the Quidditch World Cup to happen that night. Vendors stood around the tents with sweets and butterbeers and even newspapers. Hermione and Ginny ran from venda to vendor, asking about their products but never buying any. They met a man by the name of Alfred who had a cart of magical Quidditch playing cards for each country's team. They talked to the guy for ages about Ginny’s brother Ron who was practically in love with Viktor Krum, a famous Bulgarian Quidditch player.
“I’m starting to wonder if someone’s slipped him a sort of love potion at this point. Not one sentence comes from his mouth not containing the word Krum! There’s no one like Krum! He’s an artist! That Krum, I could talk about him for days!” she mocked. “And he has!”
The vendor liked Ginny so much that when she told him they didn’t have any money, he gave her a deck of cards with the National Bulgarian Quidditch Team on them and told her to give them to her brother. When the girls walked away, they were giggling ferociously.
“I think somebody likes you!” said Hermione. “I wonder if he doesn't know that you're thirteen or if he just doesn't care.”
Ginny made a face like she was going to throw up and said, “Ew, Mione!”
They attended the final match of the Cup, Ireland vs. Bulgaria. Ron’s hands were vibrating violently and Harry, Ginny, and Hermione took notice and made it a point to ask him if he needed a calming draught. He just rolled his eyes and continued watching the teams warm up.
“NO!!” Ron shouted as Bulgaria lost the match.
Krum had caught the snitch but he still lost by 10 points. Ron was devastated.
“Why would he catch the snitch if they were down by so much?” he asked Harry in desperation. “He had to have known they would lose!”
Hermione wondered too. The score had been 170-10, Ireland in the lead, and catching the snitch granted 150 points. Krum could have waited and caught the snitch when they had caught up more but he didn't. He ended the game knowing they would lose.
Harry seemed to know. “He wanted to end the game on his own terms because he knew they would lose anyway. It was the only dignified way for the match to end. It's what I would have done.”
The night went on and on, Irish colors decorating the sky. Everyone was celebrating even if their team lost just for the reason that they were there and they got to watch. Even Ron’s mood lightened up after a while. It was late and Mr. Weasley told everyone it was time for bed. All of the kids pleaded with Arthur to just have one more hot cocoa, none of them wanting to sleep and he agreed, being the kind hearted man he was. And after all, who could say no to Harry Potter?
Hermione and Ginny were asleep amongst the muffled noise of Irish celebration when Arthur busted into their sleeping quarters.
“Up! Up! Everyone get up!” he shouted, shaking Ginny lightly.
It was still the night and they hadn't had more than an hour of sleep so getting everyone up so urgently was not an easy task. Soon enough, all of them were outside staring up at the terrible scene. A group of hooded wizards were marching through the tents, four muggles floating and struggling above them. The wizards’ wands were faced up toward the muggles, seeming to be holding them up and twisting them around through their screams of terror.
The kids were sent to the forest to hide in the trees. Through the darkness and random flashes of green lights, it was almost impossible to stick together. Ron, Harry, and Hermione ended up at the edge of the forest, having lost Ginny, Fred, and George along the way. Standing just in front of them was a figure hidden in the trees. Hermione noticed first.
“Who’s there!” she called.
Draco Malfoy stepped from behind the trees, a chillingly calm expression on his face.
“I wouldn't be shouting if I were you, Granger. Wouldn't want them to find you,” he said with a smirk, pointing to the hooded wizards.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked.
He chuckled. “They're after muggles, aren't they?”
“Hermione’s a witch!” Harry interjected.
“She’s still a dirty mudblood. Isn't she, Potter?”
Harry was seething.
Just then, another giant green blast sounded behind them and they all turned their heads at the noise. Looking back at Malfoy, Hermione noticed that even he looked scared.
“Come on, let's go find the others,” she said, glaring at Malfoy.
They ran past him into the forest, assuming that the others had already done the same. They found refuge behind a large oak tree and sat down to catch their breath.
“Lumos,” said Hermione. A light came from her wand and lit up the surrounding area. “I doubt we’ll be able to find them in here,” she said, “We should just wait for this all to be over and meet up with Ron’s dad after.”
The boys nodded their heads in response.
“Did you see the look on Malfoy’s face?” Ron asked in Harry’s direction. “He wasn't even surprised or scared. I’ll bet his father is out there with a hood on, toying with those poor muggles.”
Hermione shuttered at the thought of Lucious Malfoy. They knew he was loyal to Voldemort, having slipped Tom Riddle’s diary which was full of dark magic into Ginny’s school supplies in second year. It made Ginny do things that still haunted her and caused nightmares. Hermione wondered if that diary was one of the reasons Ginny had matured so quickly. She had been through so much for a girl so young, and Lucious Malfoy was the cause of it all. His bright blonde hair and cold, disgusted face was visible in his son. Hermione couldn't stand either of them.
“One day Malfoy will be out there too,” said Harry.
“Don’t say that,” warned Hermione, “He’s only fourteen, we can’t just assume he’ll be a death eater because his father’s one, even if it is Malfoy.”
“Mione, he called you a dirty mudblood just five minutes ago,” protested Ron.
She sighed. He was right. Malfoy was a scumbag, and he would most likely follow in his father’s footsteps someday even though she didn't want to believe that someone her own age, who went to her school and grew up with her could have so much hate inside of him.
“Morsmordre!” a voice shouted from a few trees away. A green light struck the sky and planted a skull made of magical particles. The Dark Mark. Voldemort’s symbol. Hermione had only ever read about it in books about the First Wizarding War. It lingered in the sky, as if telling people to be frightened. It worked. The trio heard screaming from different sides of them of people seeing the mark in the sky. What did it all mean? What was the point of this attack?
Eventually, the death eaters left and all of the Weasleys and Potters and Grangers reunited, a sense of shared shock and horror infecting the air around them. Mr. Weasley looked out of breath. He worked for the Ministry so it was his duty to fight the death eaters. Fred and Georges’ eyes, usually having a mischievous spark in them, showed terror and exhaustion insead. Ginny was badly shaken up. Hermione put her arm around her and didn’t take it away until they got back to the tent to pack up their things in silence. Hermione’s face was covered in sweat and dirt and hair had frizzed up double in size but she couldn't seem to mind. She counted to seven over and over in her mind, trying not to scream from the shock of what just happened. She hoped those poor muggles were alright.