Broken Bits

42. Circle of Khanna

Hermione studied Harry and Charlie's faces as they stared at a blank spot on the wall of Arthur's shed. They looked completely dumbfounded, dressed in black suits just staring at a wall. Hermione herself was dressed in a simple sweater and a pair of worn jeans. 

Harry promised that there had been a piece of parchment on the piece of blank wall. 

But, because Hermione hadn't been involved in the tearing apart of all her reports she hadn't a clue what portion was missing. What portion had just simply vanished. 

Charlie took a step forward, pulled his wand from his sleeve and waved it against the wall. Muttering a spell that Hermione didn't recognize. The papers nearby fluttered, as if a breeze had ripped through the room. Then suddenly, a glimmering 'x' appeared on the wall before slowly fading away. 

"Just like that one." Harry turned, to the opposing wall, to point at one parchment stuck up by itself. 

The one about the misconduct and mistreatment taking place at the St. Mungo's spell damage treatment center. 

The treatment center that as far as Hermione knew, no longer existed. 

"You didn't keep a list of all the report names?" Hermione asked slowly, eyeing Harry as he spun to face her. 

"No." Harry squeaked, the realization hitting him square in the chest that truly that would have been a rather smart thing to do. 

"This is the last time,' Hermione stepped forward, poking Harry's chest with her forefinger. 'That you are allowed to do something without me." Hermione snapped, spinning to look at the blank space on the wall once more. 

"They are your reports, surely you'll realize if one is missing?" Harry asked, slightly dumbfounded that Hermione had just yelled at him. It had been a long time since she had lost her temper with him, it was a rather nice change of pace but sorely misplaced. 

"You've torn my reports apart Harry." Hermione sighed, reaching up to rub the bridge of her nose. "I..I'll start with what I remember, hopefully I can narrow it down before the lot of you get back." Hermione waved her hand at the two men in front of her dressed in their black suits.

Her funeral was today. 

Hermione watched as the Weasley's filed out the front door, headed for the Ford Angela. Arthur and Bill had spelled it to fit the whole lot of them, as Harry deemed it rather brilliant if they had a getaway car just in case something went haywire while they were out. 

Hermione made a point that nothing should go haywire, and if it did they'd better tell her right away. 

They were all dressed rather smart, better than any of them had been for her wedding, and Hermione couldn't help the pain that thudded in her chest. It was a rare thing, watching people leave to attend your own funeral. 

"I'm going to hate this." Fred stated simply, stopping beside Hermione to wrap a hand around her waist. "Wish you could come with, even just to hold my hand." He said softly, leaning over to press his lips to the crown of her head. 

"Kind of defeats the purpose of a staged funeral doesn't it?" Hermione asked, turning in his arms to hug him. "If I attend that is." She snorted, in slight amusement and slight dread. 

"I'll hold your hand brother." Charlie stepped up beside them, clapping Fred's shoulder tightly. 

"He likes when you rub circles on his palm." Hermione smiled, pulling away to hug Charlie who squeezed her a bit tighter than truly warranted. But perhaps he needed the hug more than she did.