Seven – Grimmauld Place – 7:38am

Saturday's were Hermione's day to sleep in. But on this particular one, she woke in a pool of her own sweat, sheets tangled around her legs. Another nightmare.

She was absolutely sick of the dread that sat in her stomach each morning because of these ridiculous dreams. They weren't even accurate to the events that had happened in her past. In her subconscious, Dolohov talks much more than he ever did in person. He taunts her and threatens her and while her mind still registers him as dangerous, it's not nearly as terrifying as his calm and silent persona.

She remembered the Department of Mysteries almost like it happened yesterday. The silent fury in his eyes as she silenced him. The concentration and satisfaction as she tried to scream when his curse hit her. He had enjoyed hurting her. She had only been a sixteen-year-old schoolgirl and he had probably smiled as he struck her down.

In the moments where she pictures what had basically happened, she wakes screaming with the image of those pleased eyes burned into her mind. It takes her days to forget about them or to at least move on. And she hates it. She hates feeling weak and powerless to her mind's bloody reconstruction of past events. She hates having the scum who plagues her continue to do so in and out of reality.

She wants her peace of mind back.

But apparently that was too much to ask for on this particular morning. So she shoved herself out of bed and went in search of a cold shower to both wake herself up and clear her mind from the places it was currently inhabiting.

After getting dressed, she headed downstairs and was surprised to find her housemate already awake and sitting at the table with two cups of hot liquids on the table. She sat in front of the tea and took a tentative sip. It was just the way she liked it. Smiling inwardly, she noted that it had only taken him seven years to figure out how she preferred her tea.

"What are you doing up so early?" She asked conversationally. Harry had his elbows on the table and was staring blankly out the window. She had figured he was just lost in thought… until she spotted the small box and familiar piece of parchment in one of his hands.

"What is it now?" She groaned, hating that ever since her encounter with Dolohov and Lestrange earlier in the week, the 'gifts' were growing more gruesome again. She was thoroughly convinced it was Dolohov. Nothing Harry had tried to say could change her mind. There was no way that it was just a coincidence anymore.

He was stalking her and she knew it. She just had to figure out how to stop it now.

"It's a finger," Harry stated simply as he turned to face her. Worry showed in his eyes and she looked from the box to him. "The fourth one."

"So it's the ring finger?" She guessed. Dolohov had already sent the thumb, forefinger, and middle. She suspected the pinky would come after this one.

Harry nodded slightly, "Yeah… Bastard didn't even take off the rings before he cut."

"Then that's his mistake," Hermione told him, perking up a bit. "You can track rings. Find the maker and figure out who bought them. Or just ask someone who knew what rings Mrs. Pearson wore."

Her friend swallowed visibly before telling her, "Hermione… It's not the Pearsons'."

"What makes you so sure?" She asked in bewilderment, eyebrows raised.

"The blood tests came back," he informed her. "There wasn't a trace of magic anywhere."

"So Muggles? That still fits with the Death Eater motivation. They despise Muggles. It still stands to reason that it could be them," she insisted. Nothing her friend could say would change her mind. In her head, it was either Dolohov or Lestrange. But her money was on Dolohov.

"That's what Neville thinks too. He's been working on it with me." Hermione smiled at him. Neville had shocked everyone months ago when he had announced that he was going to Auror training with Harry but he had done it and was officially a Junior Auror as well.

Harry dropped the box on the table before standing from his seat. "I'm going to go pick up Teddy in an hour but I want to drop that off at the office beforehand. We'll get breakfast after I get back, yeah?"

"Sure," was her reply as he smiled and left the room, presumably to get his cloak.

Hermione's gaze fell on the plain black box sitting on top of the white paper. She pulled the note out from underneath of it and opened it.

"I'll make you worthy to be mine." She repeated under her breath. Shaking her head, she dropped the parchment back onto the table. She'd never understand his motivation. Her logical mind couldn't decipher his delusions.

Maybe that was for the best.

Her eyes flicked back to the box and perhaps it was innate curiosity or her craving to know everything, she opened it as well. Looking down at the detached limb, she went from the habitually bitten fingernail to the cold flesh to the end where it looked as though the finger had been forcefully ripped from the woman's hand.

She could tell it was a woman because the two rings still attached were an engagement and wedding band. They complimented each other well, she saw. Whoever this woman's husband had been had fairly decent taste. There were just enough diamonds to make it look elegant and classy but not in an arrogant, I-have-money-and/or-a-rich-boyfriend sort of way.

Still curious about it, she pulled the rings off and looked on the inside of them for any engravings. The wedding ring had the initials, JLS and HWG, while the engagement ring had the phrase, I love you more.

Hearing Harry's returning footsteps, she snapped out of the trance that had her staring intently at the rings and returned them to the box before closing it with a soft 'snap.'

"So, I'll be back in a little while," he told her as he entered the room.

She stood quickly from her chair and forced a smile onto her face, "I just remembered that I had some shopping I wanted to get done in Diagon Alley first. I think you'll probably beat me home. Rain check on breakfast?"

He looked a bit surprised for a moment and she hoped desperately that he would buy it. Finally, he smiled tentatively and nodded, "Yeah, sure. Be careful."

After promising that she would, she grabbed her own cloak and headed out. She stepped outside and apparated to the outside perimeter of the shopping district. But she didn't stop at any of the shops that she passed.

She needed to get to Knockturn Alley. Those rings… Her head was pounding with each step she took. All she could picture was the rings and the finger and the vials of blood and teeth and it took all of her willpower to not stop directly in the middle of the street and scream at the top of her lungs.

JLS and HWG…

Jean Louise Smith and Henry William Granger

I love you more.

Her parents would constantly repeat that phrase to each other.

This sadistic bastard had found her parents. Her parents that didn't even remember her. Her parents that weren't even technically her parents anymore since she failed to fix their memories four months ago.

He had somehow found them and had been sending her their remains for days.

She was going to Knockturn Alley to find Dolohov. She was going to find him and then she was going to kill him. Laws, Aurors, and the Ministry be damned. He was going to regret this sick obsession with her.

That was a promise.