Hero of the Story || James Potter x Hermione Granger Fanfiction

41 | in the middle of it all, it's nobody's fault

xxxxi.

in the middle of it all, it's nobody's fault

(Uncharted by Sara Bareilles)

__________

July 1, 1979

Breakfast the next day was a silent affair in the Pettigrew household. With Peter still away sorting out the whole fiasco back at Hogsmeade, Hermione found her mother tensely preparing breakfast for the both of them. Anya had fiercely hugged Hermione when she'd come inside, obviously afraid of what had transpired yesterday and relieved at the same time that her daughter was well.

"I'm fine, Mum," she reassured, patting her rich, golden brown curls with a small smile. "How about you?" She lightly pulled away to gaze at her mother, blue eyes roaming around in search of injuries Madame Pomfrey may have missed yesterday.

"I'm fine, sweetheart," Anya echoed. Hermione noted there were forming tears in her mother's eyes as the older witch tucked a curl behind her ear. "What an awful way to graduate," she said, directing Hermione onto one of the chairs to sit her down. "My heart goes out to that poor, poor family."

Her smile fell as she glanced at the new edition of the Daily Prophet. Splattered on the front page was the image of the Dark Mark hovering ominously over Hogsmeade. Explosions from nearby shops and raining debris decorated the quaint little town. It was disconcerting to see because Hogsmeade was just outside of Hogwarts' grounds, a supposed safe place for everybody. Hermione still hadn't read the whole article, but she was able to recognise the dismay, distrust, and disappointment of terrified parents, demanding how in Merlin's name the Death Eaters were able to infiltrate Hogsmeade. There was a small picture of Dumbledore beside the photograph, solemnly blinking at the camera, his lips drawn taut with graveness.

Blessedly, the Daily Prophet didn't show the death of Elias Somerhalder, the Gryffindor seventh year who was the sole person who'd died during the Hogsmeade attack. The memory of his mother's anguished cries echoed in Hermione's ears and she was unable to suppress a horrified shiver.

Her eyes watered as she glanced at the Dark Mark once more, seemingly mocking her at the nearing height of the First Wizarding War. "No one was supposed to die," she whispered, her fingers brushing against the Dark Mark, before curling her hands into a tight fist. "No one will die anymore."

Anya reached forward to draw soothing circles on her knuckles until Hermione uncurled her fist. "Thanks, Mum," she murmured, drawing as much comfort as she could from the woman who did nothing but love her.

"None of this right now," Anya decided, grasping onto the newspaper and hiding it from sight. "We must eat breakfast!"

Hermione lightly smiled and stood up from the stool she was sitting on, only to jog to the other side so she could sit down beside Anya.

"Peter still didn't say if he's coming home tonight?" Anya asked, already placing scrambled eggs, strips of bacon and bread on Hermione's plate.

She sadly shook her head. "I haven't heard from him since he left for his Auror duties yesterday," she replied. When Anya frowned with worry, Hermione patted her hand reassuringly. "I'm sure he'll be fine, Mum. Peter always comes home."

Anya sighed. "Of course, love," she said.

-ooo-

Later that night, as Hermione bid her mother goodnight, she sat on her desk while staring at a constructed letter for Regulus. She'd already sent him a letter last night, asking if he was all right, but the Black heir hadn't sent a reply. She remembered his terrified eyes, and Hermione didn't doubt he'd known of the Hogsmeade attack prior to the attack itself.