Help me, Harry.
That was what was written on the fake gold coins Hermione had the D.A. members use for meeting notifications. Harry Potter stared at the coin, a feeling of dread coursing through him. What did Hermione need help from? What was so bad that she had to resort to using the coins as a means of communication? Just then, another message flashed through and Hermione had told him her address. Grabbing the Invisibility cloak out of his trunk, he swung it around his shoulders, glanced at the address once more, and Apparated to the address that was flashing on the coin.
The first thing Harry Potter noticed right off the back was the Dark Mark littering the sky above the house. Heart sinking like a stone in his stomach, he held out his wand, determined to stop anyone who didn't belong. Creeping along into the house, Harry glanced around, spotting Mr. and Mrs. Ganger, dead in their study. His stomach clenched. Hermione. "Lumos." It was a quiet mutter underneath his breath to illuminate a pathway in the dark and desolate house. The air had a chilly draft about it and he knew the Death Eaters were long gone. Question was, what did they gain from murdering Hermione's parents? Don't let her be dead, please don't let Hermione be dead too.
It was a soft whimpering that first filtered to his ears, pausing him mid-step as he looked around from beneath his cloak. In his gut, he knew it was Hermione and he was desperate to get to her; to aid her in anyway that he could. He shone the light from the tip of his wand down the hallway and noticed a bookcase. The thing was, only one book looked to have been upended during the attack at the Grangers' house and Harry cautiously made his way to that side of the bookcase. Placing his hand on the book so he could pick it up, the book shelf slid off the wall, revealing a bushy-haired, tear-streaked Hermione who sent a well-aimed stunning spell that Harry dodged in the nick of time. "Hermione! It's me, Harry!"
"H-Harry?" A disheveled Hermione wondered, tears staining her skin. She dropped her wand with a clatter and flung herself into his open and waiting arms. Hugging her tightly as he hoped to provide an iota of comfort for her, Harry held her trembling form against his own body, rubbing a soothing hand against the small of her back as she shook in his arms.
"Shh, Mione," Harry murmured against her ear, holding her up as he offered a pillar of strength for her to rest her weary body against. "Its okay. Are they gone?"
Hermione hiccupped into his hold and he gave her all the time she needed to collect herself before she eventually spoke. "I-I think the Death Eaters are gone. Harry, my parents…"
"I know," he murmured soothingly, still rubbing her back. "I'm going to have to get you out of here. Hold onto my hand tightly and don't look into your study, alright?"
"A-Alright," she whispered. He interlocked their fingers and was quick to think of the one place she might find solace in, Apparating them to the Burrow the next moment. He wondered if she wanted to see Ron; he wondered if she sent Ron a coin message in the first place. Standing outside of his house, Harry watched as Hermione opened her eyes and looked around.
"The Burrow?" Hermione asked and Harry nodded.
"It's one of the few places I thought you might feel safe at," he replied, still not having let go of her hand. To his surprise, her mouth thinned a little, barely noticeable to anyone who didn't know the tells of one Hermione Granger and he looked at her, watching as she hitched a tiny and tremulous smile across her face the next minute.
"The Burrow sounds good," she agreed quietly. Just then, they heard a flustered voice call out across the lawn.
"Harry! Hermione! Heavens me, what on earth you guys doing here?" Molly Weasley asked as she hurried across her front lawn and towards them. Taking in Hermione's grief-stricken face, Molly paled. "What happened?"
Hermione bit down on her lip, shaking her head as she was seemingly too distraught to formulate a reply and Harry took over. "Her parents were murdered, Death Eaters. Can we come in?"
Mrs. Weasley gasped quietly, automatically embracing her in one of her famously warm hugs. As she held a trembling Hermione to her chest, she looked at Harry with tears obscuring her vision. "Of course, dear. You both know you're always welcome here. I don't see suitcases for either one of you so we'll fetch your things later. Let's just get Hermione inside and with a nice cup of hot tea, hmm?"
Hermione didn't answer and Harry smiled tiredly. "That sounds great, Mrs. Weasley, thanks."
Mrs. Weasley wrapped an arm around Hermione's shoulders and guided her into the house, Harry following behind after them as he did a sweep of the yard to see if anyone who didn't belong there was there. After not seeing anyone that didn't belong, Harry followed in after them and shut the door softly, hearing Mrs. Weasley's quiet voice filtering through the front room from the kitchen. Heading in that general direction, Harry spotted the Weasley monarch at the stove, dealing with the tea and Hermione sitting in a chair at the kitchen table looking as small as Harry could ever remember seeing her. It tore at his heart. "Ron's in his room. He didn't see you guys Apparate into the front yard. He'll be downstairs in a moment." She threw a hopeful look at Hermione but for as still as the brunette was being, Harry wondered if she had even heard the other woman.
Mrs. Weasley brought over the cup of tea for Hermione and placed it in front of her. "Here we are, dear."
Blinking, Hermione thanked Mrs. Weasley quietly and took a sip, causing Harry to wince when he noticed the teacup shaking against it's saucer. Turning to Harry, she spoke. "Where are my mum and dad?"
Harry closed his eyes against the onslaught of pain he felt washing over him. He didn't want her to have to think about that at all. "Mione, they're gone." It was the most gentle way he could remind her of what had happened, not the least bit surprised her mind was trying to protect itself, and he watched as a shudder wracked through her thin frame.
"Right, the Death Eaters," she said, voice sounding as if it were detached. He understand what she was doing; tearing herself away from the pain of the murders. He had done it a time or two before as well. He looked on at her sadly, feeling the very same pain she was feeling right then. It cut into him like a knife and it wasn't the first time he felt his best friend's pain on an intimate level. When she was attacked at the Ministry of Magic during their Fifth year, he felt paralyzed from the very real fear he felt at the thought of her dying. Had she not survived the curse Dolohov put on her, he didn't think he'd have survived either. Ron was a great friend; very much like a brother to him but Hermione…Hermione was everything. She had been there since the beginning and took his side even when the entire school was against him. He owed her his life ten times over again and then some. That's why he knew he had to be there for her.
Crouching down in front of her, Harry gripped her hand tightly, forcing her to make eye contact with him and to not look away. Once he could ascertain he had her attention, he began speaking in quiet tones. "No matter how hard things will get in the future – and they undoubtedly will – I'll always be here for you, Hermione. You can believe that."
Her lips shook once.
Twice.
Three times.
And then she wailed.