A/n: Well, apparently I'm writing another one! This will be a multi-chap war fic. There is more information below about the time and setting. As always, I owe a huge thank you to the wonderful Maeghan (occupymalfoysbed on tumblr) for betaing!

Song rec for this chapter: Sleeping at Last – Bright and Early

Details: This is set 8 years after the Battle of Hogwarts, with Voldemort and the majority of the Death Eaters retreating after Nagini, the final Horcrux, is killed by Neville. All the events leading up until that moment in Deathly Hallows (including Harry no longer being a Horcrux and the destruction of the Horcruxes) still happened, but the events after (such as Bellatrix's and Voldemort's deaths) did not. The war is ongoing and has left Great Britain, both Muggle and Magical, in tatters. Other plot points, such as the Elder Wand and post-Battle of Hogwarts deaths, will be explained in the fic. This fic also ignores the events of The Cursed Child. Hope you enjoy!

TW: There will be references to rape, sexual assault, and violence in various chapters, not linked to the main pairing (dramione) but other main characters. I will out TWs at the beginning of chapters to which these apply.

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In the Cruel Northern Mist

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Chapter 1: Monotony

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The familiar creaks and groans of the caravan began to rouse her, and a vigorous blast of wind rattled the flimsy walls, creating a loud, scraping metallic sound that was impossible to sleep through. With a resigned huff, Hermione pushed her bushy hair out of her eyes and stretched her arms high above her head. Outside, the grating squawks of the seagulls served as a final, shrieking alarm and she arched her back to ease her stiff spine. But she had misjudged how close to the edge of the small bed she was, and she tumbled off it, falling into the tower of books at its side.

Landing on her backside in a tangled cluster of tattered blankets and books, she groaned into the back of her hand. Yes, she had volunteered to take one of the single-berth caravans with a tiny single bed, but she should have probably considered how much space her books would take up. Yanking herself up to her feet, she tiptoed around the clutter, grabbing her wand from atop another precarious tower of books and waving it over the mess until everything had returned to its original place.

Changing into some clothes (a pair of a jeans and a thick, brown, battered jumper), she pushed open the caravan door and was instantly greeted by a strong, salty wind and the grey sea. The waves were high and wild today, typical of January, but she quite liked them like this. After eighteen months of living at the caravan park with the rest of the Order, she found that when the sea was blue and settled, it made her uneasy.

They had found Penlan Y Mor caravan park in August of last year, hidden away on the west coast of Wales between two small towns: New Quay and Aberaeron. It was tucked behind some hills, away from the main road or any real civilisation. After losing a battle to the Death Eaters at their old base, a large bed and breakfast just outside of Derby, they had been forced to relocate, and Dennis Creevey had suggested west Wales, as he knew the area from a few holidays with his family.

It was a small caravan park with only about fifty static caravans, and it was adjacent to a large farmhouse that Hermione assumed the owners had once lived in, although it had been abandoned long before they arrived. Beside the farmhouse was a set of stables and a couple of barns that they had concerted into living quarters, providing plenty of space for the Order's 147 members. Close to the sea, near enough to a couple of towns but with enough space and privacy, it had been the ideal hideaway so far, and Hermione liked how it reminded her of some childhood holidays of her own.

There was little joy to be found in the world at the moment, but a small wave nostalgia sometimes gave her a momentary sense of warmth, like a secure embrace.

She was staring out at the tempestuous sea and dark, heavy clouds when the door of one of the larger caravans about ten metres away opened, and she smiled as Ron staggered out, cursing under his breath and wearing his jumper inside out.

"Good morning!" she called.

"Yeah, good bloody morning," he grumbled, making his way towards her.

"Did the seagulls wake you?"

"I learned how to sleep through them years ago. No, try a two-month-old with a scream like a mandrake."

Hermione's smile widened. "Well, that's what babies do, Ron."

"I know, but Hugo is something else," he sighed, scratching the back of his head and smothering a yawn. "Come on, I need some tea or I'll fall asleep at the meeting."

"What about Katie?"

"She's settling Hugo. Don't look at me like that, Hermione, it's her turn."

They headed for the farmhouse, keeping their voices hushed as they seemed to be the only ones who had stirred. Only the dogs were alert; there were twenty or so strays that had been adopted by the various members of the Order over the past eight years, and Hermione paused to pet a few on the way. Glancing around, she made a mental note to check the wards and cast a few Mending Charms on the tired, rust-eaten caravans after the meeting in the house.

The five-bedroom farmhouse itself had become the communal area of their camp, housing most of the resources, including drinking water, food, and magical items that they had managed to collect over the years. For the most part, people prepared their own meals in their caravans, but every now and then, small groups would gather around the long dining room table, as though it was a makeshift cafe. The large living room was also were they conducted their meetings.

On the upper floor, Harry, Ginny, and their two-year-old, James, lived on one side, using three of the bedrooms and Kingsley lived on the other side, using the other two bedrooms, although Hermione knew that Kingsley sometimes slept in one of the small caravans when James was having a restless night.

"We'll need to go shopping again soon," mumbled Ron, perusing the cupboards. "We've only got enough for a few more days and we've already used the Doubling Charm so we're pushing it with the expiration dates."

"I think that's what the meeting is about today," said Hermione."I reckon we should try Aberporth again. I was reading one of the tourist guides and there were a few shops we missed, and it's not too far."

Ron nodded with agreement. "I don't like when we go to big towns and cities. That place we went last time felt sketchy. What was it called again?"

"Llanelli."

"Yeah, I'm not going to even bother trying to pronounce that properly."

Hermione giggled and prepared two cups of tea. "I could do with a change of scenery, though. Our last shopping trip was over a month ago. Really, I could do with a trip to Hogwarts for more books."

Ron scoffed. "It's way too dangerous at the moment, you know that. You can't have finished all the ones you got in November already. You got about sixty books!"

"I know, but some of them weren't relevant to Horcruxes."

"You're telling me you haven't found anything useful in them?"

"No, I did find some useful things," she explained. "Bathilda Bagshot wrote a book on the Gaunt family, and there were some possible family artifacts that You-Know-Who might have used aside from the ring. I also found some old transcript where someone alleged they were Salazar Slytherin's love-child and they had been gifted his wand upon his death."

Ron tiled his head and sipped his tea. "Sounds pretty promising to me."

"It's all just theories, though. I need something concrete." She hesitated and sighed. "It's been eight years."

"Yeah, but don't do that to yourself, Hermione. Those first three years, we barely had a chance to sleep, let alone read and research. We were so busy fighting and trying to evacuate the Muggles. Everyone knows you're trying your hardest. It's not like the rest of us would have a bloody clue."

"I just thought it would all be over by now."

"I'm sure it will be soon," said a new voice.

Both Hermione and Ron turned to greet Ginny, who was clad in a pair of loose pyjamas and a grey once-white robe. James was perched on her hip, groggily rubbing his eyes with a scrunched up fist and toying with a lock of Ginny's long red hair with his other hand.

"Good morning, Gin," smiled Hermione. "Tea?"

"Yes," she replied. "A large one, preferably. I didn't get enough sleep."

"Tell me about it," said Ron, gulping down his tea. "Bloody kids, right?"

"No, it wasn't James, it was Harry. He and Kingsley were up late talking about this bloody meeting today. Merlin forbid either of them cast a Silencing Charm on the room. I was going to cast a Muffliato on myself, but I need to be able to hear James. It was a proper pain in the arse."

"What time did they stop talking?" asked Ron.

"Not until about two in the morning," said Ginny, frowning. "And it was more like arguing."

"Arguing?" repeated Hermione, passing her friend a mug of tea. "That's not like them."

"They've had a couple of squabbles recently."

"About what?" asked Ron.

"Mainly about the war," said Ginny. "Shacklebolt doesn't think we're ready for a confrontation with the Death Eaters to try and get more information about the Horcruxes, but Harry thinks we should."

Ron tilted his head with consideration. "I guess it has been a while. It's been, what, five months?"

"Yes, but we are nowhere near ready," said Hermione. "Look what happened last time, and Luna, Bill, and McGonagall still haven't fully recovered."

"Yeah, but-"

"Oh, don't you two start," snapped Ginny. "This is exactly what they've been bickering about. You can chat about it all in the meeting this afternoon."

Ron shrugged and held out his arms to hold James, cooing at him in a high-pitched voice and trying to get him to say who his favourite uncle was, but Hermione rubbed her lips together pensively and stayed silent. Something uncomfortable was tugging at her stomach. Ron was right; they had been inactive for nearly five months now, but their last battle with the Death Eaters at Little Hangleton had been disastrous. They had lost four Order members. Four friends. Penelope Clearwater, Ernie Macmillan, Seamus Finnegan, and Professor Trelawney; all killed in bursts of violent green light.

In the past two years alone they had lost twelve people, including Hagrid, Molly, Madam Pomfrey, and Oliver Wood. The Death Eaters, on the other hand, had only lost four members in two years: three had been Obliviated and killed by Voldemort himself when their usefulness expired and Yaxley had been killed in a building collapse.

And all of these deaths and battles hinged on one thing: finding the Horcruxes.

After Neville sliced off Nagini's head and Voldemort retreated from Hogwarts, the Order had attempted to track him down multiple times to finalise the victory, but they had been unsuccessful. It was only sixth months after the Battle of Hogwarts, when Blaise Zabini defected and turned up at Grimmauld Place with information and a heavy conscience, that they realised the battle was far from over.

After using some Veritaserum and Legilimency to confirm his intentions and loyalties, Blaise told the Order that Voldemort had created three new Horcruxes, and while he didn't know what they were, he knew that Voldemort had visited Little Hangleton, Hogsmeade, Diagon Alley, Chester, and somewhere in the Pennines in the months after the Battle. Since then, the Order had travelled back and forth to those places, hunting for clues about what the new Horcruxes could be, and although Hermione had made some progress, it wasn't enough.

It would never be enough until all of this was over.

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With forty of the Order's 147 members huddled in the meeting room, Harry and Kingsley sat at the head of the table while Hermione sat between McGonagall and Ron at Harry's right side, as they always did. Others in the room included Fred, Arthur, Bill, Fleur, Blaise, Flitwick, Slughorn, Neville, Luna, and Ginny, to name a few, and they all chatted amongst themselves, waiting for Harry to call the beginning of the meeting whilst a few late arrivals filtered into the room.

"How are you feeling?" Hermione asked McGonagall.

"Oh, fine, my dear," she replied. "Almost as good as new, which is a relief. Saying I had a broken hip made me feel so old."

"If we'd been able to brew any Skele-Gro it would have been a lot faster."

"It's no worry. Don't tell the others, but I quite enjoyed being fussed over for a couple of months."

Hermione chuckled just as Lee Jordan entered the room, and then Harry knocked on the table a couple of times and hushed the room, waiting for silence. A palpable silence engulfed the room, and it was only then that Hermione noticed how tense Kingsley looked. His shoulders were stiff and his eyes were sullen with dark shadows beneath but, most notably, he was leaning away from Harry.

"Afternoon, everyone," greeted Harry with a nervous grin. "Um...I've asked for a meeting today because we need to have a chat about what our next move is going to be. Kingsley and I have been chatting, and we've been unable to reach an agreement, so we decided to see what you guys think."

"This may require multiple discussions," added Kingsley. "We shouldn't be rushing this decision or taking it lightly."

A flicker of impatience flashed in Harry's green eyes. "Kingsley and I have been...chatting about this for a few days and we've been unable to decide whether or not we should attempt another search of Little Hangleton."

Hermione could practically feel the sense of dread descend upon the room, and she glanced around the table, studying the others' expressions. Some seemed intrigued, while others seemed anxious just hearing the suggestion.

"Why Little Hangleton?" asked Blaise quickly. "We've tried there a few times already and we know the Death Eaters have set up intruder charms. Why not try the Pennines again? We didn't really do a thorough search up there."

"He might have a point," agreed Hermione. "What about Chetster? We know that Salazar Slytherin was raised in a little village near there. He could have found some of Slytherin's other artefacts."

"Ugh, Slytherin," grumbled Ron, but then he flinched with embarrassment. "No offence Blaise and Slughorn...Oh, and you, Andromeda." Tracey Davis cleared her throat and Ron's cheeks reddened. "Crap, sorry. Old habits and all that. But going to Chester isn't a bad idea."

There was a low mumble of agreement, but Harry shook his head and raised his voice. "I just think the fact that they set up intruder charms in Little Hangleton means there must be something there."

"So, you're basically asking us to battle against the Death Eaters again?" asked George bluntly.

"Well, we don't know if the intruder charms are definitely still active there," said Harry. "It's been a few months-"

"And the last time we went there, we got battered," said Blaise, his eyes dark and flashing over to Luna for a moment. "I'm telling you, the intruder charms will still be there. The Taboo on his name has been active for almost six years now, so why would he remove the intruder charms?"

"Four people died last time we went there," muttered Luna with a sigh. "I was nearly killed."

"But you weren't," said Harry gently. "You made it back home and-"

"But we don't even know how she made it home," interrupted Blaise, subtly glancing at Luna. "She had that memory wiped, just like Dean Thomas did the year before, and we haven't got a bloody clue why."

"I still think it's possible we have an ally on the inside," suggested Hermione.

"Or perhaps it's all part of some plan they have," argued George.

"No, I checked them both thoroughly. I would have found any spells or curses."

"Of course you would have, Hermione," said Luna, smiling softly at her. "I'm sorry, Harry, I just don't know if it's a good idea to go back there."

"It's a suicidal idea," grumbled Blaise. "We would be ambushed, and even though we slightly outnumber them at the moment, they would have the advantage-"

"Then how else would you propose we make progress?" snapped Harry, frowning at Blaise. "I'm telling you, I know something is there! They must be protecting something and we have done nothing for months!"

"Harry does have a point," said Ron. "We need to be doing more otherwise we're never going to win."

"I agree," said Neville, nodding his head vigorously.

"Yeah, I think we should go," said Dean. "All we're doing at the moment is surviving."

"Some would say surviving is enough," whispered Andromeda.

"But we're at war," said Harry firmly. "And if they do ambush us, then we just use the Portkey rings Hermione made."

Hermione glanced down at the ring crowning her index finger. She had invented the item three years ago and all of the Order members wore one. Each was specifically charmed to their owner and worked in a very similar way to a Portkey, except this one would have to be pinched to be activated rather than simply touched, and it only responded to its owner. Anyone else touching it or touching a person who was wearing it would not be transported, and she had spent over a year perfecting the rings, ensuring there was no possible way the Death Eaters could discern their destination or how they had been created.

"Most of us had the rings last time," said Shacklebolt. "We still lost people."

"But we won't this time," argued Harry vehemently. "At the first sign of danger, we come back home."

"I think Luna, McGonagall, and Bill should stay home," said Ginny. "They're not fully healed."

"I agree with that," nodded Fleur, holding her husband's hand. "But I do think we should be doing something. It's certain they have been attacking more Muggle towns and villages."

"They have," said Harry. "Kingsley spoke to our contact at the Muggle parliament today and two more towns in Norfolk have been destroyed. Most of the county was evacuated a couple of years ago, but there were about twenty casualties."

"Well then we've got to fight, haven't we?" stated Neville, his tone determined.

"Shouldn't we be sending a small group to see if there are any survivors in Norfolk?" asked McGonagall. "We could help them get to the Muggle evacuation zone in Dover."

"When I said destroyed, I mean completely destroyed," replied Harry. "It's all gone, McGonagall."

"Well, then we ought to be doing something," said Neville. "Harry's not asking us to fight. He's asking us to search Little Hangleton. It might be a risk, but there's always a risk."

"It's too high a risk," said Blaise.

"Could we not send out a scout or something to inspect it first?" asked Hermione.

"That sounds like a sensible idea," said McGonagall.

"It might alert them, like when we sent George up to Durham," replied Harry. "They turned up twenty minutes after he said it was clear, remember?"

"Yeah, that seems just as risky," said Dean. "We might as well just go together."

"Like Harry said, we can always use the Portkeys," said Neville. "I think we should go."

A heavy, brooding silence swallowed the room for a moment, and Hermione shifted in her seat, catching Luna's sad eyes. Hermione wasn't sure how she really felt about Harry's idea herself. Of course she wanted the Order to make progress, but just the mere mention of Little Hangleton made her stomach flip, and she believed Blaise was correct about the intruder charms. It all just seemed too much of a gamble for one of Harry's hunches, even if they had been correct before.

"We should vote on it," said Harry suddenly. "That's the only way we'll reach a decision-"

"Hold on," interjected Shacklebolt. "We said we could spend a couple of meeting discussing this."

"Harry's told us everything we need to know, though," said Dean. "A vote seems fair."

"Yes, that seems fair," agreed Fleur.

"Okay," said Harry, rising to his feet. "All those in favour of going to Little Hangleton, lift your hands."

Hermione held her breath and scanned the room quickly, counting the raised hands. There were twenty-four. Her own hands were braced in front of her on the table, and she lowered her eyes, ignoring the disappointed glance from Harry. Instead, she shared a few concerned looks with the other opposers, including McGonagall, Luna, Shacklebolt, and Blaise. Their expressions were morose, their brows wrinkled with premature worry and their mouths tight with more unvoiced protestations.

"Twenty-four," announced Harry, nodding with satisfaction. "We'll ask the others, of course, but it looks like we're settled."

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That evening, a couple of hours after the sun had sunk behind the horizon and stars were blinking in the sky like cats' eyes, Hermione was sat on a brittle log beside a dying campfire. This spot had once been a little picnic area overlooking the beach, but they tended to use it now for barbeques in the summer or as a little park for the children. With her sat Luna, who had been staring silently into the flames for the past few minutes, her grey eyes still dull despite the fire's reflection in them.

"Are you okay, Luna?" asked Hermione.

"Oh, I'm fine," she replied absently. "I know this sounds awful, but I'm glad I won't have to go back there. I just wish no one did."

"It will be fine."

"I'm not so sure it will be."

"Me neither," said a new voice, and both of the witches turned as Blaise emerged from the darkness and sat down on the log beside Luna. "That was a big shit-show today."

"I thought you argued it well, though," said Luna quietly.

"Didn't make much difference in the end," he grumbled. "They just finished asking the others and we're definitely going."

Luna exhaled heavily and massaged her brow. "I think I might head to bed. The fire is hurting my eyes."

"Do you want me to walk you?" asked Blaise.

She simply shook her head, her blonde hair falling out of her loose ponytail as she headed toward her caravan, muttering a barely audible, "Goodnight."

"You know, you could ask her out," suggested Hermione once her friend was out of earshot.

Blaise gestured to the space around them. "Ask her out where? The fucking barn?"

"You know what I mean. I know you like her. Hell, everyone knows. She likes you, too."

"No, she used to. Not anymore. Not since she was captured. She's...darker now."

Hermione grimaced at the truth in his comment. "She's still recovering. Give her time."

"I'm not going anywhere," he replied. "Despite Potter's rash decision today."

"Luna was right; you did argue your case very well."

"Thanks for backing me up, Granger. I can't bloody believe they're going back after what happened last time."

Hermione shrugged her shoulders. "What can you do? We took a vote. It was all fair."

Blaise scoffed. "Yes, but democracy only works when the majority aren't stupid."

"They're not stupid. They're just desperate."

"That's the same thing during war."

"Did you just call my husband stupid?" asked Ginny, appearing from the shadows, her red hair catching the flames and illuminating her face, as she smiled playfully. "Only I'm allowed to call Harry stupid."

"I noticed you didn't raise your hand," said Blaise.

"It's a wife's prerogative to disagree with her husband sometimes. To be honest I was undecided, so I didn't think it was fair for me to vote for going."

"I'm sure Harry loved that," remarked Hermione.

"Well, he's having a bit of a strop, but he'll calm down. I thought I heard Luna's voice here earlier."

"She went to bed," explained Blaise.

"Ah, are you pissed off because she didn't invite you?" teased Ginny, grinning broadly.

Blaise rolled his eyes and got to his feet. "Right, goodnight, you two."

"Oh come on, Zabini, I was only joking."

"Sod off, Weasley," he retorted, heading away from them.

"I'm a Potter now!"

"That's bloody worse!"

Both Hermione and Ginny laughed as he disappeared and Ginny scooted closer to Hermione, wrapping her arms around her friend's shoulders. The two witches had grown so much closer over the last few years and often sat here, nattering away about Harry and Ron's silly moments, or sometimes losing themselves in nostalgic conversations about Hogwarts or Christmas at the Burrow. Sometimes they wept on each others' shoulders about lost friends, or Molly, or simply because their reality was so very cruel at the moment. But they also laughed, and those were the moments that eased Hermione's troubled mind.

"I guess that's two men I've pissed off today," chuckled Ginny. "I'm on a roll!"

"Oh, bless him, he looked so embarrassed," said Hermione, stifling her own giggles. "It really isn't his day."

"No, but then all three of us didn't get our way today, I suppose. Harry said he was hoping to search Little Hangleton as early as next week."

All the humour drained away from Hermione's face. "I've got a bad feeling about this one, Gin. It all feels very...rushed."

"It will be okay," said Ginny. "We are more prepared than last time, and your rings are a lifesaver."

Hermione looked away from her friend and gazed out at the lonely moon, hanging suspended in the navy sky like a pendulum. She sighed heavily and hugged Ginny a little tighter. "I hope you're right, Gin."

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A/n: I've started another one...I just couldn't help myself and the plunny was too persistent to ignore! DWADE is not abandoned, and thank you for all your reviews on that! I hope I've intrigued you with this first chapter! Let me know what you think! Read and review and all that jazz!

Bex