AN: Here's the first chapter! Sorry that it took a bit, life tends to get in the way. Many thanks (and brownies) to the fantabulous Glittergrrrl05! Who has graciously offered to Beta for me. Let me know what you think! :D


It had been a week.

She could still smell them burning, saw them mangled on the ground every time sleep claimed her. She didn't sleep much anymore.

Hermione sat huddled, shivering slightly with a ratty, worn-looking blanket wrapped tightly around her shoulders. Brown bushy curls tied tightly in a ponytail at the back of her head. Face paler than normal, dark bags under tired eyes. Sighing, she poked at the embers of a small fire with a stick. The tiny flames made the shadows of herself and her friend dance on the walls and sloped rock ceiling above them. Shuffling around quietly, she moved away trying not to make too much noise. Neville was still out cold.

She and Neville were hiding out in a dank, dark little cave in the wilderness. They had no idea where. Had been here for about two days now. Whether they were even still in Scotland, she didn't know. Or care, really. They were alive and that was all that mattered right then. Before they had found their little hide-out, they had just kept flying.

Hours upon hours of the wind in her face, eyes streaming tears from the constant gusts. At the mercy of the weather. Not entirely sure which direction she was going. They had kept going, though, as the sun came up and went down again. A full day. All the while, hoping she wouldn't fall off to her death. Her hands had gripped the handle, white-knuckling it. Wouldn't that be hilarious: after going through all the hell and blood, to meet her end escaping on a broom and falling to her death.

Hermione and Neville had taken it in shifts those first few days, staying in the air. When one got too tired to fly they landed quickly and traded places, letting the other sleep as best they could with a sticking charm glueing them to the back of the flyer. It had worked until the need for food had grounded them. But even though they had made it out of the castle, she was sure the Death Eaters had made note of their direction and were actively trying to find them. Hermione knew they had to keep moving, and soon.

The interior of the cave was mostly barren, just a natural curve of stone save for its occupants, two bed rolls, some blankets, and the broom that assured their get away. Hermione, the ever thoughtful one, still had much of what she had brought with her initially while on the run with Harry and Ron, all in that tiny little beaded bag. It was currently still stuck to the left hip of her jeans. The rain that was pounding outside the small opening to their cave had been coming down for hours. It had started earlier in the afternoon and they were well into night now. Their things were far enough back that there was little fear of the water reaching them but the dampness it produced just served to make her colder.

She made her way slowly, hand against the stone wall, closer to the mouth of their hideout. Pulling the drape of the Invisibility Cloak around her feet, hiding them from sight, she sat down just before the entrance. The tall trees surrounding their camp creaked softly. The sound of rain hitting leaves filled the air. Other than their small fire, there was no light to speak of as far as she could see. Just trees. There was no moon tonight, though rain clouds would have hidden it if there was. Settling against the wall of rock, a muffled groan made its way out of her mouth as she shifted. She was still entirely too sore to to doing much of anything, but that hardly mattered. Thankfully between the two of them, no bones had been broken, but spell damage, the nightmares, and running for your life made it hard to sleep. It was her turn to keep watch. Sure, they could have used perimeter charms to warn them of impending company, but she had argued a rather fine case for using magic as sparingly as possible. Magical signatures, after all, could be tracked. They needed to vanish, so emergency-only magic it was.

Generally trying to stay away from any city, Muggle or magical, the two Gryffindors kept to the trees and the wilds and lived off what they could kill and gather. Aquamenti charms for water. Hermione had never thanked her Mum more for tossing her in a Girl Scout troop as a kid than she had the last year. Before their cave, they had decided to try finding shelter in a Muggle town and hid in an abandoned house. It was the first and last time they had chanced that. They had been seen somehow by someone who knew their faces and had to make a break for it while waiting in line at a Muggle convenience store. That they were stealing the food and other items in the plastic basket was the least of their worries. Wizarding Britain was quickly falling to the Dark Lord, and his eyes were everywhere. It looked like Muggle Britain wouldn't be far behind.

Neville had learned quickly, later on that day after they managed to get away, the reason no one spoke Voldemort's name. They had been quickly planning their next move, finding their way out of the town, when he said the name. It triggered some sort of taboo tracking spell and the Snatchers had found them within seconds. The two of them had been hurrying down the sidewalk of what appeared to be the small towns' Downtown area. So many Muggles had died...

It took a few minutes of staring into the darkness in front of her before she realized the rain had stopped. She cast a glance back at the sleeping form of Neville. He was at the very back of the cave with their things. A large boulder blocked the view into the back of the cave. It really was the perfect cave to hide in. His chest rose and falling evenly, mousy brown hair falling over closed eyes. She stood gingerly and made her way out of the cave, deciding to have a look around. See how things were. When she got there, taking a deep breath she exhaled fondly. A miniscule smile gracing her features. She had always loved the smell after the rain. It was renewing, like everything had been washed away. Within the next moment she noticed she heard nothing she was expecting to hear. No birds, no insects. No small animals coming out from their hiding spots. It had just stopped raining in the woods at night. There should be noises all over. It was quiet.

Her eyes widened a fraction. Shit. Realizing what was wrong with the scene in front of her, she spun quickly and hurried back into the cave, mind whirling. Bad. Bad, this is bad. Yanking the cloak off she nearly threw herself on top of Neville, shaking him violently to wake him up.

"Get up, we have to go. Now," she hissed at him. She was still shaking him even has his eyes slowly opened and focused on her face. "Come on, I think we've been found." Her voice was hushed, but forceful. His eyes had shot open at her reveal. Her movements were fast paced as she was trying to fold blankets quickly as possible. Neville stood, helping to break up their tiny camp. Hermione tossed Neville the broom and threw dirt on the fire, plunging them into darkness. The faint sound of their breathing and blankets being shoved into a bag were all that could give them away now. Hermione grabbed the Invisibility cloak from where she had discarded it and covered them both.

"Should we try to get out of here?" Neville asked, his mouth extremely close to her ear. All she did was nod in response. He felt the cloak shift slightly as her head moved. Wands out, they slowly made their way to the mouth of the little cave, seeing nothing but dripping trees and damp grass. It smelt fresh and pure. Gauging their best options and taking the risk they inched out, careful to watch their footing lest they slip on the damp ground. Try as they might, both were leaving footprints behind, blatant evidence of where they were standing, cloak or not. Eyes wary and looking at everything they crept away from the cave and into the dense forest beyond. Still nothing. No sounds, barely the leaves rustled in the treetops overhead. Eerie. Yet, that sense of being watched, the small hairs standing on the back of their necks, the knowledge that unseen eyes were upon them. Neither had it.

Neville's brows were knit together. He was on edge now, waking up to a sudden adrenaline rush. Standing huddled close with Hermione as they moved along was something he had become accustomed too over the last week. He had no idea why she was so set on keeping him safe. He had so far assumed that he was the closest person to her when the retreat was called. They hadn't really had time to discuss anything. Between healing wounds, and running for their lives, there wasn't much time for catching up.

They made it to the small clearing they had originally landed in. It was big enough for them to take off amidst the both slid onto the broom as quickly as they could, making ready to take off, Neville behind her holding the cloak around them both. It almost looked practiced. The fact was, this was not the first time. The second she was going to take off seemed to be exactly what they were waiting for, and three spells shot towards them from different directions. One of them caught Hermione in the leg and it crumpled, not longer able to hold her weight. She let out a surprised gasp as they both toppled to the ground, Neville having taken one of the spells in the shoulder. He had been stunned. It felt like her leg was on fire, or was it being bitten by millions of tiny things; she couldn't decide which. Either way it was bugging the shit out of her and extremely itchy. Wand clenched in hand, she leapt from the small cover the cloak gave her, leaving the stunned Neville hidden beneath with the broom. She was casting in the general direction of their attackers. Hearing a loud yelp, she knew she had got one at least. Idiot, staying where you were after you fired. Her heart beat loudly in her chest. Eyes scanning the treeline around them, she stayed near Neville who was on the dirt ground just to her left.

When no new attacks were forthcoming, Hermione aimed a quick Ennervate at her unconscious friend. Neville's eyes fluttered open and he groaned as he bolted up to see his friend more or less circling him, eyes trained on the tree line, wand ready. He reached a hand to find his on the ground beside him. The wand he was using wasn't his; his had been lost at the battle. Well, not his, it had been his father's wand. Neville had agonized for hours in his mind about how much his Grandmother was going to kill him for it. Screw the Dark Lord, he was scared of Augusta Longbottom. But now was not the time, he had to quickly remind himself as beside him, Hermione began shooting off more spells. With the wand that was not his, he stood and began to help the girl beside him.

It was a fair fight now. Two of each. The Snatchers were obviously firing off stunners and other spells to subdue. Hermione took note. So, he wants us alive… While they were out in the open of a clearing, the men trying to get to them were somewhere in the trees. One down, two to go. Hermione and Neville were holding their ground. Both knowing that letting the Snatchers live, and just trying to escape, would bring down more on their heads. Their location - wherever the hell that was - would be compromised more than it already was. They had to get rid of these two men. It wasn't something Neville was entirely sure he was capable of, but the unspoken agreement between them was clear: these men could not get away, and thus from defensive to offensive fighting they turned.

Neville took a step forwards and feigned being injured. He collapsed to the ground, hoping this would give the impression Hermione was on her own in the battle and that it would lead the idiot Snatchers right to them, out from their hiding spots. So far none of Hermione's spells were hitting flesh targets. The trees and bushes were taking the brunt, as their assailants had learned from their comrade's mistake and moved as soon as they had a spell off. She stopped instantly when Neville went down and knelt beside him to tend his 'injury', playing along with the act he had started. As they both fussed over his leg, he had a tight grip on his wand, and even though their eyes were on his imaginary wound, ears were listening for anything, waiting for any noise to indicate where the enemy was.

After what seemed like half an hour but was probably only minutes, the two Snatchers came running at them from opposite directions. They would have to act fast to gain this victory. The way they were huddled, both of their backs were to an oncoming Snatcher. It came at a price, albeit a small one in the grand scheme, a bigger deal at the moment. Shouting the first thing that came to his mind - Diffindo! - Neville watched as the man behind Hermione made a gasping noise like he was trying to take in air. He had stopped running and was holding his throat, his eyes bloodshot and buggy wide. Time seemed to stop for Neville as he focused, horrified, on the fate he had caused this man. Then time caught up, and then the man's head popped off like a dandelion.

It seemed to immediately shock their other attacker, who had full view of the beheading. Having not really paid attention to where he was running, he tripped over a root that was sticking out of the ground and fell forward, arms flailing, and face planted into the mud. Instead of the loud squelching sound they had both expected, the unmistakable crack of a skull hitting rock reached their ears. He didn't get back up.

Hermione helped Neville up at this point and now they both stood blinking, their mouths open in stunned silence. Seconds later Neville broke it.

"Mione, did... did that just happen?" He ran his hand over his face. Eyes disbelieving, like he couldn't fathom in the slightest what had just occurred. His wand hung loosely in his hand at his side.

"I- I…" She exhaled quickly. "I don't think I would believe it otherwise Neville." She replied. Shock had been replaced with utter confusion, and then curiosity quickly followed. Flicking her wand at the muddy body, she flipped him over. The face that was revealed was well beyond broken, smashed inwards, unrecognizable. The Snatcher was obviously very dead, although Neville still performed some sort of health assessment spell after he was overturned. It was literally just this man's luck.

She started shaking her head at Neville, who went to search their bodies for anything useful. "Unless, you know a spell to reveal portkeys, we can't take the chance. That was pure luck. Leave them be; we have to go." Annoyed at not knowing such a spell herself, she was already on the broom and holding the cloak out to him.

"I'm taking their wands at least. Never know, right?" He lifted one shoulder up in a half shrug. He had already grabbed one. Quickly walking the 2 feet, he picked up the other. The one in the forest was very dead and farther off than was comfortable. More would be on them soon. He mounted the old school broom behind her, pulled the cloak over them, and they took off, once again invisible in the night sky.


Four days later found them hiding in an abandoned tree house. It was well built and mostly weather proof. Two windows had boards that acted as shutters, and the only way in or out was a rope ladder in a hole in the floor. They were still avoiding the use of magic. Neville had asked her many times just how did Muggles do this all the time. Having grown up pureblood this was an entirely new experience for him, on the run or not. The initial search of their new hideaway had turned up a few boxes of matches, three candles, and a compass - something for which Hermione was very grateful. The map they had stolen from the convenience store earlier was finally going to come in handy. She unfolded it immediately and began trying to figure out where they were.

They were in a forest near some tiny Muggle town called Killin, still in northern Scotland after all. If they kept to their tree house and stole food with the cloak as needed, they should be alright for a time. Both were willing to keep going, flying, running; the where to was still a firm away in their minds. But they had no real destination other than survival, which was how they arrived at the agreement to stay for a while, and why they had unpacked slightly in the wooden fort.

Hermione was making her way up the ratty old rope ladder. It looked on the verge of unraveling. As she pulled herself up through the opening, Neville grabbed her arm and helped her the rest of the way. Straightening up and brushing herself off, she smiled - not like she used to, but a sort of half smile as though someone had told a barely passable joke. With the Invisibility Cloak covering her from the shoulders down she was naught but a floating head. "Dinner's ready." She handed over a reusable grocery bag in an obviously good mood and said offhandedly, "If only Harry had some creativity, he could have done great things with this." She pulled the Invisibility Cloak off her and tossed it, leaving it where it landed in a pool of cloth on her bedroll.

He began rummaging through the bag of food and other things. "Oh you wonderful woman, you; you got toilet paper! And those candy worm things!" He exclaimed happily. She laughed quietly, shaking her head. Out of all her friends, Neville was the one who had always shown his appreciation for her.

"Pass me that can of stew and I'll get dinner going," Hermione asked with outstretched hand, having already pulled forward their small flame-fueled camp stove. Busy opening the can with a hand-held opener, she didn't notice the far-away look in Neville's eye.

He spoke quietly as though deep in thought. "What are we going to do…. It's been weeks and we haven't had word from anyone except the stinking Death Eaters and Snatchers coming for us," he lamented, sitting down roughly opposite Hermione. He looked at her. "Like, what about St. Mungos…. my parents…..Hermione, they're probably dead!" Finally, it seemed, he had reached his melting point. "Murdered, more than likely! After Snake-Face took Hogwarts from us, he must have expanded. We know he has…. And I know that bitch had it out for my parents." At his obvious referral to Bellatrix LeStrange, his sadness seemed to dissipate, anger taking its place as fast as she blinked. "They're dead; my Grandmother is dead. I actually killed someone! A person! That should bug me more, shouldn't it?! To top it all off, I'm running for my life with some girl I went to school with!"

He stopped and looked at her shocked at what had came out of his mouth. "I'm so sorry, I'm sorry, you know I didn't mean it like that…." He reached out and touched her arm.

She had watched him the entire time and now glanced down at the hand touching her as though it barely registered. Looking back up, her eyes had a slight hard quality to them. "You're not the only one who's lost everything, you know. Family, friends, a home… I've been on the run like this for months now. Months, Neville." She kept on with their dinner. "At this point my parents are pretty much dead to me. I'll never hear or see from them again. I watched the love of my life literally explode in front of my eyes. I've done... bad things... had to in order to survive. So I get that you're scared, and angry, and tired, and all you have is some bookish nobody to help you keep going; but could you please try to keep your voice down? We don't need everyone knowing where we are." Her tone of voice was forceful, but there was a hint of hurt in there.

He removed his hand, nodded, muttered an apology, and went back to rummaging through the bag of food she had stolen for them, body language sullen and contrite. "Thanks for saving my life. You just acted, you know. One second I thought I was gonna die for sure; I had no where to run when the retreat was called. Then the next, a cloak was over my head and you were there beside me, telling me to run." He sat back down beside her, having grabbed bowls and spoons for them. "I really do appreciate it. I'd be dead without you. I'm sorry Hermione; I didn't mean to let my anger get the best of me."

The girl in question had her face hidden mostly by her mass of frizzy curls. Her head was shaking back and forth slightly, hair swinging. Pouring the finished stew into their bowls, she looked up at him as she passed him his bowl. "Never can stay angry though, can you Neville?" She smiled at him. It was somber and tired, but still a happy smile. "Too much good in you. One of your best qualities I'd say. You're always polite, and caring, and thinking of others. I'm glad I saved you, too." She touched his shoulder, giving him a reassuring smile. "Now, let's eat this before it gets cold."

Hours later Hermione had gone to sleep and Neville had taken first watch. The two companions had gotten used to the odd sleeping arrangement. But the few hours alone, even with her sleeping right there, unnerved him. He wasn't scared of the dark anymore, hadn't been in years; but the eerie sounds of the tree they occupied, the creaking, the hardly audible sound of scurrying creatures in the underbrush was enough to have him on edge. He'd seen too much. Heard too much. Hell, he knew way more than he felt was good for him.

The sword of Gryffindor lay across his lap and he had a wand in each pocket. He looked ready. Sure as hell didn't feel ready. It seemed courage only came to him in his time of need. He was hardly a little boy anymore but he still didn't like being alone, especially with the way his thoughts kept circling his parents' bodies on the cold hospital floor; up in flames, just like Hogwarts. His mind supplied the very real Harry dead on the ground; all those bodies dead or dying; Luna…. Each time his mind strayed to her he shook his head in order to clear it, refusing to dwell on thoughts of her. Not knowing what had happened to her was worse than knowing right now.

The single candle flickering in their tree house was the only light he had to see by. His eyes looked over the sleeping Hermione. Some girl...Ha! He shook his head again. That girl was currently everything to him: smart, resourceful, wicked with a wand. She was anything but some girl. The flickering light the candle's flame seemed to caress Hermione's face. Her smooth cheeks were dirty from weeks without a proper bath. She had a small nose, a light dusting of freckles, kissable lips….. Neville's eyes shot wide and he instantly looked away from her, at anything else but her. Cabin fever, definitely. He had been alone with just her for too long.

He began looking through one of the books Hermione had brought with them. Might as well brush up on some offensive spells. He didn't want what happened at the cave to happen again. As good as the fortune was they'd had since then, the image of that man's head just simply popping off…. It made him shiver, it was so surreal to him. He was startled out of his musings when Hermione let out a tiny yelp of pain.

She bolted upright in her bedroll, blankets around her waist, her hand reaching for a chain tucked inside her shirt, and then she held it in front of her face. Dangling from the chain was her old DA coin. She had kept it as a memento of that time: their rebellion. Easier times, she could say. The usually normal-looking Galleon had writing on it as it had when she used to send out their meeting times. Someone who had another of these coins, who knew what they were for and was smart enough, had reversed the charm or altered it somehow and now there was a message waiting on it for her instead.

'We're with the Faeries, come find us on Island Island'

Hermione read the message a second and then a third time. All the while Neville looked at her questioningly. The smile on her face grew each time she read it.

"Isn't that one of the old DA Galleons?" He finally asked, letting her have her moment.

"Sentimental; I would have kept it, but I lost mine…" He eyed her, waiting for an answer, for anything. She just kept staring at the coin she held by its chain before her face.

"Yes, yes it is. We just got a message, too." She passed him the coin, letting him see for himself.

"Island Island?" He looked at her, confused. "I've never heard of such a place. Have you been there? Who is this from, anyway? Could this be a trap?" Millions of other questions filled his head, but those seemed like the important ones.

Smile still in place she explained, "There are probably many out there who could figure out how to reverse the Galleon and send us messages; it wasn't complicated to make." She said it in an offhand way; that bit of magic was nothing compared to what she could do now. "But the mention of the Faeries and Island Island - that is from a favorite book of mine: a Muggle book, not something your garden variety bad guy has read. Also, there is only one person who could know about it enough to use it for messages. I lent the book to her last year."

The smile on her face seemed permanent. She was watching him inspect the coin.

"Who is it from then? Island Island…" He chuckled to himself and handed the necklace back.

"It's from Luna. Thank you god." She muttered the last part.

He could see why she was smiling so much right now. It wasn't just anyone - no, a friend was out there. The grin had spread to his face too. His head spinning, all he could think for a moment was She's alive! She's alive! But the burning question was beating its way forward to the forefront of his mind. "But where is this place? You said it was from a book; does it even exist?"

She was nodding as she poked her wand at the coin. It was the first magic either of them had used since they found the tree house, and Snatchers would have their scent and be on their way within the next few hours.

"Island Island is a very real place. It was very clever of Luna to use that as a message….. I'll have to compliment her for that…" She trailed off and centered herself in her thoughts. When Neville poked her in the arm she focused her brown eyes on him again. "Sorry, got a bit carried away with planning. As I was saying, it's a very real place and after you get some rest we'll be on our way from this cosy little piece of spider-ridden hell."

"But, where is it?" He asked again, and once again she gave him a happy smile. This time it seemed like she was teasing him.

"Ireland."