Chapter 2: Deadly Weapons

Harry hadn't taken the news that well, but with Sirius and Hermione there to calm him down - more Sirius, to be honest, Hermione's hug had come after a bit of hesitation, and she seemed to be rather more awkward at comforting him than usual - he hadn't blown his top and listened to the Headmaster's justifications for keeping this from him. Listening to Sirius ranting at the Headmaster for keeping the prophecy from Harry and himself had helped too, so he hadn't needed a calming draught from Pomfrey, who had taken her time to check both of them out, and had almost reluctantly given the two a clean bill of health. She had wanted to keep them in the infirmary anyway, but Hermione had glared at the Matron, who had caved. The fact that Hermione had been covered by so much blood, none of it hers, until Pomfrey had scourgified it, probably had been responsible for that. Not that Harry would complain - he was happy to be out of the infirmary. Unlike Neville and Ron, who had both been asleep there already, their wounds healed - or treated, in Neville's case - and a calming draught ingested.

He and Hermione were now in an unused classroom on the second floor, Hermione having deemed their dorms unsafe for the moment. It was almost morning now, Sirius had returned to his home some time ago, and Harry felt quite tired. He couldn't sleep though. Not without finding out what was wr… what had happened to Hermione.

The girl pulled out two sleeping bags from her enchanted bag, followed by two inflatable mattresses. When she started to inflate the mattresses, Harry suddenly realized he couldn't remember seeing her casting a spell since he had pushed that button.

"Hermione…"

"Yes?" She stopped and looked at him.

"What happened to you? Can you still cast spells?" He wasn't quite holding his breath, but he came close. If she could not work magic anymore, wouldn't she be banned from Hogwarts, from the Wizarding World, from his life?

Hermione looked at him, her expression not changing, then she put the mattress away and shifted into a cross-legged position. "According to the letter from my parents I found in my bag, I have been … trained one could call it … as a sleeper agent while I was still child, with a set of spy skills I can access once I use an optical trigger. Code name Spygirl." She pulled out a few more of those boxes and showed them to him. "They are using a chemical reaction for the flashes, not electricity, so they can only be used once each." she explained, and Harry felt a hint of his friend's normal personality shine through. Or he was imagining it - Hermione was still lacking the enthusiasm she typically had when dispensing knowledge.

"As Spygirl I still possess all the skills I learned normally, including magic, but my Spygirl training seems to override them, in both combat and non-combat situations."

Harry stared at her. "As Spygirl I have the urge to do things without magic." Ah!

"Can you, you know, change back?" This time he did hold his breath. Spygirl might have saved his life, but she wasn't Hermione. She didn't talk, didn't hug, didn't even move like his best friend. She moved much more smoothly, more gracefully. More dangerously.

"Yes, I can. One we are out of danger I will fade back and let the original personality take over. In an emergency the optical trigger can be used to put Spygirl to sleep again." Harry reached out for one of the boxes, and felt his wrist caught in her hand. "I would not recommend this. I will likely be in shock from the events, and unable to defend you."

He met her eyes. "We're safe here. I need to talk to Hermione."

Harry had to cast all locking charms and similar spells on the door and window though, until Spygirl finally felt secure enough to go to sleep.

He saw Hermione blink, saw her shiver, then shudder, her mouth opening, but no words forming. She started to pant, then retch, and then she was vomiting on the floor while he tried to hold her hair back. Not that she noticed. Once she had finished spitting out bile she sobbed and grabbed him in a hug that threatened to break his ribs, despite her whole body shaking, and cried into his neck while he patted her back and hugged her back.

Harry didn't know how much time passed while the two remained like that, but finally Hermione released him, allowing him to breathe normally again, and started to speak - babble even. A torrent of words and jumbled sentences, rushed bits jumping from one part of the fight to the next, then back again. Harry managed to understand that Hermione had been aware of all that was happening, remembered everything, but hadn't been able to do or say anything while her body moved under Spygirl's control.

"And now she is in my head, lurking in my mind… ready to take over again and kill." Suddenly she stiffened, and he eyes seemed to lose their focus. "When it's needed? Killing shouldn't be needed!" "We could have stunned them!" "Yes, we could have." "You don't know that!" Harry realized that she was talking to Spygirl - and apparently losing the argument, judging by her mulish expression. He felt relieved at seeing her react and look relatively normal, even if she was talking to a voice in her head. Hermione was back.

He hugged her again, pulling her trembling body into his arms, and rubbed her back until she had calmed down. "Let's sleep. We need it." And Hermione really needed a scourgify. Harry too, after hugging her.

Hermione nodded, then took her wand and transfigured the sleeping bags into a passable bed, and after a cleaning spell their clothes into pajamas. Harry was about to question the single bed when he noticed how haunted she looked. She fell asleep with a death grip on him.

When Harry woke up it was afternoon, judging by the shadows of the sun. His left arm had fallen asleep and was tingling - Hermione was lying on it, head resting on his chest, one arm wrapped around his neck and one leg crossed over his. She looked peaceful while sleeping, only the sweat-soaked hair and pajamas hinting at the nightmares that had shaken her and woken him during the, well, not night, but day. Not that he hadn't had some nightmares himself featuring Death Eaters dieing in very bloody ways - much bloodier than they had died in reality.

Harry sighed and closed his eyes. He didn't want to face the school, or the other students. But leaving his friends to face the Hogwarts rumor mill alone wasn't something he wanted to do either. And he was hungry. But the sight of Hermione sleeping - he couldn't disturb that peace. Not now.

After a while, Hermione stirred, then opened her eyes. "Harry?"

"Morning."

Hermione blinked, then slowly got up, freeing his arm. A slight blush on her cheeks was her only visible reaction to their position. "We've slept in. We must have missed all lessons today."

"I think we have a medical excuse. But we might want a snack before dinner - we missed both breakfast and lunch." Harry was sure he was blushing a bit as well, but he was following Hermione's lead.

"And the others might be worried if we hide for much longer."

"We were not hiding. We were resting." Hermione sounded prim, but with a hint of humor behind it. Then her stomach growled, and she blushed a bit more. "I guess we should eat something."

She stood up, in a fluid, graceful motion. Harry blinked - he wasn't sure if this was normal for his best friend, or some effect of her being Spygirl. Not that he had seen her get up from a bed before, of course, so maybe it was normal. He didn't want to ask, but decided to pay more attention to how Hermione moved.

After a few cleaning charms the two undid the spells on the bed, and gathered the sleeping bags and inflatable mattresses, which went back into Hermione's mokeskin bag. She didn't show any special grace there, but she must have noticed him watching him. "Did I miss a spot with my charm?"

"No, no. Just lost in thought I guess."

"Oh, Ok." Hermione nodded, then suddenly stopped, frowning without saying a word. Talking to Spygirl, Harry realized. After a minute, she put her pistol in a holster on her hip, Cutting an opening into her robe so she could easily reach the gun. He didn't ask, but again she noticed him staring. "It's safer this way."

"For us."

"Yes."

They cleaned up the room in silence after that, and then went off towards the kitchen.

A snack the size of a meal later, the two were on their way to the infirmary, to check up on Ron and Neville. Hermione was definitely moving differently, Harry concluded. He couldn't pin down how exactly, but it was different. She was more… his thoughts were interrupted by a hated voice.

"Potter! You and your mudblood killed my father!"

Harry spun around and saw Draco Malfoy run towards him, wand out, a furious expression on his face as he slung a spell at the couple. Behind him Goyle and Crabbe were following the Slytherin. Harry threw himself to the side, avoiding whatever spell - he didn't manage to identify it - the blond had cast, and drew his own wand, a protego on his lips.

Before he could cast though Hermione, who rolled to the other side, started shooting. Her first shot hit Draco right between the eyes, the second hit his throat when his head was thrown back and his wand went flying. For a moment Harry was back in the Ministry, seeing Lucius Malfoy and the other Death Eaters die. Hermione had shot twice more before Draco's body and his wand had reached the floor, killing Crabbe and Goyle.

Harry felt like retching, but managed to control himself. Hermione - Spygirl - kept her gun ready, and checked the bodies lying in slowly spreading pools of blood. "Clear."

Footsteps made both turn around, wand and gun ready. Snape ran around the corner, then froze when he stared into the barrel of Hermione's pistol, gaping at the scene in front of him. "What have you done?"

"Killed three attackers." Neither voice nor gun wavered. Before Snape could do respond Dumbledore arrived, followed by McGonagall. The witch gasped at the sight, obviously shocked, while Dumbledore sighed.

"Are they dead?" The Headmaster sounded like he knew already.

"Yes."

Snape, probably gaining courage from the arrival of his two superiors, turned towards Dumbledore. "She killed them! She killed three of my students!"

"They attacked us with deadly weapons. Based on Draco Malfoys words this attack was in response to the death of his father."

"Miss Granger! What have you done?" McGonagall started, but Dumbledore's raised hand stopped her even as Hermione - Spygirl - answered "I defended Harry and myself."

"Minerva, we'll continue this in my office. For now, let's move the bodies to the infirmary." With a look at Snape, he added. "Severus, put your wand away. There has been enough death already. I do not wish to see anyone else die."

"I wasn't about to kill her, Headmaster." the potions teacher snarled.

"I know."

Snape was trembling with barely suppressed rage in Dumbledore's office. Harry had never seen the man so tense. McGonagall was staring at Hermione - Spygirl - as if she had never seen her before, wand in hand but carefully not pointing it at the girl and Dumbledore was looking resigned and weary. Hermione was not showing any expression.

"She killed three students in cold blood, Albus!" Snape exploded. "She's a danger to the school! You need to deal with her before she murders every Slytherin student!"

"Miss Granger wouldn't do that!" McGonagall exclaimed, but it sounded a bit weak to Harry. When Snape sneered and tried to dismiss her claims she quickly rallied though, and soon both were loudly arguing with each other, and all but shouting at Dumbledore.

The Headmaster didn't seem to listen to either of them. Instead he was staring at Hermione, who was meeting his eyes. When McGonagall and Snape realized they were being ignored and fell silent, Dumbledore finally spoke up.

"I should have foreseen this." He sounded sad and old.

Hermione nodded "Yes, Sir, you should have." She briefly glanced at Snape. "How did Draco find out about what happened in the Ministry?"

Dumbledore sighed. "The Daily Prophet printed a quite extensive if not too accurate description of the events of last night." Hermione nodded, and Harry had the impression she had expected that.

Snape was about to say something, but once again the Headmaster stopped him by raising his hand. "It was my responsibility, Severus. I knew how Miss Granger would react to being threatened with a deadly weapon, and I failed to take precautions to ensure that young Draco would not encounter Harry and Miss Granger."

"A deadly weapon?" Snape asked incredulously.

"His wand." Hermione answered, neither face nor voice showing any emotion.

"Are you out of your mind? Will you kill anyone waving his wand at you?"

"I'll kill anyone who threatens me or Harry." Hermione turned her head and stared at Snape, who was gaping at her. "I will protect him at all costs." She turned her attention back to the headmaster. "While the death of three Death Eater recruits is a positive outcome, killing more Slytherins might cause too many political difficulties. Since letting them roam the halls while armed would put Harry at risk, he and I and possibly every other student who was involved in the fight at the Ministry need to leave Hogwarts now."

Snape started his usual diatribe about "Potter's arrogance" but Harry tuned him out. Hermione would kill for him, just like that? Was that because he was the key to defeat Voldemort, or was there something else? She glanced at him, and for an instant a tiny smile appeared on her face, before she turned back to the ranting potion master.

"Do you wish Voldemort to win?"

"What?"

"Harry is the key to defeating Voldemort. Only a dunderhead would not understand that his safety takes precedence over the lives of anyone else who threatens him. A dunderhead, or a traitor. Are you a traitor, Sir, or a dunderhead?"

"I trust Severus, Miss Granger. He is no traitor."

Hermione nodded at the Headmaster, and Harry had to fight not to laugh at Snape's expression of outrage. McGonagall seemed too shocked hearing that her prize student was calmly discussing the killing of students to partake in the discussion.

"I will explain to the DMLE that you were attacked by Draco Malfoy and his friends, with deadly intent, and had to defend yourself. Given the current political climate, I do not expect the DMLE to charge you, though it might be best if they assumed Harry defended himself and his friend." Dumbledore rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"I assume we will be moving to Grimmauld Place 12 then, Headmaster."

Dumbledore shook his head at her. "Not right now. In order to keep Harry as safe as possible, he'll need to return to Privet Drive." He held up a hand when Hermione narrowed her eyes. "He needs to spend a few weeks there to strengthen the blood charms his mother's sacrifice allowed me to cast."

"What?" Harry exclaimed, standing up and facing the Headmaster. "What blood charms are you talking about?"

Dumbledore sighed, and started to explain.

Two hours after the Headmaster had finished explaining Harry and Hermione were standing before Number 4, Privet Drive. The explanation hadn't made any sense - a protection born of love strengthened by the hatred of his family? - but the Headmaster had been very insistent, so Harry had given in, but only after Hermione had made it clear that she'd come with him. Dumbledore had tried to make her promise she'd not hurt the Dursleys, but she had flat out told him that the Dursleys would be treated like everyone else should they become a threat. She hadn't sounded entirely emotionless when she said that, a fact Harry attributed to the details of his home life he had let slip during Dumbledore's explanation. It had made him feel good to see her reaction.

They had eaten a meal in the kitchen of the school, met with Ron, Neville, Luna and Ginny and explained why they were leaving, before Dumbledore had portkeyed them to Little Whining. The Headmaster had not wanted to come to the house himself. Harry hadn't asked why - he was too focused on the upcoming confrontation. Part of him was wishing Vernon would try something, anything, to appear as a threat, and he wasn't sure if he should feel bad about that.

Both were wearing normal clothes, and while Harry felt bad in his Dudley's old clothes, Hermione looked very good in jeans and jumper, at least he thought so. He rang the doorbell several times, until his aunt opened the door. The woman promptly started to rant at him for being early and ringing up a storm, but Hermione pushed past her with enough force to slam the woman into the wall when she tried to close the door in their faces. Harry followed his friend inside, chuckling.

They found the two male Dursley's eating dinner. Vernon jumped up from his chair, and exploded. "Boy! What is the…" The fat man shut up at once when he realized he was staring into the muzzle of Hermione's pistol.

"Shut up, Dursley." Hermione started to talk in a cold, controlled voice. "We will be sleeping in Harry's room for the next few weeks. Your family will not bother either of us, will not talk to or about us, nor try anything to hinder us coming and going as we please, or I will shoot you and work some magic to make everyone believe you were a child molester." She smashed her pistol's barrel into Vernon's mouth, splintering his front teeth. "Do you understand?" She repeated both the question and the strike twice before the man stopped howling and nodded weakly, blood dripping from his smashed mouth. "Good. Remember - not one word to anyone about us being here. We will know, and your family will be ruined."

Glaring at the trembling Dudley the girl turned around and went upstairs, once again pushing Petunia into the next wall hard enough to rattle the pictures on it. Harry followed, laughing. He should feel bad, he thought, seeing his family brutalized and threatened, but he only felt satisfaction to see them get part of their just desserts.

In his - their now - room Hermione started to unpack her camping supplies while they waited for the owl confirming that Dumbledore had managed to lift the trace on both their wands.

"That was great, Hermione!"

"Do you think they'll heed the warning?" Hermione looked up from assembling a folding chair.

"They should. They fear magic almost more than being outed as the monsters they are."

"Good. We can't afford threats that close to us." Hermione pulled out a plastic blanket out of her mokeskin bag, followed by a rifle and a smaller gun with long magazine. When she noticed him staring at the guns she pointed to the rifle. "That's an L42A1, standard sniper rifle of the British Army." She blinked. "Or it was when I was born. My information might be out of date." She pointed a the other gun. "That's a Heckler and Koch MP-5 submachine gun."

"How illegal are those guns?"

"Very."

Whatever Harry had wanted to say died on his lips when Hermione pulled her jumper off, leaving her in a thin white tank top, and started to clean her pistol, followed by the two other guns while kneeling on the blanket. Those school robes and the dresses she had worn when visiting the Weasleys had hid a lot. Hermione worked quickly and efficiently, and soon had all three weapons reassembled and reloaded. Then she stretched, and Harry froze again, trying not to stare too overtly. Judging from the tiny smile sent his way she had noticed.

Fortunately that was when a brown and a spotted owl arrived, tapping against the window. Harry jumped up at the distraction and let the animals inside. The messages were both from the Ministry, granting Harry and Hermione an exemption from the prohibition of underage magic use.

Grinning, Harry used his wand to clean up his room, some oil specks from Hermione's jeans, and started to transfigure the camping gear into more comfortable furniture. With two beds, a desk and two chairs the small room almost felt cramped, but as Hermione had told him they'd not spend much time there other than sleeping. Most of the days they'd be over at Grimmauld Place 12, or with her parents, "training".

There had also been a Daily Prophet with his letter. Harry read the front article, with Hermione reading over his shoulder. It seemed even Spygirl was an avid reader that couldn't wait to learn things, which was a comforting thought to Harry. The article itself was not very accurate. It had the dead death eaters right, but attributed it all to Harry and powerful piercing curses, not gunfire. Voldemort's retreat was accurately described, but the fight with him beforehand was told as if it had been a duel between Harry and Voldemort. Somewhat understandable given the effect of the brother wands, but still too flattering for his taste. It also made Harry the target of every relative of the dead out for revenge. Hermione's answer to that comment, that he already was Voldemort's worst enemy, and that any Death Eater would already have been gunning for him, didn't really improve his mood. At least the article also made it clear that Harry and Dumbledore were the heroes of Wizarding Britain again, having warned of the Dark Lord's return for a year while no one else had believed them, conveniently not mentioning the slander the Prophet had thrown at them for a year on the Minister's order. That Harry supposedly had slain a dozen of the worst Death Eaters must have left a big impression - the editorial was all but shouting for more blood and more support for himself. Harry snorted at the fickleness of public opinion when he handed the newspaper over to Hermione, who read every article.

A bit later they were eating heated canned food. Hermione apologized for the taste, but Harry thought it was certainly better than what he could expect from the Dursleys after returning early from school.

"Say, what kind of training will we get at your parents? Will I learn how to shoot?" Harry had a quick vision of himself shooting two pistols, movie-style.

Hermione shook her head. "You'll get rudimentary training in firearms. Mostly to make sure you won't hurt yourself or anyone else if you need to handle my guns. But it would take too long for you to become a marksman ready to wield a firearm in combat. We'll likely focus on some fitness training, and some basic self-defense."

"Won't it take as long for me to learn how to defend myself as it would take me to learn how to shoot?"

"You'll not become Bruce Lee." Hermione explained. "But since most wizards don't have any training in self-defence, even a little bit will help you a lot. And it will be part of the fitness training. But your main strength is magic."

"How did you train?"

"I didn't. I am the result of experiments on little children. I was more programmed than trained, from what I know. My parents didn't get too detailed in the letter they left me."

They finished their meal while Harry digested that. "Do you think we'll return to Hogwarts in the fall?"

"The operations against Voldemort and his followers would have to be extraordinarily successful for Hogwarts to be safe when the next year starts." Meaning, safe enough so Hermione wouldn't be Spygirl all the time and kill anyone trying to hex her or Harry. Harry knew he might be able to return, if he left Hermione. But even if she would accept that, Harry wasn't sure he'd want it. All his friends would be at Hogwarts. All but his best friend.