Harry Potter belongs, as always, to JK Rowling. Unfortunately, she got there before I could.

Chapter Four

The three emerged from the darkness out onto a busy street, their sudden arrival unnoticed by the passing muggles intent on their errands. "Where are we?" asked Heather as Hermione pulled both of them along behind her.

"Shaftsbury Avenue" she replied. "It was the first place I thought of. We need to find you somewhere to change."

Coming up on a dark and empty alleyway, Hermione dragged Heather and Ron behind a dumpster and pulled out her beaded bag. Thrusting her arm inside almost to her shoulder, she extracted a bundle of Ron's and Heather's clothes. Apparently, she had meant it when she said she'd had all the essentials packed for days. Heather was too caught up the nerves of just having escaped to notice that the clothes she had been handed were girls. When she did realize it, she decided it made sense as she still looked like Ron's cousin and gave it no more thought. Once all three of them had changed into less conspicuous outfits, Hermione handed Heather her invisibility cloak. Disguised as a girl or not, it was still safer for her to not be seen. Looking forlornly at the dress she had only gotten to wear for a few hours, she threw it into the dumpster alongside Hermione's and Ron's robes.

"Come on, we'd better keep moving." Hermione said, leading them back onto the crowded street. It was difficult to move invisibly without running into someone, and several muggles looked around questioningly when Heather accidentally trod on a stray foot.

As they walked, a group of drunken workmen catcalled at Hermione from across the street, and Ron sent them venomous glares. Feeling exposed, it was agreed that they should step into an all night café that was a block ahead, at least until they could figure out where to go next. After sitting in a booth, a waitress took Hermione's order of two cappuccinos and left, giving them space to talk.

"You know, we're not far from the Leaky Cauldron-" Ron suggested

"Ron, you know we can't go there!" Hermione exclaimed quietly

"Not to stay, but we need to find out what's going on!"

"We already know," whispered Heather from under the cloak. "Voldemort's taken over the Ministry.

"Fine" said Ron, lapsing into an annoyed silence.

Behind Heather the chime over the door sounded as two workmen came in and walked up to the counter. As she watched them, Hermione and Ron debated where to go. Ron was all for heading out into the country and then trying to contact the Order but she wasn't convinced. Heather paid little attention, the little hairs on the back of her neck sensing danger. When the waitress brought back their order, Ron took one sip before declaring it to be undrinkable and that they should go.

On pure instinct, Heather's hand grabbed her wand as the two workmen made identical movements.

"Stupefy!" she cried, aiming for the taller of the two. He crumpled before he saw the spell coming, and his fellow dove behind a table for cover, unsure where the spell had come from. Ron and Hermione whipped around, their wands also drawn and a shot spells of their own. The café was destroyed as curses flew back and forth, until Hermione was able to bring down the second man. With dust filling the air, Heather, Hermione, and Ron approached the two workmen. They were Rowle and Dolohov, Death Eater's, Heather recognized instantly. Panicking as Heather tried to figure out how they had found them so quickly, the Hermione to work erasing their memories, and those of the waitress who had been taken out by a stray stunning spell, while Ron and Heather repaired the café. Wanting to get anywhere that was even marginally safe, it was agreed that they would go to Grimmauld Place. Snape may be able to get in there, but in her current mood, Heather wouldn't mind being able to vent her feelings by hexing their former potions master.

Arriving in the dingy square, Heather led the way to the house that only the three of them could see. With a tap of her wand the door began to unlock, which surprised her. In their haste to get to safety, she had forgotten that she had never been told how to enter the former headquarters. It was only when the memory that Sirius had left her the house came back to her that she realized that the house must recognize her.

Quickly passing through the doorway once it opened, they stood on the mat just inside, temporarily too nervous to go any further into the dark hallway. Hermione cast a revealing spell which confirmed they were alone, but this did little to assuage their nerves. Heather had just begun to wonder where they traps that the Order had left for Snape were when she took a brave step forward. As her foot landed on the carpet, her tongue rolled up into the back of her mouth and a low moaning voice called out "Severus Snape?" Barely visible at the end of the hall, a ghostly figure rose and rushed towards them. It was Dumbledore, more ferocious and horrid than he had been in life.

"No!" cried Heather when she could speak again, "We didn't kill you!"

With a bang like a cannon that woke the old portrait of Mrs. Black, the dusty figure exploded when she said "kill." Choking on the dust that filled the air, Heather, Hermione, and Ron hoped this was all the house had to throw against them. Quickly stunning the screaming portrait, they made their way into the dark house. It looked as though the Order had left in a hurry the previous summer.

It was mutually agreed that none of them wanted to sleep alone in the house tonight. They set up camp in the drawing room on the first floor, laying out sleeping bags on the sofa and floor. Ron excused himself to use the toilet while Hermione sat down to start going through the clothes she had packed for each of them. Heather watched her piling clothes next to her rucksack, noticing after a minute that she hadn't yet seen any of her boy clothes make an appearance.

"Erm, Hermione, where are my clothes?" she asked.

"They're right there" said Hermione pointing at the pile without looking up.

"No, I mean my other stuff."

"Oh, yes." She said, understanding what Heather was getting at, "I guess I forgot to talk to you about this at the Burrow. If only we had had more time to actually plan. We, that is Ron and I, had the idea that once we went off of our journey, it would be a smart idea for you to be 'disguised.' It was actually from that I got the idea for you to go to the wedding as a girl actually. After all, Voldemort is hunting for Harry Potter, not Heather." After a pause, she continued when Heather didn't speak, "It's not like you look much like your old self anyways. I figured you would be ok with this."

"I am, really" Heather replied, "just surprised is all." She sat down on the sofa and looked at the growing pile of Heather's clothes. After a moment I don't suppose you packing ingredients for my potion?"

"Not much, no. There just wasn't time."

"I figured. Well, is that going to be a problem for this?" she asked, gesturing at her body.

"I don't think so." Hermione replied. "I should have enough to make a few doses, that way the effects don't start to reverse."

Ron chose this moment to return and realized he had walked into something. "What's up?"

"I was just telling Heather about our idea for her to keep being a girl." Said Hermione, digging around in her bag and extracting one of Heather's bras. At the sight of it both Ron and Hermione went slightly pink.

"Oh, yeah," Ron said quickly to cover his embarrassment, "we reckoned that it was about the best chance we had of keeping you hidden, assuming we run into any Death Eater's. 'sides, you already look pretty much like a girl." At these words Ron ran an eye over Heather's body before realizing what he was doing and going even brighter red in the ears.

"Good of you to notice" joked Heather. They still hadn't reversed the changes made to her face and hair for the wedding. It was hard to reconcile in her mind that that had only been this morning. "Think I should stay a redhead then?"

"That might not be the best idea. Ron's already noticeable enough, two of you may attract unwanted attention if we're seen that we might not get otherwise." Hermione said. "Why not go with blonde or brown if you don't want to go back to black. Come on, I'll help." Hermione said, extricating herself from her sitting position and following Heather into the toilet. Waving her wand across Heather's face, she removed the transfigurations she had done to her features and made Heather's hair start to shift colors. Heather opted for a light brown, thinking it went well with her eyes. Hermione blocked the mirror again and muttered a few more spells.

"What do you think?" Hermione asked, pulling back and letting Heather admire her work. Her hair was the same light brown that she had chosen, but now lay perfectly flat, something it had never done before in her life.

"Well, I don't look like myself, that's for sure" said Heather, turning her head to admire it from different angles.

"Definitely not."

"I didn't think there was a spell that could make my hair lay flat" she said, running her hand down the smoothness.

"I wish I'd known about it years ago. It would have saved me so much time before the Yule Ball" laughed Hermione, and both of them flashed back to what was now, by comparison, a much simpler time.

A spasm of pain crossed Heather's scar followed by a feeling of fury that had nothing to do with anything she could place. Hermione noticed her grimace, "Heather, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, just a headache. Do you mind, I need too…" Heather said. She didn't want to hear another lecture on not letting Voldemort into her mind. Hermione left, and Heather locked the door behind her. Submitting to the pain and anger that were washing over, she saw the blonde death eater, Rowle, from earlier convulsing on a wooden floor, screaming. Loudly Voldemort shouted to the man that he was displeased to be summoned back just to be told that Harry Potter had escaped yet again.

A loud knocking on the door cut into the vision and Heather became aware that she was lying on the cold black marble floor. She tried swallowing several times to remove the bitter taste in her mouth, she had bit her tongue hard enough to make it bleed, but it was too dry.

"Heather, are you ok?" asked Hermione through the door.

"Yes, I'll be out in a minute" gasped Heather, pulling herself up with the sink and turning on the cold-water tap. A swish of water later and she felt marginally better. Well, enough at least to face her friends in any case. Out in the drawing room Hermione had finished sorting out their clothes, which Heather began packing into her rucksack. It struck her as odd, even as she replayed the vision from Voldemort in her mind, to realize that this was the first time in her life that she didn't have any clothes that weren't meant for a girl.

Her reverie was broken by the arrival of another patronus. This time it was the silver weasel of Mr. Weasley. It flew through the curtains and came to a stop in the middle of the floor. "Family is safe. Do not attempt to contact us, we are being watching. Be strong." As it faded to darkness, the three of them looked at each other, the reality of what had happened tonight finally becoming settling on them.