Well, I'm back! I must apologise, working full time has finally taken its toll on me, and I've had this chapter with me for quite a long time now, yet...computational issues :( Believe it or not, this entire chapter was constructed through pieced together text messages! However, the final twenty chapters are on their way! I'm trying veeery hard to get this finale sorted ASAP, and to try and make it just as good as the original! So please, do review for me, and I'll give as many chapters as I can, as quick as I can. Please enjoy my first upload and let me know what you think :) I'm aiming for 250 reviews this time :D and to get out at least a chapter a week. Happy Reading!
Disclaimer: It all belongs to J K Rowling, apart from the obvious changes :P
Chapter One: To Battle
"Hermione darling!" Came a long loud call from somewhere below her, Hermione Granger slowly swiveling upon the chair in her room to face her simple arched vanity mirror and taking yet another look at herself. With great bags under her eyes and paling skin, she sighed heavily. She had been home almost two weeks and already she was having extreme withdrawals. Every time she closed her eyes she could only picture Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, its turrets reaching high into the sky and casting their great shadows over its forests and sweeping grounds, disappearing into its waters of the Black Lake, and out into the mountains. It's inhabitants, her friends, all of whom seemed lost to her, those she would be fortunate to ever see again. Blinking back tears, she gulped loudly, pushing her long, bushy brown hair back down as best as she could, straightening out her thoroughly average lemon blouse and black skirt and pulling on a small black jacket. She had been dreading this day, ever since it had been suggested, had wanted to run away and hide from it, so she would not have to accept that she had at last been forced back into a normal life. And now, as her mother called to her up the stairs, she had to try desperately to hold herself together as she looked sadly around her tiny room, its plain ecru and cream walls, with not a shed of remembrance that could incline towards the magical world that she had left behind her. "You'll be late if you don't get moving soon!" Her mother shouted again, this time louder, seemingly closer, perhaps now by the stairs looking for her. Hermione stood, drew a deep shuddering breath to calm herself and then proceeded to pull her door open and push herself out of it.
"Yes..." She said quietly, shutting her door and leaning heavily against it, the stairs in front of her seeming longer than ever, as a never ending stairway that descended only into misery. "I'm coming!" She called a little louder, giving herself a large push from the wooden frame and beginning to make her way down towards her kitchen, the seconds of her life slowly draining away, even though she felt as though it were only moving in slow motion, the time taking her just to reach her own kitchen seemed eternal.
"You should hurry." Her mother called again, clearly unaware that she had entered the room as she furiously scrubbed at a frying pan inside the sink, a little startled as she turned to face her daughter's fragile frame as Hermione leaned heavily against the old door frame, staring miserably at her mother. She simply wanted the ground to swallow her, take her wholly and painlessly away from the emptiness that pulsated out from her stomach, twisting and knotting her entire being in revulsion. Hermione watched the elder woman bite her lip disapprovingly before forcing a smile across her face."Look at yourself." She withdrew her hands from the water and pulled them through a towel, drying them thoroughly before holding her arms out towards Hermione. She shuffled forwards a little, allowing her upper arms to be gripped tightly as they faced each other indefinitely. "At least we no you'll make a good impression when you meet Mr Stevenson." Nodding furiously, Hermione tried to smile at her mother, only managing a slight grimace as she fought back the immense and overwhelming need to throw up. This was the day her fate would seal itself, the day that everything would change.
"I know, I know." She muttered dismally, making the entire room turn ridiculously icy, even more so when her father entered unexpectedly, making her jump and shy away from him. He pulled out his chair and settled himself into reading a tossed aside newspaper whilst also busily preparing himself a warm cup of tea from the teapot. With a loud meow, a large ginger ball of fluff entered the room, stretching widely and slinking over towards Hermione, Crookshanks the half-kneazle proceeding to rub himself up against her legs and purr lightly at her as she leant down to scratch him behind his ears.
"Now, please dear, try to make friends." Her mother's voice trailing over her as she shuffled back to the sink, continuing her onslaught against the pan that still lay hidden inside the bowl of soap and suds.
"Mum, I don't start until September, there'll only be staff there." Hermione replied miserably, biting her lip a little in frustration, a little at her mother's sudden stupidity, only adding to her bitter mood.
"Well...It's nice to make a good impression. Isn't it...Dear?" Her mother replied, not looking to any of those in the room but, Hermione suspected, having felt that she needed further reinforcement from her husband to cover her previous blunder. Her father placed down all he was holding and rounded upon her heavily, his eyebrows knitted tightly as he gave her a half suspicious, half threatening stare.
"Yes. You make good of this one Hermione. I'm not having any repeat performances." His voice was strained, Hermione knowing exactly what he was referring to, cringing as she thought back to the day she had arrived home with the awful news that she had to bear.
"What do you mean shut?" Her father had shrieked that evening, spilling his cup of coffee all over the carpet, much to her mothers obvious annoyance and disgust, who had tottered off, returning with various pieces of cleaning equipment.
"The school closed." Hermione had repeated, her voice trembling a little in fear of her father's offhanded and unusual fury, but also from her own guilt of once again lying about her current situation. True, the school had not shut, she had been thrown from it, yet revealing that fact would have only have meant that she would have had to unveil the past six years of her lies and deception. She still suspected heavily that her fathers anger stemmed only from his knowledge that she was hiding something important from him and that he wanted desperately to drag it from her.
"What? And that's it?" He had asked, obviously astonished that his daughter's career as a supposed witch could be over so quickly, before it had even begun.
"Well...Yes..." She had replied, bending forwards from her sitting place in front of the fireplace to scoop Crookshanks into her arms, trying to find some kind of comfort under her parents piercing stares.
"But you have one more year! Just one! We've never seen any of this magic you've been learning, and now what? We won't because they've shut the school?" He had asked, his face twisting in disbelief. Hermione had known that he did not truly blame her, simply had no one else to question or probe upon the sudden change in their lives.
"What can I do? It happened Dad, I can't change it!" Hermione had said, a little harsher than she had intended, but did not regret it, cuddling her cat further and hiding herself within his fur.
"Well...Don't you have some kind of number I could ring to complain?" Her father had said suddenly, desperately clutching to anything that he could to try and find an adequate solution, having forgotten the ways of the magical world.
"Dad...They don't use phones..." She had replied quietly, still not looking at her father as she had shuffled around uncomfortably and biting her finger nails lightly.
"An address?" Her father had pushed further, exasperation evident through his voice as it almost broke while he had been speaking, looking at her with a fallen face.
"I...I don't know where it is." She had added, knowing he was thoroughly disappointed with her responses, despite her honesty in having no others to give. Yet her mother had now felt the need to intervene having finished scrubbing the spilt coffee from the carpet and sitting straight to stare at her husband.
"Darling...Maybe we should just-" She had begun gently but was cut off immediately as her husband raised a high hand.
"No. No. I'm not having my little girl walk away with nothing!" He had pushed, ultimately heavily confirming Hermione's thoughts about his unnatural behaviour.
"She can always enroll in the local Sixth Form. It's not the end of the world." Hermione's stomach had sunk at her words, the final blow to her body and mind, a suggestion of sending her back into the Muggle world once and for all. "There's no point in fretting my Dear." She had felt sick at the flipancy of her mothers words, knowing she was only trying to relieve the situation but inadvertently making it so much worse for her own daughter. "She can't help it." Her mother had finished with a large smile that she shared with both of them, Hermione feeling worse than ever, wanting to hide away forever and let the world pass her by without suffering or pain or living with the loss of her unique life. Yes, she had been a slave, yes she had been miserable at times, her life in danger and threatened constantly, but she had witnessed wonderful things. She had met truly amazing people and had experiences that not many others had had, and if it were not for her slavery, she knew that she could have enjoyed it fully.
"There's something else going on here, she's not telling us!" He had insisted as his wife had gathered her things and exited the room not taking his eyes from the space she had filled, even as she vanished from his sight. When no reply came he had instead returned back to his daughter, staring down at Hermione and pleading with her, a sad look etched into his desperate features, "Hermione. What is it? It's been going on for years...What has happened?" She had studied him momentarily, for the first time truly debating whether to spill everything she could and wipe the slate clean between them. Yet her mind screamed at her otherwise, forcing her to bite her lip and no longer look at him.
"My school shut down. I can't do anything. I can't change it!" She had puffed finally, storming from the room and dragging Crookshanks behind her roughly, despite his obvious scratching and strugglings as he had cried out at her uncomfortably. "I'll be fine. I promise." She now said quietly, turning to face her father who seemed to be fully aware that she had been thinking of that day, just as he had and he cleared his through loudly.
"You had better be going." He said confidently, sounding more imperative than declarative and stood, putting a hand to her back and giving her a push towards the front door rather unecessarily forcefully. "I'll see you off." He said, sounding much more cheery, only making Hermione more suspicious of him.
"But-" She begun to protest as she was pushed out into the hallway, sighing heavily as he closed the kitchen door behind him, striding strongly towards the front door and throwing in open, "Yes..." She muttered, feeling compelled to following him down the garden path slowly, her entire being dragging behind her, her spirit and life cemented instead into the walls of the castle she had left and the people that would be awaiting her return in September, one that was destined never to come.
"You're sure that there's nothing aren't you?" Her father asked loudly, Hermione only now realising that he had come to a stop by their front gate, looking at her in pure desperation. She felt truly sorry for him, suffering from his own daughters silence, fearing the secrets she was keeping from him. She had betrayed his trust and it made her feel sick. Before she had been able to escape, occupy her mind with other things, but now she had no escape, having realised that the truth would have to come sooner rather than later.
"Not a thing..." She replied quietly, her head hung low as she pushed through the gate, not looking back once even as she waved over her shoulder, frustration, guilt and anger burning deeply within her. Rounding a corner she let out a small cry into the empty street, knowing that she was close to the building that would seal her life as a normal student. She knew that she would be able to adapt and cope with the work and even the surroundings, her fear came from the things and people she would find there. There would be no magic, nothing out of the ordinary, and the chance of her being disliked by her fellow classmates was overwhelming. She had had few friends until she had gone to Hogwarts, all that she had had abandoning her when she had transferred. There was no one that had stayed in contact with her, no matter where she had gone from Muggle world, only Kevin, Justin and Carla keeping in regular contact, just to know that she was well and perhaps to even meet up from time to time. Yet, there was one other that had tried to keep her close over the years, right up until this one. He, Ronald Weasley, had always kept her, had refused to let her from him whether it was the holidays or not. Yes, many a time it had been for his own gain or to tease her, taking full advantage of his position as her Master and she as his slave, but she now could not help feeling at least a little grateful that she had been worth his time and effort and that he had thought of her back in her Muggle town, lonely without any form of correspondence at all.
There came a sudden rustling from down a small snicket that branched away to her left rather discreetly, something inside her urging her to investigate. She could not tell if it was her thirst for and lack of recent adventure, or if her intuition was actually telling her something, arguing with herself even as she began to creep quietly through the small, almost covered alley, looking for anything out of the ordinary. She gave a sudden start as a man atop a large wooden crate stared back at her, grinning playfully. "Professor Moody?" She asked cautiously, her eyes slowly adjusting to the fading light of the sheltered area, unsure of herself, not really even able to make out if it was truly he who stood before her and if it was, she could not think why. Yet he was there, his wooden features and scared face staring back at her giving her an overwhelming feeling of anxiety. His face turned to hers, one of his eyes staring at her intently, the other, a replacement for one that he had lost, electric blue and swivelling madly in its socket. She had hardly known this particular professor despite how much she had thought so, having been formerly employed by her once and now deceased headmaster, Professor Dumbledore, to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts in her fourth year. Yet he had been kidnapped by a supporter of the dark forces, a servant of Lord Voldemort, Bartimus Crouch Jr., who had taken his place and his form in order to dispose of Harry Potter. Hermione shuddered slightly, even now anxious that the most famous Auror of all time had been captured by one of those that he had hunted, an act the could have cost one of her former fellow Gryffindor's their life.
"Alright there Granger?" He grunted over to her, tapping his wooden leg against the brick floor with seeming ever growing impatience. "And you know I ain't no Professor anymore." He gave a small pat upon the empty space of crate beside him, beckoning her over a little. With only a slight hesitation she shuffled forwards, gingerly seating herself beside him and clasping her hands together tightly, suddenly finding the floor beneath her feet hugely interesting and entertaining.
"Well...What do I call you?" She asked suddenly, almost sounding as though she had been waiting for the most obvious thing in the world and he had disrespect her by not providing the required information. Yet in truth, it was her terror made audible, her mind in overdrive. There could only be a limited number of reasons as to why he of all people had come to her, to find her when nobody else had done so.
"People normally go with Alastor or Mad-Eye, so I guess the choice is yours girl." He replied, not actually looking at her, but choosing instead to keep both eyes looking from side to side, surveying their area intently and diligently, obviously under the impression that they were being spied upon.
"Yes Sir." She took a small peek up a hint and bit her lip, having fallen back upon her learnt response, though he did not seem to mind or challenge the issue.
"Now. It's important that you listen to this girl, it's worth more than your life." He said quietly, looking back down at her seriously for the first time causing her stomach to quiver, her legs react instantly and she stood, backing away an painfully colliding with the wall opposite. He raised a questioning eyebrow at her as she released aloud, long held breath that she was not aware that she had een holding until that very moment. "Now maybe I shouldn't be here in the first place...Sit back down..." He continued, pointing back to the space she had vacated, Hermione eyeing it wearily, not really wanting be anywhere near him for fear of what he would say, feeling increasingly sickened by his presence.
"But I'm meant to be-" She began hurriedly, hoping to find an excuse to escape him, half of her afraid, the other half dying with interest and intrigue.
"Never mind that now. I've come to ask for your help." He said sternly, dropping his voice even lower, almost to a growl. Hermione froze, her breath caught and her lungs still as her eyes widened. He had come because she was needed, somebody needed her help. The magical world was calling out to her.
"...Help?" She asked cautiously, Mad-Eye obviously aware that his words had sparked her interest as he motioned her to sit by him once more. Scurrying to his side she looked up at him, actually excited about what he was going to tell her.
"Now, Ron asked me not to, but you don't belong to him anymore, haven't for a long time, so I couldn't really keep my word on it, see?" He gave her a casual grin, his magic ee spinning around in its socket wildly, on the look out for intruders. Hermione could only look at him, utterly dumbfounded by his need to relive her past in such a quick sweeping of words for no apparent reason.
"I am completely lost now." She said honestly, earning a small chuckle from him as he stood upwards, beginning to shuffle out towards the street, Hermione trotting along behind him closely ready to catch any snippet of information that may fall from his lips.
"If ye shut up and listen, you might do. Now, I know you don't know much, or even why this is all happening. I maybe shouldn't ask, but this is one last time." Hermione stopped abruptly, having to give herself a quick shake before catching up to him. Something secret, something important, he had come to her because there was nowhere else to turn, bringing her back into their world for one last run.
"Had something happened?" She asked cautiously, keeping as close to him as she possibly could, almost getting caught up in his long trench coat and falling flat upon her face.
"Not yet it's not. Harry's birthday, you know it don't you?" He asked discreetly, slowly shuffling along as quickly and as quietly as he could, bending downwards towards her slightly.
"Of course, I-" She began to reply but he cut her off again,
"We're moving him four days before then, going all the way to get him to a safe house before they come after him." Hermione stopped again, this time Mad-Eye stopping with her, both of them facing on another sternly. She could barely feel anything, her body numbed by the thought of being a part of such a large operation. "Are you in?" He asked, looking directly at her. She was so still she could barely force out a small nod, her mouth dry and her skin sweaty and uncomfortable. "Look, I know you wont be able to defend yourself, but there's few people who can say they've earned his trust like you have." Finally managing to move, she shuffled in close to him, a swelling in her chest as she listened to Mad-Eye, a little astonished that Harry had thought such things about her, that anyone could have ever considered her such a valuable friend and asset."You could help keep him safe, and you'll be with Kingsley Shacklebolt, as safe as you can be." Her head cocked to the side a little the name burning around her mind a little and it the reaches of her seldom used memory, racking her brain cells for the information that she required.
"Wait...He's the aid to the Muggle Prime Minister, isn't he?" She asked, her own astonishment surprising even her, having not for one second thought that Minister Shacklebolt could have possibly been a wizard.
"Guard more like. You'll be in safe hands." He replied, possibly trying to reassure her a little, though with little effect as she stumbled alongside him, the two of them wandering from the pavement and over a small patch of unused and empty grass, with all but a small sitting rock at its centre. "I don't have much time, will you help to protect Harry?" He asked, a sense of urgency in his voice as he looked around them again, almost as though he could sense an oncoming person.
"Yes...I'll do it." She said finally, her body icy and jumpy; almost regretting her minds power over her will and over her vocal chords. Mad-Eye straightened up suddenly, looking thoroughly pleased with both her and himself,
"Three days." He said quietly, going up the adequate amount of fingers slyly from beneath his coat, bidding aptly to her. "Not a word...To anyone." With an splitting crack, he disappeared, leaving Hermione alone, more confused and more terrified than ever.
~x~x~x~
She was still in shock, there was no doubt about it as she sat, practically numb and glued to the spot upon her small bed, inside her small, dull room. Ever since the previous day she had thought of nothing but her conversation with Mad-Eye, had spent hours trailing the streets and through parks and playing fields, had completely abandoned the idea of going to see Mr Stevenson, knowing full well that within a few days he would be on the phone to her parents, complaining about her inadequacy. Yet, she thought, at least if he did, she would not have to endure their relentless nagging and forever persistent disappointment for long. Mad-Eye would come for her and they would understand everything, she would go back to the magical world as her duty commanded. For her friends, her family and her life, she would return to loyalty and friendship wherever it needed her most. Having eventually made it to her own home once more, only to find her mind in a constant daze as she stumbled around her home, paying little attention to her surroundings or its other occupants, mulling over her last conversation, trying desperately to piece an pieces of information together as best as she could. Yet now there was a loud shout, something to drag her out of the suspended stupor with a large jolt, "Hermione!" Her mother called wearily from somewhere below her. She sighed heavily and dragged herself upwards, not really wanting to engage in a conversation with her mother, but seeing no other option, the apprehension in her voice making her feel incredibly interested and intrigued by the reason she was being summoned for. "Hermione!" The call came louder as she began down the stairs, the strain from her mother more evident than ever, her voice almost breaking at the end, fading out into nothing. "HERMIONE!" The shriek came terrifyingly this time, screaming out into the otherwise silent house. With a sudden start, Hermione jumped the last few steps and ragged open the door to her living room, looking around frantically for the source of her now absent mother's distress. Yet, to her, there seemed to be little out of place and nothing that should be treated as suspicious.
"What is it Mama?" She asked, sounding and looking thoroughly bored, not even moving as the older woman popped out from behind the sofa and crab crawled across the edge towards her daughter. Her eyes were wide and staring, her skin paled and she whipped her head around frantically, extending an arm out towards the windowsill. She was visibly shaking, yet Hermione still could see nothing out of the ordinary. It was not as though there were many places to hide, there were only two couches and a television set in front of her, the rest of the rooms entities and ornamental features behind them, lining the walls and giving the room a warmer strength to it.
"What...What is this?" Her mother whispered, obviously horrified, not wanting to even speak aloud for fear of disturbing whatever it was that was by the sill. Sighing heavily, she moved from her mother and shuffled towards the window, visibly bored and clearly expecting to see absolutely nothing. Hermione could simply not understand why she had been dragged from her solitary pit by a woman who had seemingly seen nothing and had lost her mind to thin air. Huffing, she eyed the sill lazily, but gave a sudden start as the cream curtain before her shifted slightly. A tittering squeak sounded, shrill yet quiet, the curtain shaking a little more vigorously. Heart beating faster, she almost understood her mothers terror, did not want to reveal whatever was there herself, felt instantly sickened that there was a mysterious being within her house. Yet at the same time, she felt elated, enthralled that something new had come into her life, especially when she had set herself for a boring life, with no new surprises to follow. A slightly shaking hand extending out, she decided it would be better to not prolong the tension and whipped it back as quickly as she could, her other hand outstretched, ready to either shield herself or attack whatever was waiting for her. Yet her heart stopped momentarily, a smile breaking out over her face as her eyes lit in delight.
"A dragon..." She breathed, but stopped suddenly, a small crested black head looking up at her, crooning in her direction before spreading its wings and flapping manically at her. Her brow furrowed, her awe replaced by confusion, the small creature now very recognisable to her. She had, only a few months earlier, scurried out towards the Village of Hogsmeade, purchased the small porcelain creature and then hidden in deep within the folds of her dress, ready to give as a present for her once Master from Gryffindor.
"GET RID OF IT!" Her mother's screeching brought her back to her senses suddenly, her head snapping upwards and towards the woman who was now perched heavily upon the arm of a chair. She jumped even further as Crookshanks half slithering into the room obviously interested in the roaring commotion he had missed out upon. Yet he hissed loudly at her as she cried out once more, bolting from the room in a hideous rage, "DRAGON! DRAGON IN THE HOUSE!" Hermione's mother shrieked even louder, her hysteria becoming ever more evident as her pitch increased to an alarming level.
"Mum, it's fine..." Hermione began, scooping the small creature into one hand and spinning found gracefully, holding it up high so that it could be seen perfect. "It's just porcelain." She smiled happily, glad as her mother stiffened slightly, falling silent and staring at her cautiously, frequently eyeing the small creature.
"W...What?" She asked slowly, her body unfolding slightly as she seemed to relax a little, though she clearly did not want to come any closer the knew being.
"It's not real, just enchanted to mimic life...Though, perhaps, it appears to have a conscious of it's own, life may have found it's own way." Hermione commented rather wisely,observing closely as it leapt from her hand and soared rather gracefully around the room before coming to rest upon the wooden mantelpiece, casually chirping to itself and crooning softly. Yet Hermione could not understand how it had come it be inside her home, having honestly never expected to see it ever again.
"Hermione? That is NOT HELPING!" Her mother cried, looking as though she were about to lunge forward, but backing away with one eye fixed to the dragon.
"Where did you find this?" Hermione asked cautiously, knowing it would not have just abandoned Ron, which would only lead to one other logical solution.
"Sat inside the letterbox!" Came the reply as the elder woman slowly crept towards the door, busily fiddling with the knob, having seemingly forgotten how to open a door. Hermione's eyebrows knitted together tightly, her mind trying desperately to think how such a surprise could have made it through the postal system. It had to have come from the Weasley household, and without the use of an owl by the looks of it. It could only mean that a second attempt at using Muggle post had been successfully completed, very much unlike the previous. Ron had attempted in their second summer holiday to send her his collection of exploding snap cards so that she could arrange and file them, and make notes of which others he was still in need of. Hermione could still recall the fear of the postwoman as she threw the already exploding packs towards the house and ran down the street screaming hysterically. It still made her cringe, even all of these years later.
"Wait...Did something come for me?" She asked, the possibility of also having received a letter along with the parcel increasing rapidly the more she thought about it. Excitement fluttering inside of her, the thought of more contact with the magical world overly compelling her to bowl her own mother out of her way in order to reach their box.
"What? Why are you asking such a thing now?" She asked, finally managing to open the door and falling back through it, ramming into the staircase.
"Wait..." Hermione shot past here, opening the door widely and unhooking the box, pulling out various pieces of mail and sifting through them. Since their last explodingly magical experience, her father had taken it upon himself to board up their original door flap in order to prevent any further incidents, yet her mother had still managed to abandon the post because of another having arisen. "Here!" She threw the majority of the pile to one side, a thin flimsy envelope clasped firmly in her fingers. Shutting the door behind her, she carefully opened it and began to read, her eyes flickering tirelessly across the messy scrawlings.
Hermione,
I should have done this earlier. Here's Hrontore, the Bringer-Of-Ashes, I sent her to you, not that I'm not grateful or anything, I am. She was a nice gift, but you'll make better use of her I think. She's enchanted, she knows what to do and will keep you and your family safe as long as she can. Try to keep her hidden too. And you.
R.W
Hermione was still, not speaking even as she finished reading the note several times, dumbfounded by the message and utterly baffled as to why she would need any kind of protection from anything. She had been cut off from the magical world and had thought that that in itself would have been enough. Yet she was indeed extremely grateful to be able to hold onto something special, a little piece of magic, the smallest remembrance of him, of Ron, just for her. It was proof that those precious years had not been a lavish, complex dream, and had in fact occurred. "Mum, it's okay. Hrontore's a gift from...From a friend." She said quietly, finally lowering the parchment from in front of her face, fully aware that her eyes would be wet, the swell of emotion inside of her almost too much to control.
"Ho what? It has a name?" Her mother replied, seeming to have calmed a little, her hysteria waning, beginning to trust her daughters judgement, possibly a little more than she was comfortable with.
"Yes...She does." Hermione replied softly, sweeping her way into the living room and to where Hrontore was still perched and peered at her curiously, full aware of her mothers loud scufflings as she scuttled up the stairs, "Well, what is it you need to do?" The dragon let out a loud cry, much more so than Hermione could have imagined to have been produced from such a small creature. It jumped high and spread its wings wide, leaping into the air and circling the room a few times before returning to the window sill, watching through the window silently and vigilant. "Hmm...Maybe I should just leave you to it." Hermione reasoned, earning a shrieking response, which she took as its agreeance, leaving the room quickly and shutting the door behind her.
~x~x~x~
It was rather breezy as Hermione sat peacefully upon an old peeling wood bench with Crookshanks upon her lap and Hrontore upon her shoulder, gazing lazily out over her back garden, noticing for the first time just how plain it was to the eyes. With little shrubbery and no flora the grass seemed blunt and dull, as though it had detached itself, giving up on a lush lifestyle and tending towards its end. She sighed heavily and gave both of her companions a grateful flourish of attention, her own body numbed from her pain of waiting. With all of her few treasured possessions paced secretly and ready to depart with her, she had had little else to do other than wait for her calling, to wait to be brought back to her duty. She thought of her family, the little she had, of her pets, her friends. Each were dear to her, each she had fought tirelessly to protect each and every time that she had needed to, and now she could not shake the feeling that this would be it, her final stand against the perils of the world before the final curtain fell over her. "You're ready then?" A voice suddenly boomed out over her, Hrontore rising into the air and breathing out a small but surprisingly powerful puff of fire in the direction of the gardens new arrival before setting off to soar randomly around the garden.
"Mad-Eye?" She stood up abruptly, Crookshanks falling other gracefully from her knee and hissing madly at her before dashing through the opened white patio door. With his magical eye following the kneazle all the way through the house he took a step towards her, sitting himself down rather clumsily and staring at her with his normal brown eye.
"At least you're quick to catch on...Few things. Here." Reaching into his coat he pulled out a small purple beaded bag and threw it at her despite their close proximity. Turning it over in her hands she eyed it suspiciously knowing that there had to be something more to the bag, him having no reason for randomly giving her a rather attractive bag as a present.
"What is this?" She asked, a little surprised at how heavy the small bag felt in her hands, but also slightly put off as he raised an eyebrow at her, his eyes twinkling with delight and amusement.
"I reckon it looks like a purse, but that's just me." He replied, looking thoroughly pleased with himself and leaving Hermione feeling utterly stupid, biting her lip as she turned it in her fingers, her eyes flicking up towards him. "Undetectable Extension Charm, and a couple of books inside, should come in handy for you." He continued, staring directly head of them as though their exchange was the most ordinary thing in the entire world. His words sinking in slowly, a spark of excitement igniting within her, at the thought of being able to actually keep a piece of magical equipment for herself, even more ecstatic that books had been hidden inside of it. She could not wait to begin reading through them and drinking in their knowledge, heavily anticipating their use in her supposed forthcoming adventures. "If Weasley asks, I said nothing." Mad-Eye said, almost as an afterthought, bringing a hurried silence over them, Hermione not really wanting to talk about him or even contemplate what he would do if he knew she was to be involved with any kind of frivolous or dangerous activities. She gave a small cough and cleared her throat, shuffling to try and make herself a little more comfortable, Hrontore coming to sit upon her head snugly, all the while staring in Mad-Eye's direction and snorting at various intervals.
"Right...So, it's time then? I can tell Mum and Dad...No...I can't can I?" She finished slowly, a sudden realisation dawning upon her as she looked into his stony face that seemed to be hiding a hint of sympathy, perhaps even guilt for not having made himself clear originally. Hermione's insides squeezed painfully, the thought of the possibility she would not be able to see her parents again horrifying her, making an instant decision there and then about Hrontore, in order to save them and keep them safe. "My parents can't know, not anything. Even if I'm only a small part of this operation, they know about me. They'll know about them." She nodded to herself, taking her hands to the small dragon and bringing it down in front of her face as it stared back at her, seemingly understanding exactly what she was thinking. No matter what happened, Hrontore could not come with her, could not protect her, she was needed to protect Hermione's parents where they and she could not.
"So you agree that something is to be done?" Mad-Eye said loudly, standing suddenly and stretching, pulling his wooden leg behind him and beginning to hobble towards the patio door, Hermione close at his heels.
"Yes...But-" She began, a little unsure even in herself as to what she was about to say, but knowing that there had to be something more for her to share, even as she stumbled and pulled the door shut behind them, Hrontore leaping from her and soaring out into the kitchen and out of sight.
"They'll be taken care of. Sent to Australia as Wendell and Monica Wilkins. They won't know you, won't recall having a daughter. Nothing." Hermione froze, her breath caught tightly in her chest. Technically, she would cease to exist, and hearing him speak only made those words even more real. With no parents, there was no Hermione, pushed from every world she had ever come to know. Stifling a sob, she stopped outside the door to her living room, her hand tightly upon the knob but also refusing Mad-Eye entry to the room, blocking it completely.
"Hrontore's going with them. She'll be of more use." She said quietly, not even daring to look up at him for fear that she would cry aloud. Her stomach fallen and her mind blank, she whispered quietly, "Can't I jus-" But was cut off, just as she knew she would be as Mad-Eye spoke, a rather uncomfortable hand placed upon one of her shoulders, the other folding over her other as she held tightly to the door.
"No." He said, almost kindly, a hint of sorrow in his voice as they gently turned the knob together, the moment she was dreading becoming ever more real as it swung open silently, both of her parents not noticing as they both entered. He drew his wand, Hermione temporarily closing her eyes as she would have at Hogwarts, not allowed to witness magic, but remembering that those rules no longer applied now that she had been cast from the walls of that ancient building. She fought the urgent gasp or sob as his arm extended towards the two obviously innocent people, whispering into the air, "Reproba Memoria."
Japan's Arc Angel x