Note: This chapter written by floorcoaster.

SIDEWAYS

Chapter 2

Harry scowled and opened the door. "Get in here."

Hermione and Draco exchanged a surprised, troubled look. Draco motioned for Hermione to go first, and she could feel Harry's anger rising. Grimmauld Place looked mostly the same as she remembered it. She wanted to clear the air with Harry as quickly as possible, but he started in on them before he'd even closed the door.

"What the hell were you thinking, Malfoy? You specifically went against orders and, like always, you just did what you wanted to do!" Harry got in Draco's face, fire in his eyes. "Why can't you just follow orders like you're told? Doing whatever the fuck you want is how people die, Malfoy!"

Hermione put her hand on Harry's arm, but he jerked out of her hold and rounded on her. "And you! I thought you hated working with him! We had a plan! But you two have botched it! What do you have to say for yourself?"

She'd never heard Harry speak quite so harshly, but then, she had no idea what was going on. "Harry, I need you to listen to me."

He glared at her, breathing very hard, and seemed ready to yell at them again, but then he balled his fists and let out a string of curses. "Fine. Out with it." He crossed his arms over his chest in obvious annoyance.

Hermione sent Draco a sideways glance. He unhelpfully shrugged. "Harry, this is going to sound completely crazy, but I need you to listen to me. To really hear me. Alright? Do you promise to do that?"

He snorted but eventually nodded.

"We've been through some strange things, you and I." She took a deep breath. "But this will probably be the strangest. Harry, Malfoy and I… we aren't from here. We have no idea what's going on. We both just… appeared here somehow. After being up too late last night writing a report, I woke up to sounds of explosions outside my flat. Explosions, Harry! In London! And then I made my way outside, watching other people openly carrying guns and pistols and swords. Swords! And I could see the lights from spells, and it quickly became obvious that wizards were fighting Muggles. But when I went to bed last night, Harry, the International Statute of Secrecy was still firmly in place."

Harry scrunched up his nose. "The what?"

"Bloody hell," Draco muttered.

"Somehow, I have no idea how, Draco and I were taken from where we were and brought here. My guess is that we were exchanged with the Hermione and Draco you know. It's all very theoretical, but as part of my work in the Department of Mysteries, I've been reading about this lately—about parallel universes—and that's my best guess for what has happened. Though… I have no idea how or why."

Harry was still scowling but something in his eyes had lightened slightly. "The Department of Mysteries? What's that?"

She felt a brief well of panic but pushed it aside. "Nevermind that. Tell us what's happening, Harry. Why are wizards and Muggles fighting?"

"You really don't know?" Harry's eyes widened when she shook her head. "You expect me to believe this? What if you were captured and they're making you say these things?"

Hermione took his hands in hers and pleadingly looked him in the eyes. "Harry, if we're friends here in this place at all, you have to trust me."

Harry glanced warily from her to Draco and then back. "All right. I'll go along with this. What do you want to know again? Why we're fighting Muggles?"

"Yes. Start there please."

He motioned for them to go into the sitting room, and Hermione winced, noticing Draco favoring his hurt leg. Everyone got as comfortable as they could, and Draco remained standing, his wand hanging loosely in his hand.

"I suppose the simple answer to your question is because of Voldemort."

At that, both Hermione and Draco gaped at him. "What?"

"You really don't know, do you? Well, yeah, he got it in his head—oh, what, twenty-some years ago?—that England would be better off without Muggles. He's been building an army ever since. A lot of wizards agree with him. Muggle-wizarding relations have been on a steady decline ever since Grindelwald joined up with Hitler, and Voldemort has just made everything deteriorate exponentially, especially in the last ten years. He's recruited witches and wizards from all over Europe to his side, and even from farther corners of the world. London is the epicenter of the war, but there are battles being fought across the globe."

It was a lot to take in, but Hermione knew it was only the beginning. "I see. And, um, what side are you on? Is there an Order?"

Relief flashed across Harry's face. "You know about the Order."

"We had one where I'm from. It was started by—"

"Albus Dumbledore!" Harry jumped up and clapped his hands. "Yes! Many years ago. I'm in the Order! We're trying to work against Voldemort while also not being killed by Muggles. It's a very precarious position to be in, but Dumbledore feels strongly that if we can establish strong relationships with Muggles and work with them against Voldemort, we can regain much of the trust that has been lost between our two kinds."

"I'm sorry." Draco cleared his throat. "Did you just say Dumbledore feels strongly? As in, right now? Today?"

Hermione turned to him and saw his blank expression; she knew he had to be feeling all kinds of conflicting emotions.

Harry looked between them, then fixed a rigid stare at Draco. "Um, yes. He's the leader of our movement. I just saw him last night—when he ordered you to stay put."

Draco swallowed hard and returned to looking out the window.

She couldn't even begin to wrap her mind around all of the things that could be different here. She'd have to try to sort that out later.

Then Harry looked at her again. "Wait, you said you had an Order where you're from."

"Yes. But it was no longer needed once Voldemort was defeated."

The air seemed to deflate out of Harry and he sank into an armchair. "Defeated?" His voice was barely above a whisper. "How?"

Hermione sat down on the nearest chair to her friend. "You defeated him, Harry. At least, the Harry where we're from did."

His eyes went wide with horror. "Me? But… but why?"

"He killed your parents," she said softly.

"My… my parents?" Hermione nodded. Harry glanced towards where Hermione knew the staircase was. "Mum's upstairs. Dad… died a few years ago, on a mission. But it wasn't Voldemort. I have two siblings."

Tears immediately sprang to Hermione's eyes and she smiled, squeezing his hand. "Oh, Harry. I've never met your parents. And my Harry was an only child, raised by his aunt and uncle."

He shook his head, probably having a difficult time contemplating what she had told him. "You're telling me that I killed him? The most evil wizard in the history of the world? Me?"

"Yes! Yes, Harry, and you were amazing. Ron and I were with you the whole way—well, except for when Ron was a giant prat and left us—but other than that." She gasped, covering her mouth with both hands. "Harry, Ron. Is he—"

"Right here!"

Everyone looked up to see Ron standing in the doorway. He had a goofy grin on his face, despite the small cut over his left eye, and a heavy backpack on his back. He gave Draco a funny look but quickly crossed to Hermione, pulled her to her feet, and kissed her.

Hermione squealed and pushed him away. She heard Draco snort.

"Ron, no, stop." Harry pulled his friend back, to Ron's obvious displeasure.

"I haven't seen her in a week, Harry!"

"This isn't Hermione. At least, not your Hermione." Harry ran his hands through his hair. "That kiss sealed it. Just… have a seat, will you? And listen?"

Ron eyed everyone suspiciously, then did as Harry instructed. "What's going on?"

Harry quickly filled Ron in on what Hermione had told him, and Hermione watched as Ron's expression became more and more astonished. When he finished, Ron looked at her with wide eyes.

"So you're… you're not… with me? Um, wherever you're from?"

Hermione bit her lip and shook her head. "Well, no. Er, we tried? But it didn't last. We're still very good friends, however."

Ron nodded thoughtfully. "Who are you with then?" His gaze darted to Draco, clearly worried about her answer.

"Nobody at present," she said stiffly.

Harry waved his hand. "We need to go back to something you said earlier. Are you telling me you know how to defeat Voldemort?"

"It's possible." She shrugged. "I'd need a lot of information, probably access to a library, and oh! Is there a Hogwarts here?"

"Are you sure she's not our Hermione?" Ron gave Harry a skeptical look.

"Yes, there's a Hogwarts. How else would all the magical people around here learn magic?" Harry chuckled as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Hermione was hit with the realization that this Harry was so much different. He had grown up in the magical world, had known his parents, and likely had no experience with the Muggle world at all. His parents also hadn't died to save him, so he didn't have the special protection afforded by his mother's sacrifice. Therefore, this Harry had no Horcrux embedded in his soul. A flick of her gaze to his forehead revealed no lightning bolt scar.

"I'll need a copy of Hogwarts: A History if you've one to spare."

Ron snorted. "Really, Hermione, I think this has gone on long enough, yeah? Give it a rest. Let's go have a snack and you can tell me about what I've missed while I was away." He stood and made a move towards the kitchen. "I think I smell a meat pie."

"I don't think she's lying, Ron." Harry was peering at her with extreme interest. "But if I know anything, it's that any Hermione will help us figure this out."

"What about him?" Ron jabbed his thumb in Draco's direction.

"We don't know much about him, unfortunately," Harry said. "So come sit down, Ron. Your snack can wait."

Ron grumbled but did as Harry said.

"So the both of you just… found yourselves… where?" Harry asked. "You said you were in your flat, Hermione. What about you, Malfoy?"

"Home. In my bed at the Manor. Or, at least, what was left of it. I think the draft woke me, and I found myself in what used to be my bedroom, though two of the walls were missing."

Harry nodded. "Malfoy Manor was destroyed years ago."

Draco gripped his wand so tightly his knuckles turned white. "Potter. My… my parents."

Harry had the grace to look down. "They're dead. Your Father… he was one of Voldemort's top generals, but he was killed by Voldemort a few years ago. Your Mother died a long time ago, not long after you were born. We don't really know the details, you—or, rather, our Draco—never talked about it much."

"Bellatrix?" he asked through gritted teeth.

"She's his second in command."

Draco nodded, taking it all in. "Are there… Death Eaters?"

Harry blinked. "Yes, there are, though not many people know about them. They're Voldemort's elite squad of fighters."

"And… me? I mean, the other Draco? He works with you?"

"After Voldemort killed your father, you left them and joined us, offered us all the intelligence you could give, and vowed to fight against him until you either killed him or died trying."

Hermione noticed that Draco absently rubbed the arm she knew bore his Mark.

"You said I left them. Was I—he—one of them?"

"Yes. He was brutal and efficient, raised as a soldier. He was a Death Eater. I've always suspected there was more to the story than he told us, but he took a Vow, with Dumbledore himself, so we've had no choice but to trust him. That was… what, Ron, three years ago?"

Ron nodded. "Bloody hell, this is bizarre." He slumped down further in his chair. "I mean, how do we know this isn't the Draco from here? He looks the same. He's got a sword and two—no, three—guns." Ron pointed at each as he counted. "I'm sure there are at least as many knives hidden on his person."

Draco pulled one of the guns out and, to the horror of everyone in the room, waved it around. "Weasley, I have no idea how to use this thing."

"Put it away!" Harry shouted, ducking at the barrel swept his way.

Hermione gently put her hand on Draco's wrist and lowered the weapon. "Guns are extremely dangerous and lethal."

"I know," he said with a scowl. "I saw plenty of evidence of that earlier."

Ron crossed the room and took the gun, checking the safety and status of the clip. "Not bad. Where did you get it if you haven't had it this whole time? I'll admit, it's not the gun you—he—usually favors."

"We got into a scuffle with some Muggles," Hermione explained.

Harry looked alarmed. "Did you kill any?"

"No, we just Stunned them, then took everything we thought might be useful." Hermione brandished an impressive dagger.

"Good," said Ron. "We don't kill Muggles in the Order, unless we have no other choice. Not even the ones who try to kill us."

Hermione nodded. "I imagine that would make it hard to earn their trust."

"What about us? Or, our counterparts?" Draco interrupted. "You said Draco disobeyed an order from Dumbledore?"

Ron's eyes went wide. "Oh, I've missed a lot."

Harry sighed. "Yes. You—he—has been working with our research department on a device that can detect very faint traces of magic. Your team had finished a prototype and you wanted to test it last night. Dumbledore said it was too soon, that it needed more research, but you were convinced that a success would help us greatly in this war. I don't really know what he did, I only know the device is now missing from our lab. And, no offense, but it would be very much like him to take it and test it without anyone knowing."

"Do you know where I would have tested it?" Draco asked. "He, I mean. Where he would have tested it."

Harry shook his head. "Honestly, I think you're the best judge of that."

"I don't know if any of this matters or not." Draco frowned. "Where is this lab? Can I see what he was working on? Are there plans or anything?"

"The lab is underground, beneath this house. This is our headquarters and has been for decades." Harry swept his hand around to indicate the entire house. "But he took the device with him last night."

"Are Hermione and I friends here?"

Both Harry and Ron laughed so loud and long that tears streamed out of Ron's eyes. "That… was… brilliant… mate!"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "All right. It's nothing much different where we're from."

Ron wiped his eyes and grinned at her. "You two loathe each other here. Beyond anything anyone has ever seen. It's truly frightening."

Harry stopped laughing though and turned thoughtful. "That may be so, but our Hermione is always fair. And she sided with Draco last night about testing the device. I wonder… Do you know if there are any other magical people in your building, Hermione?"

She shook her head. "No, I've no way to know who lives there over here."

Harry stood and began to pace. "I'm almost certain you're the only witch who lives there. If that's true, and let's assume for now that it is, then it's highly possible she and Draco took the device to her building in order to test it."

"So whatever brought us here might be connected to that device?" she asked, her mind spinning.

"I have no idea, but it's a start." Harry looked at Draco. "What do you do over there? Do you think you'd be any help looking at the lab where our Draco worked?"

Draco appeared slightly uncomfortable. "I doubt it. I'm afraid I work for my father. It's a rather boring job, if I'm honest. But it allows me the life of leisure I'm accustomed to."

Hermione barked a laugh. "He doesn't do much of anything, really. He's a regular feature in Witch Weekly as they debate his latest fashion choices and who he's dating each week."

Draco scowled at her while Harry and Ron gaped.

Ron threw up his hands. "Fucking great. You're basically useless."

"He's not useless," Harry countered. "He's still a Malfoy. He can still pretend he knows what he's doing."

Hermione had to stifle a laugh. Harry was still just Harry, and that was some comfort in this crazy situation. "I'm sorry, Draco. I couldn't help it." She looked back at her friends, then a thought struck her. "Oh! Ron! Your family!"

"Yeah? What about them?" His eyes held a weariness.

She bit her lip, realizing she didn't want to ask specifically about every member of his family, wishing she hadn't brought them up at all. What if they were all dead? What if someone he loved had just died?

"How are they?" She cringed.

Ron shrugged. "They're all right. We miss Dad, but everyone else is fine. Bill's on assignment, Percy's still deep undercover, Fred and George—"

"Fred!" Hermione gasped, eyes wide. "Are they… do they like to play jokes?"

Harry chuckled and Ron rolled his eyes. "They're the worst. They can be so inappropriate at times."

"We need to laugh, Ron." Harry clapped his friend on the back. "I know they're your brothers, and so you can't officially like them too much, but I am thankful for the levity they provide."

"Ginny?" Hermione said hesitantly. "Charlie?"

Ron frowned. "Ginny is fine. Who's Charlie?"

Hermione shook her head. "Nobody here, I suppose."

"Enough of this," Draco said grumpily. "It doesn't sound like we have much time for this fascinating conversation."

She nodded, anxious to move away from potential ghosts. "Anyway, Draco is not useless. He and I were always very competitive in our classes, and I'm sure we can find some use for him."

Draco glared and seemed about to speak when Harry hushed them.

"That's enough. You two are really no different than our pair." Harry glanced at his watch. "Unfortunately, we've had a mission planned for a few weeks now that involves you two—them. There's a very dangerous, very militant group of Muggles who we fear are developing some new technology for detecting magic. It's why Draco was working on his device; he wanted a way to counteract theirs. It's something of a race around here. If they can find magical traces, they can locate and target us much easier. We need a way to either disable their device or counter it, and that's what you two—they—were going to do today. In just under two hours. We've got a prep meeting in thirty minutes with the key players on our side."

"Is it dangerous?" Hermione asked.

"What does that matter?" Draco gave her a sharp look. "We need to get out of here. Go back where we came from. Not run around in some business that's not ours and potentially get ourselves killed."

"And just how do you propose we do that?" Hermione huffed. "We don't know anything about how or why this happened. We might be stuck here."

She'd said it just to argue with him, but the reality hit her like a ton of bricks. They might actually be stuck. Here. In the middle of this war zone. In a fight that wasn't theirs. In a world they barely recognized.

Draco's face drained of colour and he shook his head. "No. I won't believe that. I'm not useless—" He sent a glare in Ron's direction. "—and I believe that I can at least offer some insight into the device. He and I probably think a lot alike, so I'd just need to apply myself."

"If we don't keep this meeting with the Muggles, we'll lose our chance of ever getting another one. You two were going to go undercover, try to infiltrate them in order to learn what they're working on. We've been planning this mission for months." Harry frowned.

"Why can't they just go?" Ron pointed to Hermione and Draco.

Harry checked his watch again. "There's a lot you've missed on this, Ron. Our pair have already met with someone on the inside, someone named Troy. We'll go over everything in the meeting. We can't send someone new, but I don't know what to do until we know more or it could be really dangerous for them. I don't know who we could ask. Mum's upstairs, but she's sleeping. I can't even ask Dumbledore because he's unreachable on an assignment."

"What about Remus? Sirius?" Ron suggested.

Hermione's heart leapt a thousand times at hearing these names. She looked at Harry, though of course it was nothing special to him.

"Sirius will be here for the prep meeting, as will Tonks, Gideon, and Alice. We may have no choice but to wait until then." The worried expression on Harry's face told Hermione he wasn't thrilled with this plan.

Ron turned back to Hermione. "If you're anything like our Hermione, you can do this." He glanced up at Draco. "And if you're half as bat-shit crazy as our Draco, we've got a chance to pull this off."

Hermione looked over her shoulder to see Draco frowning deeply. She stood and went to him, speaking quietly so that only he could understand her. "Listen, Draco. I know this is… insane. But you're on their side. Or, he is, and you have a chance to help right now. After we do this one little thing, we can focus on getting home. I'm sorry that we're stuck here, that you've been thrown in with me and them, but at least we're where we should be, where our other selves would have been. This is the best place to be in order to get back."

He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "You're right. You're absolutely right. But, Granger, this isn't me. This was never me. Maybe this is him, but…." He shook his head. "Weasley's right, I'm practically useless."

"You're not." She put her hand on his arm and looked him in the eye. "This is an impossible situation, but you are a survivor. You made it through the war, and you're a Slytherin, for fuck's sake. Self-preservation is what you do. You've had your moment to feel sorry for yourself, and now it's time to suck it up and do what needs to be done. Help me help them, and then I'll help you with the device."

Draco clenched his jaw, and she could see the battle waging in his eyes. After a moment, he gave her a curt nod. "Fine. I'm in."

"Thank you, Draco." Hermione shot him a small smile before she turned back to Harry and Ron. "What's involved in this mission?" The two men exchanged a knowing look. "What?"

Harry was all business. "Well, you'll get most of the mission details at the meeting, but the most important thing we can do right now is test your skills with the weapons you're holding. I trust you're already more than competent with your wands, but have either of you used a gun before?"

They both shook their heads.

"Can't be helped. Hopefully they won't require target practice out of you. Our Hermione was chosen for this mission because she's Muggle-born and grew up mostly in the Muggle world. Though, of course, they're very interconnected here, which I'm gathering isn't the case where you're from. You'll have to pretend you're Muggles, of course. Our Draco was obviously part of this because he had the best working knowledge of his own device and the theory behind what they're trying to do. Plus, as Ron said, he's a bit crazy. We trusted Hermione completely with him."

"Not all of us," Ron grumbled, glaring out the window.

"She felt completely safe, Ron. We had to trust her." Harry pulled his gun from its holster and pointed to each feature as he listed them. "Trigger. Squeeze that to shoot. Clip goes in here. Slide back to cock. You have to hold it like you know what you're doing. The other Hermione and Draco had it all worked out, what they were going to do. We didn't get all the details, but…"

Hermione swallowed hard. The ease with which Harry handled the weapon was both alarming and sobering. "Will I have to shoot one?"

"We certainly hope not, but if you don't know what you're doing with one, they'll know something's wrong." He jerked a shoulder towards the back door. "We can go outside to practice a bit. Merida would be ideal to teach you, but she's not here, and I think it would be best if as few people as possible know the truth about you two."

After healing Draco's leg, Harry and Ron led them to the back garden, where they spent twenty minutes going over the guns Draco had salvaged. Then Ron retrieved two dull swords from a chest by the house. "We use these for practice."

Draco took his scabbard off and set it down, accepting one of the dull swords from Ron and eyeing him skeptically. To Hermione's immense surprise, he set his feet wide, as though he knew what he was doing. Without a word, Ron lunged forward. Draco blocked the stroke easily, and Ron's eyes widened. They continued to fight, and Hermione could see that every few moves, Ron increased his intensity. He'd started off going easy on Draco, expecting that he wouldn't know anything, but he'd had to gradually up his game to fend off Draco's blows.

Finally, Ron bested him, but they were both sweating and breathing heavily. "Thought you… were useless."

Draco smirked. "I took fencing for eight years. I suppose it gave me some skill. Never would have imagined I'd use it, though. I'll have to thank my mother for the lessons."

"Don't thank her yet," Ron said with a wry grimace. "I still beat you, and I'm not nearly the best we've got."

"Now what?" Hermione still dreaded the thought of having to carry a weapon—a gun—on a mission.

Just then, a voice bellowed from inside the house. "Where's my favorite godson?"

Harry and Ron exchanged a look, then Harry turned to Hermione. "Remember, nobody can know that you're not… you know, them."

"Exactly how are we supposed to pass that off?" She tried but failed to keep her voice from rising.

Reality was really beginning to sink in. They were being sent on a mission they knew nothing about, to find out information on a device they'd never seen, in a universe where they didn't belong.

"Whoa. Steady there."

She felt strong arms grab her as the world tilted away and she fell against a firm body. Ron's immediate reaction was to reach for her, then glower at Draco, then roll his eyes as he remembered, yet again, that she was not his Hermione.

Draco gently lowered her to the ground. "Put your head between your knees and take deep breaths."

He rubbed her back absently while Hermione concentrated on not panicking. It didn't work. "We fought our war," she said in a harsh whisper she hoped only he could hear. "We've done our part. We went through hell and I don't—I don't know if I can do it again!"

"Do you remember what you said to me when I was feeling overwhelmed?"

She nodded numbly. "Kind of."

"Well. It was exactly what I needed to hear, but I'm not going to say anything like it. You're a Gryffindor. Isn't this, like, what you lot live for? So, get up, strap on your big girl pistol, and let's do this. The only way out is through, Granger. We can do this, we just have to get the intel, come back, then go home."

"But—" She lifted her head to argue with him, to tell him that this whole situation was nowhere near as simple as he made it sound and that they were in way over their heads. She was usually over-prepared for any type of foolhardy scenarios she found herself in but that was impossible for this one and—

Draco put a finger to her lips.

"No. We survive this. That's what I do. When there's no plan, not enough information, not enough time, not enough anything, I survive. And you have to survive with me because if I go back without you, Potter and Weasley will skin me alive and then slowly kill me. Which doesn't square with everything I said about me surviving."

She managed a small smile and realized, with a jolt, that he was close—very close. She could see the concern etched on his face, the crease of his brow, the line of his lips. But then the overwhelming feelings hit her again and she went back to taking deep, steadying breaths. Draco resumed rubbing her back, and unconsciously, she leaned into his touch. She sensed more than heard the others approach, but Draco shooed them away. After what felt like a few minutes, she started to feel better.

"I'm all right." She made to stand, but Draco leapt to his feet and helped her, propping her up with his arm.

"You sure?" His eyes searched hers, and she was surprised at how attentive he was being, how concerned he was over her. Most likely it was his self-preservation kicking in; he wasn't wrong in what he'd said about returning without her.

"Yes." Hermione nodded. "Thank you, though." She looked up at the back face of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, her thoughts flitting through the many memories she had of the former headquarters of the Order. "Let's get to it."

ooo

"Granger!"

Hermione blinked, startled out of the rush of things she was feeling: anxiety, fear, doubt, sheer terror.

"Sorry," she muttered. "What were you saying?"

They were standing in the middle of the woods after being Portkeyed in by the Order. Their mission was to walk a few hundred yards further, where they would cross the perimeter set up by the Muggle group they were trying to infiltrate. Then, presumably, they'd be spotted, and then they would proceed to seek entrance into the group.

"I said, are you all right?" Draco's voice was surprisingly kind.

Her heart was pounding and she felt like she might throw up. She tried to tell herself she'd been through a bloody war, but at least then she'd had her wand and spells and magic at her disposal. Because these Muggles were so virulently anti-magic, they'd be forced to get through this mission without them. They'd hidden their wands in the forest near their arrival spot, disguised and warded, in a nondescript tree. After casting a spell on the tree that only they could detect, they'd walked away. It had been a long time since she'd been without a wand, and leaving it had been one of the hardest things she'd done since the war. She felt completely vulnerable and fragile without her wand; her only weapon was a gun she'd shot perhaps a dozen times in the back garden earlier that afternoon.

None of her reactions made sense, considering what she'd been through, but then, honestly, she had always made provisions for every scenario she could think of, then thought through every scenario after that. Now, she felt completely empty; the meeting hadn't been nearly long enough, and she and Draco had been forced to act like they knew most of what was going on already, as it was supposed to be the last meeting before this mission.

Harry and Ron had sat with them the whole time, translating and explaining things as quietly as possible, after Hermione taught them the Muffliato spell. After the meeting, they'd showed her and Draco as many memories as they could of their counterparts to get a good sense of who they were supposed to pretend to be. Of course, most of these Muggles had never met either of them, so at least that was some relief. A crash course in the history of Muggle-wizarding relations came next, and her head was still positively swimming.

Last, but certainly not least, they'd been shown the laboratory where the Draco from here had worked to develop the device. Thankfully, only one other person was there, and Harry asked her to leave—though she glared at Draco as she did. Hermione remembered that the other Draco had, just the night before, disobeyed Dumbledore and taken the device.

They'd all looked for it, though without much hope of finding it. What they did locate were plants and notes, which Draco read surprisingly quickly. Then Hermione, with her background in the Department of Mysteries, and Draco, who recognized so much of the thought behind the design, were able to begin the Herculean task of understanding what they were looking at.

Draco seemed to take everything in with quiet strength. He asked a few questions, but nothing seemed to faze him. There was no way to know what he was thinking, of course, but his steadiness, his evenness relaxed her. Whenever she started to feel overwhelmed, she would look at him, and he'd either roll his eyes playfully, make a joke that no one but her would understand, or just smile reassuringly. The last thing she'd expected was to find Draco Malfoy to be a pillar of strength.

Granted, they hadn't actually done anything yet, but even here, in the forest, moments away from risking their lives in a way she'd never imagined possible, he was a rock.

When she didn't respond right away, he smirked. "I know this sword makes me irresistible, Granger, but let's focus, shall we?"

That snapped her out of her thoughts and she narrowed her eyes. However, she didn't snap at him; her heart simply wasn't in it. "I'm as ready as I can be. And that's terrifying."

His haughty expression morphed into one of compassion. "This is insane. Completely. But if there's anything I know, it's that you can do this. We can do this. Your brain, your knowledge of magic and the Muggle world, your ingenuity and your calculating mind, plus my penchant for saving my own arse… they won't know what's hit them."

"Careful, Malfoy," she said, feeling undeniably boosted by the string of compliments. "I might get the idea you don't hate me."

He rolled his eyes. "I don't hate you, Granger."

"Well, I don't hate you, either."

"Glad we've got that sorted. Now. Are you ready? Beth?" He peered ahead, shielding his eyes with his hand. "They said walk North."

Beth was the name of her alias; Draco's name was Phil. These were only a few of the many pieces of information they'd had to absorb quickly during the meeting with the Order earlier. Hermione pulled out her compass and found their direction.

"That way." She pointed towards the least friendly looking path and slipped the instrument back into her bag. "Let's go."

They both turned to face North and for a moment, the sun went behind a cloud. A chill wind swept by.

"Seems cheery," he said, though he frowned at the woods in front of them. He took a step, but Hermione reached out and grabbed his arm. He stopped, peering at her quizzically.

She swallowed hard, then slid her hand down to his, grasping it firmly. Then she walked ahead. He didn't say anything, didn't pull away like she'd feared he might. Maybe he, like her, appreciated the tangible connection to the only person in this whole entire universe who knew him.

At first, they didn't speak as they moved through the woods. But they weren't trying to sneak up on the Muggles, quite the opposite, in fact. When Hermione remembered this, she tried to relax.

"I wonder if they have Quidditch here."

Draco gaped at her. "Are you serious? First, we shouldn't be talking about that. Second, did you honestly just mention what I think you did?"

She shrugged. "I thought it might be more normal for us to talk rather than creep through the trees in silence."

He was thoughtful for a moment. "You're probably right. What should we talk about?"

"There's no way to know if what we say will be overheard. Might be best not to talk after all."

Draco nodded, his brow creased in thought. "Just remember who you are, Granger. And remember that I will not leave you."

She squeezed his hand and smiled. Ten minutes later, that's how they were found, hand-in-hand, slashing through the woods.

"Freeze!"

They did. Hermione saw about six people come out from cover with their guns drawn. She and Draco raised their hands, clasping tighter to each other.

"Drop the sword."

Draco complied.

"What are you doing out here?" A man stepped forward in military fatigues, no weapon raised. His hair was cropped short and he had an eye patch over one eye, with mud smeared across his cheeks.

"We heard there was a special group out here." Draco didn't miss a beat. "Heard they're serious about hunting for magical blood."

Hermione marveled at how natural he was, how smoothly he spoke.

The man looked them both up and down, his gaze lingering on Hermione, drifting towards a leer. Draco's grasp on her tightened and he pulled her closer. The man laughed and held up his hands.

"I hear you, mate. Read you loud and clear. She's safe, we're not savages here. Unlike those wizards." Everyone spat.

Hermione grimaced; she knew enough about the Death Eaters in her own universe that she didn't doubt the man for an instant.

"Why us?" He stalked closer to Draco, still sizing him up.

"Your reputation," Draco said with a shrug.

The man nodded towards the sword. "You any good with that?"

"I've seen worse."

"I'm assuming you can shoot; if you couldn't, you'd be dead. Swords, knives, throwing stars: these things interest me. They say something about a man. You'll spar with Mitch, here. Depending on what I see, we'll go from there."

Draco nodded and looked at Hermione, giving her a small smile and a gentle squeeze before releasing her hand. He slowly stooped to pick up his sword, then stepped forward to where Mitch was standing in a small area with less underbrush.

Mitch bowed; Draco followed suit. Then they began.

Hermione watched with bated breath, though she felt a little bit uneasy about this sword fight. She silently thanked Harry for giving both her and Draco a few swallows of Felix Felicis before they'd left. He'd told them the Order didn't have much in stock, as the ingredients were hard to come by, but he thought of anybody, they should have some. So, she knew that, no matter Draco's skill, luck was very much on his side.

She wished desperately they could have brought some with them, but they hadn't been allowed a single magical item, not even her bag. Harry had told them the Muggles could detect magic and they'd likely be swept with a device. It was almost impossible, given the state of the world, to completely eliminate all magical traces from anybody. A long as they hadn't done magic in the recent past, they should be fine. They'd also undergone an extensive de-magicking routine everyone here appeared to be familiar with to remove any excess signs of magic from their clothes and hair.

The duel ended in a draw, though both men had drawn blood. The leader seemed impressed with Draco. Mitch returned to the forest whence he'd appeared, and the leader motioned for Draco and Hermione to follow him.

"We're a small group, we keep tight, but we've got big plans. Obviously you're not admitted yet, but you passed the first test." He nodded to Draco, who had drawn level to him. "Nice work."

Hermione did her best to keep up on Draco's other side, but when she lagged behind, he took her hand again, keeping a firm grip as they trudged through the woods.

"My name's Naylen. You are?" He held out his hand for Draco to shake.

He didn't even hesitate. "Phillip and Beth Higgs. Just married. Though I haven't been able to procure rings."

She had to stare at the ground in front of her to hide her surprise. They'd planned to use aliases, but there had been no discussion of them pretending to even date, much less being married—and newlyweds at that. Against her will, she felt her cheeks redden.

Naylen peered at them for so long Hermione had to fight the urge to fidget. Draco merely stood there, calm and serene as though nothing were amiss.

"Married, huh? Troy said you two hated each other when he met with you a few weeks ago. Said the tension was so thick he could feel it."

Hermione moved to stand very close to Draco, wrapping her free arm around his waist. She smiled up at him adoringly. "I'm not surprised Troy noticed the tension. It finally snapped between us about two weeks ago, and… well, the line between love and hate is very, very thin, right? Once we realized, we couldn't wait."

Draco looked down at her with an amused smile before he kissed her forehead.

"Ah, tension of a different sort." Naylen laughed and clapped Draco on the back. "Well, Troy was never very good with reading that kind of thing. He's not here right now, away on a mission, but we expect him back in a few days. We can probably find you something to suit for rings—if we take you in."

After walking in silence for about fifteen minutes, they arrived at a small clearing with about fifteen tents surrounding a few small fire pits. Hermione wondered how they would even begin to find out who was working on the detection device, but as she scanned the camp site, she noticed a large tent towards the back, easily twice as tall as the others and clearly not used for sleeping.

Obviously they would have to begin there.

"Welcome—" Naylen spread his arms wide and spun in a slow circle "—to the Collective."