Braving the Past

Chapter 59: XOXO Weird Sisters

Hermione remained stock-still, feet rooted to the ground. Her eyes took in the demolished door, broken windows, and ravaged furniture visible through the open door. She grabbed her wand, gripping it tightly despite the caving of her heart inside her chest.

They got out. Everyone is just fine.

She coaxed one foot forward, careful of the broken shells beneath her cheap hospital slippers. Malfoy placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Wait," he said, sharp eyes taking in their surroundings. "Death eaters could still be inside."

Hermione paused to listen. The ocean breeze caused sand and shell particles to dance along the walkway. The waves crashed along the shore, ebbing and flowing with the tide. The cottage itself released eerie creaks as the wind blew through its walls unchecked.

"I'll check," she said at last. "Wait here."

He tried to protest, but she cut him off.

"Your leg is torn to shreds, Malfoy. You're not in a position to protect me should we be attacked."

"You're not exactly the embodiment of health either -"

"I'm going," she asserted in a firm voice. "Watch for any newcomers. I'll only be a moment."

Malfoy gritted his teeth, but couldn't dissuade her. She didn't wait for his assent before quietly making her way down the walkway. As she got closer, she got a clearer view of just how much damage had been done. Nothing was left untouched.

Hermione raised her wand. "Homenum revelio," she uttered as quietly as she could.

Nothing happened. No markers appeared, and the only swooping feeling was that of the wind at her back. She turned to Malfoy and gestured for him to follow with a quick movement of her head, then entered the cottage.

Glass littered the floor, crunching loudly under their soles. Hermione dared not even breathe too loud, wand held aloft defensively as she observed the vestiges of the attack.

"You don't think..." Hermione turned to Malfoy, afraid to voice her full thought.

"They're not dead." Malfoy shook his head. Despite the afternoon light breathing some life into his cheeks, his face looked more gaunt than ever. "They can't be."

"Right," she eagerly agreed, "because if they were there would be bodies. Right?"

"Right."

Hermione chewed her lip and turned her attention back to the ruins of the cottage. Blast marks singed the walls. Furniture pieces littered the floor in splinters. Further into the cottage, she caught sight of wood charred and eaten as if flames had raged inside, ash coating shelves and scorch marks licking the walls.

Would they be able to tell if anyone had survived? And if they had, how was she to know where they'd gone?

Hermione made her way up the stairs while Malfoy searched the ground level. She remembered seeing Professor McGonagall bring Tom and Harry into a room up here before they'd all split ways.

Although it had been necessary, she couldn't help but feel she had made the biggest mistake in suggesting it. It was her fault their safehouse had been discovered. She didn't know if she could handle being the reason everyone was now gone.

Hermione peeked into an open doorway. It must have been someone's bedroom once. Now, the floor was littered with all the contents it had housed: ripped clothes, shredded bedding, drawers emptied and thrown across the room. She gulped back her tears as her eyes scanned the room.