I'd like to thank brianna-xox and fredfred for betaing. They improved the story a lot.

Chapter 10: Meetings

'With most of House Slytherin fled from Hogwarts, one might have expected the Ministry to put more pressure on Albus Dumbledore in response, since many of those students were relatives to influential Wizengamot members - some, like Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson and Daphne Greengrass, had even inherited seats but were not yet of age to exercise their rights. And yet, if such attempts were made in the wake of the flight of the Slytherins - records differ - they came to naught. They might even be responsible for the increasingly stiff resistance Dumbledore showed towards the policies of the Wizengamot and the Ministry.

However, the Second Blood War entering a very active phase at around the same time makes it hard to determine just what influence the events at Hogwarts had on this - other than the obvious consequences, of course.'

- Excerpt from 'The Second Blood War' by Hyacinth Selwyn

London, Southwark, October 6th, 1996

A meeting on the Tower Bridge sounded like something straight out of a spy novel, Hermione Granger thought. On the other hand, it offered more ways to spot and escape an ambush than a building or a crowded area. And given its prominence in muggle London, the chance of a pureblood attack was very low, especially if you considered the threat to the Statute of Secrecy any magical battle in such a public spot would be. So, she could understand Clifton's choice.

She still felt very exposed, waiting on the pavement, acting as if she was watching the river below and feeding the seagulls and pigeons while she was keeping an eye out for threats and the Hit-Wizard she was meeting. Justin was on top of the tower, disillusioned and with a broom and rifle. Allan was watching from the Southwark approach, Seamus was on the other side of the river, and Dean was a bit away, peddling religious literature as a cover. And if the worst happened, she could pull out a broom of her own and fly away. Or splash into the river and swim away, courtesy of a Bubble-Head and Cushioning Charm.

But there shouldn't be a problem. She had spent weeks on this meeting, asking and answering questions, until finally both her and Clifton had agreed on meeting face to face. She was even in disguise, though given that she was wearing a jacket with the logo of the 'Arsenal Gunners' on the back as a recognition sign, her disguise wouldn't be of much use. And the wig itched.

"Disillusioned person approaching on the other side of the bridge," Dean told her and the rest through their radios.

"Covering the area. If you mark him, I'll shoot him," Justin answered. He could easily shoot the person from his vantage point, as soon as Dean either dispelled the Disillusionment or simply marked the person with a hex - a flock of birds attacking them would provide a decent enough target.

Just one? That wasn't enough for an ambush, she thought. Although you never knew with the Ministry - they could surprise you with their stupidity. Then she saw an older woman slowly walk towards her, carrying a bag with a flower pot in it - the agreed recognition sign. When the woman stopped next to her, Hermione mumbled "Louise Clifton?"

"Yes." The woman pulled out a loaf of bread and started to feed the birds as well.

"Is that Chadwick disillusioned on the other side of the road? Or does my backup have to shoot him?" Hermione asked, throwing a bigger piece of bread into the air, which was attacked by two seagulls at the same time in a loud and violent struggle.

"That's him, yes," came the answer. "Shoot him?"

"Sniper's covering us. We spotted Chadwick on the approach already. As the Ministry's most wanted muggleborns, we have to be cautious." Hermione turned around and leaned on the railing. "And that's why you wanted to meet here; to see how we'd approach the situation. Right?" There was not much of a point otherwise for this - if this was a Ministry trap, they'd wait until they had a location for a safe house to spring it.

Up close she could see that the other witch's disguise wasn't the best. Thick makeup, and a rather obvious wig. Probably padded clothes as well, unless the fitness standards for Hit-Wizards were worse than she thought.

"Well, we wanted to see how you'd approach such a situation. Anyone can claim anything on the internet, after all." The slightly sheepish tone was replaced with a more confident one. "And you wouldn't lead us to your headquarters straight away either, would you?"

"We've safeguards against betrayal," Hermione said. "And no, they aren't Legilimency, nor an Unbreakable Vow."

That surprised the other witch. "Who's backing you? That's not the kind of resources teenagers have."

"We're no one's tools," Hermione said. "No one tells us what to do." She stared at Clifton. "I've been fighting Voldemort and his ilk since I started at Hogwarts, together with Harry Potter. I've organised this group. We moved our families to safety before the Ministry could catch us. Malfoy Manor? We did that because we had a chance at the Dark Lord himself, but we were still preparing for this war back then. Now we've finished the first stage of our preparations, and we're ready to start waging war."

She saw that the other witch was surprised, and taken aback. As planned - Hermione wouldn't let anyone waltz in and take over. Especially not some adults who had done far, far less than she had done to battle the Dark Lord.

She smiled widely. "Now, let's collect your friend, and move to a slightly less public space, so we can check if you're trustworthy."

London, Bexley, October 6th, 1996

The two former Hit-Wizards were taken to another safe house - the upper two floors of a defunct radio and television business the Resistance had appropriated. Conjured furniture provided some comforts, but Hermione knew that no one would be fooled into thinking the muggleborns were staying there.

Neither Clifton nor Chadwick said anything about it, though they were looking around and assessing the other Resistance members present, or so it looked like to Hermione. Mary and Tania met their gazes with some of their own. The two witches, as well as Allan and Justin, were holding assault rifles. Just in case.

"Here's the contract," Hermione said, putting the parchment down on the table. "It'll ensure you can't betray us." Most of the questions they had had been answered through e-mail already. But the Resistance hadn't revealed their security measure.

"What exactly does it do?" Clifton asked, eyeing the document with some wariness.

"Wipes your mind of all our information," Hermione said. "Anything you will have learned since joining us."

"Don't think that it will save you if the Ministry catches you - Martin lost his memory, and they executed him anyway," Allan added.

"It's to protect the rest of us," Hermione said, hiding her annoyance at the interruption - she would have covered that in the next sentence.

"I'd have expected something more drastic," Chadwick said, "after what you did to Beckett."

"Beckett sold one of us out. He paid for it," Hermione said. "But we can be put under the Imperius Curse, or dosed with Veritaserum. We don't kill victims."

The wizard exchanged a glance with Clifton and nodded. "Fair enough." He reached out for the pen, but his friend was faster and signed first.

"Welcome to the Resistance," Hermione said, smiling and shaking hands.

"Glad to be here." Clifton smiled. "Call me Louise then."

"And I'm Jeremy," Chadwick added. "So… what's with the guns? I haven't heard of any wizards getting shot."

"We haven't used them yet. There was no need to," Hermione explained. "We prefer not to give the Death Eaters advance warning of what we can do. But we've access to a wide range of firearms."

"And you'll get to be trained in their use as well!" Sally-Anne said, grinning. "Boot camp!"

"Boot camp?" Jeremy asked.

Hermione grinned. "Not a real boot camp, but if you want to use a firearm, you'll have to get the necessary training." She grew serious. "We don't fool around with weapons."

"We don't fool around, period," Allan said.

Hermione wasn't certain if that was a dig at her refusing his advances. Sally-Anne winced though, and so the witch added: "Not in combat or 'on the job'." They weren't some order of chaste knights. She really wished she could do all the talking. At least Dean and Seamus were providing security outside, instead of quipping inside. "You know our enemy is Voldemort. He and his Death Eaters are behind this whole war. We blew up Malfoy Manor, and while we managed to kill a lot of the Dark Lord's supporters, the rest became very cautious. So, our priority is finding the Death Eaters. They are hiding, but their supporters are still interacting with wizarding society. Even though the more intelligent of them stick to the Floo Network for travel, and live in secret manors as well, they are not untouchable. We will need to reach them when they are visiting public or semi-public areas." She grinned. "And I think your experience as Hit-Wizards should be useful there."

Louise grinned back. "Oh, yes. We've guarded those spots often enough."

Jeremy nodded. "I think the Ministry might soon regret that they kept us on security detail."

Hermione smiled. She had a feeling that these two would fit in nicely with the group.

London, Ministry of Magic, October 6th, 1996

Brenda Brocktuckle entered the Auror offices and didn't flinch when, for a moment, everyone seemed to stare at her. She'd gone through this before, when that mudblood bitch had stunned her and murdered her partner. Everyone had blamed her. And now everyone was blaming her for getting Beckett killed on her watch. Literally.

She held her head high and met their eyes. It hadn't been her fault back then, and it wasn't her fault this time either. Nor her partner's, or the fault of the other Aurors with her. The only one at fault was the mudblood bitch. She pulled out a leaflet and slapped it on the desk of Martin Runcorn. "Check this!"

Her partner picked the sheet of parchment up and read it. "The Muggleborn Resistance claims responsibility for the attack on Beckett, in retaliation for his 'betrayal of Martin Cokes to the blood-robed thugs in service of the Ministry's oppressive and inhuman policies'. Well, that's a new moniker for us…" He chuckled, but then frowned when he read the next part. "They're blaming 'a Ministry plan to poison muggleborns' for the disaster?"

Brenda nodded. "Hogwash, all of it, but the Alley trash is eating it up. I caught glares galore when I visited earlier." The scum shouldn't be that daring.

Martin muttered a curse. Then he smiled cynically. "At least the case's solved thanks to the leaflet. It's as good as a confession."

Brenda scoffed. "No case is solved until the guilty are caught or dead."

"That might be a problem," her partner agreed. "The mudbloods are too good at hiding. Can we ambush them when they drop the leaflets?"

Brenda shrugged. "If they're smart they'll portkey them in, or banish them at the street from high above while disillusioned."

"We could block Portkeys, and then cover the air above the alley with ambushers," Martin said.

She snorted. Her partner was no longer a rookie, but he hadn't yet fully understood just how the Ministry worked. "No chance of that. After our stake-out blew up in our face, we won't get the approval for another attempt. Even if it might be a good plan."

"Might?"

"If we can spot them, they can spot us," Brenda quoted her old instructor. "According to our latest estimates, there are about a dozen members of that mudblood group. If they all come at us at once…"

"They're mudbloods, they won't be that good on brooms. And they don't have our training; most are students." Martin wasn't easily deterred. Another good quality for an Auror - sometimes you had to be too stubborn for your own good to solve a case.

"Soaking up curses is what Hit-Wizards are for. We're Aurors." Brenda shook her head.

"We could get Hit-Wizards for this. They are trained for that."

This time Brenda laughed out loud. "Hit-Wizards on an unsanctioned Auror mission? They barely ever cooperate when Bones makes them work with us at wand-point!" And the Ministry kept most of them around the Ministry building anyway.

"They've lost a number of their own. They are bound to be looking for some payback."

"That's true, but most of them want to avenge Azkaban," Brenda said.

"Most, not all," Martin said, in a lower voice.

Brenda knew what he was hinting at. Or who, to be precise. "Taking that kind of help means you might find yourself blackmailed into joining later." And she didn't want to end up a traitor, or an expendable wand.

Her partner frowned, but slowly nodded. "But what can we do then? We have to do something about the mudbloods!"

She had thought about that, a lot - even before Beckett had been killed. "I know. What we need is a spy."

London, East End, October 7th, 1996

Louise and Jeremy had been impressed, or at least had acted impressed, by the real safe house of the Resistance - mostly the armoury. But to Hermione Granger's delight they not only understood the need to keep the Resistance hidden and safe in the muggle world, but also that Voldemort was the real enemy. Even though, the girl admitted to herself, the ex-Hit-Wizards might also prefer not to fight all of their former colleagues at the Ministry.

She glanced at Allan, who was frowning a bit more than usual, before she continued their planning session. "Now, I'll be looking into Death Eater info later today. The list of pureblood bigots you have compiled will be a great help," she added with a smile to Louise. "But now that we have finished boot camp and have dealt with the traitor, we need to step up our propaganda." She stood at the head of the table. "The key to winning this war is the half-bloods. So far, the Death Eaters and their sympathisers haven't as much as sneered at them in public."

"That's because most of the half-bloods act more pureblood than the purebloods," Allan said, scoffing.

"Some might. Others might play along, hoping to get overlooked while the bigots go after us. But every half-blood has muggleborn family. They may be raised in the magical world, and they don't know the muggle world as well as they could," - Hermione had heard enough stories about Nymphadora Tonks's forays into muggle London's clubbing scene from Sirius to know that - "but the main reason the bigots have not gone after them - yet - is that there are so many of them, and that Dumbledore is among them." She met Allan's eyes. "If we can make them see that the Ministry's policies will sooner or later cause harm to their families, then we'll gain not just allies for us, but will force the Ministry to either change, or lose the support of a third of the population."

"They didn't exactly care about muggleborns when the Nazi laws were passed last year," Dean said.

"They didn't. But a lot of people wanted to avoid war back then. Now that the Dark Lord's openly fighting the Ministry, things will have changed."

Allan snorted. "Such cowards won't do us much good."

"Even cowards can fight when backed into a corner," Hermione said.

"But as you said: The Death Eaters are not attacking them. They won't, as long as we're there to fight," Justin said.

"There were a number of half-bloods among the Hit-Wizards killed at Azkaban," Louise said.

"But they were killed because they were guards there, not for their blood status," Allan said.

Hermione cleared her throat. "We just need to make half-bloods think - realise - that their families are in danger as well, and that they themselves will be next if the muggleborns are dealt with. Playing up the half-blood victims of the Death Eaters will help there."

"It would be more helpful if some Death Eaters would attack half-bloods. Torch a shop or two," Allan said.

Hermione knew what he meant, and scowled. "Trying to fake attacks by the Death Eaters is too risky. One mistake, and they'll be able to blame their real attacks on us. We can't afford to lose our credibility."

Allan shrugged. "If we're careful enough, no one will be able to prove we did it."

"We're not attacking innocents while acting as Death Eaters," Hermione said through clenched teeth. "We're better than that."

"Having the moral high ground won't help us if we lose this war," Seamus shot back.

"Having the moral high ground is the best way to win this war," Hermione replied. "We need the support of the population; that's how civil wars are won." She stared at Allan, then went on: "And for that, we need to step up our propaganda. Leaflets are an easy and effective way to spread our message, but we'll need to reach more people - especially those who left the magical world."

"That's hard. They'll be hiding."

"I know. But many of them will be keeping some contact with Wizarding Britain. Newspapers, or the Wizarding Wireless." Hermione leaned forward. "We need to be able to interfere with those two channels, and set up our own." She smiled. "I've a few thoughts for that."

Hogwarts, October 7th, 1996

The office of the Headmaster hadn't changed in the years since his first visit, as far as Harry Potter could tell. Of course he didn't have a photographic memory, but the weird and exotic knickknacks on the shelves looked the same. And the office smelled the same as well. The Headmaster, though, looked different, somewhat. More tired, or more serious.

Or maybe that was Harry projecting. Keeping an eye on the map at all times meant taking shifts, and Harry and Ron had taken more than their fair share of late night vigils. Mostly because they tended to share their shifts so they could talk and keep each other awake.

"I suppose you are wondering why I have called you to my office," the Headmaster started.

"Yes, sir," Ron said. He looked as anxious as Harry felt, even though both knew that if there had been an emergency with either their family or friends, then Dumbledore would have called them at once, and not asked them to visit him after dinner. At least they were reasonably certain he'd do that. Hence the slight anxiety.

The old wizard sighed, then smiled. "You've shown remarkable ingenuity, courage and moral fibre during your time at Hogwarts. Always ready to do what's right, not what's easy - or legal, even. True Gryffindors, if I do say so as a member of that house myself."

"Thank you, Headmaster," Harry said. "We've just done what we thought was needed."

Dumbledore winced at that. "I know, and I am sorry that such a duty fell to you so often. I have failed you in the past. You and your friends."

Harry knew which friends the Headmaster was talking about. And which friend in particular. He would have said something about nobody being perfect, but it felt too cliched. Ron snorted, but didn't say anything.

"You both have learned Occlumency," Dumbledore continued.

Harry scowled. "Thanks to Hermione. Snape's lessons were useless." He wondered if the Headmaster had spied on him or tested his Occlumency himself. On the other hand, Sirius might have told the man.

"That was not his fault. I told him to choose the quickest method to teach you, knowing it was both painful and had a smaller chance of succeeding than other methods." Dumbledore sighed. "It was a gamble, which did not pay off."

"And caused a lot of pain to Harry," Ron said.

"I am sorry for that, but I deemed it more important to protect his mind from Voldemort. Another plan that did not succeed. The last year has not been a good year. If I hadn't checked, I would think I had been cursed." The old wizard chuckled without humour. "On the other hand, others have had more success with their endeavours. Your friend has formed a resistance group and dealt the Dark Lord a heavy blow. You two have helped her, and protected your house, and I dare say, the school as well." He leaned back and glanced at Fawkes, who was preening himself. "You know about the Order of the Phoenix."

"Yes," Ron said.

Harry nodded. He hadn't expected that to come up.

"I suppose you also are aware of what we do."

"Somewhat," Harry replied. Sirius had been at times more vocal about what the Order wasn't doing.

"Most of what the Order members do is kept secret. Even from most of the other members." Dumbledore frowned. "A lesson learned in the last war, at great cost."

"Pettigrew," Harry growled. The traitor who was responsible for the murder of his parents.

"Secrets you do not know you cannot betray - willingly, or under duress." Dumbledore looked at Harry. "Even Occlumency only goes so far."

"I'd rather die than betray my friends!" Ron spat.

"I do not doubt you. But sometimes, you are not given that choice, and sometimes, it is not your own life that is on the line. But I digress." The Headmaster folded his hands over his stomach. "I would like to recruit you for the Order of the Phoenix."

Harry blinked. He hadn't expected that. He glanced at Ron, who seemed just as surprised.

"Blimey!" Ron's smile didn't last long though, turning into a scowl. "Mum's never going to allow that. She threw a fit when Charlie and Bill joined."

"Molly lost her brothers in the last war. She is understandably unwilling to see her children risk their lives, even though she did not hesitate to do so herself when I called the Order up again," the Headmaster said. "In any case, I do not think she should be told about this, nor should anyone else but Sirius, and maybe a few others, should their help become necessary."

Harry stared at the old wizard. Ron was gaping.

Dumbledore nodded. "Secrecy is safety."

"Yes. Mum would kill us all if she knew," Ron said, wincing. "But what do you need us for, sir? We're already watching Hogwarts through the map, so you wouldn't need us in the Order for that."

Harry nodded. And once Sirius and Remus had the map copied, Dumbledore wouldn't need them for that either. Not that he truly needed them, Harry knew - if the Headmaster asked, they'd give him the map.

"You are correct. And while you have proven your resourcefulness and dedication, and would make very valued additions to our ranks just for that, there is another reason you are needed." He looked at Harry. "You know that you and Voldemort have a link. What you do not know is that your fates are tied together far tighter than you could imagine. There is a prophecy about you and the Dark Lord."

Ron cursed while Harry clenched his teeth. He just knew he would hate what the Headmaster was about to tell him.

Hogwarts, October 7th, 1996

"... born as the seventh month ends."

Albus Dumbledore looked at the two boys sitting in front of his desk. Harry was rigid, clenching his jaw together, and staring at the wall behind the Headmaster. Mister Weasley was glancing at his friend, biting his lower lip, and fidgeting.

"Blimey…" he muttered, shaking his head.

Harry took a deep breath. "So… that's why my parents died? Why he is so fixated on me? Why he needed my blood to revive himself?"

Albus smiled gently, and nodded. "To be precise, Tom's belief in the prophecy is what drove him to attack your family. He didn't need your blood to be resurrected; he chose it so he would be immune to the protection your mother had granted you."

"The blood protection," Harry said.

Albus nodded. He didn't know what Lily Potter had done to protect Harry. All her notes had been lost - or deliberately destroyed. He had his suspicions, of course. Harry thought, like most of Britain, that it was his mother's love that had protected him. From a certain point of view, that was correct. Lily's love for Harry had driven her to take such measures. And it wouldn't do to let Britain know that the Boy-Who-Lived had most likely been protected by highly-illegal blood magic.

"So… I'll have to face him." Harry took a deep breath. He was being brave.

His friend put his hand on the boy's shoulder. "Not alone, mate. We'll be with you all the way."

Albus smiled. "Actually, you have the power to vanquish him. That does not mean that you have to face him like I faced Grindelwald. Or even meet him on the battlefield."

"But…" Harry trailed off.

Mister Weasley blinked. "Oh! You mean it's something more abstract. Like his fame, or influence."

He nodded at the boy. "Prophecies are notoriously vague. 'Power' has a lot of meanings. We can but hope that Tom will keep thinking it is the kind of power he knows best - the power from spells and curses."

"It's not that then," Harry said.

Albus shook his head. "No, it is not. I do think I know what it is, but to be certain, I need to do more research. Assuming instead of knowing could be a fatal in this case."

"So… that's what you need me for." Harry looked resigned.

"Not entirely." Albus sighed. "The Dark Lord has taken measures to cheat death. To cling to life even after his body died."

"As a shade." Harry shivered, no doubt remembering his past encounters with the Dark Lord.

"That is the result, not the cause of his unnatural existence." Albus paused. He had the full attention of the two boys now. "He has created Horcruxes. Anchors, of sorts, for his soul. Creations of the darkest arts that keep his soul from passing on after death."

"The diary!" Harry exclaimed.

Dumbledore nodded. "That was one of them. His first, and somewhat different, if I am correct. I will not tell you how he created them; suffice to know that the very act of creating a Horcrux irrevocably stains your soul. Even with his Horcruxes gone, Tom will be doomed to never pass on. To never find peace. To suffer a half-existence in the realms between life and death for eternity. A fate worse than death."

The two boys shivered. Ron swallowed. "And we'll have to hunt them down?"

Albus nodded. "Harry's link to him will help there."

Harry nodded slowly.

"You will need training. Horcruxes corrupt people. They attack your mind and soul, inserting doubts, weakening your resolve, and encouraging selfish desires. You have learned Occlumency, but you will have to master it to hunt Horcruxes. I will train you, but I have to warn you: It will be painful, exhausting and frustrating. More so than you can imagine."

"Can't be worse than Snape's lessons," Harry muttered.

Albus suppressed a wince at hearing that. If the boy knew why Severus had taught him like that… Out loud, he said: "It is time for you to retire to your dorm, and think about this. Discuss it. Even with your friend, though in person, with no one able to listen in."

That surprised the two, but it pleased them as well. As Albus had known it would. They left his office in higher spirits than they had entered, or so he assumed. His own smile vanished as soon as the door closed behind them, and he closed his eyes as he fought his guilt.

If they knew the full prophecy… he remembered it, as clearly as the day he'd first heard it.

… and he and the Dark Lord will be one, and either will crush the other, for neither can let the other survive or they will lose what they hold most dear. The one with the power to defeat the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month ends.

Albus sighed. He was certain that he knew what the prophecy meant. What Harry would have to do. But to tell the boy could ruin it. And if the Dark Lord found out… no, it was better to let everyone think that the Horcruxes were the key to Tom's defeat.

London, No. 12 Grimmauld Place, October 8th, 1996

Hermione Granger apparated straight to the entrance hall of Sirius's house. She had contacted him beforehand to check that he had no visitors, but she was still tense. Between the Imperius and Polyjuice, a trap remained a possibility. But if she didn't take any risk at all, she'd never be able to win this war.

Sirius was waiting for her, leaning against the wall opposite the door. She checked her sides and the ceiling at once for a possible ambush before smiling at him. "Good afternoon."

He raised his eyebrows. "Are we getting paranoid?"

She snorted. "A month dodging ambushes in the woods leaves an impression." It had also left her behind on her personal studying schedule, but that she could make up. Even though she doubted she would take exams or tests any time soon, she tried to study as if she could return to Hogwarts any day. She wouldn't abandon her education completely. She wouldn't grant the pureblood bigots that victory.

Sirius shook his head. "The things you kids get up to…" He gestured to the door leading to the living room. "I assume you're not here hours before Harry and Ron can sneak out of Hogwarts because you've got designs on my body." He leered at her and added. "Though if you have I will, of course, do my utmost to accommodate you!"

She chuckled. "You're correct. I need information and help."

They sat down on old, soft armchairs, and Kreacher arrived with the tea and snacks. The house-elf glanced at her briefly and vanished quickly. He hadn't forgotten the lesson she had taught him.

"So… what do you need?" Sirius asked, his cup in hand.

"Information about Death Eater sympathisers. We need to interrogate them to find where the Death Eaters are hiding," Hermione said, putting her own cup down. She didn't need to tell him what they would do to those Death Eaters they found.

Sirius nodded. "Their sympathisers in the Wizengamot are well-guarded. They're scared of sharing Malfoy's fate, and would apparate directly into their seats for a session, if they could."

"I expected that. But they'll have younger relatives in the Ministry. Aurors. Hit-Wizards. People who can't stay behind wards all day." Hermione bit into a small cucumber sandwich.

"That they do. Though their elders might not share many of their secrets with them." Sirius sipped from his cup. "And with the recent disappearance of a few Aurors, they have increased their own security as well."

Hermione frowned. Another unexpected wrench in their plans. She told herself that the Aurors deserting was a good thing. And even if they were killed it would mean that someone else was fighting them. "That can't be helped. We will be careful and quick, so no one will be the wiser. If needed we can create a distraction. But we need names and a way to identify them." She didn't have access to the patrol schedules of the Aurors, but the Wireless Ears Harry and Ron had placed in The Thin Red Line gave them enough information about patrols - it was amazing how often Aurors complained about their shifts.

"I'll see what I can do. Nymphadora might be able to help there, but I'd rather not risk her." Sirius refilled his cup. "You're going on the offensive then."

Hermione nodded. "We're still not as prepared as I'd like, but some of the boys are getting restless." She frowned. If only Allan, Dean and Seamus had more patience!

Sirius grinned. "The boys not listening to you?" He ignored her glare. "Not like Harry and Ron then."

She scoffed. "Harry and Ron would push for action as well."

"But you wouldn't give in."

"I'm not their mum."

Sirius chuckled. "Definitely not. Although you might be as scary as Molly. Maybe even scarier."

She blinked, then scowled. "What do you mean?" She wasn't that much of a nag.

"Molly doesn't like to talk about it, but she was a right terror in the last war. After her brothers were murdered by Death Eaters, she paid them back. With interest, if you get my meaning. Of course she might be rusty after all these years, and she has gained some pounds on her hips, but she's not a witch many want to cross."

Hermione wasn't certain if Sirius was pulling her leg or not. To imagine Ron's mum on the battlefield… on the other hand, she was an impressive witch, with a temper to match. She'd ask Ron later, to confirm the story. "There's another thing. We need information about the Wizarding Wireless Network. Preferably from a maintenance wizard or witch."

"What are you planning? It's based in Hogsmeade."

Did he think they'd blow up the village? "We want to create our own wireless broadcasting station."

Sirius whistled. "That's ambitious. But to imagine their propaganda shows getting hijacked…" He grinned widely. "You'll need some specialised equipment too."

"Yes. That could be tracked if purchased legally. We plan to steal it from the Network, or purchase it abroad." She finished her cup. "But we need to understand how it works first. Hence the need to interrogate a maintenance wizard."

Sirius nodded. "Shouldn't be too hard. They won't be expecting to be kidnapped."

"It's still Hogsmeade. Lots of patrols there," Hermione answered.

"They might be watching out for Dumbledore more than for muggleborns, these days." Sirius chuckled.

"Oh?"

"Our dear Headmaster is losing his patience. He all but told Fudge and Bones that if the Ministry kept trying to push Voldemort's agenda, he'll react accordingly." Sirius grinned. "Took him long enough."

Hermione frowned. On one hand, Dumbledore opposing the Ministry was a good thing, on the other hand… "If he fights the Ministry, Hogwarts will suffer. They'll try to take it over, and he can either let them, or turn the school into a fortress."

Sirius scoffed. "That'll happen anyway. The Ministry won't change. The purebloods have too much power, and they are too afraid. Dumbledore can only delay the inevitable. And Hogwarts is too important to be abandoned to the enemy."

Hermione hissed. If Hogwarts was turned into a battleground, then Harry and Ron…

"You know they'll fight anyway, don't you?" Sirius asked, smiling sadly.

The young witch frowned. She didn't like that she was so easy to read.

"You can't keep them safe. And it would be hypocritical to risk your own life, but not let them risk theirs." Sirius took another sip, then put his cup down.

She glared at him. He held up his hands. "I don't like it either. But do you honestly expect them to stay of the fighting? It's a miracle they didn't found their own resistance group months ago. And if they hadn't been able to spy on the Aurors, they'd probably have run off to join yours." He grinned. "They might still do that."

Hermione smiled, imagining it, then frowned. She didn't think the other Resistance members would like that. Allan would be insufferable, Dean and Seamus probably as well. They'd see her friends as interlopers, trying to take over. And the others… She shook her head. "That wouldn't work out."

Sirius looked at her, then nodded. She didn't know what he thought, and didn't want to ask.

She grabbed another sandwich. "So… I've got a few things I'd like to check your library for."

The wizard chuckled. "Ah, that's why you came so early!" He stood up. "I'm not about to get between you and books - as everyone tells me, that's far too dangerous."

She scowled, but he just laughed. Then she smiled. The banter felt almost like when she had visited the house for the first time. Before Wizarding Britain had decided to persecute her and the other muggleborns.

Then she remembered what she was researching, and her smile faded.

London, No. 12 Grimmauld Place, October 8th, 1996

Harry Potter stumbled out of the fireplace and barely managed to avoid falling down. As far as Floo travel went, it was one of his better trips, even if Sirius was shaking his head at him. Ron stepped out of the fireplace as if he was walking through a door.

"Harry!"

Hermione was chuckling at his wobbly entrance. He felt a brief spark of anger at his problems with magical travel, and some jealousy at others' mastery of it. Then he took a closer look at his best female friend. She looked different. Not just because she had cut her hair short. She looked a bit leaner too, in jeans and a t-shirt. And when she hugged him, she felt… fitter, kind of.

"Blimey, Hermione! You've cut your hair!" Ron said. "Looks good though."

She released Harry and hugged Ron, smiling. She didn't blush, as far as Harry could tell. "It's more manageable that way. And I can wear wigs more easily."

Harry grinned. Of course Hermione would have practical reasons for the change. He embraced Sirius.

Ron shook his head. "You kept your hair long while you were living in the woods, and now you cut it when you're back in London? Mental!"

Hermione pouted. "It was a matter of pride. Our instructors wanted me to cut my hair. Said I couldn't manage."

"Well, charms don't care how long your hair is. Although yours might have given them pause." Ron grinned, then held up his hands when Hermione glared at him.

"We missed you," Harry said, before his two friends could start a row, or something else. "How are you doing?"

The witch sighed as they walked towards Sirius's living room. "I'm behind my study schedule. I want to keep pace with the material for sixth year, but I didn't get much studying done last month."

"Which means you're just a month ahead, not two?" Ron snorted.

Hermione didn't answer that, so his best mate was probably correct. "I've been reading up on counter-curses in the library here. There are a number of dark curses that normal healing spells won't work on." Her expression left no doubt that she thought Harry and Ron should do the same.

Harry nodded. She was right, of course. "I guess between Bellatrix and Malfoy's mother, the Death Eaters are bound to have learned some of those curses."

"Exactly." Hermione smiled at him.

"I doubt that they have taught the more exotic spells in our library to everyone. They were raised very traditionally, as you know. But they'd have taught them to family members, like the Lestranges, and of course Draco," Sirius said.

"And Malfoy's probably planning another attack right now," Ron added. "Not on Hogwarts though."

"Voldemort might not let him do as he pleases. And there haven't been many attacks by Death Eaters," Harry said.

"Not many that we know of," Hermione corrected him as she sat down on the couch. Harry sat down next to her, grabbing a sandwich from the plate on the low table, while Sirius and Ron took the seats across from them.

"They might be behind the vanished Aurors," Sirius said. "At least some Aurors suspect that."

"Well, it wasn't us," Hermione said. "But some other muggleborns could have done it. We're not the only ones hiding. We're focusing on Death Eaters anyway."

"Aurors are easier to find than Death Eaters," Sirius said.

"The Ministry's not the real enemy. Once Voldemort has been killed and his followers dealt with, the Ministry will fall in line. We can't waste our efforts on spineless worms when there are murderers to deal with." Hermione's expression made Harry suspect that if the Ministry didn't change rapidly after the Dark Lord's defeat, then there would be hell to pay.

He didn't care. The Ministry hadn't done anything for him, and the Aurors had tried to kill his godfather and his best friend. Though there were some people in the Ministry he did care for, he added to himself with a glance at Ron.

"Shouldn't underestimate them. Dad says the Ministry can be very stubborn and even more stupid." Ron grabbed a sandwich himself, and opened a butterbeer.

"I know. But if we start attacking the Aurors, we play into Voldemort's hands. He can just wait and build his forces up while we weaken each other." Hermione scowled. "And we'd push more people into his camp."

Harry patted her shoulder. "They're hunting you though."

"I know." The witch sighed. For a moment, she looked tired and very vulnerable to Harry. He wanted to hug her. Pull her into his lap. "And I know there's a lot of Death Eater sympathisers in the Ministry. And more in the Wizengamot. But the real enemy is Voldemort." She pushed her chin up. "And we'll go after him and his. It's too bad the Slytherins fled from Hogwarts. If we had found a way to tag them with trackers…"

"That would have been nice. I'm certain Fred and George could have whipped something up." Ron smiled.

"We can still use such things. Electronic trackers don't work correctly. And the spells I've found are well-known," Hermione said. "Their counters will be common as well."

"I'll ask the twins," Ron said. "It'll have a silly name, and it'll look silly as well, but it'll work. Probably."

"Thank you Ron." The witch smiled at him. Harry felt some jealousy again, and fought it down. Both were his best friends. And Hermione wasn't flirting with Ron.

"Be very careful. If your tracking method gets discovered, you're bound to run into an ambush. Voldemort's smart," Sirius pointed out.

"Speaking of Voldemort…" Harry took a deep breath. "There's something Dumbledore told us that we didn't want to tell you through the mirrors."

When Harry had finished telling them what he had learned, Sirius was pacing in the living room, cursing loudly in several languages, and Hermione looked like she wanted to jump up and scour the library for every bit of information about Horcruxes.

"The Headmaster's working on it already," Harry said, trying to make them feel better.

"That doesn't mean we can't work on it as well," Hermione said.

"Of course not… but you've other plans as well. The Resistance is counting on you, right?" Ron asked. "Wouldn't do anyone any good if we fixate on the Horcruxes while Voldemort takes over Britain. In fact, if we could kill him again, finding ways to deal with the things might be easier since he'd be busy trying to come back again."

That was a good point, Harry thought. Even his godfather and their best female friend agreed, if slightly reluctantly and after a while. At least neither had issues with Harry and Ron getting recruited into a secret Order cell, as Hermione called it.

"Your parents don't know about that, do they?" she asked, with a grin.

Ron winced. "No, they don't. Mum's going to explode once she finds out."

"If she finds out," Harry said.

"She will," Ron said. "She always caught the twins. And you know how sneaky they are."

"That's hard to prove. If she didn't catch them, you wouldn't know about it," Hermione pointed out. "Although judging by what Sirius told me, she might have caught them every time."

Harry looked to Sirius, and a quick glance told him that Ron looked as confused as he felt. "What do you mean?"

"Molly went on a rampage after Ron's uncles were murdered," Harry's godfather said. "Killed her fair share of Death Eaters."

"You're kidding!" Ron said. "Mum did that?"

"You didn't know?" Sirius looked surprised.

"Of course not! She never told us anything about the war. Neither did Dad."

"Ah… I better not spill the beans then. No more than I already did. Wouldn't want to get her mad at me," Sirius said with a grin, and Harry couldn't tell how serious he was. To think of the witch who had taken him in as a…

"We're dead then. Dumbledore, and us," Ron said, staring at the floor. "Mum's going to kill us all."

"We'll blame Dumbledore," Harry said. Though he hoped that they wouldn't have to do that until after the war.

"Well… he did recruit you," Hermione said.

"We just don't have to mention that we were already helping you months ago," Harry said.

"Do you already know what you'll be doing?"

"Just that we'll be hunting the Horcruxes." Harry shrugged. "Nothing more than that, yet."

"I'll have a word with Dumbledore about that," Sirius said. Before Harry could protest, he continued. "Not to make him change his mind. But I want to be informed, and I want to help." Sighing, he added: "It's not as if I expect you to sit this war out. James and I were the same. Well, almost the same. James was chasing desperately after Lily in our sixth year and I was playing the field, so to speak." Harry's godfather chuckled.

The discussion was moving into areas Harry would rather not talk about. At least not right now. He glanced to his side. Hermione was pursing her lips.

Sirius must have noticed as well. "What's wrong, Hermione? Boyfriend trouble?" he added with a grin.

"No," the witch said, maybe a shade too quickly. "I just had to turn a boy down recently, and imagined how awkward that would have been if he hadn't accepted that I was not interested."

"Who was it?" Ron blurted out what Harry was wondering. "I mean… you don't have to tell us, of course."

It had to be one of the muggleborns, Harry was certain. Justin, or that Allan, maybe. Or Seamus or Dean.

"That's right. I don't ask you about which girls you turned down, do I?" Hermione said.

"Lavender." Ron said, then winced. "Err..."

"You…" Hermione started, then shut up.

This time she was blushing, and Harry felt another bout of jealousy. Was she blushing because of Ron? He wasn't certain what he should say.

Fortunately, Sirius came to his rescue. "Well, in my time, we didn't talk about who we had turned down, but who we had kissed, you know!" The older wizard shook his head. "Kids these days."

That broke the awkward mood.

Hogwarts, October 8th, 1996

Ron Weasley knew something was up with his best friend before the two apparated back to Hogwarts, or rather, to the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Harry had been acting a bit odd during the evening, moody despite visiting his godfather and Hermione. But the forest, even if you were not that far in, was no place for a discussion. So he waited until they were back in their dorm and sitting on Harry's bed, protected by a privacy spell in case Neville wasn't asleep yet, before he asked.

"Mate, what's eating you?"

"I'm fine."

Ron had expected that answer. Harry said that every time he was asked how he was doing, no matter if he was actually fine, or lying in the infirmary. "And I'm Malfoy."

That made Harry chuckle. Once.

"Seriously, mate. What are you brooding about?" Ron had an inkling, and a feeling he wasn't going to like it, but he was certain that letting such stuff fester was the worst thing he could do. He had learned that himself, in fourth year.

"Do you really want to know?" Harry asked.

He didn't. "Yes."

"Hermione." Harry stared at him with that expression that dared Ron to make an issue about of it.

Ron winced. Just as he had suspected. Known. Sighing, he let himself fall back on the bed and stared at the canopy over them. "You fancy her."

"Like you."

"She'd tell us that the middle of a war was no place for fancying anyone." Ron thought so at least. Though she had been… not flirting, he couldn't call it that. But a bit more open, maybe. Or he was just seeing things he wanted to see.

"She doesn't exactly know much about that, though." Harry snorted. "I'm certain there are books about it, but…"

"Yes." Ron snorted. Books didn't help much with feelings, in his experience. Although he wasn't Hermione. Maybe they'd work for her. He doubted that, though.

"Someone already asked her to become his girlfriend," Harry said. "Probably that Allan."

"He looked rather annoyed at us, when we met him," Ron agreed. "Though I think Dean or Seamus could have asked her out as well." Those two had bragged about girls for years. Mostly, but not entirely, hot air.

"She knows what they are like, and would have told us with a grin," Harry said. "Probably said something about how they are getting desperate."

Ron closed his eyes. That would have been like her. He could see her joke about it, but he knew she was rather insecure about her looks. Fourth year had taught him that. "So… Allan or Justin." Justin was rich, for muggles, and Allan was a Ravenclaw and older. Like Krum.

"She turned whoever it was down." Harry didn't sound that reassured.

"He had the guts to ask though." Which meant they might well ask again. Wear her down. That was, according to Sirius, how Harry's father had won his mother over. Ron winced. He shouldn't think about such things as winning. Hermione had commented about that once.

"He isn't her best friend," Harry said. Less to lose, in other words.

"Things were awkward today, for a while," Ron said. He didn't want to imagine every meeting feeling like that.

"Yes." Harry agreed, or so Ron thought.

They stayed silent for a while.

"Let's focus on beating Voldemort and his scum," Ron said.

"Alright, let's."

Ron wasn't expecting that to work for long. But it might be long enough.

Hogsmeade, October 11th, 1996

Albus Dumbledore didn't like visiting his brother's inn. Or his brother. Too much bad blood. Too many bad memories of past rows. Angry words. Painful wounds. He had resigned himself long ago to the fact that they would never reconcile. But needs must - there were more important things than pride, and past pain. Or not so past pain, he amended mentally, remembering his meeting with Aberforth a day ago. Or rather, the fight. Not an actual duel, of course - neither of them, not even at their worst, would use curses on each other. Not after Ariana had died to one. But it had been a spectacular blow-up, until his brother had seen reason, in private. For all the pain it had caused, it was also a good cover. No one would expect the headmaster to calmly sit in the inn but a day later, disguised with Polyjuice.

No one would expect the Muggleborn Resistance to be present, disguised by muggle means either. At least Albus was reasonably certain of that. He was here in case he turned out to have been wrong - with him involved, a fight between Aurors and the Resistance would be quickly over, and hopefully without loss of life. It was the least he could do for the young muggleborns, even if it would not absolve him of his guilt for failing to save Mister Coke.

He glanced at the witch at the bar. Tania Dennel. Gryffindor. She would have had her N.E.W.T.s now, if not for the Ministry's folly, and would probably be working in Diagon Alley, or at the Ministry - she was skilled in Charms, and in Defence. And the Hit-Wizards, as well as, if slightly less so, the Aurors, had been good places for muggleborns to start working. Or so he had thought. He might have been wrong about that, in hindsight.

Now she was wearing a rather risqué robe, a very blonde wig, and a face that looked too old for her while talking to Cory Briston, a half-blood employee of the Wizarding Wireless Network who was a regular of Aberforth's pub. Talking and touching, or letting herself be touched.

Albus didn't like seeing that, but it wasn't his plan. The Resistance had devised this. A 'honey trap', Miss Granger had called it. At least it was an actual trap. Miss Granger and Mister Emmet were waiting in one of the rooms upstairs. Mister Briston wouldn't be enjoying the night he obviously hoped for. Even though he'd have the memories.

Miss Dennel's hand had been on the wizard's arm for minutes now. And his on her thigh. Aberforth grumbled something, and the two jerked, Briston was even blushing. Then the witch took hold of his arm again, dropped a few coins on the bartop, and guided her mark upstairs. To her waiting friends.

Quite fortuitous timing, Albus thought, since a few minutes later two Aurors entered the pub. Or maybe the witch had received a notice from her friends keeping watch on the streets outside. The Aurors didn't seem to have noticed that they had passed under the wands of the very muggleborns they were hunting outside. The Headmaster wondered what they would do if they actually found a wanted muggleborn inside the inn. Aberforth and most of his regulars had despised the Ministry long before the recent events, and while his brother was not quite as talented as Albus himself, he was head and shoulders above the Ministry's finest. Although that was not well-known outside Albus's own constantly shrinking generation.

The two Aurors didn't look too closely at the guests though, and ignored the hostile stares they received before they left. He relaxed a bit. Now all he had to do was wait until Miss Granger and her friends were done and gone, and he could return to Hogwarts.

London, Diagon Alley, October 12th, 1996

Hardy's Hardy Hats was a traditional business in Diagon Alley. Hyacinth Hardy was the fourth Hardy to run the shop and craft hats with various enchantments. The first half-blood too, though that hadn't seem to matter when she had taken over the shop a decade ago from her pureblood father. These days, it mattered very much. Her shop was located in the midst of pureblood businesses, and there had been a few comments by passers-by that she hadn't liked at all.

But her neighbours knew her. Most of them had known her since she had been a little girl, sitting on her father's knee and trying to mold a hat by herself. Some of her childish attempts her parents still brought out for family gatherings. And one hung directly over her bed, in the flat above her shop. The first hat she had created that she had been able to wear.

And the first thing she grabbed when she was woken up by the alert from her wards that someone was trying to tear them down - after she had frozen for a moment, filled with fear. She was no Gryffindor. She was a hatter! She wasn't about to confront whoever was breaking into her shop.

A few shaky wand movements had her clothes and other belongings stuffed in her old school trunk, expanded since her Hogwarts days, and after two tries - the wards were falling - she managed to shrink it down as well. Then she ran down the stairs. Her fireplace was on the ground floor, and she didn't trust herself to apparate right now.

She was grabbing a handful of Floo powder when the wards fell, and shrieked when the door was blown open and a dark figure appeared in the entrance. A robed figure with a white mask! She almost missed the fire when she threw the powder, she was shaking so much.

"H-Hardy's Home!" she yelled, stepping inside. The wards on her parents' home would keep the Death Eaters from pursuing her.

Behind her, her shop went up in flames.

Outside Buxton, Derbyshire, United Kingdom, October 12th, 1996

Daphne Greengrass didn't like muggles. They dressed either like scarecrows, or indecently. None of them wore proper robes. And they walked or rode everywhere, instead of apparating or using the Floo Network. And they were everywhere. Even out here, far from the next muggle town, two women were running in far too tight clothes on the street.

"Have you seen them? Silly muggles," Tracey said next to her. Both were disillusioned, sitting near a thick, old tree, studying the house of Nigel Nye, a blood traitor member of the Wizengamot, across the street. The man had proposed a motion to pardon mudblood criminals, 'to focus on the real enemy of Britain'. He had limited his proposal to those mudbloods who had run from the Aurors, but Daphne knew that was just the beginning. They always started small, and then built up.

He would be stopped, though. As soon as they found a way to get past his wards. Which was the reason the two witches were out here, observing the blood traitor's house. Studying the wards. Looking for a weakness.

"Look, Daphne!"

Tracey tugged on her arm. Daphne turned her head, and saw a muggle vehicle approach the house.

"He has no Anti-Muggle Wards?" Daphne couldn't believe it. To go that far…

They saw the muggle get out of the vehicle, put down a basket on the doorstep, pick another basket up and leave. A minute later, the door opened, and Nye grabbed the basket.

"A delivery. By a muggle."

They had found the house's weakness.