Author's Note: Hey all! I wanted to say thank you first of all for coming to read this story! I started it because my fiancé is a huge Harry/Hermione fan and begged me to write this left and right for the last MONTH AND A HALF. So, being the loving fiancé that I am, I obliged. I also want to inform you potential readers and fans that anyone who reviews can have the first two pages of the next chapter emailed to them before the chapter is up! Bear through this chapter, and I promise chapter two will have excitement!
Disclaimer: I will say this once, only because I tend forget to put these in the chapters as I write. I do not own Harry Potter, this is a purely fan made story meant to entertain.
Chapter One: Brewing Troubles.
August 19, 1996.
"Harry, Dear?" Molly Weasley chirped in her incessantly happy voice bringing Harry out of his sleep, not that it was pleasant anyway. His hands came up to rub at his swollen eyes as he forced himself into a sitting position and grabbed the glasses on the stand next to him.
Why did everyone have to be so damn cheerful this early in the morning? "Dumbledore wishes to speak with you, he is in the kitchen," she continued, her pudgy face peeking into the room to give Harry a smile.
"Why?" he inquired as he got out of bed, grabbing the first pair of jeans he found, along with one of Dudley's oversized t-shirts he had been given.
"I don't know, best not keep him waiting," she said shutting the door. Harry groaned, slipping into the pants that fit nicely on him now that he was older followed by the grey shirt.
He tossed a glance around the room, his solace for the last few nights, then walked out and headed for the kitchen. He saw Dumbledore standing next to the kitchen sink, garbed in dark royal purple robes, a stark contrast to his snowy white beard. "Professor," Harry spoke up first, drawing the man's attention. He gave Harry a grandfatherly smile, waving his hand to cast a silencing charm on the kitchen.
"Ah, Harry," he said, clasping his hands together, his baby blue eyes sparkling with their normal hint of mischief. "Good to see you, I trust you are doing well?"
"As well as one can do after losing the only family who matters to them," Harry deadpanned. Dumbledore gave him an apologetic smile, and gestured with his hands. The dark haired teen shifted his weight and said, "You wanted to talk, Sir?"
"Ah, yes," the old man said slowly, as if formulating the best way to say what he needed. He gestured towards a stool off to the side and it slide towards Harry. "Sit," he said with a smile. Hesitating only a moment, Harry took the seat he was offered, his fingers drumming against his leg.
The white haired wizard reached into one of the various pockets of his robe and procured a small yellow candy. "Lemon drop?" he offered to Harry, who shook his head. After Dumbledore popped the sour candy into him mouth, he folded his hands together, a barely audible sigh leaving him.
"It has been brought to my attention that the Death Eaters are organising an attack in attempt to take the Ministry of Magic," he said slowly, giving Harry a chance to digest the information.
"What?!" he exclaimed, coming to his feet making the barstool crash to the stone floor. "You can't be serious?" he asked with horror. "If the Ministry falls, Voldemort would be able to do as he pleased!" Dumbledore motioned with his hand for Harry to calm down.
"I am well aware of this," said the older man softly. "I have warned Scrimgeour of the impending danger, but there is nothing more I can do."
"There must be, Sir! Why can't Snape get more information?" Harry bit out. "He is supposed to be able to! He is our spy!" His hands clenched into fists, his nails biting painfully into his palms.
"I know you are upset, Harry," Dumbledore assured him with a nod. "But to garner anymore information from Professor Snape could endanger his cover," he continued, knowing Harry was fuming mad. Dumbledore paused, to lightly suck on the candy in his mouth. "I assure you, Harry, that we are doing what we can," he gave Harry a look, much like he had when he knew something Harry didn't.
"So why tell me, Sir?" he snapped out.
"There are some things, Harry, that you simply must be aware of," he answered simply, though something in his eyes said there was more too it. The dark haired teen exhaled slowly, making an effort to control his building rage. "It would be wise not to tell too many people about this," he added after a moment.
"Sir, the only people I would tell are Ron and Hermione," replied Harry. "They are the only ones I trust enough not to blabber about it." His green eyes study Dumbledore who shook his head.
"No, Mister Weasley is too volatile," the Headmaster cut in. "If those are the only people you would tell then tell only Miss Granger." Harry's eyebrows drew together with confusion.
"But, Sir, Ron is my best friend," he interjected. "We have been through so much together that it would be impossible for me not to tell him."
"Harry," the other let out a sigh. "There is a fine line between friends and enemies," was all he said, before tossing Harry a sad smile. "You will come to understand what I mean in time, now, I must be off, I have other matters to attend to," and with a soft pop, Harry was left alone in the kitchen.
The raven haired teen unclenched his fingers, his head swimming with Dumbledore's information. "What does he mean there is a fine line between friends and enemies, surely he wasn't talking about Ron," he muttered to himself, his fingers coming up to rub at his temples.
He shuffled out of the kitchen, intent on finding the most comfortable chair he could, and think. As he walked out, heading for the small study, Kreacher appeared before him. "Master," he hissed, his eyes narrowed with distaste. "Is there anything yous needs?"
"Yes, when Hermione wakes, tell her to find me," he replied back harshly.
"The mudblood girl?" the house elf muttered more to himself than to Harry.
"Kreacher, you foul thing, you are not to call her that," the teen commanded pointing a finger at him. The house elf cringed, expecting a blow to come, but when none did, he hastily scuttled off muttering that it would be a pleasure.
Later that morning.
Harry could hear shuffling in the rooms above as people slowly started to climb out of bed and knew it would be only a few moments before Hermione made her way to the study, only a few moments before he found a way to break the news of the impending attack.
As if on cue, there was a soft knock on the door, and a muffled, "Harry? It's me."
"Come in," he called to her, his eyes fixed on the door where she would appear in a matter of seconds. The door slowly swung open to reveal her. Her chestnut mass of curls was haphazardly piled on the top of her head in a messy bun, and she was wearing a baggy white tee-shirt and jean shorts. It was nothing extraordinary, but the sight had his breath catching in his throat.
Even when she was downplaying her beauty, she looked gorgeous. "You wanted to see me?" she asked, placing her hands on her hips while her honey coloured eyes probed his with worry. He cleared his throat to buy him a few seconds to find his voice, and nodded.
"Yes," he answered her, motioning for Hermione to join him. She took the seat next to him, her slender hand coming to rest on his knee.
"Harry?" she asked softly.
There was no easy way to tell her, Harry concluded, he would just have to be blunt. He reached into his pocket, grabbed his wand, and softly muttered,"Muffliato," before turning his attention towards Hermione. As he slide his wand into his pocket again, his eyes connected with her curious ones. "Dumbledore came to visit," he stated bluntly.
"What… What did he want?" she asked, a feeling of unease pooling in her stomach.
"He came to inform me that," Harry trailed off, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes.
"That?" she probed, her hand lightly squeezing his knee.
"That the Death Eater's are organising an attack," he finished.
"What?!" she exclaimed.
"He didn't have many details to spare, but he said it would be on the Ministry," he replied placing his hand on top of hers. His eyes watched her face as realisation slowly dawned on her and morphed her face into one of horror.
"But if the Ministry falls," she whispered, her fingers clenching his knee. "This is terrible news!" Harry nodded with agreement, his thumb lightly brushing over her hand.
"Oh, and 'Mione," he said softly. "Don't tell Ron, Dumbledore wants very few people to know about this." Hermione paused for a moment, and then nodded.
"Ronald has a tendency to babble when he is nervous or angry," Hermione slowly said. "He would unintentionally say something and send people into a panic."
Harry frowned, and leaned forward to give her a chaste kiss on the cheek. "Thank you, 'Mione," said Harry as he got to his feet.
"You're welcome," she answered.
September 1, 1996. Platform 9¾ 10:30 am.
Something wasn't right when the crossed the barrier to the Hogwarts Express, the tension was so palpable you could cut it with a knife. Hermione put a calming hand on Harry's shoulder as they picked their way across the train station to meet up with Ron, Luna and Neville. "Hello Harry," Luna said in her usual tone, which made her sound as if she was daydreaming. "You look absolutely dreadful!" Neville elbowed the pale haired girl lightly, giving Harry an apologetic smile.
"Thanks for that assessment, Luna," Harry replied, knowing not to take what Luna said too seriously.
"Let's go find some place to sit," Hermione suggested, dropping the hand on Harry's shoulder as they turned to board the train. "Something doesn't seem right," she whispered to Harry as Ron and Neville boarded.
"You feel it too?" Harry whispered back. Hermione nodded. "Keep your guard up." As Luna entered the train, Hermione followed suit, then lastly Harry.
"Did you notice?" Luna asked, "That all the Slytherins are trying to get seats in the first two carriages?" Four heads turned towards Luna with questioning looks.
"Normally they sit scattered in little packs, much like Nargles, but even some first years were ushered towards the front," she continued when no one spoke up. "Surely you guys noticed as well?"
Hermione spoke up first. "No, Luna, we didn't," she tossed Harry a worried look before glancing down at her watch. 10:40. "Are you sure you weren't just seeing things, there are still a lot of students out there."
"I'm positive," she answered.
"They are planning something," Harry blurted out, his eyes searching outside the train.
"Don't be silly," Ron scoffed, crossing his arms grumpily. "They probably decided to sit together because they can't stand the rest of the school." Green eyes met with angry blue and Harry shook his head.
"I don't think so, Ron," he replied. "Something just feels…wrong."
"You want us to believe that they are planning something because you have a feeling?" Ron incredulously asked. "That has got to be the most arrogant—"
"Ronald!" Hermione gasped, giving him an annoyed look. "Harry's feelings have never been wrong before."
"Except for Snape, Draco being the heir, Sirius being a murder, and Sirius being tortured at the Ministry!" Ron shot back.
"What is your problem, Ronald?" she hissed back crossing her arms over her chest. "You are acting like a right foul git!"
Ron's face darkened with fury, turning nearly as red as his hair. "I am just saying that Harry has been wrong before!"
"Enough!" Harry interjected before Hermione could retort. "We can't be arguing amongst ourselves with a war at our door!"
"Harry is right," Luna chirped airily.
An angry silence befell them as Hermione checked her watch once more. 10:50. Almost time to go. She could feel relief spreading through her, soon they would be safely on the way to Hogwarts, or so she thought.
At precisely 10:55 all hell broke loose.
Author's Note: Okay, so here is the first chapter. It is actually shorter than I would like it to be, and it seemed a little dull, but I do promise there is more action in the next chapter. I got this idea from a little plot bunny someone posted, I plan on mingling that one with the plot my fiancé and I came up with! I can't wait.
And remember! If you review, I will send you 2 pages of the next chapter before it is up! If you don't have a fanfiction account, you can leave your email as youremailhere at gmail dot com and I can email it to you, I can also do deviantart and livejournal if you have accounts there as well.
Mila Reeves.