Witch Hunt

2

Skipping down the steps to the kitchen bright and early, Hermione realised she was not alone.

Ginny and her mother were standing by the open window, poring over a letter taken from Pigwidgeon's leg as she gulped down burnt pieces of bacon.

Walking over to them, she only managed to peek over her friend's shoulder, when Mrs Weasley tore the letter from her sight. "What do you think you're doing, young lady?" She shrieked, surprised by the witch's sudden appearance.

The brightest witch of her age frowned. "I just wanted to see. Is that letter for me? You've been letting Ginny read them?" She asked accusingly, her voice nearly as shrill as the house's matron's. "And did that say Hogwarts? The man I'm supposed to marry is at Hogwarts? Good gods, he isn't a student is he?"

Ginny was beet red at having been caught reading an intimate letter addressed to her closest friend.

There was nothing sordid about it, but the content was still private. The words of keen interest from a man about to be married. Married to a young witch he barely knew.

And Hermione, she had never read an entire letter from him. Mrs Weasley had made certain of it. And yet, Ginny had been allowed to. She knew everything about the man Hermione was blindly marrying.

The older of the girls felt her stomach twist angrily as her heart sank. She'd been betrayed by one of her very best friends.

"...Ginny, how could you do this to me? Are you so entitled as to believe that your marriage to Harry Potter, the boy who lived, grants you every allowance? No matter how private a matter. Your mother claiming it was better for me is one thing. Reading my private correspondence and making a fool of me is unacceptable."

There was nothing she hated more than seeming a fool. But in the end, it's what she was, wasn't it?

A fool in love with the words across a few bits of paper. In love with the idea of a man she knew nothing of. With his prose and elegance and his fascination with every topic she brought up with him.

And Ginny had no doubt been talking to everyone about it. Only able to shut her gob when she had something in it.

At a loss for what to say, the redheaded girl simply stared, her jaw dropped. Hermione had half a mind to slap it shut.

Instead, she reached over her to snatch the letter from her mother. "Might as well let me read it now." She said snarkily, turning her back to them.

'Sweet girl,

It has come to my attention that you may not yet know my identity. Dare I suspect interference from the meddlesome Weasley matriarch? She was always one for dramatics. I come to this conclusion for a few reasons. The first and foremost being that you only answer questions at the beginning of my letters, and never anything concerning academia post-Hogwarts. I suppose you might have the chance to read more if I did not leave my name, in which case some ambiguity may remain. Unfortunately, I do not think you would be so keen as to write such careful words had you known who I am... I was not the kindest man toward you in your youth. I was indifferent and occasionally cruel. A regrettable trait of myself, I confess. I should like to collect you three days early from the Burrow so we might learn to suffer each other before marrying.
Yours,
S.S.'

S.S.? Who the bloody hell was S.S.?

The carefully worded phrases, the attentive spiked cursive... It was all so familiar.

She turned to face the Weasleys to ask when she noticed something particular about the parchment in her hands. The way the light shone through the page from the open window...

There was a watermark, embedded in the letter! She traced a finger over it once, twice, as the initials rolled over and over in the head.

And all at once she was appalled, yet oddly impressed with the man's cleverness in thinking of writing upon watermarked parchment.

Had she not been in such a state of shock, she would have been flattered by the efforts he had made to get the letter to her.

She felt rather faint, her hands coming up to her eyes and squeezing them shut to keep the room from spinning. Her breathing was rapid and shallow, the note still tightly clutched in her fist.

She couldn't believe this! And Mrs Weasley had hid it from her all this time? She had written to the man multiple times a day for a month and the woman never thought to tell her. Never thought it might be important to know that she was writing to the most dreaded man she ever met?

That she was going to marry and spend the rest of her life with the man who made fun of her buckteeth when Malfoy hexed her, called her names for 7 years, that she stole from and lit on fire? The man who had only ever loved one woman in his life. The man who had died in her best friend's arms after they had tried to save him.

"Merlin's arse, Molly. I'm getting married in two weeks and you didn't think to mention it? That I might like to know before the nastiest surprise of my life?"

Mrs Weasley couldn't respond anything more than a squeak. She was as red as her daughter, who was now turning a sickly shade of puce.

The boys ran down at the sound of commotion, only to find their friend with her arms up in the air, the letter still crumpled in her palm. Her hair frazzled with wild magic coursing through her, sitting on her skin like a live wire, a hex on the tip of her tongue.

Harry ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "So you know, do you?"

The witch spun about and stared at him, daggers in her eyes. Her words coated in the thickest of venoms when she spoke again. Her voice quieter now. "Did everyone know but me?"

Ron, ever the fool, simply shrugged. "Mum thought you'd run if you knew. I think you should."

Her fist collided with his nose before the words were all out of his mouth. Roaring in pain, the youngest of the Weasley boys crumpled to the ground, holding his face.

Mrs Weasley was shrieking again, Ginny simply staring as the scene unfolded.

Harry couldn't help but laugh as the blood gushed from Ron's nose.

The red haze faded from her sight and she shook her hand, squeezing her fist a few times. She didn't regret it, though she knew he'd be sore about it for a while to come. She hadn't hit anyone that hard for insulting her since she had slugged Malfoy in third year.

"Damnit, Harry. It's not funny!" She exclaimed, exasperated by the morning's events.

Harry nodded. "It is a little. He'll be feeling that all week."

She ran her hands through her hair, grabbing her head. She needed to calm down. She needed to plan on how to get out of this.

No way in hell was she marrying Severus Snape.