Though her bushy hair was somewhat tamer than it had been in days past, it still swirled about Hermione Granger's head as she threw a glance over her shoulder. The little dark speck in the sky had been growing steadily more distinct. If her mother found out... She closed the door and rushed back to the window, throwing it open for Errol. She wondered if that meant it was Fred who'd sent her a letter.

Even thinking about the muscled beater made Hermione flush.

Errol made her jump as he flapped his wings to slow much too late, crashing into her bed frame with a dull thud.

"Hermione, are you all right?"

"Just dropped a book is all!" Hermione sighed. "Oh, Errol, you'll get me in trouble."

It'd barely been a week since she'd gotten back from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where she attended with the only known boy to have survived the Killing Curse, and the boy who's older brothers were determined pranksters and very much handesome. Currently she was grounded from use of any and all products of the magical world, which meant no reading spell books and no muttered incantations, no school trunk. The cause of this overbearing punishment was the change in Hermione's teeth. After being hit by a terrible jinx, Hermione had been sent to the hospital wing, where her overlarge buck teeth had been shrunk by Madam Pomfrey. Hermione suspected that Madam Pomfrey knew exactly what Hermione had been aiming at, as her teeth now looked and were perfectly sized.

Errol had delivered two letters, though Hermione was disappointed neither were from Fred, which was why Ron hadn't used Pigwidgeon. She scanned Ron's letter first, as quickly as she could, getting more and more excited until the last line, which read:

But you can't tell Harry.

Which was like asking her to not breathe for 3 months. Hermione felt instantly guilty, even as she moved to the second letter, which she read much more thoroughly.

"Mum!" Hermione called, picking up Errol and tossing him onto the windowsill. Letter in hand, she stepped out of her room, careful to close the door behind her so Crookshanks couldn't kill Errol, not that he'd need much help dying. She followed said cat into the kitchen as he hunted for food.

"Yes, darling?" Her mother turned, wiping her hand on a dish towel and picking up a steaming mug. When she saw the letter in her daughter's hands, she frowned, "I've told you, Hermione, not to let the owls in the house! They leave little -presents- every where!"

"Mum, Dumbledore doesn't think it's safe that I stay with you," Hermione said quietly, feeling a part of her break as she handed her mother the parchment. She should not want to be away from them so soon after returning to them. So why did she feel so excited to be out and away from her parents?

"'Due to the nature of both Ms. Granger's status as one of Mr. Potter's closest friends and her blood status, which has, in the past been targeted by Lord... Vold-Voldy-" her mother struggled with the name as a wizard might, but for an entirely different reason.

"V-Voldem-mort," Hermione whispered, glancing over her shoulder as reflex. It was surprisingly hard for her. She shuddered violently.

"'-targeted by Lord Voldyno-mort in the past,'" her mother continued, "'We believe it to be safer for all involved if she... spent the summer with the Order of the Phoenix?!'"

"It's a secret society dedicated to fighting You-Know-Who," Hermione said softly, taking the parchment pack from her mother's shaking hands.

"No, I don't know who!" Her mother said, clearly becoming frustrated with her teenage daughter's attitude. It was always You-Know-Who, and muggles and mudbloods and Alkadan and Quit-ditch and all other sorts of incomprehensible babble. She hadn't stormed to her room and slammed the door, but her mother understood her no more for it. Besides, Mrs. Granger really didn't like keeping anything from her husband, especially the fact that their daughter was dating a man who seemed to have just slightly less than honorable intentions. Mrs. Granger did not trust that boys grin. Not. One. Bit.

"Mum, we call him that because we don't say his name, because he has hundreds of people scared of him, even though they think he's gone," Hermione said, for the first time trying to truly explain more than why she needed a wand to do magic, or why if she was a witch she didn't like flying on brooms. Hermione sighed, "Mum, this is a man who murdered a 17 year old boy, a competant wizard, simply for being what he was; a great wizard. And he was pure-blood."

"This has to do with that woman at the station?" Her mum asked perceptively. Hermione had glossed over the details of wizardry and its blood statuses. Then she sighed deeply as her daughter had done, pulling her into a tight embrace, "We barely get to see you as it is, 'Mione."

"Trust me, Mum, please," Hermione begged, leaning against her mother, though Hermione was already getting taller than her, "If we spent much more time together, they'd try and target you."

"I don't see why," she said softly.

"I'm Muggleborn, I've told you," Hermione pulled away, "Besides, You-Know-Who kind of has it out for Harry. He's... well, kind of one about 2 wizards to face You-Know-Who face to face and live."

"This man wants to murder a 15 year old boy?" her mother raised an eyebrow. Hermione resisted the urge to correct her; Harry was still 14. "I'm confused, Hermione."

"This man, who's really hardly even a man at all, is the purest form of evil that I will ever face," Hermione said, determined as she gripped the marble countertop's edge. They'd redone the kitchen, so the cupboards were now white, the counter's a contrasting dark blue. Her knuckles turned white, "He hates who I am, what I am, and he has tried to hurt those I love."

Her mother sniffled a little, and Hermione looked up, "You've grown so much."

Hermione knew that the only thing her mother really understood was that she'd caused Hermione pain. Hermione just wished there was some way to make her forget the pain she'd caused her parents.

"Make sure you're packed," she said gently, "I'll try to convince your father to let you got, but he's loath to do so, darling."

Hermione smiled, touching the back pocket of her jeans out of habit. Then she turned and ran to her room.

"Just take that ruddy cat with you!"

"Why does everyone hate my cat?" Hermione demanded of herself under her breath.

"What do you mean she's already going?!" Hermione tried to ignore the shouts of her parents. Hermione folded her scarf and packed it into her trunk, also taking the brand new clothes they'd bought the other day in preparation for a blazing hot summer. That was the second family outing they'd had after the brief caravaning adventure. Her dad had loved the first one almost as much as he'd hated the next. "She just got back!"

"She's going on about some Lord Vold...Voldetort-No, it's an 'm' isn't it-"

"Mum!" Hermione yelled out of her room, "Do not say his name!"

She was likely to get herself killed if she let it slip out in front of a Death Eater if they happened to come across one. Though Hermione couldn't imagine a Death Eater going within 12 feet of a Muggle at any time except if they'd already made up their mind to kill them. The thought of Mr. Malfoy wandering about the grocer's almost made Hermione giggle.

"See!" her mother insisted, though much quieter. Hermione had to stop packing and crouch at the barely open door to hear her, "Our girl has rarely been afraid of anything, remember? She's more frightened than I have ever seen her before."

"You ever think this is just another excuse to hang around with that boy?" Her father hissed, "What's his name, Frank?"

Hermione paled. Her mother... Had she told him? No, she remembered talking to her mother about it during camping. Her father must have been eavesdropping on them.

"I've read the letter, the handwriting is far too horrible to be hers. It's the worst doctor writing I've ever seen. It said there'd be something called Aurors. One of her old teachers'll be there and the headmaster is the one who sent the letter."

"So where is she going?"

"Somewhere in London, the letter didn't say," her mother answered. Hermione's breath caught when she continued, "Said something about the twins stopping by tomorrow to collect her, if we said yes that is. She's already written back saying yes, but only because I've already told her yes."

"Hermione Jean!"

Hermione stood quickly, but not too quickly, and opened her door, padding out into the hall and to the living room, asking innocently, "Did you need something?"

"The twins?"

"Gred and Forge-er-" Hermione winced. "Fred and George."

"What is an Ore- what was it again, love?" Her father asked, snapping his fingers. He looked like he'd seen a biter that day, there were small red marks around his hand.

"An Auror," Hermione said softly, "They're sort of like policemen, they catch Dark Wizards, or try to."

"So why haven't they caught this Voldy-"

"He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named!" Hermione interjected quickly, which was impressive, seeing as it was six whole different words, "And they haven't caught him because he's the most powerful Dark Wizard of this age and they're too scared of loosing their power to admit he's back."

"But he is back? You're sure?" He asked.

"Positive," Hermione nodded, "Cedric Diggory didn't drop dead of his own accord."

"Why is this so bad?"

"Because he has no respect for any life, human or not," Hermione said sadly, "He is a mere fraction of a man, with no soul who takes what he wants and destroys those who stand in his way."

"Good," he said. He closed his eyes, "You cannot go, I forbid it."

"What?!" Hermione demanded.

"I will not loose you," he said softly, trying to sound like he really cared. And maybe he did.

Nonetheless, an invisible wind pushed back Hermione's hair, "I am going. I am old enough to make my own decisions. I can't believe you would be so selfish, I can help people, Dad."

"That's enough!"

"No, it's not!" Hermione said, glaring, "I am going to fight this until the day I die, because that is what you raised me to do; to stand up for myself and be accepting of those less fortunate."

"He's just trying to help," her mother said softly.

"I'll spend Christmas with you," Hermione promised, "But I refuse to be shielded like I am frail! People could die, they will die!"

"And I will not let you be one of them!" Her father snapped.

"It's not your choice," Hermione said. "I've already tried to stop him before, he's not the type to forget about that sort of thing! How do you think Harry saved the Stone when he was 11, or killed the basilisk when he was 12, how do you think we helped Sirius escape?! If I can face down a werewolf, I can spend the summer away! You think I'd actually be safer here?! I can't use magic here, but they can, and they will!"

"You're just a girl," her father said gently and his voice broke, "You're my little girl."

Hermione hugged him tightly, "I'm sorry, but this is my choice, Dad."

"What d'you mean, you helped Sirius escape?" Her mother said softly. "That's the one you warned us about trying to hurt Harry before, Sirius Black. He broke out of prison didn't he?"

"He's a very misunderstood man," Hermione laughed shakily.

.o0O0o.

Just 1 Thought: I am going to try to make the chapters longer, I just have them written in tiny segments and I haven't gotten around to smushing them all together.

badwolfinwinterfell: Thank you, and again I'm sorry for the confusion. Writing for Fred and George (and eventually Charlie) is one of my favorite things to do. Thanks for your faith in me, I will try to live up to your expectations. :)

jillcovey: Unfortunately accidents do happen, but thank you!

swishyla: Thank you, and though I've never heard of an accidental-chapter-switch happening to anyone else, odds are it has (I hope, I don't like being alone in the half blind/half crazy club).