Title: Ab Patrocinium, Amor
Author: Avelynn Tame
Pairing: D/Hr
Rating: PG-13 (subject to change)
Summary: In five years, they have not worked it out. Now the time has come for Hermione to reveal her secret, but will she survive long enough to make sure they understand?
Disclaimer: So many cutting comments, so little time and space. I'll stick to a brief, 'If you think I own Harry Potter or any of his little friends/enemies/parent-figures you must be on the run from people in white coats'. That do?
Author's Note: OK, I'm going to be completely honest with you - Hermione is my favourite character. Thus I love writing fics that will make her out to be a brilliant person. It's important that you understand this now, because what will follow is a blatant demonstration of that fact. The events that I write about are both unrealistic and silly, and would never happen. But this was an idea that wouldn't stop popping up in my head, and so I'm writing it. I actually have several chapters already written, but I'm posting this first one (and possibly the second) to gauge the general reaction and then make a judgement on whether or not I'll continue to post. Clear? Good-o. Oh, and one more thing - I'm a Brit, and am therefore liable to use a bunch of slang that might not be very clear. If that occurs, let me know and I'll see what I can do.
Chapter One
The Burrow, Harry knew, was one of the most protected family residences in the wizarding world, and with good reason - not many houses could claim to have the Boy Who Lived as an almost-lodger. He wished fervently that he was a lodger, but it was not to be. He had to be content with spending as much of his holidays there as possible. Dumbledore had assured him that the protection wards and devices operating in and around the Weasley family home were more than capable of keeping every Death Eater in the world out.
Which is why it came as something of a nasty shock, when, at precisely 8:03pm on August 5th, the door to the Burrow swung inwards, slamming against the wall with such a thud that every single Weasley and Harry - who were all in the kitchen, eating dinner - looked up in alarm. They didn't even have time to reach for their wands; fourteen Death Eaters in ominous, hooded black cloaks swarmed into the room. Ginny screamed; Harry's partially-digested dinner threatened to come back up again.
Mr Weasley, Bill and Charlie were on their feet, pulling their wands out, but it was no use - they were surrounded, and swiftly disarmed. Harry looked on in helpless desperation - this couldn't be happening, it couldn't, not here, not to the Weasleys.... He'd always expected the Death Eaters to come after himself, but never the Weasleys. Why was this happening? More importantly, he thought, watching as a figure who seemed to be the leader stepped forward, what was going to happen?
He thought fleetingly of Hermione - safe and sound, hundreds of miles away - because he knew what would happen to her if she was here. He remembered a cold, high voice; two words, avada kedavra, and had a sudden, sickening image of Hermione lying dead on the floor. A faint, surprising relief penetrated his senses when he looked up and remembered that she wasn't there. Of all the things to feel right now, he was feeling relief... it almost made him laugh. Almost.
Mr Weasley looked down at him, and tried to give a reassuring smile, but it came out as more of a grimace. His voice was thin and shaky when he said, "Everyone... s-stay calm... nothing to worry about. Molly... n-no need to cry..." Harry looked over and saw that tears were indeed streaming down Mrs Weasley's face. "N-Now, what's all this a-about, then...?" Arthur's question was directed at the Death Eaters, whose faces were still hidden by their hoods. They had said nothing at all - just surrounded the table, confiscated everyone's wands and stood there, intimidating the hell out of everyone.
Finally, one of them spoke; it was the one Harry had seen step forward only a few moments ago - he'd thought it was their leader, and now it seemed that he was right.
"You will all come with us," it said, in sepulchral tones.
Harry's heart started beating faster. This isn't happening, this isn't happening, this isn't happening.... Why wasn't he doing anything? He wanted to stand up, to say something, or do something, anything to fight off what was to come...
Just when he thought the whole situation was hopeless, that he'd just have to go with them and get whatever was waiting for them over with, he heard another voice...
"No, they bloody will not."
The wall of Death Eaters prevented him from seeing who had uttered the words, but he knew who it was. He knew because he heard that voice every day, from September to June, and then more in the summer holidays. That firm, unwavering, female voice with a pleasant kindness behind it.... As if by magic, the wall of Death Eaters broke apart, and he could see her...
Hermione Granger, eyes blazing, strode into the room, wand outstretched. She used it to draw a faint, silvery outline of the body of Death Eaters in the air, and hissed, "Electio!" Immediately the silvery outline snapped into place around the Death Eaters, framing them perfectly. A quick flick of her wand, and the muttered word, "Relego," and they vanished.
For a moment, they stared at each other - the Weasleys and Harry on one side of them room, breathing hard and trembling, and opposite, Hermione, who, far from disturbed, seemed to be checking them over for damage. "Are any of you hurt?" she asked, finally, her voice betraying nothing.
Mutely, Harry shook his head, unable to ask the questions he so much wanted to ask. He looked around - everyone else looked just as stunned as he did. He saw Mr Weasley opening his mouth to speak, but before he could, another voice drifted into the kitchen from the hall - another, familiar drawl. "Relego? Personally I prefer extermino; it tends to inflict more damage."
Draco Malfoy.
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OK, what are we thinking? I want honest opinions, from all of you. Compliments, flames, whatever.
The title means 'Through protection, love'. At least, I think it does - I have never studied Latin in my life, and am using an online dictionary to help me through it. Thus, reliability and accuracy is not guaranteed whatsoever.