Chapter Twenty-Four

Daphne Greengrass wished it were as simple as transfiguring her life into someone else's. She could easily glamour her features. After her younger sister, Astoria, had started at Hogwarts, both would take turns glamouring each other's faces for fun during school holidays. A change of hair or eye color there, a longer nose here, just enough to make their mother jump in fright when they appeared for supper.

Daphne wondered if her family would recognize her now with her hair pulled up in a ponytail, her glasses sliding down her nose from nervous sweat. No longer dressed in proper dresses and robes, she now wore dusty leggings and jumpers. She had desperately wanted to be free from the coming war if only to spend one more holiday playing tricks on her mother with her sister. She had blissfully taken the warning signs for granted while at Hogwarts.

But the war had found them even there and before she knew it, she had given her allegiance to the Light with a solemn vow to Hermione Granger. The Slytherin in her often thought of quietly slipping away from the newly-formed pack of Hogwarts' students, using her prowess with glamour charms to alter her physical features. Hermione's pack was too new. They fought amongst each other. Even the added presence of Mrs. Malfoy didn't abate her fear that the forces they faced were too powerful to overcome.

Her mind ran through the plausible scenarios: she could hide in neutrality until things died down, someplace far from the reach of the Dark Lord. But as soon as Professor Lupin had returned with grave news on the movements of Fenrir's pack, she found herself without hesitation jumping to run to her Lupa's defense, desertion far from her mind.

Daphne would go because her Lupa deemed it so. The mental pull of Hermione's call was hard to ignore; it could physically push her to her knees when backed by emotion, which currently ran at an all-time high. Even though she didn't know Hermione Granger well, Daphne would protect her as best she could.

That still didn't stop her Slytherin heart from beating a ridiculous pace as they Apparated away from Cardiff. It insisted on self-perseverance and to leave (she had her Apparition license, finally) the battle to soldiers who wanted to fight.

Daphne was not a soldier.

Blaise squeezed her hand briefly as their feet hit the cemented ground. They were off. Blaise held her hand as they ran, sending her a look of understanding as if he could read her fear and nervousness. Daphne tightened her free hand about her wand. She met his gaze and allowed him to pull her forward. On alert, they scanned the Muggle neighborhood for any danger; but to her, it was all strange and new.

If she had more time, Daphne would have taken the time to explore the quaint row of houses, decorated with odd items amongst the front lawns, but the group sped past vine-covered fences and large, steel carriages covered in glass parked in neat little rows.

She was not yet ready to fight. Her heart raced beneath her chest. They had just escaped a surprise attack at Hogwarts. There hadn't been enough time to recover from that attack and now, they had ushered into another. War did not grant them a reprieve and Daphne could only pray that her pack would emerge as victorious as before. More like lucky, she thought with a frown.

Running low to the ground, the pack hid behind one of the large steel carriages ("Cars," Blaise called them). They paused, listening for any sound of movement. Their heads whipped in various directions as they scanned the surrounding area. But all Daphne could hear was the pounding of her heartbeat about to burst from her chest. She stuffed the uneasiness of what was to come to the corner of her mind as Harry whispered orders to them all.

"Hermione's house is the next one over. We'll move in pairs. We don't want to alarm the Grangers," Harry spoke authoritatively.

Daphne could see the worry lines all over Hermione's face at Harry's mention of her parents. The curly-haired witch lifted her head over the end of the steel carriage, straining to peer into a house filled with light.

"It looks like they're home," Hermione murmured. "I'll go in first after we circle round."

"I don't think Fenrir's pack is here yet," Luna whispered, her pale hair reflecting in the moonlight. Daphne absentmindedly wondered why Luna didn't wear a hat. Her hair stood out like a beacon and would be the first thing to give them away.

"We would have smelled them as soon as we arrived, if they were," Draco answered, a sour look on his face.

"Still, we can't burst into my parents' house like this! They will know something's happened," Hermione persisted amid the discussion.

Hermione pulled on Daphne's mind, her urgency great. Her Lupa's presence weighed on the back of her skull, like a headache about to crest. Daphne and Luna, you two take the side, near the windows. Blaise, you're with Draco 'round back. Keep an eye out for anything suspicious. Blaise and Daphne, you're of age, so if you need to use magic you two strike first. No doubt the Ministry will find out sooner or later we're here, but I want to give us as much time as possible. Be on the lookout — Remus may have sent members of the Order as backup.

Then Hermione turned towards her mates, and Daphne could not hear as the trio spoke to each other, but she could tell by their grim features that whatever they were speaking about was serious. Daphne turned her head out of privacy at the intimate embrace they gave each other, and with a given hand signal, they were off.

Daphne and Luna took off to the right, while the others disappeared into the darkness. They did not run as not to draw attention to themselves but walked cautiously between the houses. Daphne carefully pushed her wand into her sleeve. She was very curious to peek inside the windows and determine how Muggles lived without magic. Luna seemed to have the same fascination as she, as both paused outside a window, attracted to the blue glare emitted from a large box inside one Muggle's parlor room. The box roared with moving pictures and the two blondes turned to peer at one another.
"Ingenious, these Muggles," Luna giggled quietly. "If only I have some quill and parchment. This would make a most excellent article for The Quibbler."

Daphne rolled her eyes playfully, quite aware of her partner's quirks. Quickly, she sobered as they moved on from the window. Remembering what they were there for, Daphne tugged on the witch's hand.

As the two skimmed the darkness easily, Daphne halted their steps. Both leaned against the house waiting for the other pair's call that all was clear. Hesitantly, Daphne whispered to Luna beside her, "Luna … have you ever thought about, you know … leaving?" She sounded like a frightened child, scared of the terror at night, but she was terrified at the moment. They stood against the brick siding, two figures cloaked in darkness. "Our families are out there," Daphne voiced her uneasiness into the air, hoping the night could mask her fear. "They don't know what's happened to us, where we've gone, if we're still alive …" she trailed off, her courage flitting away.

"Having a choice would make all of this easier, I suppose," Luna wondered beside her. "Harry would choose to have his parents back. Draco would choose … well, I suppose he would choose for many things to be different. I'm not sure about Blaise. He seems so easy-going, either way," she surmised distantly.

"So, you would choose this?" Daphne asked, her resentment evident. "To fight? We're not even out of school and we're facing off against werewolves and Death Eaters!" Daphne hissed into the night. "Why were we chosen and not someone else?"

Luna shrugged, although Daphne could not see it. "Did you know, in a single day, we make a thousand and one choices, Daph? Each and every one of them is by design, I believe. You are either meant to choose path A or path B. There's no going back and choosing the other path because you don't fancy the one you're on. You just have to keep pushing forward until you make a new one, you see. I don't find it odd that we're here and others are not. I think of my father sometimes," she finished abruptly, the change in topic throwing Daphne for a loop. There was a touch of nostalgia at the mention of her father.

Quietly waiting a moment for Luna to continue, the Slytherin asked thoughtfully, "Do you miss him?"

Again, Daphne could not see it, but Luna nodded beside her. "It happens to us all eventually. We're meant to move away from our childhood homes and build new families of our own." Luna placed a warm hand on Daphne's arm then. "Our family just found us a little sooner than the others." Daphne could hear the smile in the Ravenclaw's voice.

Blaise signaled that the perimeter was clear and in the little time remaining, Daphne pondered on Luna's words as they moved around the perimeter of Hermione's childhood home. It was not by any means a large estate, as Daphne was accustomed to in her world, but it was decent enough. The Grangers had accumulated some wealth judging by its appearances and tidy yard. They were two cars parked in front of the house and Daphne could only deduce they did not come cheap. She made a mental note to ask Blaise about them later.

Since Luna could not yet perform magic without the Ministry catching wind out it, Daphne performed the revealing spell. There were no other magical signatures present besides their pack. What if Lupin's intelligence from the DMLE had been incorrect? What if this was a trap to lure them away? Daphne's mind raced and the eerily calm neighborhood did nothing to appease her worries.

Harry and Hermione had already gone inside. The White Tie raced up the front steps and through the front door behind Draco. Daphne could only imagine the shock the Grangers had received at their daughter's sudden appearance. Whatever shock they experienced at seeing Hermione and her childhood friend, Harry, would only multiply at the influx of teenagers barging into their house at such a late hour.

Hermione's parents halted the intense discussion they were having with Harry and Hermione as their pack filed in. Blaise spoke clearly to them all, mindful not to alert the Muggles.

"Everything's clear outside," Blaise informed them.

"What's clear?" Hermione's mother asked, alarmed. Daphne noted she was a lovely older woman with dark brown chestnut curls. In fact, she did not look close to anything Daphne had pictured Muggles to be while growing up. She looked quite ordinary, in fact.

"Why wouldn't it be?" Her father pressed from beside his wife, his eyebrows drawn together in question and suspiciousness. "Hermione, what is going on? What's happened to your eyes?" He waved a hand to her supernatural eyes.

Hermione clearly hadn't had much success while Daphne and the others were outside. "There isn't time to explain, Dad. It's imperative that you and Mum leave now. We will bring you someplace safe. Just grab what you can and we'll come back for the rest later."

Mrs. Granger clucked in disapproval, much like Daphne's mother would when Mrs. Greengrass grew cross with her daughters. "I'm going to need more information than that, dear. We weren't due to pick you up from King's Cross for nearly a month and now you've arrived in the middle of the night stating your father and I need to leave? I don't understand. Who are these people you've brought with you?" She indicated to Daphne and the others.

Never believing the day would come, Daphne felt uncomfortable in the presence of a Muggle. A cold clip of her childhood superiority rushed to the surface, but a quick look from Blaise silenced her. He probably felt the same way, but they were here to help, not escalate the situation. So for the sake of progress, Daphne swallowed the emotion down.

Hermione looked pleadingly to the others that had joined the room and sighed. "A lot's happened at Hogwarts, Mum."
Her mother looked at her daughter shrewdly. "Does this have anything to do with that group you were fighting last year? The ones that nearly killed you?"

And even though Daphne wanted nothing to do with Death Eaters, she couldn't help but feel guilty at the mention of the Battle at the Department of Mysteries. While it was all over the papers last year, she remembered laughing at some crude remark Pansy had made about Hermione's injuries. Daphne didn't know she would become friends with the witch nearly a year later. The pureblood superiority she had casually let rule her life suddenly felt like an oppressing weight on her neck. It tasted like acid on her tongue.

Mrs. Granger looked at the White Tie as if they were responsible for the attack. It caused Daphne to look at the tips of her trainers. Her ears burned. Luna's earlier words on choices repeated in her head...

But gratefully, Hermione drew her parents' attention away from them. "Mum, they're with me. In fact, we're all here to protect you. There are some bad people headed this way." The urgency rushed back into her voice. "Which is why you have to leave now!"

"Well, just hold on a minute," her father interrupted, thin glasses steady on his nose. "Hermione, you've assured us that you were safe at school. In fact, Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore did as well. Why didn't you tell us about this latest attack?" her father questioned sharply. He missed the groups' simultaneous flinch as he named Hogwarts' Headmaster.

Hermione looked torn as she addressed her father. "It happened less than a week ago. Everyone in the magical world is trying to make sense of it … There's a lot you don't know. We're just beginning to find out for ourselves."

"Then tell us what do you know, young lady," Mr. Granger ordered. "If you want us to pick up everything we own and leave in the dead of night, then I'm going to need a thorough explanation." He sat on a chair, one half of a matching pair of wingback in the sitting room. His posture said he was ready for his daughter's explanation, whether she was ready or not.

After a glance at Harry, who nodded in return, Hermione took a deep breath, ready to explain all, but a shattering of glass tore a shriek from Daphne's mouth instead. Distantly, Daphne heard Hermione's scream as well.

"NO!" the witch screamed, but it was too little too late. A skinny black wolf had launched through the room's window. In the resulting confusion amid the spray of grass, the beast attacked the closest target to him — Mr. Granger. Teeth sunk into defenseless, exposed flesh and after a split-second of stunned disbelief, Harry reacted.

Mr. Granger slumped to the side, his eyes wide in terror while his mouth hung open in pain. The rogue wolf released him, blasted back through the house by a jet of light from Harry's wand.

Daphne screamed through her hands as inky torrents of rich, red blood spewed from Mr. Granger's neck. It stained the part of the chair crimson and dripped onto the floor. The wolf had torn a chunk of his neck out. Daphne knew instantly that it was a killing strike — no human, magical or not, could survive such an attack.

Mr. Granger slumped to the ground lifeless and Hermione and her mother screamed again horrified. Their hands desperately tried to cover their mouths and smother their shock. Draco and Blaise ran outside, positive the wolf was not alone.

Daphne could barely hear over the women's cries and she bit her lip to keep from grieving with them. Her vision turned watery as she watched the gruesome scene unfold before her. What was she to do? What was she to do? She turned her head at the gore and squeezed her eyes shut out of respect, but she couldn't stop her ears from hearing the anguished cries of Hermione and her mother.

Luna's hand suddenly grasped hers in support and nervously, Daphne turned to look at the Ravenclaw; the same watery sadness reflected in her light blue orbs.

The small moment of understanding would not last long as a fierce howl unexpectedly erupted from the back of the house. It came from a distance but sounded loud in their sensitive ears.

Instantly, the remaining teenagers jumped to attention as the howls inched closer.

It was a call to battle. Daphne wiped the sleeve of her jumper swiftly across her face and took a second to right her glasses.

Right. Choices.

She had made this choice, despite the events that preceded it. She had to be ready. Because there wasn't another path to choose when one equaled certain death.

Draco rushed back inside, his trainers skidding through the pool of blood on the floor. His eyes darted quickly from the weeping Hermione to Harry for guidance on what to do next. Daphne could see the ice storm whirling within Draco's silver orbs.

Before Draco could open his mouth, Harry nodded harshly. "Right. We'll cut them off." Harry's voice was thick with emotion.

Momentarily confused, Daphne realized the two must have spoken to each other telepathically. She watched as Harry gently stepped towards Hermione, his hands eager to hold her. He wrapped them lightly around her shoulders.

"Hermione, come on, love. We have to go," he whispered through tears. "It's not safe here," Harry eased carefully. He stepped in the blood seeping from Mr. Granger's fallen corpse.

"I can't leave him …" Hermione sobbed and the sound rent everyone's heart in two. The ricocheting pain from her Lupa made Daphne's heartache. Blaise shifted uncomfortably on his feet as Luna rubbed her chest gingerly.

They all felt Hermione's sorrow.

Harry dropped to a knee beside the grieving pair of women caught in anguished wails. He rubbed a comforting hand across Hermione's back and pressed his head into her shoulder as he whispered soothing words of comfort. "Hermione, I'm so sorry …" But Harry stopped short as the grief-stricken witch jerked forward, pushing his head off of her shoulder. Sorrow ran down her face, but it masked another feeling rushing towards the surface.

A budding resolution marked her distraught features.

"I'm sorry it's come to this," Hermione whispered back.

Harry jumped startled at her voice; it was a hollow thing, but Hermione wasn't speaking to him. She had turned to her mother. With an unyielding determination, Hermione lifted a shaking hand to the woman's temple.

The elder woman's sniffles abated as her curly head turned towards her daughter. "Hermione, what's going on ...?"

"Obliviate."

And the question died on Mrs. Granger's lips.

The elder woman's confused gaze melted into a blank stare. Hermione dropped her wand then, the shakiness clear in her voice. "G-go," Hermione pushed out, the panic returning as she hastily hoisted the woman by the arms from the ground. "GO! There's been an … an attack on your husband, Mrs. Wilkins! You have to alert the constables!"

She pushed the woman away from the grizzly scene with both arms. Tears still ran across splotchy cheeks. "Go, NOW!" she pleaded, emotion raw in her glowing eyes.

Daphne recognized the confusion all over the Muggle woman, but the sight of her husband on the floor propelled her from the room. Mrs. Granger, or Mrs. Wilkins now, didn't look back once at Hermione. The woman didn't realize she had just run from her only daughter. A daughter who had removed all traces of herself from the traumatized woman's life.

Hermione wiped the back of her sleeve furiously across her face. After a quiet moment, she murmured to them all, "Let's go." Hermione gave a reflective stare towards the body of her father, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. Then she looked up to the group, nodding. She sniffled loudly and walked out of the room. Her wand arm hung limply at her side.

Draco immediately followed and caught up with her. He gave a tight embrace across her shoulders and dropped a kiss to her forehead. Harry stuck like glue to her other side.

In awe of the intimacy and care the ame de loups exuded for each other, Daphne could only fall in line behind them with Luna and Blaise.

It was then that she noticed it. Little droplets of water were speckled across the wooden floor. Larger puddles appeared as they neared the front of the house. Where had the water come from? It wasn't raining outside. Daphne followed the trail with acute eyesight. The puddles stopped at Hermione, who stood on the porch of what-used-to-be her childhood home.

The witch's wand arm was sopping wet with water where it was dry a second ago. Water ran over her fist, down her wand, and onto the ground as howls on the night air grew louder.

Only Daphne knew from experience, it wasn't water.