Some dialogue is taken from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 1. I do not own any part of the Harry Potter franchise and use these bits of dialogue to bring my story closer to the world imagined by J. K. Rowling and WB Studios.

Enjoy!

Hermione's feet hit solid ground and she stumbled, still not entirely used to wizarding travel. She looked up at the dark house in front of her. Number four Privet Drive. She'd never seen Harry's house before. It was nice, from what she could tell. It kind of reminded her of home. She felt a pang of longing in her chest and willed away the prickling in the corners of her eyes.

"Move along, Granger," said a gruff voice from behind her, accentuated with the heavy thunk of Moody's walking stick.

Shaking herself, Hermione stepped up to the back door of the house. Harry's not going to like this…

Behind her, Moody, Ron, Dora, Lupin, Mr. Weasley, Fred, George, and Mundungus – all of whom she had used the Portkey with – trudged through the neatly trimmed grass as Bill, Fleur, and Kingsley landed with two Thestrals and Hagrid with his flying motorbike. She was thankful Kingsley had thought to cast a Silencing Charm on the bike, knowing full well that Hagrid was not one to trust with stealth.

Inside, Hermione was not surprised to find everything in pristine order, as if the house was ready for the Dursleys to return back any moment.

Harry met them in the living room, his face set in a grim mask as everyone was briskly shuffled into the room by Moody. Hermione shared a brief hug with her best friend before moving along, allowing the others to greet the young man of the hour.

"Quiet everyone! We'll have time for a cozy catch up later," Moody growled, limping to the front of the room. Immediately, thirteen pairs of eyes looked to the senior Auror. "Potter, you're underage, which means you've still got the Trace on ya," he said as his magical eye swivelled around to gaze out the window at his back.

"Trace what –"

"The Trace means that if you sneeze the Ministry will be there to know who wipes your nose. Which means we have to use transportation that the Ministry can't detect. Brooms, Thestrals, the like. We'll go in pairs, that way if anyone's out there – and I reckon there will be – they won't know which Harry Potter is the real one."

Hermione listened as Moody briefly explained their plan, excluding for the moment the key details they knew Harry wouldn't like. By the look on Harry's face, their prediction had been correct. Not that he had much of a say, of course. They knew Harry's heart was too big to willingly risk their safety, but regardless, they had a plan B, just in case.

"The real one?" Harry asked, clearly puzzled.

With a sly grin stretched across his scarred face, Moody reached into his pocket and extracted a very familiar flask. "I believe you are well acquainted with this particular brew."

"NO!" Harry shouted instantly, eyes wide behind his round glasses. "Absolutely not!"

"Told you he'd take it well," Hermione quipped from behind his shoulder, slightly irritated by her friend's gallantry and lack of practicality.

"I'm not letting everyone risk their lives for me –"

"Haven't done that before, have we?" Ron said with a small chuckle. Prior to the mission, they had discussed the unlikely possibility of Harry's willingness to comply. Despite the warm feelings they both held for their best friend, the two of them agreed that Harry's biggest fault was perhaps his most redeeming quality – utter selflessness.

"No, this is different! I mean, taking that – becoming me –"

"Well, none of us really fancy it mate."

"Yeah, imagine if something went wrong and we wound up being a scrawny speky git forever!" Fred and George pipped in jokingly.

"Everyone here is of age, Potter. They've all agreed to take the risk."

Hermione thought Moody was being surprisingly understanding of Harry's moral predicament. In Harry's place, Hermione would struggle as well, as she imagined most everyone would, but seeing how pressed for time they were, Hermione wished they could move along. The sooner they each reached their respective Portkeys, the sooner she would be able to breathe freely, knowing that everyone was safe at The Burrow with Mrs. Weasley's late-night snacks stuffed in their bellies.

From the back, a wheezing cough sounded as the least savory member of their group spoke up. "Technically, I have been coerced. Mundungus Fletcher, Mr. Potter, always been a huge admirer." The little wizard introduced himself in his smarmy manner. Hermione could neither understand why he was here nor shake the feeling of discomfort at being around him. She supposed his unwashed appearance and his reputation as a thief and liar put a foul taste in her mouth.

"Nip it, Mundungus!" Moody barked. "Alright, Granger, as discussed."

About bloody time… swiftly, Hermione tore a chunk of messy black hair from the back of Harry's head as she passed him on her way to Moody and the waiting Polyjuice Potion.

"Blimey, Hermione!" Harry gasped in pain.

She carefully dropped the hairs into the potion and watched as it bubbled and fizzed, turning from a sickly mud-colour to a bright green that reminded her of smashed peas. All those who planned to drink the potion lined up, Hermione with them at the end of the cue beside Ron.

"For those of you who haven't taken Polyjuice Potion before, fair warning, it tastes like goblin piss."

Each of them took a sip of the potion, everyone gagging as they each found out in turn how accurate Moody's description had been. Hermione watched in awe as everyone transformed before her eyes. Fred and George each shrunk a good foot as Dung grew a few inches. Hermione would have laughed as she watched Fleur's beautiful face shift and become rounder if she had not felt her own skin begin to bubble and shift as her body transfigured itself into the spitting image of one of her best friends. This time felt different, she remarked, remembering her second-year experience with Polyjuice Potion. Transforming into another human wasn't quite as horrible as growing a tail and a body full of fur.

"Wow! We're identical!" the twins exclaimed in unison as Moody dumped the prepared bundle of seven identical outfits onto the floor. They all undressed, Hermione more than a little mortified by the shameless display of Harry's body. She felt her – or Harry's – cheeks flame as they all stripped and tried her best to keep her eyes averted from the several bodies. One day, perhaps, they would all look back on this and laugh at the absurdity and utter ridiculousness of the situation. Perhaps one day she would not blush at the memory of seeing Harry's… well… everything! Secretly, she congratulated Ginny on her choice of boyfriend.

Once all the Harrys were dressed, they made their way outside to where they had left their various means of transportation. As previously instructed, Hermione followed Kingsley to their shared Thestral, saddened by the reason why she could now see the skeletal creature, but glad she would not have to ride a ruddy broom.

Kingsley graciously offered her a leg up, which she gratefully accepted. Once he was seated as well, she wrapped her arms securely around the man's waist and watched as everyone partnered up and prepared themselves for whatever would lie ahead.

"Ready, Miss Granger?" Kingsley asked, his deep, calm voice soothing her jittery nerves.

"Yes," she replied with a nod. Her hand tightened around her wand as she mentally listed everything she had learned about duelling and which spells would be most effective during a mid-flight duel, should they be attacked.

Perhaps I should have studied more before this… will the Thestral throw us off if it's startled?

"Do not fear, Miss Granger, this is not the first time I've ridden a Thestral. I will be able to control her."

"How did you –"

Hermione felt the man's deep chuckle rumble through his chest. "You're squeezing a little tighter than necessary."

She quickly apologizing and loosened her hold. She was sure her – Harry's – face must be scarlet. Be a Gryffindor! Come on now!

And suddenly they were off. The Thestral climbed quickly through the sky and soon they were consumed by the low hanging clouds that blocked out all celestial light. She felt the short hair on her head grow damp and her clothes begin to stick to her from the dampness in the air.

And then suddenly as the world had disappeared, it reappeared once more and she could see through the night. Her heart jumped into her throat and she wished they had stayed in the cloud cover. In every direction she looked, there were Death Eaters.

"We've been betrayed!" Kingsley yelled as he urged the Thestral on through the volley of spells and hexes.

Wand instinctively at the ready, Hermione shot off a Stupefy at the nearest cluster of Death Eaters.

"Granger, cover us! I need both hands to steer her through this!"

"Right!" she said, conjuring a Shield Charm and deflecting a curse from a Death Eater she recognised from the Ministry – Travers – and then hitting him square in the chest, tossing him from his broom.

Red, blue, green, and a horrible looking yellow jets of light zoomed passed them as they surged forward, the animal's wings flapping furiously to outfly the Death Eaters on brooms.

"Impedimenta! Patrificus Totalus!" Hermione felt sweat on her brow despite the frigid air. Her breath began to come out in tiny clouds of steam each time she exhaled and a chill settled throughout her body. As they flew, Hermione felt the chill intensify, becoming something bone-deep that turned her stomach and clasped her heart in an icy hand. We're going to die… we can't do this I can't do this I'mgoingtofailgoingtofailgoingtodie –

"Dementors!" Kingsley yelled and Hermione, shaken from her panic, saw the Death Eaters on their tail fall back as the black, spectral figures gathered. "Hold on!" Kingsley fished his wand from his robes and took aim at what Hermione had initially thought to be a dark rain cloud. "Expecto Patronum!" A silvery lynx made of light and happiness burst from the tip of his wand and chased away the hoard of cloaked figures, creating a clear path for them to fly through unharmed and less affected.

However, the Death Eaters took advantage of the wizard's powerful Patronus and used the path created by the feline to follow them still further through the sky.

"There's too many!" Hermione yelled. Natural panic settled in her heart, replacing the feeling of helplessness caused by the Dementors. She continued to deflect the spells thrown at them. "Stupefy!" She tried not to feel the little twinge of guilt another man was thrown off his broom and fell through the clouds below, presumably to his death.

Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione saw a dark shape begin to take form. It began as a cloud – a black, incorporeal cloud coming out of the night sky. All the other Death Eaters immediately evaded the space the shape took up. Then, out of the smoky blackness that morphed into billowing robes, Hermione saw a face.

"IT'S HIM!" she shrieked, too terrified to be ashamed of the pitch of her voice. This is it, Hermione thought in fear, at least Harry will be safe…

"Hold on!" Kingsley forced the Thestral into evasive flying, spiralling through the freezing wind as they dodged the volleys from the Death Eaters as the Dark Lord himself followed them with ease through the air.

Terror seized Hermione's mind as her eyes met Lord Voldemort's and she conjured the strongest Shield Charm she could manage as he raised the wand he held between long, deathly pale fingers.

And then suddenly, those red eyes flared darker and she lost sight of Voldemort's snake-like face in his billowing robes made of darkness.

"It's not him – another fake! Finish them!" She heard him roar, his voice echoing through the air as he disappeared from the sky.

NO, HARRY!

"DUCK!"

Obediently, Hermione lowered her head just in time to miss a red jet of light – a Cruciatus Curse – flying over their heads.

Hermione turned in the direction of their attacker. The witch's dark, curly hair whipped behind her as she sped after them on her broom, her pale face sporting a bone-chilling grin as the witch raised her wand and shot off another curse. Her black cloak billowed around her thin frame like the ghostly bodies of the Dementors as she pulled up beside their Thestral. Hermione almost wished the dark creatures would return to chase away this most notorious and wicked Death Eater.

The witch locked eyes with Hermione; the brunette forced herself to glare back and not show the fear she felt deep inside. Hermione wasn't positive which frightened her most – the wand pointed directly at her and Kingsley or the cold, cruel gaze with which the dark-haired witch fixed the young woman. Hermione remembered those eyes from the night at the Ministry; the night this witch killed Sirius.

"Black!" Kingsley gasped as he finally caught sight of the woman steadily gaining on them.

"Stupefy! Incarcerous! Confringo!" Hermione shot off every curse and hex she could think of at the Death Eater, but she was hardly a match. The witch expertly deflected each of her spells and sent more curses directly at Hermione's back.

"PROTEGO!"

"Hold on, we're about to cross the barrier!"

Hermione felt a tightening in her gut that then spread through her entire body – like she was being squeezed through the hole of a straw – until she felt her head would implode, and then suddenly, just as quickly as it has begun, everything was normal. Taking a deep breath and re-expanding her lungs, Hermione dared a glance behind them, only to find the sky completely clear of Death Eaters.

"We're here." She heard Kingsley say as he brought the Thestral down to a soft landing on solid earth. Neither of them waisted much time before jumping off and taking a few steps and some several moments to gather themselves.

"That was…"

"Yes, it was. But he's gone now; she's gone; they all are. Hermione, you fought brilliantly! You are truly a fantastic witch, thank you."

Hermione blushed at the praise. The fact that it came from Kingsley, an amazing wizard and Auror in his own right, resonated deeper in her than any other time someone called her a wonderful or talented witch.

Clearing her throat, Hermione looked around them. She had no idea where they had landed. "Where are we?"

"This is the home of Order member Hestia Jones. She is currently away with the Dursleys, but she allowed us to use her home as a safe house for our Portkey to The Borrow," Kingsley explained as he walked around the rather unkept and overgrown yard. As he searched for the hidden Portkey, Hermione felt her skin return to its natural form and wrapped herself in the now-slightly-too-big jacket.

Her companion made a small sound of victory when he finally found what he'd been searching for. "Here," he called Hermione over to where he was kneeling in front of a small, beaten looking garden gnome.

Hermione crouched low beside him and waited as he rose, lifting a finger in response to her raised eyebrow, and strolled over to set their faithful Thestral free to fly back to the Forbidden Forest.

"Good to see you again, Miss Granger," he said with a smile lighting his impossibly dark, warm eyes. "Ready?" he asked as he crouched beside her once more.

Hermione nodded. Together, they placed their hands on the gnome and Hermione felt the sickening sensation of being pulled by her navel through a tornado, through a wormhole.

When their feet hit ground once more, Hermione was grateful for Kingsley's steady hand on her shoulder and she gave him a small smile of thanks.

Her eyes instantly scanned the yard for a sign of anyone having returned. She saw Hagrid and Mr. Weasley by the house as Lupin and Kingsley identified each other. Her eyes finally settled on Harry – the real Harry – and she rushed to him and launched herself into his arms.

"Thank God you're alright!" she exclaimed, burying her face in her best friend's shoulder.

"You too," Harry said against her bushy mane. "I don't know what I'd do if you… or Ron… George was hurt, got his ear cut off…"

"But he'll be alright."

"Yeah," Harry said, completely un-reassured.

"Has Ron –"

"There he is!"

Hermione turned to see Ron morphing back into his tall, gangly, ginger self as he strode towards the house with Dora.

"Ron!" Hermione grinned as she threw herself into the arms of her other best friend.

Now, with her friends on either arm, Hermione allowed herself to breathe more easily and the three of them made their way to the house.