Latrunculus--Part 14

Hermione gave up on her hair as a lost cause and left the bathroom. She searched her bedroom for her shoes. They were not in their usual place in the bottom of the wardrobe. She found one under her bed but its mate was nowhere in sight.

She carried her lone shoe with her as she made her way into the lounge. The clock suddenly chimed as if to remind her she would soon be late. With a frustrated sigh, she checked under a table and then the couch.

“Where is it?” she muttered

She suddenly heard a thump in the next room. Crookshanks was happily batting around her shoe. He yowled in protest as she retrieved it.

“You have toys, Crooks,” she reminded the cat. She quickly put on her shoes. She was about to grab her purse when there was a knock on the door. “What now?”

She opened the door. For a moment, she was speechless. “Ron?”

“Good morning, Hermione.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to escort you.”

She suddenly noticed Mrs. Callahan down the hall. The elderly woman was watching the scene with avid interest. Hermione grabbed Ron’s arm and pulled him inside. She quickly shut the door.

“I can’t believe you, Ron!” she hissed as she turned toward her unwanted guest. “I don’t need any protection. Malfoy’s going to be surrounded by guards from Azkaban. It’s not like he’s going to be able to attack me. Besides I can take care of myself.”

That may have been true before, Ron thought, but a magic-less Hermione would be not match for a wizard. “Orders from Shacklebolt.”

“Of course,” Hermione muttered. She grabbed her purse and stepped back toward the door. “Well, let’s go.”

“I thought we’d go by Floo powder.”

“Absolutely not!”

He was a bit taken aback by her vehemence. “Why not?”

“I will not have Mrs. Callahan thinking that you’ve been here all that time.”

“Oh, come on, Hermione. You can’t really care that much about what that old biddy thinks.”

“That old biddy is my neighbor, Ron. I live here now and I do care what my neighbors think of me.” She shouldered her purse. “Let’s go.”

He followed her out of her flat. He waited as she locked the door, absently thinking how fascinated his father would be by the simple act. Down the hall, Mrs. Callahan was lingering by her door. She smiled at Hermione and Ron as they made their way to the stairs.

Ron could feel the neighbor’s eyes on him as he followed Hermione down the stairs. “Nosey old bird, isn’t she?”

“You have no idea,” Hermione said. “Soon the whole building will know about you.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

She ignored the question as she led him out of the building and unto the busy street. Ron quickly matched her brisk pace. During their Hogwarts day, the sights of Muggle London would have left him gawking. But not any more. Due to his Auror training, he could now pass well as a Muggle if need be.

Yet, he always hated the need. He returned from the Muggle world as soon as his missions allowed. He felt exposed, weakened away from magic.

He risked a glance at Hermione. She looked to have adjusted well to her return to a Muggle life. But then she rarely let anyone know when something was wrong.

“What?”

“Huh?” he asked, pulled from his thoughts.

“Why are you staring at me like that?”

“Nothing,” he said quickly. “Just thinking.”

She gave him a look but said nothing. They finished the rest of the way to the Ministry of Magic in silence. Ron hated having to take her through the visitors’ entrance but he had no choice. If she was offended by the badge that announced her as a visitor, she gave no sign.

A few people stopped and spoke to them. Most wished Hermione well as she recovered from Malfoy’s curse, still unaware of the true nature of the magic used against her. Hermione politely thanked each one. She gave no sign that her retreat to the Muggle world would be permanent.

Soon they were outside the doors of the Wizengamot. Ron followed Hermione into the courtroom. Several people were already present, he noted. He spotted Seamus and a few other Aurors among the crowd of reporters, various Ministry employees and victims.

Shacklebolt wasn’t taking any chances. The sentencing of Draco Malfoy for crimes against a Muggle-born and her family could serve as a rallying point for the remaining Death Eaters. The Aurors would be out in force for the next several days in case that happened.

Ron wasn’t going to take any chances, either. He had no intention of letting Hermione out of his sight for the next several days. She just didn’t know it yet.

The murmurs of the crowd quieted as the members of the Wizengamot entered the chamber and took their places. They were an imposing sea of plum-colored robes. Each was stone-faced as they waited for the prisoner to arrive.

As if on cue, the guards from Azkaban arrived with their prisoner. A hush quickly fell over the crowd. The only sound in the chamber was the sound of chains.

Draco Malfoy held his head high. He viewed the assembled Wizengamot with open disdain. His gaze swept over the rest of the room, lingering on Hermione. He smirked when Ron shifted to sit closer to her.

“Draco Abraxas Malfoy,” the head of the Wizengamot called. Draco took his time to face the judges. “You are brought here to learn the sentence imposed by we, the Wizengamot, for your crimes. You will spend the rest of your natural life as a prisoner at Azkaban. Given the cruel and vicious nature of your crimes, you will be subjected to the Dementor’s kiss as well.”

Several gasps arose from the crowd. Draco went white but said nothing. A flash made Ron reach for his wand until he realized it was from the camera of the reporter from the Prophet.

“Your sentence will be carried out in a week’s time.” The head judge made a note on a sheet of paper. “You are dismissed. Guards, you may bring forth the next prisoner.”

“So that’s it,” Hermione murmured as Draco was led away. “It’s finally over.”

“Yeah,” Ron replied, hoping she was right.

“Let’s go.”

“Okay.”

They slipped out as the next prisoner was brought before the judges.


Part XIV Hermione gave up on her hair as a lost cause and left the bathroom. She searched her bedroom for her shoes. They were not in their usual place in the bottom of the wardrobe. She found one under her bed but its mate was nowhere in sight. She carried her lone shoe with her as she made her way into the lounge. The clock suddenly chimed as if to remind her she would soon be late. With a frustrated sigh, she checked under a table and then the couch. “Where is it?” she muttered She suddenly heard a thump in the next room. Crookshanks was happily batting around her shoe. He yowled in protest as she retrieved it. “You have toys, Crooks,” she reminded the cat. She quickly put on her shoes. She was about to grab her purse when there was a knock on the door. “What now?” She opened the door. For a moment, she was speechless. “Ron?” “Good morning, Hermione.” “What are you doing here?” “I’m here to escort you.” She suddenly noticed Mrs. Callahan down the hall. The elderly woman was watching the scene with avid interest. Hermione grabbed Ron’s arm and pulled him inside. She quickly shut the door. “I can’t believe you, Ron!” she hissed as she turned toward her unwanted guest. “I don’t need any protection. Malfoy’s going to be surrounded by guards from Azkaban. It’s not like he’s going to be able to attack me. Besides I can take care of myself.” That may have been true before, Ron thought, but a magic-less Hermione would be not match for a wizard. “Orders from Shacklebolt.” “Of course,” Hermione muttered. She grabbed her purse and stepped back toward the door. “Well, let’s go.” “I thought we’d go by Floo powder.” “Absolutely not!” He was a bit taken aback by her vehemence. “Why not?” “I will not have Mrs. Callahan thinking that you’ve been here all that time.” “Oh, come on, Hermione. You can’t really care that much about what that old biddy thinks.” “That old biddy is my neighbor, Ron. I live here now and I do care what my neighbors think of me.” She shouldered her purse. “Let’s go.” He followed her out of her flat. He waited as she locked the door, absently thinking how fascinated his father would be by the simple act. Down the hall, Mrs. Callahan was lingering by her door. She smiled at Hermione and Ron as they made their way to the stairs. Ron could feel the neighbor’s eyes on him as he followed Hermione down the stairs. “Nosey old bird, isn’t she?” “You have no idea,” Hermione said. “Soon the whole building will know about you.” “Is that a bad thing?” She ignored the question as she led him out of the building and unto the busy street. Ron quickly matched her brisk pace. During their Hogwarts day, the sights of Muggle London would have left him gawking. But not any more. Due to his Auror training, he could now pass well as a Muggle if need be. Yet, he always hated the need. He returned from the Muggle world as soon as his missions allowed. He felt exposed, weakened away from magic. He risked a glance at Hermione. She looked to have adjusted well to her return to a Muggle life. But then she rarely let anyone know when something was wrong. “What?” “Huh?” he asked, pulled from his thoughts. “Why are you staring at me like that?” “Nothing,” he said quickly. “Just thinking.” She gave him a look but said nothing. They finished the rest of the way to the Ministry of Magic in silence. Ron hated having to take her through the visitors’ entrance but he had no choice. If she was offended by the badge that announced her as a visitor, she gave no sign. A few people stopped and spoke to them. Most wished Hermione well as she recovered from Malfoy’s curse, still unaware of the true nature of the magic used against her. Hermione politely thanked each one. She gave no sign that her retreat to the Muggle world would be permanent. Soon they were outside the doors of the Wizengamot. Ron followed Hermione into the courtroom. Several people were already present, he noted. He spotted Seamus and a few other Aurors among the crowd of reporters, various Ministry employees and victims. Shacklebolt wasn’t taking any chances. The sentencing of Draco Malfoy for crimes against a Muggle-born and her family could serve as a rallying point for the remaining Death Eaters. The Aurors would be out in force for the next several days in case that happened. Ron wasn’t going to take any chances, either. He had no intention of letting Hermione out of his sight for the next several days. She just didn’t know it yet. The murmurs of the crowd quieted as the members of the Wizengamot entered the chamber and took their places. They were an imposing sea of plum-colored robes. Each was stone-faced as they waited for the prisoner to arrive. As if on cue, the guards from Azkaban arrived with their prisoner. A hush quickly fell over the crowd. The only sound in the chamber was the sound of chains. Draco Malfoy held his head high. He viewed the assembled Wizengamot with open disdain. His gaze swept over the rest of the room, lingering on Hermione. He smirked when Ron shifted to sit closer to her. “Draco Abraxas Malfoy,” the head of the Wizengamot called. Draco took his time to face the judges. “You are brought here to learn the sentence imposed by we, the Wizengamot, for your crimes. You will spend the rest of your natural life as a prisoner at Azkaban. Given the cruel and vicious nature of your crimes, you will be subjected to the Dementor’s kiss as well.” Several gasps arose from the crowd. Draco went white but said nothing. A flash made Ron reach for his wand until he realized it was from the camera of the reporter from the Prophet. “Your sentence will be carried out in a week’s time.” The head judge made a note on a sheet of paper. “You are dismissed. Guards, you may bring forth the next prisoner.” “So that’s it,” Hermione murmured as Draco was led away. “It’s finally over.” “Yeah,” Ron replied, hoping she was right. “Let’s go.” “Okay.” They slipped out as the next prisoner was brought before the judges.


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