A/N: I haven't done a fanfiction in a really long time, because I've been swamped with graudate school, theatre, work, and all kinds of stuff that generally takes up a lot of time and money. However, I've realized that fanfiction really keeps me sane and grounded and I really miss writing it, so here I am again, your humble servant.

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters. I just came up with the plot today on my lunch break.

Chapter One: Cowardice and Protection

"Harry, you're being absolutely ridiculous!" Hermione's voice was a shrill pinch on Harry's nerves. "You cannot drop out of school."

Ron was watching from his bed on the other side of the room, looking sullen. Harry, who had long decided against shouting at Hermione, was seated at a desk with his back to them both, scribbling away at a letter that was approaching two rolls of parchment. He had been working it for at least two weeks, hiding it away in different places every night and adding to it when everyone else was out of the house. This had been the only time Ron had ever caught him writing.

"I'm not discussing this with you anymore, Hermione," Harry replied. "My mind is made up. You don't want to go with me, then you don't have to."

Hermione spluttered angrily, but her eyes were sad. "Of course I can't go with you. You can't go either. This final year is about our futures. Our scores on our NEWTs will determine our careers."

Harry paused in his writing. "And if I don't find the Horcruxes and kill Voldemort, our futures will matter even less. Good test scores won't keep you alive."

"We can all go after this year is over!"

"And how many people will be dead before this year is over?" Harry asked, finally turning around. "How many more wizards, witches, and Muggles are going to have to die before I decide to take action? It has to be me, Hermione, and I'm not going to let anyone else die for me."

"If this is about Sirius –"

Harry stood from his desk, dropping the quill on it, careful to avoid the parchment. "This is about Sirius, and Dumbledore, and Cedric. All those people died because of me. What Voldemort wants is me. And he can have me, once I take down all the Horcruxes. And if I can, I'm going to take him with me."

"Harry, he will kill you," Hermione pleaded.

"Then come with me," Harry said. "Help me."

"I can't do that, Harry. I will not support your cavalier attempt at suicide. Come back to school with us, please!"

"With you," said the voice from the bed. Harry and Hermione turned to Ron, who was in the same position as before.

"What?" Hermione asked, ice slipping into her tone.

"I'm not going back either," Ron said firmly. "If Harry's not going back, neither am I."

"Thank you, Ron," Harry replied, a small smile on his face.

"Thank you, Ron?" Hermione's voice was becoming shrill again, "Thank you, Ron?!" Her face flushed dark red. "You are not going, Ronald. You are going back to school," Her voice as approaching Mrs. Weasley's disapproving wail.

"No, I'm not."

Hermione looked like she was about to explode. "I swear to Merlin, Ronald, you will either change your mind, or I will go tell your mother right now. And you!" She turned to Harry. "What would Ginny say if she knew?"

"Ginny would want to go with him," Ron answered for Harry, who looked pale. "She's not a coward."

Hermione let out a groan of exasperation. "I'm not a coward, Ronald, I'm being practical! I don't want you to die."

"This is a war, Hermione, people die," Ron answered, his voice quiet.

"But not the Boy Who Lived! But you are not Harry, Ron. You aren't the Boy Who Lived!" Hermione was pleading with him now, her hands on his face.

Ron scowled and pushed her away. "I know I'm not the famous Harry Potter, Hermione. How could I ever forget, with people like you shoving it in my face all the time?" Hermione stepped away from him. Ron looked furious. "I understand that Harry's famous, and you're the brightest witch of our age, but I won't let my friend fight a war all on his own. I don't need you throwing your brains and Harry's fame in my face –,"

Hermione looked stricken. "I'm not throwing it in your face, Ron, I'm just –,"

"We'll talk about this in the morning," Harry said, pulling Hermione away from Ron. "I think we all need to sleep on this."

Hermione wrenched her arm away from him and shoved her way into the hall. Harry followed her. "If he dies, I will never forgive you," she whispered fiercely at Harry.

Harry took a step back. "Hermione, that's –,"

"Get away from me, Harry," she pushed past him to her own room and slammed the door.

Hours later, when the whole house was asleep, Harry could still hear the transfigured birds Hermione always created when she was upset chirping in her room. He shook his head, feeling guiltier than he ever had before, and crept past her room, Ron close behind him. He had hoped Hermione would decide to go with them to hunt the Horcruxes; she was the smartest of them all and would prove useful. On some level, she was right; it would be safer to get more training at Hogwarts during their seventh year. But the idea of returning to the once safe castle while everyone else fought in a war over him made Harry nauseated.

He would not let anyone else die for him.

The next morning, Hermione was woken by Mrs. Weasley's shriek. She didn't have to get out of bed to know that Harry and Ron were gone. She pushed her anger and grief back and left her room, following the sounds of Ginny and Molly Weasley. They were standing in Harry and Ron's room, empty of trunks and clothes. Mrs. Weasley was sitting on Ron's bed. Ginny threw her arms around Hermione the second she saw her, tears making her freckled face look positively red and splotchy. Mrs. Weasley's eyes and mouth tightened.

"Did you know about this?" Mrs. Weasley asked, a note in her hand. A fist clenched around Hermione's stomach.

"I tried to stop them, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione said quickly. "I begged them not to go. I had no idea they were going to sneak out." In retrospect, she thought, she should have known. Harry and Ron never willingly backed away from a fight.

"You've been their friends for seven years and you didn't know they were going to sneak out?!" Mrs. Weasley screeched angrily. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Tears sprang to Hermione's eyes. "I didn't – I didn't know…"

"You're the smartest witch of your age, Hermione Granger, how could you not know?!"

Hermione didn't even bother answering, anything she said would be wrong. She released a breath through her nose and let Mrs. Weasley yell, rage, and cry. When the decibel level had finally decreased, she looked up at her surrogate mother that she loved so much. "I think it's time for me to go," Hermione said.

"What?"

But Hermione was already walking away, back to her room. She waved her wand and her belongings flew carefully into her trunk, her clothes folding and her books organizing themselves. She places a Disillusionment charm on the trunk and grabbed her cloak. In the hallway, she slammed into Ginny Weasley.

"You can't go," she said tearfully. "Mom's just upset, that's all, she'll be okay."

"Every time she looks at me, she's going to remember that I let them go. She's going to remember that it's my fault that her sons might never come home," Hermione shook her head. "I have to go."

"Hermione?" Ginny asked as Hermione turned to walk away. "Why didn't you go with them?"

Hermione gave Ginny a small shrug. "I guess I'm a coward."

As Hermione was walking to the front door, Lupin passed her an envelope. She opened her mouth to ask, but he shook his head and put a finger to his lips. He kissed her forehead, squeezed her shoulder lightly, and nodded toward the door. His hair was still graying, but he gave her the most encouraging smile she had seen in a long time. His eyes told her that he knew she wasn't a coward. He knew what she was dealing with; after all, he had been friends with James and Sirius, and they had one day left and never come back. She blinked away her tears and walked out into the dim light of morning.

"Welcome back again, Mr. Malfoy," the desk clerk didn't even look up from his paperwork. Draco Malfoy didn't respond. His robes whispered soft incantations over the marble floor of the Ministry of Magic, but he didn't have time to listen to them. He turned left, right, and right again to the lift, which took him immediately to his floor.

"You're late."

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Well, I really didn't want to come, so…"

The voice growled in impatience. "Did you or did you not understand our arrangement?"

"I understand eight languages, one of them English, so yes, I understand the arrangement. The problem with the arrangement is that you are completely overestimating my supposed love I apparently have for my father. So, if I don't want to show up, I'm not."

"The arrangement that was procured for you was that you show up and your father does not get transferred to Azkaban," Snape said icily. "If you could think beyond yourself, you would know that your father being moved to Azkaban could result in your own isolation from the Wizarding community, along with your mother. Also, you seem to have forgotten that because he has not appeared, most of the other captured Death Eaters have since decided that Lucius must be a traitor. If he makes it to Azkaban, he will die there."

"He can die wherever he likes, I'm not particular as to the location. As for being isolated, that's what opulent wealth is for. I can buy friends. So, I reiterate. I show up when I want."

Severus Snape narrowed his eyes at Draco. "Someone is going to have to teach you obedience."

"Don't bother, my father tried for seventeen years, and I'm not sure it ever really sunk in," Malfoy shrugged. "I told you I would help your stupid Order. I told you I would put my very precious life in danger to help people stay alive. I did not agree to a time table."

A table appeared the middle of the dark room and Snape on a chair beside it. Another chair clunked to the ground. "Sit," Snape commanded.

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "I don't feel like it."

Snape pursed his lips and flicked his wand. Malfoy's legs wobbled and unsteadily carried him to the chair. He fell into it roughly.

"You have naively agreed to be the next me," Snape said quietly. "Now, shut up and listen, Draco. You have much to learn."

"Like how to hide in Dumbledore's pocket for years on end while I pretend to be close to the Dark Lord?" Malfoy sneered. "Doesn't sound that hard."

Snape smirked. "You think so, do you?" Another flick of his wand and a bowl appeared in the middle of the table, full of shimmering silver liquid. "Then go down the rabbit hole, Mr. Malfoy, let's see how much you care to watch."

"We should have brought Hermione," Ron said for the umpteenth time. Harry sighed and shook his head while Ron prattled on. "She was just trying to keep us safe and she's the smarted witch we know, Harry. She could have really helped us."

"Then go get her," Harry said shortly.

Ron shook his head. "She'd never go with us now. Not after we left her." He paused. "We never should have left her, Harry."

"Is that because she can save our skin or because you're in love with her?" Harry asked quickly. Ron choked on his next sentence and coughed roughly.

"I'm not in love with her, Harry, Merlin. I'm just saying. She's been our friend for years."

"And you've been in love with her for years," Harry insisted. "I'm not going to make fun of you, Ron," he added when Ron's face turned a splotchy red. "It's just…obvious."

Ron paused for a long time. "How obvious?" He asked quietly.

Harry smiled. "Incredibly obvious."

They were walking in a forest outside of Albania, looking for the Horcrux Dumbledore had written about in his journal. Harry had no idea where to start, and Ron wasn't sure how to do a spell to locate any magical activity, so they had been wandering through the cold and dry wilderness for close to three hours.

"We should have gone somewhere warmer," Ron complained.

"Sure, change the subject, that'll work," Harry smirked.

Ron ignored him. "We should camp here for tonight," he said confidently.

Harry chuckled. "Fine. Let's put up some protective spells."

Ron narrowed his eyes and stared at Harry. Harry stared at Ron.

"Well," Harry said. "Get to it."

"You get to it."

"You don't know any, do you?

Ron quirked his lips. "I have an idea," he said, rummaging through is moleskin bag. The loud rattling shook birds out of the trees.

"Well, could you have ideas a bit quieter?" Harry asked. "I don't want to be found."

Ron ignored him and yanked a heavy book out of his bag, full of little pages of paper sticking out of the sides with familiar writing on it.

"Is that Hermione's Standard Book of Spells, Year 7?" Harry asked incredulously. "You stole her book?"

Ron shrugged. "She's had it for like three years. I figured she wouldn't miss it. Besides, I think we need it more than she does, don't you?"

A loud crack from their left made Harry and Ron jump. "Yeah let's talk about this later," Harry said. "Just find some protective spells, okay?"

A/N: I want some comedic and dramatic moments in each chapter, but it will become much more dramatic as the fic continues.