Authors Notes: Set post-events of Half-Blood Prince and probably AU (Alternative Universe) given some (very minor) assumptions I'm making. Otherwise, I do try to stick with canon / accepted 'facts' as much as possible and don't get too weird (e.g. James Potter is Severus' and Lily's love child from a time-altering potion gone wrong).

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Chapter 1: So it begins…

A still, eerie quiet sat over Diagon Alley. It was quarter after eight in the evening and the sun had just begun to set, casting long, dark shadows over the infrequently traveled streets. The few brave patrons who visited Diagon Alley did so in packed, vigilant groups. The tightly huddled masses walked in a somber, yet fast-paced lock step as each member warily scanned the streets for the slightest hint of danger. It was the end of the day and a sizable number of shops remained open; most had their interior lights dimmed as to not draw attention. A few shops were closed, some for holiday, others simply closed early for the evening and perhaps a few - such as the boarded-up Florean's and the abandoned Ollivander's - were for good. Trash littered the street and abandoned sheets from the Daily Prophet flittered in the breeze as the wizarding world was far too occupied to deal with the mundane – or simply too terrified to venture outdoors long enough to tidy up.

In one of the darkest shadows, right inside Knockturn Alley, two wizards materialized – the sharp noise betrayed their otherwise stealth disapparation. The first, apparently a witch, bore a deep royal blue, hooded robe with small, intricate silver runes embroidered on the sleeve, a silver amulet around her neck and a thin, silver tie-rope around her petite waist. The second, about a half-head taller than the first, wore a dull, deep midnight blue hooded robe and a simple bronze amulet. He bore a black leather braided rope that featured about a dozen small glittering gems that were weaved into the rope in such a way that it was apparent that they were to be removed and simply not for decoration.

The two took in their surroundings, quickly ascertaining were they were at and who, or what, was nearby. The witch quickly put her left hand over her waist, where she apparently had something concealed in the folds of her garment.

"Should something happen…" she began.

"There is no one coming…" the other interrupted, his voice was young, but deep. "If we hurry…"

"No," said the witch, holding up her arm to stop the other from proceeding into the street. "The moon is rising," she said as she nodded to the glowing full orb that just starting to peek over the Quality Quidditch Supplies to the northeast. "The shadow cast from Gringotts will give us a clear passage. Besides, the Head Goblin insists on punctuality – not a moment to early or late – and literally a moment. We are early." She said the last with a sigh.

"We should have worn street clothes. We can transfigure…" the second whispered, looking around nervously.

"If we are noticed, then all the better. However, we need to make it seem that we don't wish to be seen," the witch corrected with a whisper. "We will wait."

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"Gabrielle, if you looked any prettier, you would outshine your sister," Molly Weasley said to the young witch and patted her affectionately on the head. "Are you finished Madame Malkin?" she asked the proprietor who was putting the last of several pins into the girl's dress robes as part of a final fitting. "It is getting dark, and, well… we do apologize for keeping you."

"I live above the store, so it is not an inconvenience at all," Madame Malkin replied with a smile. "So nice to see something… positive… hopeful and happy…" she said the last with a longing sigh. Dismissing the young girl to the dressing rooms, she added, "Now do mind the pins – and for goodness sake don't pick up that kneazel while wearing your dress." She turned back to Molly. "I do try to put non-sticking charms on all, but lately – well – my mind has been preoccupied with current events." The witch tried to manage a smile as the girl scampered off, her pace youthful and alive with a bountiful grace.

"Fleur, are you done yet?" Ginny Weasley called into the back room. "If you take any longer, you'll have to get married here…" She stopped abruptly as she heard a crack of someone disapparating by her side. It was Fleur, who was finally finished parading around in her wedding gown and back in her street clothes.

"Are you 'appy?" Fleur inquired, raising an eyebrow towards Ginny. The two then began to laugh. Their relationship, which had started out as strained, improved greatly over the last month. There was little to be happy or cheerful about and it certainly did not make any sense to create any new, or further any past frivolous, animosity.

"Now there are a few other minor items we need to discuss. Save you another trip, although I certainly would not mind the company…" Madame Malkin motioned for both Molly and Fleur to sit with her at a table. Soon Gabrielle was out of the dressing room, her dress hung neatly on a nearby hook and she sat on the floor with Ginny playing with her young kneazel, Tomas. A few months back, Bill and Fleur had given Tomas to her for her birthday and the girl simply refused to go anywhere without the kit in tow. Reaching into her pocket, Gabrielle pulled out a bright red ball and pulled her arm back to throw it.

"Gabby, no!" Ginny instantly recognized the innocent-looking ball as one of her twin brothers' creations and tried to intercept calamity by reaching out to stop the throw. But it was too late. The ball zipped from the girl's hand under its own power and ricocheted around the room, knocking over what it could not bounce off. In one of its errant bounces it hit against the door latch, popping the door open and with another couple of lightening-fast zips it was out the door- with the kneazel and the young French girl dashing behind into the desolate Diagon Alley dusk.

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"Hermione! Is that you!" Jane Granger stood at the doorstep and looked at the young woman who opened the door. "It's been too long… entirely too long!" the old woman cried out in glee and then pulled the younger woman into an affectionate bear hug. After the greeting, the woman let go, patted Hermione gently on the shoulder and entered the house, Hermione following, carrying her grandmother's luggage inside.

"Where's Grandfather?" Hermione asked, but somehow knowing the answer. Although he was near retirement, his work required him to travel extensively; often he was on the road for weeks at a time. She never exactly knew what he did - an engineering consultant for a large British contractor was what she had been told and she assumed that he did top-secret work in various British military and government installations around the world. In fact, she had seen the man only a couple of times since she had started at Hogwarts, and if pressed, perhaps only a dozen times more the previous years of her life. Grandma Jane, on the other hand, frequently visited the Grangers, although Hermione was rarely home and missed the vast majority of her visits over the past six years.

"Oh, on his way," Jane replied with a smile, although she knew too, that there would be an inevitable delay. "Tomorrow, or the next…" she said in a paced voice accompanied by a slight shake to her head betraying a slight disappointment. "But this is his last trip! Finishing up this project… always last minute details to hand over and you know him, so very thorough. You certainly take after him a great deal." She looked at the girl with affection and then added, "Yes, very much so."

Hermione smiled and set the luggage by the stairs and then escorted her grandmother to the kitchen where her parents were preparing dinner. After exchanging pleasantries, with her son, Sheldon Granger and daughter-in-law Caroline, Jane settled in and then joined the family for a quick dinner before returning to the living room to relax.

"He's in Japan now… I think," Jane said thoughtfully. "Or was that last week…? Anyhow, that will be over soon. Finally, it'll be just Malcolm and I – and I'll clobber him if he extends his retirement again. Seventy is old enough and although I never believed in mandatory retirement age before, I certainly do now." She then chuckled and smiled sweetly as her son held up his after-dinner brandy in salute. "Oh, before I forget…" she explained, "I must show you this. I was thinking of making a collage and getting a very suitable frame."

She went upstairs to fetch something from her luggage. When she returned she carried a large manila envelope. Opening it, she produced thick stack of old, yellowing photos that she sat on a cleared portion of the living room coffee table. "You would never believe where I got these, Sheldon!" she said as she looked to her son. "The Knobles sent them just a few weeks ago. Apparently they were remodeling and found them under the floorboards in your father's old study. I thought it was so kind of them to send it and to be honest, I didn't expect them to be still in the house, let alone remember us enough to look us up! It's been what…at least 30 years?" She asked rhetorically.

Hermione picked up a photo. It was captioned 'Halloween 1928 – Hoss' Best Day.' "Odd paper, Grandma" she said, noting mentally how the paper had a strange feel and almost a 3-D like appearance, not much unlike the wizarding photos she was accustomed to seeing. The image, which was in black and white - rather more like shades of brown and grey - showed four men, all who appeared to be in their early to mid-twenties. Three of the men were sitting at a table, all holding a 'thumbs up' while the fourth, a man with light colored hair and a light mustache, stood off to the side, talking to a very beautiful woman who appeared, from what Hermione could see, to be quite captivated by him. A man who looked like a much younger version of her grandfather sat on the far left, while another man, who had very familiar looking blonde hair and piercing pale eyes, sat next to him. Odd, though, it was as if everyone in the photo was holding his or her breath.

"Well, old processing methods plus being under floorboards – I'm sure the silver in the photos had a strange reaction," the older woman said nodding her head. "I'm surprised- and grateful - that they're in such good condition all considering." She took the photo and held it up and chuckled, "Quite some get-ups there. I've certainly have not seen anything like it. They must have been at some Renaissance Faire or something…" She pointed at a cut-off sign in the photo that read "aire".

"Oh," Hermione said simply, noting that everyone in the photo was dressed in robes or cloaks. Gently taking the photo back, she tilted it back and forth a few times and noted that the photo did not move and then she shook it back and forth.

"It's not a Polaroid, dear," Jane said to her granddaughter, confused by young woman's behavior.

"Oh, yes, of course," Hermione replied and blushed, silently chiding herself as her family were as Muggle, if not more so, than even Harry's aunt and uncle. She turned the photo over and on the back was some writing, most of it badly smudged, but she could make out the names of 'Me', 'Rax', 'Reggie' and 'Hoss' with the last names smudged and faded unreadable with age. "This can't be of Grandpa, though," Hermione noted as she flipped back to the front. "This photo is dated 1928 and his name isn't on the back. He was born in 1927, wasn't he? Maybe this is of a relative, his father or and uncle perhaps?"

"Hmm…" Jane took into consideration of what her Granddaughter had said. "To be honest, I recognized him and really didn't read, or think about, any of these dates. Well, although this would ruin the present, I'd hate to do a collage of photos of him and his friends and it turn out it wasn't him. That does make me feel better about some things though."

"Oh? What's that?" Caroline Granger asked, pouring a smidgen more brandy for herself and her mother-in-law.

Jane reached into the envelope again and pulled out a smaller white envelope. Opening it, she elaborated, "I assumed this was from his university days or perhaps he was at one time a member of the Freemasons or something similar." Pulling out the photos she handed them to Caroline who flipped through them one by one as Sheldon and Hermione leaned in and looked on. The photos showed Malcolm with a variety of other men and women, all wearing dark robes with hoods. The images themselves were not that disturbing, but in the background was a large round metal plaque, a shield, rather, which bore the skeletal face of a strange bird-like animal in the center and a feathered serpent forming an ouroboros around the edge. Hermione took one photo that showed the clearest picture of this shield and examined it closely.

"Thoth," she said and then cleared her throat realizing that she had said it out loud. Seeing that her family was looking at her intently she added. "Commonly known as the Egyptian god of the moon, writing, judgment and… err… magic..." She placed the photo back with the others her mother was holding and added. "The dates on these are 1942, well at least the one I just had. The man who looks like Grandpa looks a bit older than fifteen." She glanced warily at the pile of photos. "Seriously, I'd say that they're a joke. Someone probably sent them to…"

The living room wall exploded inward before Hermione could finish her sentence.

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"You must understand," Arthur Weasley said in a serious tone, "This is taking a far greater toll on your mother that you realize. You may have fared well all considering, Bill, but to her it was a 'near miss' and too close for comfort. She lost her brothers and a cousin in the last war and way too many friends to mention. With the losses in the Order, and especially with Dumbledore, she's just terrified of what will happen next. I think that's why she's immersed herself in the wedding – in some way trying to keep her mind off of it. And," he added, "that's why she's put everything aside regarding Fleur and have welcomed her and Gabby into the home – and even Harry for that matter previous to this– to make up for all those she's lost and in her own way try to make up for things that have been completely beyond her control."

Arthur patted his eldest son on the shoulder and then called over to Fred who was wrapping up a sale with a patron, the patron's group standing nervously at the door, ready to dash out at a moment's notice. "Fred, we need to meet them at Malkins soon and I'm not particularly keen on trying to get home too late after dark." He looked to Bill again, who was a bit pale and looking a tad nervous. Although Fenrir's bite did not make him a full werewolf, Bill did end up with a few 'wolfish' tendencies. And, given this was his second full moon after the attack – the first he was a bit 'testier' than normal – he felt it best to spend his time in the basement while the moon had rose and join the family after it had set. Their general plan was to gather the witches at Malkins, escort them back to the shop and use Fred and George's private floo in their upstairs apartment to get home where Bill could retire to the basement. That is, as soon as they got the signal from Molly to go get them and as soon as the twins could close up shop.

"Too late for that," George added, pointing out the window to the dark skies. He immediately put down what he was doing and went over to help his twin brother, hoping their doubled efforts would speed things along.

"Gabby's in the street!" Ron said quickly pointing out the display window. "Following that stupid kneazel!" Ron opened the door and yelled down the street, "Gabby, stop… we'll find her later… we'll…"

Before he could finish, the sounds of loud snaps filled the air, as a dozen black-clad Death Eaters disapparated in the street. In the skies above, a cadre of dementors circled overhead like evil birds of prey, making room through their masses for a few werewolves who were descending; apparently using Port keys to arrive at their destination.

Gabrielle simply froze where she stood, too terrified to move, her screams drowned out by the other patrons who were caught outdoors, and all oblivious to the two figures running towards her from Knockturn Alley.