The Half-Blood Princess

Untitled Part 37

In the end of April, Harley was called by Bill to Shell House. When she arrived, she saw Harry and Luna outside the home...and they were digging a grave.

"Harry? What happened?" she called, her black robes dragging in the wet sand.

"Dobby died," Luna said, her face solemn. "Bellatrix killed him after he helped us escape from Malfoy Manor."

Harley looked at Harry's side and saw the cursed blade she had sold to the witch. Poor little Dobby. She'd had quite a bit of interaction with him when Hermione was advocating for S.P.E.W. during Harley's sixth year.

"I am sorry, Harry," she said quietly. "What happened, exactly? How did you wind up at Malfoy Manor?"

Harry began to explain what had happened, about the Deathly Hallows, that Luna had been taken, that they had also been holding Griphook the goblin and Ollivander in the manor. The three of them had been caught by Snatchers, but Draco had failed to identify Harry through the hex Hermione had put on him in lieu of a disguise.

Harley felt a swell of appreciation for Draco, though she was miffed he wasn't at his position at The Potion Master. "Why did Bill owl me? He said to bring healing potions and calming potions. He also asked me to bring a black lace dress."

"Ollivander and Hermione are hurt. We all could use the calming potion," Ron said, coming from inside the house. He looked haggard. "Poor Hermione..."

Harley handed calming potions to Ron and Harry. Luna refused one, saying something about being too calm makes Wrackspurts come in droves. Harley was wise enough not to ask any more. Inside the small but pretty house, she greeted Bill and Fleur, who told her which bedroom contained which patient.

Hermione looked like she had been through the wringer. Harley knew what Bellatrix was capable of. She'd tortured people alongside her, things Harley knew she'd never forget doing. Bellatrix was insane, and it had taken all her her willpower not to kill her when they had to work together.

"Harley," Hermione greeted, her face blank.

"Do not feel you need to speak," Harley said. "But I will listen if you need an ear that is not going to turn around and look at you as though you are damaged. Ron and Harry are good people, but they can be condescending towards you. I know."

Hermione was silent.

"But remember that being brave is more than just facing danger: it is surviving these horrors. Bellatrix Lestrange is mad, she delights in pain and has absolutely no sense of remorse. Many people leave her presence irreparably broken. But not you. That's a thing to be proud of."

Harley sat on the bed, and went to take Hermione's hand, when the girl jerked it back. "What is it? What happened?"

It was at that moment Hermione broke down in tears. Harley had never been very good with "tea and sympathy", but something akin to her mother's manner seemed to come upon her as she tried her best to calm Hermione down. It took a few moments, but she did stop crying and shakily held her arm for Harley to see.

Carved into the flesh of her forearm was "Mudblood". Harley had a brief mental image of gouging Bellatrix's eyes out with that blade as she surveyed the wound.

"I am sorry to tell you, but that will never go away," Harley said.

"That's what I thought," Hermione replied.

Harley poured her potions over Hermione's wound, to be sure that they would not become infected, and healed some of her other superficial wounds. Lastly, she gave Hermione a potion to get her to sleep.