A/N: As you dear, kind, and astute readers may have realized—it's only going to get more and more AU as we go on. Now, I chose Dolohov for a specific reason. In Ootp, when Harry's doing his internal monologue in the Department of Mysteries, he notices Dolohov and he mentions (in his head) that Dolohov killed the Prewett twins. It made sense to me that Dolohov would know exactly why they were being killed. During the First War, from what JKR has said or hinted, Voldemort made an effort to court powerful wizards. I can only imagine that he would have drooled all over himself at the thought of having a triad, and that his rage at being rejected wouldn't exactly be quiet. Therefore, it made sense that Dolohov, in this story, would see Hermione's wrist and know exactly what it meant. He would know that Hermione Granger, best friend to Voldemort's nemesis, was part of a triad. Will Voldemort and the Death Eaters make the same mistake that Sirius initially did and assume that the Golden Trio is a Golden Triad? Again, thank you so much for all of your amazing feedback. It's been such a pleasure to hear, er, well, see, your thoughts and ideas.

Dumbledore's office was an amazing room, but one that Hermione hadn't really seen as much of as Harry had, and for that, she was grateful. At the moment, she would rather be anywhere but here. She squirmed uncomfortably in her chair and nervously twisted the bracelet on her wrist. Her parents were sitting next to her, looking coldly at her Headmaster. They were less than amused to be informed that their daughter had managed to perform a sibling bond with her best friend, and that in the wizarding world her legal name was now Hermione Potter. They were also less than amused to learn that Sirius Black, who they had heard of as an escaped criminal, was now their daughter's legal guardian in the wizarding world because she was still a minor.

Thank Merlin, they didn't have to discuss the fact that she was sort of married. She didn't even want to think about how hurt and angry her parents would be about that. Apparently, the bond counted as a legally binding magical contract between the three of them, but it—thankfully—wouldn't send an automatic alert to the Ministry, nor would it legally change her name. Sirius explained that this was because in a bonding with multiple partners the bonded themselves would often choose what last name, if any, they would share. They could file a status change with the Ministry, it would be easy enough to prove the bond, but no one recommended that she do that any time soon. She might as well jump up and down in front of Voldemort and beg him to Avada her. She shook her head and tried to pay attention to her parents.

"We are her parents, she is still our daughter!" Her father practically growled at Dumbledore.

"Of course you are, and of course she is," Dumbledore soothed. "It's just that, we feel it might be safest for Hermione to spend her summer with Harry."

"But we've made plans! There's a conference in Budapest, we're taking Hermione with us," her mother said in shocked surprise.

"That sounds lovely," Professor Dumbledore said smoothly, but Dr. and Dr. Granger were angry and upset.

"I don't want to hear anymore! Hermione is staying with us this summer. She's our daughter, damn it. She's certainly not staying with some ex-convict!" Her father was almost frothing at the mouth now. Hermione closed her eyes miserably. She should have talked to them, first…explained things, but Harry had been so worried about her, and he'd wanted to help keep her safe. How could she say no to Harry? Not to mention Sirius with his stupid puppy eyes and Remus with his calm logic had convinced her that it was a brilliant plan.

"I'm sorry that you feel that way," Dumbledore said quietly. "You should know that Sirius Black was an innocent man, who was thrown in prison without a trial. He has been fully exonerated, and has retaken his place in our society. Perhaps, toward the end of the summer, you might change your mind."

"I highly doubt it," her father said coldly.

"Come on, Hermione," her mother said softly, and Hermione stood and followed her parents out of the Headmaster's office.

Two weeks later found her in Budapest sitting in the hotel restaurant waiting for her parents to get back from the conference. They had calmed down a lot since that meeting in Dumbledore's office. They weren't going to pull her out of Hogwarts. She'd received a panicked letter from Harry asking if that was a possibility, which she'd been forced to answer by an incessantly pecking Hedwig. Fred and George were not best pleased that they couldn't see her, and might not see her for the entire summer. It was so easy to tell when they received her letters, anger, hurt and frustration always shot down the bond. She missed them so much that she ached. Hermione sighed and rested her head on the back of the chair.

"Long day, dear?" Her mother asked carefully. Hermione opened her eyes and smiled slightly at her mother. Her father was looking at her with loving concern. It wasn't their fault, it really wasn't. They did love her.

"Yes, I've been trying to cram as many museums in as I can," Hermione said cheerfully. Her father smiled at that, and patted her hand.

Her parents had just sat down and picked up their menus when there was a scream of fear from the reception area. Hermione slid her wand out of her purse and unobtrusively slid it up her sleeve. She didn't really need the wand anymore, but the feel of it pressed into the flesh of her forearm was comforting and familiar. The back of her neck prickled uncomfortably and she moved immediately.

"Hermione? What are you doing?" Her mother asked in surprise.

"Get down, Mum," she whispered urgently.

"What are you talking about?" Her father asked in surprise.

"Please," she begged. "Get down."

Her parents tried arguing with her, which was perhaps not the wisest choice they could have made, but often people who have had no experience with war or trauma discount those who have as 'fanciful' or 'over-exaggerating the situation'. When Death Eaters entered the hotel restaurant, Hermione was not surprised. She wasn't feeling any emotion at all. She only felt numb. She knew something was coming, and her parents wouldn't listen. A Death Eater raised his wand toward a small child, and unthinking Hermione immediately cast a protego. For her efforts, a nasty hex was sent her way, and she ducked. She counted quickly and realized that there were six Death Eaters and one her. She cast a quick protego on her parents, tried frantically to thwart her attackers. Two flashes of green made her parents slump to the floor in front of her. She stared in horrified fascination at the floor. Three of the Death Eaters had their wands trained on her, and in sheer terror, she pulled heavily on the bond. She flung fireballs at the Death Eaters that had wands trained on her, and they screamed as they burned. Sickened, horrified at herself, Hermione fell to her knees and clutched at the bodies of her parents. She looked up at the remaining three death eaters and there was another fireball, spinning lazily in her hand. They turned and ran. Cowards, she thought at them, bitterly. She clung to her parents, sobbing for a minute, giving in to grief, and then she pulled back. She had to get out of here. Now. Where could she go? She couldn't apparate, she was still sixteen. She didn't even know where the Budapest magical community was, and she didn't know if any of them were in league with Voldemort. She couldn't wait to hear back from an owl, she needed to get to safety now. Feeling sick to her stomach, she dug through her dad's pockets and grabbed her mom's purse. She slipped their wedding rings into her mom's purse as well. Tears blinding her, she ran from the hotel.

She found her way to the train station after she'd quietly accio'ed her passport from the hotel's safe. She shook with grief and rage, tears streaming down her cheeks until she realized that she was staring at a rail map. She started laughing hysterically as she looked at the map. Several people looked at her oddly, and she knew she must look awful. She hurried to the ticket window.

"Do you speak English?" She asked uncertainly. Please. Please please please speak English.

"Little bit," the ticketmaster said gruffly, eyeing her tearstained face.

"One way ticket to, er, Brasov, Romania," she said quietly. They exchanged money and he pushed the ticket toward her.

"Train leave soon," he said gruffly. "You go, gate 4."

Hermione hurried toward gate 4, and boarded the train. She wished she knew how to cast a Patronus message. That was more advanced than just a Patronus, and she knew that Order members knew how to do it, but she hadn't thought to wheedle someone into teaching her. So, right. She couldn't apparate. She had no access to portkeys or floo networks of any kind. She supposed she could owl people, but she could just as easily do that from Romania. At the moment, it was her best bet. She knew that Brasov was in the mountains near the reserve, it was the closest muggle village. She would head toward the heavy wards of the reserve, use her triad's power to blast right through, and then somebody would come check on the wards and then she could talk to Charlie and then she'd get home to Fred and George and then she'd have a total nervous breakdown. As soon as she got home, she could fall apart. Just…not yet.

The summer had not been good to Fred or George so far. They had become increasingly short-tempered as the weeks dragged on and Hermione was no closer to coming to them. They had joined the Order immediately just to have something to do, and most nights found them hanging out at headquarters and moping with Sirius, and sometimes Remus. Fred was fidgeting, and George was slouched in a chair. They hadn't seen Hermione for almost a month, and it was starting to physically hurt. They had the bond, and that was fine, it told them that she was okay, but it wasn't the same. At the moment, they were prank swapping—who did it better, bigger, more impressively—and several of the stories had drawn laughter from the two younger men for the first time in weeks.

"And then, the Ravenclaws realized that it was a flobberworm, and—," Sirius was recounting his tale animatedly when Fred and George jumped to their feet wands out.

"What's wrong?" Remus asked urgently, on his feet and his wand out. Fred and George looked at each other in confusion.

"She's scared," they said with identical frowns, and then they fainted.

Fred blinked groggily, staring up into the worried face of his mother. Tears were rolling down her cheeks.

"Can you feel her?" She asked brokenly. "Is she still there?"

Fred shook his head, and put a hand to forehead. He frowned slightly, and then the bond slammed back and he wavered slightly. He glanced over at George who was still unconscious.

"She's there," he whispered. "Mum, she's terrified, and…and heartbroken…and she feels so guilty."

"Who do we have that can get to Budapest?" demanded Sirius, pacing furiously. Remus shook his head.

"I don't know," he said quietly.

"Charlie!" Fred said urgently. "He's in Romania, it's close. Closer'n us anyhow."

"Spitfire," George moaned, and Fred crawled over to him because he wasn't sure he could walk at the moment.

"'Sokay, George, I'm here," Fred mumbled and laid his head on his brother's shoulder.

"What's wrong with them," Molly asked, her heart in her throat. Sirius frowned.

"If I had to guess? Something bad happened in Budapest, and Hermione was forced to protect herself. She had to pull power from the bond, it made the twins pass out. When she released the energy, it backlashed into the bond and it's made the twins a little loopy." Sirius said slowly.

"That would be my guess. I'm not sure how they use the bond. They were going to show us how they do it, but Hermione hasn't been allowed to come see us yet." Remus said flatly. Molly nodded.

"Get Charlie," Fred said distinctly from the floor. George mumbled something that sounded like an agreement.

"Right," Remus said with a nod, and sent a Patronus message to Charlie. His floo response from Budapest was chilling.

"Sweet Mother of Merlin, Remus! It's a fucking war zone in their restaurant. Hermione…her parents are dead. From what the muggles say there were six Death Eaters and one of them tried to attack a little kid. Hermione tried to defend everyone, but there were too many of them. Then…they Avada'd her Mum and Dad, and I think she lost it because we've got three really crispy Death Eaters here. She's gone, she's not here. I can't find any trace of her." He spoke quickly, but his voice was worried.

"Fireballs," one of the twins said, from their position on the couch. "Greater Battle Magics. Been practicing."

"Bloody hell," Sirius said with a white face.

"Where would she go?" Remus asked plaintively.

"She's only sixteen. She can't apparate yet. Does she know how to contact the Hungarian wizarding community?" Sirius asked the twins. They shook their heads.

"Our spitfire wouldn't trust 'em anyway. She'd worry they had ties to You-know-who." The other twin said weakly.

"Okay, so no access to porkeys, floo networks, or any way to immediately contact us, at all. What would she do?" Sirius demanded.

"Panic?" One of the twins muttered dryly.

"Well, yeah, but then she'd go to the closest person she could think of,"

"which would be…Charlie."

"Fuck," Charlie swore. Molly's lips pressed together tightly, but she didn't reprimand her son. She pretty much agreed with him at the moment.

"You have to go back. As soon as possible. If you have no other way in, how do you get to the reserve?" Remus asked urgently.

"Brasov," Charlie said immediately. Remus nodded.

"Okay, go find her. Bring her home," Remus ordered.

"I'm on it," Charlie said determinedly, and the link went dead.

F/H/G/F/H/G

The village of Brasov was high in the Carpathian Mountains, and the air smelled crisp and clean. Hermione looked down at her dirty clothes and rubbed a hand over her face. She stumbled as she moved off the train, and wandered toward the signs for the women's washroom. The mirror was not her friend, she decided. She looked awful. Her face was blotchy, there were bags under her eyes and tear tracks on her face. She brutally scrubbed her cheeks with icy water because apparently 'hot' wasn't an option. She sighed and stared at her face. She could feel more tears trying to escape and shook her head fiercely. No breaking down yet. She wasn't home. She wasn't with Fred and George. First she had to go break into a Dragon Reserve. She left the women's washroom and walked right into a wall.

"Ow," she muttered and rubbed her nose tenderly. The wall moved. It turned and there was a concerned face peering down at her.

"Eşti bine?" asked a polite man's voice.

"I'm sorry, I don't speak Romanian," she said in a small voice.

"You okay? No hurt?" He said slowly and carefully.

"I'm okay. I'm not hurt." She gave him a slightly watery smile.

"Bun." He nodded politely to her and moved on.

"Hermione?" She heard someone calling her name frantically and she turned to look.

"Charlie? Oh, Charlie!" She was racing across the platform and flying into her sort of brother-in-law's arms. He cradled her against his chest and let her cry all over his shirt.

"Shhh. It's okay, love." He said soothingly and patted her back.

"It's not," she wailed into his chest. She stared up at him and whispered fiercely. "It's not! My parents are dead, and…and…I killed people."

"I know," he said quietly. "Now, I've got a portkey, and we're going to go see Fred and George, yeah?"

"Really?" Her eyes begged him to tell her the truth.

"Yes. They're going spare not having you about. Bit pathetic, really." Charlie tried to tease her, but Hermione wasn't quite there yet. She started sobbing brokenly, and seemed to go limp against him. Well, hell. "C'mon, love, grab the nice portkey."

She grabbed it.

Charlie was standing in an alley near Grimmauld Place, carrying a still sobbing Hermione in his arms. He shifted her weight slightly and hurried out of the alley and toward Headquarters.

"It's okay, honey, really it is. We're almost there. You can feel 'em, right? That's what they said anyway," Charlie muttered this last bit under his breath.

"They're going to hate me," she wailed into his chest. "I'm a monster!"

"Hardly," Charlie muttered.

"But…but I," she began and Charlie shifted her again.

"They know. I was in Budapest, I told them. Does it feel like they hate you?" Charlie demanded.

"N-no." She whispered.

"Well, there you are. And here we are." Thank Merlin. Crying women were not in his comfort zone.

The door was flung open violently, and Charlie heard a pained groan that sounded a lot like Sirius.

"Remind me to stop trying to get between them and Hermione," he heard someone gasp out.

"Hermione!"

"Spitfire!"

Hermione was snatched out of Charlie's arms and whisked upstairs faster than he had realized was possible. He blinked uncertainly at the people left in the doorway.

"Hello, Mum," he said with a grin.

"Oh, Charlie!" Molly hugged him tightly and pulled him into the house.

"Can someone please help me up?" Sirius groaned from the floor.