Down the Rabbit Hole, part 2
Part 2
When Hermione Apparated to the Burrow she anticipated that the only one she would find home was Molly. Hermione needed to discuss things with the Weasley matriarch that were probably better asked when no one else was around. There was something that Molly was holding over the head of Lucius Malfoy, and Hermione intended to discover what it was.
Hermione did not expect that Fred would be there, especially without George. For where one went, the other tended to follow. Instead of announcing her presence, Hermione padded silently through the hall and stopped just shy of the kitchen door. Plastering herself up against the wall, she listened as Fred spoke to his mother with a timber in his voice, harsher than she’d ever heard. She knew there was a backbone of steel underneath his goofy façade, but she never believed she’d see him use it with his own mother.
“Why? That’s all I want to know, Mum.”
Molly scrubbed vigorously at the dishes in the sink, delaying answering as long as possible. Fred sat patiently as long as he could, but his patience was wearing thin. He had been anticipating, yet dreading, this conversation since he gone to speak with Lucius about Hermione last night. He’d learned some interesting tidbits that had been kept from him for years. Fred rose from his seat at the table and cast the spell for the dishes to wash themselves. Startled, Molly screamed and jumped back.
“Now, tell me why.” Any of the usual playfulness found in Fred had vanished, replaced with a censure that led Hermione to believe that even without confronting Molly herself, she was going to get her answers.
Molly sat in the chair at the head of the table and sighed heavily. “George.”
“I’m Fred, Mother.”
“Fred,” Molly began again, “why are you asking me these questions?”
“You know why. You know exactly what you’ve been doing, and apparently you’ve been doing it for years.” Fred braced his hands on the table and stared at his mother. “The mother I know wouldn’t keep a secret like this; the mother I know wouldn’t blackmail Lucius Malfoy into keeping our beloved Hermione in a job she detests.” Fred pushed back from the table and started pacing the kitchen.
Hermione had to stifle her gasp, less they realize she was there. Lucius had warned her that Molly had something to do with her plight, but she’d never realized that Molly would stoop so low as to blackmail the Minister of Magic. However, she realized that Lucius hadn’t always been the Minister. That was when she figured - in for a penny, in for a pound - which meant that Molly couldn’t very well cease blackmailing Lucius once he became Minister, so she must have been blackmailing him from BEFORE he became Minister. If she had stopped once he had become Minister, whatever was being kept secret would have already come to light.
Yet, if Molly wanted to hurt Lucius Malfoy, then discrediting him as Minister would be a good thing. On the other hand, Hermione reasoned, keeping Lucius Malfoy as Minister with Molly having something to hold over his head would put Molly in a good position to make sure that Arthur was moved to a better position within the Ministry. Except Molly hadn’t done that. She’d used whatever trump card she was holding to have Lucius keep her in the archives.
One thought reiterated in her brain - she told Fred and George the night before that she truly felt as though Molly both hated and wanted to control her, and apparently it was true. Molly had found a way to control Hermione without Hermione ever knowing it.
Hermione perked up when she heard a chair scrap across the floor. Damn, she’d almost missed Molly’s reply. Hermione hadn’t realized that Fred had stopped talking.
“These questions and accusations of yours are completely ridiculous and unfounded,” Molly practically screeched. “Why, would I want to blackmail Lucius Malfoy? That rat bastard has weaseled his way out of practically every jam he’s ever gotten in to and I doubt anyone could blackmail him.” Molly laughed nervously and moved back towards the sink.
Fred shook his head and sighed, “I know the truth, Mum.”
Molly instantly stilled. “There’s no truth to know.”
Fred moved to the other side of the kitchen and Hermione had to scramble back a bit so he wouldn’t catch a glimpse of her. Whatever truth Fred knew, Hermione needed to know it too, and getting caught eavesdropping was not going to allow that to happen.
“You’ve been holding some tidbit of information over his head for the last 32 years, and sometimes it’s garnered you some negotiating ground, and other times he didn’t right care, did he, Mum?”
Molly wiped at the counters hard enough that Fred was sure there would be worn spots on them soon. He just wanted her to tell him the truth. He needed to hear it from her own mouth. Last night, when he’d gone to visit Lucius about Hermione, he never imagined the information he’d find out from the other man. Lucius Malfoy may be a completely self-serving bastard, but he also had a soft spot for his family and would do anything to protect them.
Lucius confided in Fred that he owed Hermione a great debt for saving his family, and for working as a go-between for himself and the Order during the second war. Lucius explained to Fred that he’d gladly approve Hermione’s transfer, any of them, except he was bound by a pledge to Molly, and thereby unable to do so. Once Molly spoke the truth, the vow would be broken and Lucius would be free of the hold she’d held on him.
After Hermione had left Fred and George’s flat that morning, Fred had filled his twin in on what their conniving mother had been up to, and the secret she had kept from the family. They had made a plan - George would go to Hermione, and Fred would go to their mum, then they would all go to Lucius’ office and settle this.
Fred decided to take a new approach, since his mum wouldn’t answer the why of it, perhaps she would answer the how of it.
Before Fred could ask another question, Molly spun from her place at the counter and stalked towards Fred. “I’ve done everything that was necessary for the safety and security of this family, and I would gladly do it all again!” She poked him in the chest, during each word, for emphasis.
Shocked at his mother’s sudden change from denial to defensive, Fred could only ask, “At what cost?”
Molly remained stoically silent and simply stared at her son. He could see in her eyes that there was a great cost, but it wasn’t to the family she so dearly loved, but to herself and those she’d cheated along the way. “That bastard deserves all the pain and suffering that can be heaped upon him after the way he’s behaved.” Her words were coldly quiet as she turned away from him.
Lucius had shown Fred the memories; he knew what had happened. The blame couldn’t rest solely with Lucius; part of it fell upon Molly as well. Her actions had put everything in to motion.
“Yes, we all know exactly how Lucius Malfoy has behaved. Death Eater extraordinaire that one.” Hermione could see that Fred was now leaning against the kitchen counter, his arms folded across his chest. “Tell me, Mother, how did you manage to weasel your way in to his good graces long enough to accomplish your task?”
Hermione was wondering the same thing, and had hoped Fred would ask that question. The Lucius she knew would not have allowed a ‘blood traitor’ near him at one time, let alone allow himself to be blackmailed by one. What could have cowed the once proud Malfoy?
“You know nothing of what you ask.”
“I. Want. The. Truth.” Fred emphasized each word. “Pure and simple, just give me the truth.”
Molly laughed then, a bitter laugh, one tinged with sadness and pain. Hermione supposed that whatever secret she held must have weighed heavily upon her all these years. Hermione had to strain her ears to hear what Molly said next.
“You were never supposed to find out!” Molly hissed.
“But I did!” Fred slammed his hands on the kitchen table. “Were you ever going to tell us?”
Molly turned and simply stared at Fred; this was never supposed to happen. Malfoy was never supposed to be able to tell anyone. No one was ever supposed to know that she was trying to keep Hermione in the archives. It was for her own good though. If Hermione would finally see Malfoy for the bastard that he was, then she would leave the Ministry and marry Ron, as she should have done years ago.
“Your silence is answer enough,” Fred concluded. “I gather that you never intended for anyone to find out, especially not George or I. What about Hermione, Mother? What delusion do you hold to that you believe keeping her in the archives will accomplish?”
“She should be a proper housewife!” Molly nearly screamed. She slammed a hand across her mouth; she hadn’t intended to say that. Fred already knew more than he was ever supposed to know.
Fred chuckled mirthlessly and said, “You honestly believe that?”
“Ron loves her, wants to marry her, and wants her to be a mother to his children. She can’t do that if she’s wasting time at the Ministry,” she spat, the words like acid upon her tongue.
Fred couldn’t help it - he laughed. He laughed so hard his ribs hurt and he had tears streaming down his face. Every time his laughter slowed, he’d look at his mother, and would burst out in great guffaws once again. He supposed that he should have been angry, he should have held on to the anger of finding out that his entire life had been a lie. Nevertheless, the delusions that his mother held broke that anger. Once he regained his bearings and stopped laughing long enough to take a few deep breaths he sat back down. He wondered how he had never noticed that his mother was slightly delusional. In the ten years since the war ended, Ron had never indicated any romantic interest in Hermione. He was too busy living up his ‘hero’ status.
“Did she tell you yet?” George asked his brother as he came in the kitchen door. Fred joined his brother, wondering why Hermione wasn’t with him.
“Not yet.” They both leaned back against the counter in unison, crossing their arms across their chest to stare together at their mother. “Did you find Hermione?” Fred asked.
“She’d already left the Ministry.”
“We’ll find her when this is done.”
“She realizes that we know, right?” George indicated toward his mother with his chin.
That was when she knew that they knew. Molly stared at her boys; her precious twins were the light of the Weasley clan, so full of fun and mischief. She slumped in a chair, sighing in defeat. “Nearly 33 years ago I decided that I would help the Order any way I could, and getting close to Malfoy was easy enough. I simply played on his inability to stay faithful to his wife. The man never could keep it in his trousers.”
Fred and George glanced at each other and then back at Molly. “Does Dad know?”
“Dear Arthur has no idea. He’s completely clueless. Had he known, he would have tried to stop me.”
“Which part, Mum? The sleeping with Malfoy, or the blackmailing him in to doing whatever tickled your fancy at the time?” It was George who spoke this time, each word laced with anger.
Hermione shoved her fist in her mouth to keep from screaming. It took everything in her not to burst around the corner and demand to know just what in the hell they were talking about. All of the Weasleys looked like, well, Weasleys. There wasn’t a grey eye or blond head in the house. There was still a piece of the puzzle missing though. Lucius wouldn’t care if Narcissa or anyone else knew that years ago, (who knows how many) that he’d screwed around. So what else could it be that Molly held over him to keep him in check?
Fred’s tone softened a bit. “You need to let it go, Mum. You need to let Hermione have the life she wants, not the life you think she should have.”
“I will never ‘let it go’. He has to pay.” Molly nearly spat the words.
“You willingly slept with him. What did you think would happen?”
“I wasn’t supposed to get pregnant! The two of you should be Weasleys, not Malfoys! Your only saving grace is that you both so resemble your uncles Gideon and Fabian.” The boys had never before known such venom to come from their mother.
“Don’t you mean ‘your’ saving grace, Mother?” George ground out.
Out in the hall, Hermione was in complete shock at that final admission by Molly. She made a mental checklist of everything she’d heard, everything that her brain was still trying to process. First, Lucius Malfoy was Fred and George’s father. Second, Molly had blackmailed him in to doing whatever she wanted for years, which included keeping Hermione in a shite hole of a job.
Hermione stumbled down the hallway and out the backdoor. She couldn’t believe that Molly actually believed that she would quit her job at the Ministry to tend house and marry Ron. Ron was one of her best friends, but she didn’t love him romantically anymore than he loved her that way. Ron wanted to marry Lavender for gods only knew what reason.
She knew too that Lucius could be a right bastard. However, the people believed in him enough to elect him as Minister. Hermione had seen that he wasn’t the same man he was ten years ago. He understood the folly of following a madman, knew that blood was just blood and didn’t determine magical ability. Understanding Lucius Malfoy was like trying to understand the abyss; there were so many hidden depths, that a person would never be able to map them all.
Making her way to the Apparition point, Hermione started to hyperventilate. The shock was catching up to her, she felt lightheaded and a bit woozy. She stumbled left and nearly hit a tree, tripped over a root, caught her other foot in a hole near the base, twisted and started falling. Never hitting the ground, she continued falling farther and farther, watching as the tree above her disappeared. As she fell, she mused morosely that perhaps the ground had finally decided to swallow her up.
It was the strangest sensation Hermione had ever felt. It was as though the air around her couldn’t decide if it wanted to expel her downward or if it wanted to hold her suspended in mid-air. She would go from falling quickly to nearly stopping. The rollercoaster feelings were starting to wreak havoc on her already throbbing head.
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Back in the Burrow’s kitchen….
Fred and George stared at each other, having one of their famous wordless conversations, a feat they mastered when they were toddlers. So much could be said in a glance.
We need to find Hermione. Fred’s eyes said.
We need to take Mum to Lucius. George’s eyes replied.
We’re not Weasleys. The last they concurred together with sad acceptance. The Weasleys would always be their family, no matter the blood that ran through their veins.
“I doubt she’s going to go anywhere, Fred.” George gestured towards his mum. “Don’t like that Hermione wasn’t at the Ministry, she wasn’t at her home, she wasn’t at our flat. I didn’t go so far as to ask Malfoy if she’d been to see him. But, by the state of her office, I gathered that she’d gotten another denial. We need to find her.” The urgency in George’s tone told Fred much about the way his brother felt for the curly haired brunette.
Fred put a hand on his brother’s arm. “We’ll find her.” George wasn’t the only one that cared deeply for Hermione. Fred was just as smitten with the little vixen as his brother was.
Fred’s mind was whirling. If Hermione’s office looked as though it had been ransacked, and she’d gotten a denial of transfer again, then he’d just about guaranteed that she went to see Malfoy. It was always her first stop. “Let’s go.”
Neither would have guessed just where or how they would find her.