Broken Bits

48. Plans

With love. 

Hermione knew, deep down, she ought to feel ashamed. It wasn't right. She was breaking a promise, clear as day. Something she promised herself long ago she would never do again. But by god, she just couldn't help herself.

It had been torture, watching Fred help coral everyone to their designated places of transportation. They were hoping to get to Buckingham Palace first, to hide and then take Rockwood and his army by surprise.

It was a brilliant plan, really. Hermione was a little put out she couldn't help plan it, though she supposed her reports did come in handy. In some ways at least. It was also, the main reason they were all so nervous. They had no idea what sort of creatures and half-breeds Rockwood had managed to convince to help him. They didn't have any giants, or even half-giants on their side.

There were also several packs of werewolves missing.

As well as several herds of Centaurs that never showed up.

When they had all left, marching away into the sunrise, clad in the most ridiculous of protective gear. Hermione had decided right then and there what she was going to do. No one would like it, and truly, no one would let her.

Hermione stepped into the house, the last one to watch the last of them fade over the hillside. She knew most of the woman were in the living room, cradling babies and whispering to one another as they waited.

But Molly. Molly was standing in the kitchen, hands shaking as she prepared potions. Healing salves. Burn cream. Rapid stitches. Cooling bandages. A knife, meant for severing hexed limbs. Hermione severely hoped the knife was to never be used. 

"Go play with Teddy." Hermione urged Sulien, setting him down so he could race away. Reliving Ginny of her entertaining duties.

"Please don't ask me." Molly whispered as Hermione neared, hands tightening on the lip of the sink.

"I wasn't going to." Hermione admitted, pulling her wand from her holster on her thigh. She conjured her bag, and began unloading it on the kitchen table.

"It doesn't get easier you know." Molly stated, still not yet turning around. "Sending your boys into battle, staying home, waiting to see who makes it back in how many pieces." Molly turned then, regarding Hermione with a look of panic.

Hermione ignored her, slipping on a jacket and trading her sneakers out for combat boots. Slipping a knife into each of them.

"I know why your going, I do." Molly sighed, wringing her hands together. "But please think of Fred." She was begging her, begging her to stay. She wasn't sure she could handle another son's heartbreak. There had been to many the past couple years, they ought to last her a lifetime. 

"That's why I'm going." Hermione stopped, hands trembling as she stood up straight. "I'm doing this for him." Hermione stated, rather surprised her voice didn't shake. 

"He doesn't want this!" Molly argued, yelling in a hushed tone. It would do neither of them any good if Ginny came marching in with her own opinions on the matter. 

"I want him to be happy." Hermione bit her tongue, refusing to allow herself to raise her voice. "He's..he's put everything on the line for me, he's waited so long and I just want him to finally be happy." Hermione didn't realize she was crying, until she felt a hot tear slid down her cheek.

"You make him happy." Molly rushed forward, clasping Hermione's biceps in her hands. "But how can you do that, if you are dead?" Molly asked, tilting her head slightly as she studied Hermione's face.