This has been slightly toned down for admission on for the full version, see my site. (Majority of edits affect Chapter 4.)

Disclaimer: Not mine.

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"Never!" Hermione struggled against magical bonds.

"Don't you say 'never' to me. He will come for you, you will call him here to us. I know you can." The voice was deadly calm. Hermione turned her head to avoid those eyes, those awful eyes. Instead, she saw Nagini, that horrible snake, slithering about her feet. She shuddered involuntarily.

She knew she could call Harry and he would come. But it was her duty as a friend not to do that. The call system was both a blessing and a burden. For this particular moment, she chose to curse Ron and his bright ideas.

It was useless to continue arguing with Voldemort, he would not take 'no' as an answer, and the more she struggled, shouted, and spat, the more the barely visible ring of hooded Death Eaters laughed at her. So, she stood, held in the center of the ring by bonds stronger than she could ever hope to escape.

"Call him."

She shook her head.

"So be it. Crucio!"

The pain racked her body, she wanted to convulse and writhe on the floor, but the bonds prevented her. She was forced to remain standing as she screamed, tears burning down her cheeks. Then, as suddenly as it had taken hold, the curse released her.

"Call him."

She panted, unable to move just yet. As she regained control, she lifted her head. "No."

"Imperio!"

She felt her cares fly off her shoulders. No, she couldn't succumb to it. Harry had spent the seven years since they had graduated from Hogwarts preparing them, all of them, for situations like this. She grappled for control, but it slid away. In her head, a voice urged her, 'Call him.'

She could just call him. He would come and save her, he would tell the snake off. Perhaps he would even finally defeat the evil wizard. But no! Just as easily, he could come and be defeated. The Order had discussed this many times, he would have the fight on his terms. She couldn't call. She concentrated on that thought, pushing the voice out of her head. "NO!"

"How dare you!" The voice rose with anger as he stepped around in front of her. He raised his wand to curse her again, but a hooded figure rushed up to him.

"Excuse me, Master."

"What?"

The Death Eater spoke too quietly for Hermione to hear him, but Voldemort seemed very interested, perhaps even disturbed. He looked at Hermione again. "All right, mudblood. I will leave you to think about your answer. My Death Eaters will be aiding you in your thinking process. I shall return!" With that, he disapparated.

Well, that was strange. Hermione didn't have much time to ponder on it though, the circle was closing in around her, masked faces coming closer. No one said a word, they just closed in. Panic rose within her. What were they going to do?

She never found out. Just as they stopped walking, there was a crashing above their heads. A shower of shattered glass tinkled on the floor, immediately followed by a blur of brown and red. It crouched down just in front of Hermione on the floor. Ginny held still just long enough for Hermione to recognize her, then she was a blur of motion.

Her waist-length unruly red hair was thrown up in a sloppy bun and bits of it flew around her face as she spun into the Death Eaters' attack.

Like a flash, a leather clad leg soared through the air, bringing a stiletto heel into contact with one masked character's temple, sending him flying across the room. Wait, leather?

Then Hermione remembered. Ginny had been on an undercover mission as a muggle, drug dealing, she thought. That explained the tight leather pants and jacket, as well as the four inch stilettos, although, they only brought Ginny up to 5'6".

As the twenty-three-year-old whirled about, flinging Death Eaters every which way, she reminded Hermione of women in actions films. She had all of the moves; she had worked with Harry so hard on them. In the last six years, she had become an expert swordsman, a black belt in three forms of martial arts, and a very competitive boxer. In essence, at 5'2" and 100 lbs, she was unstoppable. Ginny made it all look ten times better than the women in the action films. They tended to be lean, lank, and overworked. Like gymnasts, they looked as though they spent their life training for their role.

What made Ginny different? Perhaps the fact that she actually had spent her life training for this. Unlike the emaciated and prematurely aged women of the muggle film world, Ginny wore her strength, well defined and solid, and retained the verve of a twenty-something through the very work that seemed to suck it from others.

The redhead made short, but temporary, work of the dozen or so Death Eaters in attendance. She ran over to Hermione. She did a cursory check of the brunette's condition, which was 'bound.' "'Mione, where's your wand? I haven't got mine, it's still at the house."

Hermione indicated a table across the room. "I think it's over there." Ginny sprinted over to it, sweeping the wand off the table, releasing Hermione's bonds from a distance, and indicating the door off to the side.

Hermione took a moment to rub her ankles, then set off for the door, massaging her wrists as she went. Ginny got there first and the brunette followed her back and forth through all manner of confusing hallways. Hermione's robe billowed behind her, her hair caught in the same draft that was pulling Ginny's unruly mop out of its bun.

The women broke into another large room, finding themselves surrounded by at least fifteen Death Eaters. "'Mione, catch!" Ginny tossed Hermione her wand as the attackers began to close in. Catching it, the robed woman immediately began flinging spells, taking out at least one Death Eater with each. Ginny was doing marvelously on her own. Hermione had never hoped to attain the younger woman's mastery of hand-to-hand combat, though she could protect herself reasonably if she was hard pressed. This was why Gin got the muggle assignments.

As soon as the last masked figure fell, the women set off again. They ran at full tilt, how Ginny managed it in stilettos, Hermione would never know. Finally, they saw an opening. The moment they cleared the building, they popped out of existence, apparating back to the Order Headquarters.