In Times of Trouble

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Goldensnitch18

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Rated M

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Summary: In times of trouble, magic has a way of working things out. Unfortunately for Hermione, magic has decided that she needs to save the very last person she ever expected. 6th/7th year Dramione Bond

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Disclaimer: I am not profiting from this story.

Anything you recognize belongs to the great and mighty JKR.

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Beta Love: Love to DragonsandOtters of course! Thank you for your work and your time.


Chapter Eight: Grimmauld

It had been ten days. Ten days since she had pulled Remus out of the house, heard him tell her about his dead friend's bond, felt guilt penetrate her being at making him repeat history long buried. Ten days and nothing was the same, nothing at all. They had fled the wedding, terrified, fought with Death Eaters, and finally found a tentative solace at Grimmauld, but none of them felt safe.

The Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming.

The concept had been so jarring at first. They had flown into action, responding on instinct and adrenaline until they had reached this place, this hallowed home that represented everything they were fighting against. Then they had been faced with the curses set for Snape, and Harry's scar had started burning. She had thought the connection closed, but it was clear that it was not.

She worried about Harry here. It was a reminder of everything he had lost, everything that had been given up so that he might live this life, a life so marked with heartache and loss. Once they had settled, once the dust had begun to fall, they were on edge, terrified, wondering what had happened to the people they loved and cared for.

Ron particularly had so much at stake, so much to lose. Every single member of his family gathered in one place. She knew the idea that some, that any of them, could have been killed, or worse, was foremost on his mind, lingering there like a snake ready to attack. It was a relief that Arthur had been able to send his Patronus, but that had been days ago, right after they had arrived. Anything could have happened since then.

They struggled to find a balance. Terror followed them like a shadow, waking her in a cold sweat when Harry had only gone upstairs to Sirius' room. Then they had found R.A.B. She was unimaginably grateful for Kreacher's story, for the hope that it had given them. They held onto the information like a lifeline as they waited for him to return. And then, they had noticed the Death Eaters gathered outside their door, and Lupin had appeared at the house with the news that the full might of the Ministry was now at the hands of the Death Eaters, Harry was being hunted for the murder of Dumbledore, the Muggle-born Register, and that the Order members were all alive, but being heavily targeted. And, then he had offered himself as help, and the truth about Tonks had come out. That argument had been painful, horrible truly, but Lupin needed to be with Tonks. He would see that in the end, of course. He was scared just like the rest of them, and now he had even more reason to be. His wife was bringing a child into the world, this broken world that seemed to be crashing down around them, the world that would surely be treating people like him even more cruelly now.

When Kreacher had finally returned, she let herself pray that finding the locket would be easy. But, life was rarely easy for their trio, their little family of three misfits. Mundungus had spun them a story about a woman who they had quickly realized was Dolores Jane Umbridge, one of the people Hermione hated most in the world. The thought of what she had done to Harry, done to all of the students, in their fifth year made Hermione's blood boil hot with a rage that sought out revenge. Hermione had long ago accepted that she was capable of many things that she had never imagined she would ever find a need for: trapping a Beetle in a jar, placing a terrible spell on a piece of parchment. She had spent many a night dreaming of what she might one day to Umbridge, given the chance. The centaurs had been given the opportunity to set her right, and it had changed nothing. Hermione was also well equipped at timing, and this was not the time to concern herself with revenge. They needed the locket, and so she pushed the rage down and turned her attention to the task at hand. They needed to find a way into the Ministry, and so they began to monitor it, but Hermione needed other answers, answers that ran deeper than Horcruxes and Voldemort, answers she couldn't tell the boys about, no matter how badly she wished to be able to do so.

The Black family were an ancient and most noble house. She knew this, as did everyone. The chance that someone in the line had engaged in a bond had occurred to her shortly after their arrival, and so she buried herself in the library as often as possible. She pulled books from shelves, searching them desperately. Ron and Harry would ask what she was doing, of course. She would tell them she was doing research, looking for anything that might help, and they would join in occasionally. It wasn't that she thought it was impossible that she might find something that could help them on their hunt, it just wasn't her primary goal.

She was now utterly positive that Draco Malfoy was a Death Eater, and she was bound to him, something about them twisted together. She had no idea what the next step should be, but Snape seemed to think there was a reason for it. The only thing keeping her going were Snape's words. In times of trouble, magic has a way of working things out. Magic had needed James and Lily together, for them to see that there was more to them than bickering children. Something had happened, had changed them, so that Harry might be born, so that the world might have a chance to protect itself. It seemed good, a positive intention. Her only hope, the thread she held onto, was that perhaps something good could come of her being bound to Malfoy, but what?

She hated to not understand, to be kept in the dark, and this bond was a black hole of darkness, shrouding her in its wake. She needed answers like she needed air, and so she inhaled the Black books with fervor. Some of them were terrifying. The things Hermione found about Muggles and Muggleborns made her body shiver. At several points, she had gotten up, left the library with a book open on the table, and gone to make a cup of tea. She had needed the time to gather herself after she had seen what they had done to Muggleborns over the years. It was one thing to hear general hints in History of Magic. It was another entirely to be faced with a dissection of a Muggleborn begun when the subject seemed to still be living, held in stasis by magic. She had vomited on two separate occasions. These were the books she read in the dark when she had slipped away from their makeshift bedroom in the drawing room to read into the night. Harry and Ron had no idea she was consuming this material. They would have pulled it away, demanded she stop, but this was Pureblood history. Some of it was easy and beautiful, some of it was dark and terrifying.

She found a couple mentions of bonds in the library at first. They were all fleeting, just references to a member of the family who had married someone else, and apparently been bound to them as well, their magical cores tied together. The words were frustrating, forcing her to ask more and more and more questions, never answering a single one. And, then on the tenth day, she found it.

Hermione was sitting at the table, Harry at the window. Ron was out, spying at the Ministry. She had settled on a very old book about dreaming, thinking perhaps she might be able to help Harry block out Voldemort, even at night, another option than the one he had failed, or refused, to learn. The connection between Harry and Voldemort disturbed her, driving her to worry. It was likely that he had learned his lesson with Sirius, but at the same time, she was sure that he was having more trouble sleeping than he was letting on, and she wondered if Voldemort may be causing that in some way that ran deeper than worrying about the future.

Since Harry was there, she couldn't peruse her darker materials, and so she flipped through the book on dreams. It was interesting enough writing, but most of it seemed like frivolous reaching to her. There were entire chapters musing on the prophetic power of dreams to determine your path through life. This sounded a lot like something Professor Trelawney would spout at anyone who stood still long enough to listen, and Hermione was very much not interested. In the middle of all this, quite unexpectedly, she read over text that stopped her eyes abruptly.

Though communication through dreams has been attempted many times, it is believed to not be possible, though some have claimed success. Ottilie Fawley once wrote in a letter to her sister, Adelia, that she and her husband, Larkin Fawley, shared "a connection true and deep" that ran into their nightly dreams with such vivid clarity as to "reflect the enchanting days of our life." Ottilie seemed to believe that she and Larkin were truly able to speak to each other through their dreams, even when they were separated.

The book ran on, changing topic quickly, the author clearly finding little credence in the musings of a housewife bragging to her sister about her "enchanting" marriage. Hermione cared very little if her marriage was enchanting or not, but went back, reading the words again anyway. They stirred in her another memory from her conversation with Remus. She closed her eyes trying to remember exactly what he had said about Lily and James. They seemed to have ways of communicating when they shouldn't have.

Could it be? Could this comment by Ottilie Fawley, which had been so easily disparaged by the author as the boasting of a simple woman to another simple woman be the key Hermione had been so desperately searching for? Dreams?

It seemed so odd. If it was that simple, wouldn't she have stumbled upon him in her dreams at some point in the past few months? She wasn't sure that Ottilie was bound to Larkin. It was a guess at best, a reach that she wasn't sure she should make. But, she was sure about James and Lily. They were bound. She had been told by two people now. Sure, one of them had murdered her headmaster and seemed to be working for Voldemort, but that didn't mean he couldn't be trusted about this, and his testimony had been backed up by Remus Lupin, a man she did trust without any doubt.

Hermione read the text again, hoping that it would reveal something new to her, but it failed to provide any more answers. She glanced over at Harry, wishing she could talk this over with him, tell him any of it, but she didn't trust him, not with this. Harry was one of her dearest friends. She loved him very much, and she would gladly put her life in his hands, but when it came to Severus Snape and Draco Malfoy, Harry lost all sense of rationality. Once she had begun her story, he would lose the ability to be impartial. He would surely think that all of this was scheming of Voldemort designed to lure Hermione into some trap or something. It was possible, but that would be a very long game that seemed to have no purpose.

She rubbed the back of her neck, trying to shift from the book of dreams to the notes she had started about the Ministry. There was too much to think about these days, too much to do, too much in her brain. Hopefully, Ron would have some information to add to her notes when he returned. Her stomach flipped at the thought of him Apparating onto the top step, even with the cloak on.

"Are they still out there?" she asked, even though she knew the answer.

"Yes," Harry confirmed, his eyes still staring out. She knew he was just as concerned about Ron, if not more. He felt responsible for them both. Hermione pushed back from the table and walked over to the window to look out at the two men gazing up the street.

"Come on," Hermione told Harry, her hand moving to rest on his shoulder. "I'll make some lunch. Ron should be back soon,"

"Yeah." Harry nodded, but she could tell he had to force himself to stand, moving his eyes away from the street.


A/N: I'm unable to control myself with this story. Have another chapter. It's yours.

This chapter is for crookshanks the kitty. You pinned the Malfoy family for sure! Lol. I really enjoy reading your reviews! Thank you for being here, reading, and sharing your thoughts.

xoxo

Meg