Disclaimer: If they were mine, I'd tell the books from Ron's POV.
Rating: PG-13 for mild language and light violence.
Chapter One-Disturbing News
Everyone in the Wizarding World was on edge these days with Lord Voldemort's declaration of war. Wizards and witches clutched wands in their hands instead of them being tucked safely away in their cloaks while walking briskly down the streets, eyeing everyone they passed as some sort of suspect. Parents did not let their children play outside after dark anymore for fear of that neighbor they always thought of being rather dodgy. Copies of The Daily Prophet flew off of shelves faster than ever as wizards flipped to the back cover to read the new list of the accused. Anyone could be a Death Eater. Anyone could be The Dark Lord's newest target. If you're a pureblood, you don't need to worry. There's no need to fret if you keep to yourself, either. But if you're a bright, curious Muggleborn who just so happens to be best friends with one Harry Potter, and current resident of a number twelve, Grimmauld Place, headquarters for The Order of the Phoenix.. Well, quite frankly, you wouldn't stand much of a chance.
The soothing sound of shower water falling in the adjacent loo should have calmed her. She's been on edge lately, just like everyone else. For once in her life, immersing her mind in her favorite book couldn't refocus Hermione Granger's thoughts. A soft sigh escaped her lips as she set the book on her bedside table, reluctantly leaving her warm blankets to change into her nightdress. After tossing her light blue t-shirt into the laundry basket, she caught her reflection in the full-length mirror and grimaced. Yes, she had small bags under her eyes from a lack of sleep, and her hair was definitely wilder from the July humidity, but that wasn't the cause of her wince. It was the ugly crescent-shaped bruise in the middle of her abdomen, right above her navel. Hermione ran her fingers lightly over the spot where she'd been hit with that wicked curse a little over a month earlier in the Department of Mysteries and sighed. "Why won't you go away?" She whispered to her reflection, biting her lip in concern. The pain had pretty much subsided, but if anything, the bruise darkened each day. It served as a reminder of the target on her back. While Lord Voldemort, Lucius Malfoy, Bellatrix Lestrange, and many other Death Eaters only had their eyes out for Harry, she knew of one who's goal was to bring her to her demise. Antonin Dolohov, the evil Death Eater who'd cursed her so badly, has a main goal in his life: Kill the Mudblood friend of Potter. Well, not specifically. She'd found out by eavesdropping with Harry and Ron on an Order meeting that Dolohov was given specific orders to capture her, torture her, gain any information about Harry, and then kill her. She figured Snape knicked this information while he was at one of Voldemort's Death Eater meetings. Harry soon told her what he learned in Dumbledore's pensieve in fourth year: Dolohov is known for hating muggleborns, and he was brought to trial for murdering them before.
She was knocked out of her reverie when the door creaked open. Hermione quickly threw on her nightdress, not wanting to cause a commotion about the bruise. There were more important things to worry about, especially in this house.
"Oh, I'm sorry! Did I startle you?" Ginny said apologetically, quickly shutting the door behind her. "Don't worry. All the boys are in bed-or raiding the kitchen, like usual. The pigs." She was wrapped in a terrycloth bathrobe, her hair tied up in a towel.
Hermione grinned rather forcibly, shrugging as she wriggled out of her jeans under her nightdress. "It's fine," she replied hastily, sitting back on her bed. "I was just reading." She motioned to her book as if it were evidence.
Ginny frowned. "I wish you'd tell me what's wrong, Hermione. You're my best friend, and you've been moping around for quite some time. Plus. you've been reading that book ever since you got here, and everyone knows you can finish that book in two days, tops." She unwrapped the turban-like towel on her head, damp crimson curls falling down her back. Tossing the towel to the floor nonchalantly, she hopped on her own bed, anxiously awaiting an answer.
"Nothing's wrong," Hermione said on reflex. She looked up to her best female friend and only confidante, giving an exasperated sigh. "Oh, all right. It's just. I ran away. That's why I came to Grimmauld Place early. There wasn't a business trip for my parents. We had a terrible row. They found a copy of The Daily Prophet in the garbage can, and refused to let me go back to Hogwarts."
Ginny's russet brows raised in concern. "Oh, Hermione. so they don't know where you've gone? Maybe you should owl them and tell them you're safe, just so they don't worry."
"I did. I told them that I wouldn't have it. There's no way I can stay away from Hogwarts. It's my life. It's where I belong. I have to stay with Harry and Ron." She gave a nervous sort of laugh. "Who else would keep them out of trouble?"
"Right you are, 'Mione." Ginny nodded in agreement, reaching over to grab six long pieces of parchment and her quill. She began scribbling away, deep in concentration. "Sorry, I wanted to finish this by tonight. I'm almost done."
Hermione grinned in delight. "Oh! That's your History of Magic essay, isn't it? You'll be glad you've gotten it done. I remember last year, we had to write about the Goblin Rebellion of 1492, and it took me five pieces of parchment, when only two was required. I mean, there was just SO much to write about it, you know? Especially with Grimlock and his-"
"Hermione, I'm not writing my History of Magic essay," Ginny confessed, her cheeks reddening slightly. "It's a letter to Dean, actually."
"Six pieces of parchment for one letter!" Hermione's brows shot up curiously. It amazed her how anyone could think of anything but this war. She was even having trouble concentrating on her summer assignments, much less writing a love letter. Not that Hermione's ever written a love letter before, but that's not the point.
"Wait until you fancy someone, then you'll see how easy it is to squeeze out six pieces of parchment for him." A coy smirk curved onto Ginny's expression. "Of course, there's no need to write a love letter if he's staying a few doors down."
Hermione looked absolutely scandalized. "Virginia Anne Weasley, if you're suggesting what I think you're suggesting, you'd better-"
"What, help you write a love letter to my big, strong, protective brother?" She sniggered, wrinkling her nose and shuddering in mock-disgust. She then ducked just in time as Hermione flung a pillow at her head.
"Oh, shut it already, would you? Why on earth would I fancy someone who's rude, lazy, downright disgusting at times-- especially when he drinks Pumpkin juice from the carton, infuriating, maddening, exasperating-"
"All right, all right! Merlin, Hermione." Ginny silently congratulated herself on her brilliant plan to stop Hermione from thinking of her parents, or whatever was making her so gloomy. She threw her pillow back at her, settling under her blankets as Hermione did the same. She set her letter aside and shut off her lamp, turning her back to Hermione. "Everyone sees it but you," she muttered, waiting for Hermione's retort.
The retort never came. Mrs. Weasley opened the door, and both girls pretended to be asleep. Hermione was so exhausted that as soon as she shut her eyes in mock slumber, she drifted off to dreamland for real.
Hermione's eyes fluttered open around eleven the next afternoon, because the sun was shining into her eyes and somehow her blankets had fallen to the floor. She gasped softly, realizing she'd never slept this late. She saw that Ginny was already out of bed by the rumpled sheets and missing body on the bed beside hers. She threw on her bathrobe over her nightgown and went downstairs to grab a spot of breakfast before helping Ginny with weed pulling outside. The scene in the kitchen was definitely not what she'd been expecting.
Professor Dumbledore was sitting at the kitchen table, speaking with Mrs. Weasley in hushed tones. "Ah, Miss Granger. Good morning." He nodded wisely, a twinkle in his eye.
"Good morning, Professor. Mrs. Weasley. I'm sorry for disturbing you, I'll just go see what Ginny's up to." She turned to exit the kitchen.
"Actually, dear, Professor Dumbledore wanted to speak with you." Hermione noticed she looked a bit peaky, probably with her sons and daughter all caught up in this mess. Fred and George's new shop in Diagon Alley had to undergo all new sorts of security charms. Charlie and Bill were constantly on call since they were members of the Order, and Percy hasn't been heard from since last Christmas. Hermione unwillingly admitted to herself that Mrs. Weasley seemed to age a lot quicker with the stress of a missing son, regardless of his accused betrayal to their side.
"Oh?" She slowly walked to the table, wringing her hands nervously. Had Professor Dumbledore known she'd run away? Would she be stripped of her Prefect badge? Hundreds of scenarios passed through her mind. "What about, sir?" she asked timidly, her lip caught between her teeth.
"Sit down, please," he motioned to the seat next to Mrs. Weasley, and when she sat down, he continued. "Hermione, as you very well know, a Death Eater named Antonin Dolohov is at large in the Wizarding world."
Hermione was about to deny this because she wasn't supposed to be eavesdropping with Harry and Ron on their last Order meeting, but she reminded herself that Professor Dumbledore knew everything. She blushed out of being rather ashamed of herself. "Yes, I've heard that."
"He's a very evil man, Miss Granger. He'll stop at nothing to carry out his orders from Voldemort. You are aware then, of his orders?"
She nodded meekly. "I'm sorry sir, we were just curious as to what was going on with the Order."
"That's not important, Hermione. What's important here is your safety. Dolohov will stop at nothing to get to you, and I don't feel you're safe at Hogwarts."
"But sir," Hermione squeaked, not believing her ears. "Nobody can Apparate onto Hogwarts' grounds."
"Yes, Miss Granger, I'm very aware of our tight security at the school, but as you're very well educated, you must know that there are still ways."
Hermione thought of Death Eater Peter Pettigrew disguised as Ron's pet rat, Scabbers, Rita Skeeter being an unregistered Animagus, and the whole incident with Mad-Eye Moody in fourth year. She sighed and nodded, staring at the table.
"Your parents have written me a letter concerning your safety. You need not be angry with them. This is my decision, and mine alone. I can't let you go back to Hogwarts just yet." His tone remained calm and serene as always, as he stared at her through his half-mooned spectacles.
Hermione gasped, shaking her head. "No, sir, please. I can't stay here. I need to go back-I have prefect duties and-and I'm in the N.E.W.T. level classes, I can't miss them! I have to stay for Harry, and for Ron."
"If all goes as planned, we'll capture Dolohov before the end of September, so you'll only miss a bit. I'm fairly certain you've read through most of the course material anyway, haven't you?"
She nodded, anxiously playing with the hemline of her robe.
"I have no doubt that your valedictorian status won't be jeopardized by this, Miss Granger. I am terribly sorry that your education will need to be put on pause, but it's for the best. Your safety is my number one priority."
Hermione sighed, nodding slowly. "So. am I going to stay here alone until you capture him?"
Dumbledore hesitated, and Mrs. Weasley wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulders, indicating that this wasn't the case.
"I'm afraid that you can't stay in the Wizarding World at all. It's far too dangerous. We're going to enroll you into a private Muggle secondary school in London for the time being."
"Muggle school! But sir, I can't! I haven't lived as a Muggle for so long! Their education system is a world's away, I couldn't possibly learn all of it by Septermber."
"You're not going there to get an education, dear," Mrs. Weasley interjected. "You're going there strictly for your safety. As is Ron, and I'll expect you two help each other. Especially him, dear. He'll be hopeless. He doesn't know the first thing about being a Muggle."
"Ron's going too?" Her eyes widened at the unexpected news.
"Yes, Hermione. We've been concerned for Ronald's safety for some time now as well. Peter Pettigrew is assigned to capture him, just as Dolohov is assigned to you. We can't have you two at Hogwarts, especially with all the information you know about the Order and Harry. They'll do anything. and I do mean most anything to get to you, and they'll use any means necessary to extract information from the two of you. They're cold, heartless, evil beings, Miss Granger. They'll stop at nothing to win."
Hermione was silent for a minute, her hands covering her face. "I can't believe this is happening," she whispered to herself, getting herself together and placing her hands onto the table in a businesslike manner. "All right, sir. If it's for the Order, and for Harry. I'll do whatever I have to do."
Dumbledore nodded graciously. "Yours and Mr. Weasley's sacrifice is greatly appreciated. The two of you will be in the same classes, so you'll be able to help each other through. It's a school much like Hogwarts, with remarkable academic merit, specific uniforms and highly selected students, and intelligent educators. While most students stay in dormitories, the two of you will be reporting to your house directly after classes, Hermione. I've discussed this with your parents, and they're more than willing to assist in keeping you and Ron as safe as possible. Magical wards were placed on your house, so you won't be able to be tracked down. But keep in mind that just because there are wards placed on your house, it doesn't mean you can send out letters. Especially to Harry or anyone at Hogwarts. It's too dangerous."
"I understand," she nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. She wished she'd stayed in bed that morning.
"I have to meet with Professor McGonagall concerning applicants for the Defense Against the Dark Arts position. If you have any questions, anything at all, let me know." He rose and started off towards the door, his long dark blue robes billowing behind him. He turned, smiling softly to Hermione. "I'm sorry about this, Miss Granger. I truly am. I'll put everything I can into capturing them so you and Ronald can return to Hogwarts as soon as possible. You have my word."
"Thank you, Professor," she managed, her voice shaking. Once he was out the front door, she politely excused herself from Mrs. Weasley. She ran upstairs into her and Ginny's room, collapsed onto her bed, curled up clutching her pillow, and started to cry.
Reviews are muchly loved and appreciated. :D Thank you!
Chapter One-Disturbing News
Everyone in the Wizarding World was on edge these days with Lord Voldemort's declaration of war. Wizards and witches clutched wands in their hands instead of them being tucked safely away in their cloaks while walking briskly down the streets, eyeing everyone they passed as some sort of suspect. Parents did not let their children play outside after dark anymore for fear of that neighbor they always thought of being rather dodgy. Copies of The Daily Prophet flew off of shelves faster than ever as wizards flipped to the back cover to read the new list of the accused. Anyone could be a Death Eater. Anyone could be The Dark Lord's newest target. If you're a pureblood, you don't need to worry. There's no need to fret if you keep to yourself, either. But if you're a bright, curious Muggleborn who just so happens to be best friends with one Harry Potter, and current resident of a number twelve, Grimmauld Place, headquarters for The Order of the Phoenix.. Well, quite frankly, you wouldn't stand much of a chance.
The soothing sound of shower water falling in the adjacent loo should have calmed her. She's been on edge lately, just like everyone else. For once in her life, immersing her mind in her favorite book couldn't refocus Hermione Granger's thoughts. A soft sigh escaped her lips as she set the book on her bedside table, reluctantly leaving her warm blankets to change into her nightdress. After tossing her light blue t-shirt into the laundry basket, she caught her reflection in the full-length mirror and grimaced. Yes, she had small bags under her eyes from a lack of sleep, and her hair was definitely wilder from the July humidity, but that wasn't the cause of her wince. It was the ugly crescent-shaped bruise in the middle of her abdomen, right above her navel. Hermione ran her fingers lightly over the spot where she'd been hit with that wicked curse a little over a month earlier in the Department of Mysteries and sighed. "Why won't you go away?" She whispered to her reflection, biting her lip in concern. The pain had pretty much subsided, but if anything, the bruise darkened each day. It served as a reminder of the target on her back. While Lord Voldemort, Lucius Malfoy, Bellatrix Lestrange, and many other Death Eaters only had their eyes out for Harry, she knew of one who's goal was to bring her to her demise. Antonin Dolohov, the evil Death Eater who'd cursed her so badly, has a main goal in his life: Kill the Mudblood friend of Potter. Well, not specifically. She'd found out by eavesdropping with Harry and Ron on an Order meeting that Dolohov was given specific orders to capture her, torture her, gain any information about Harry, and then kill her. She figured Snape knicked this information while he was at one of Voldemort's Death Eater meetings. Harry soon told her what he learned in Dumbledore's pensieve in fourth year: Dolohov is known for hating muggleborns, and he was brought to trial for murdering them before.
She was knocked out of her reverie when the door creaked open. Hermione quickly threw on her nightdress, not wanting to cause a commotion about the bruise. There were more important things to worry about, especially in this house.
"Oh, I'm sorry! Did I startle you?" Ginny said apologetically, quickly shutting the door behind her. "Don't worry. All the boys are in bed-or raiding the kitchen, like usual. The pigs." She was wrapped in a terrycloth bathrobe, her hair tied up in a towel.
Hermione grinned rather forcibly, shrugging as she wriggled out of her jeans under her nightdress. "It's fine," she replied hastily, sitting back on her bed. "I was just reading." She motioned to her book as if it were evidence.
Ginny frowned. "I wish you'd tell me what's wrong, Hermione. You're my best friend, and you've been moping around for quite some time. Plus. you've been reading that book ever since you got here, and everyone knows you can finish that book in two days, tops." She unwrapped the turban-like towel on her head, damp crimson curls falling down her back. Tossing the towel to the floor nonchalantly, she hopped on her own bed, anxiously awaiting an answer.
"Nothing's wrong," Hermione said on reflex. She looked up to her best female friend and only confidante, giving an exasperated sigh. "Oh, all right. It's just. I ran away. That's why I came to Grimmauld Place early. There wasn't a business trip for my parents. We had a terrible row. They found a copy of The Daily Prophet in the garbage can, and refused to let me go back to Hogwarts."
Ginny's russet brows raised in concern. "Oh, Hermione. so they don't know where you've gone? Maybe you should owl them and tell them you're safe, just so they don't worry."
"I did. I told them that I wouldn't have it. There's no way I can stay away from Hogwarts. It's my life. It's where I belong. I have to stay with Harry and Ron." She gave a nervous sort of laugh. "Who else would keep them out of trouble?"
"Right you are, 'Mione." Ginny nodded in agreement, reaching over to grab six long pieces of parchment and her quill. She began scribbling away, deep in concentration. "Sorry, I wanted to finish this by tonight. I'm almost done."
Hermione grinned in delight. "Oh! That's your History of Magic essay, isn't it? You'll be glad you've gotten it done. I remember last year, we had to write about the Goblin Rebellion of 1492, and it took me five pieces of parchment, when only two was required. I mean, there was just SO much to write about it, you know? Especially with Grimlock and his-"
"Hermione, I'm not writing my History of Magic essay," Ginny confessed, her cheeks reddening slightly. "It's a letter to Dean, actually."
"Six pieces of parchment for one letter!" Hermione's brows shot up curiously. It amazed her how anyone could think of anything but this war. She was even having trouble concentrating on her summer assignments, much less writing a love letter. Not that Hermione's ever written a love letter before, but that's not the point.
"Wait until you fancy someone, then you'll see how easy it is to squeeze out six pieces of parchment for him." A coy smirk curved onto Ginny's expression. "Of course, there's no need to write a love letter if he's staying a few doors down."
Hermione looked absolutely scandalized. "Virginia Anne Weasley, if you're suggesting what I think you're suggesting, you'd better-"
"What, help you write a love letter to my big, strong, protective brother?" She sniggered, wrinkling her nose and shuddering in mock-disgust. She then ducked just in time as Hermione flung a pillow at her head.
"Oh, shut it already, would you? Why on earth would I fancy someone who's rude, lazy, downright disgusting at times-- especially when he drinks Pumpkin juice from the carton, infuriating, maddening, exasperating-"
"All right, all right! Merlin, Hermione." Ginny silently congratulated herself on her brilliant plan to stop Hermione from thinking of her parents, or whatever was making her so gloomy. She threw her pillow back at her, settling under her blankets as Hermione did the same. She set her letter aside and shut off her lamp, turning her back to Hermione. "Everyone sees it but you," she muttered, waiting for Hermione's retort.
The retort never came. Mrs. Weasley opened the door, and both girls pretended to be asleep. Hermione was so exhausted that as soon as she shut her eyes in mock slumber, she drifted off to dreamland for real.
Hermione's eyes fluttered open around eleven the next afternoon, because the sun was shining into her eyes and somehow her blankets had fallen to the floor. She gasped softly, realizing she'd never slept this late. She saw that Ginny was already out of bed by the rumpled sheets and missing body on the bed beside hers. She threw on her bathrobe over her nightgown and went downstairs to grab a spot of breakfast before helping Ginny with weed pulling outside. The scene in the kitchen was definitely not what she'd been expecting.
Professor Dumbledore was sitting at the kitchen table, speaking with Mrs. Weasley in hushed tones. "Ah, Miss Granger. Good morning." He nodded wisely, a twinkle in his eye.
"Good morning, Professor. Mrs. Weasley. I'm sorry for disturbing you, I'll just go see what Ginny's up to." She turned to exit the kitchen.
"Actually, dear, Professor Dumbledore wanted to speak with you." Hermione noticed she looked a bit peaky, probably with her sons and daughter all caught up in this mess. Fred and George's new shop in Diagon Alley had to undergo all new sorts of security charms. Charlie and Bill were constantly on call since they were members of the Order, and Percy hasn't been heard from since last Christmas. Hermione unwillingly admitted to herself that Mrs. Weasley seemed to age a lot quicker with the stress of a missing son, regardless of his accused betrayal to their side.
"Oh?" She slowly walked to the table, wringing her hands nervously. Had Professor Dumbledore known she'd run away? Would she be stripped of her Prefect badge? Hundreds of scenarios passed through her mind. "What about, sir?" she asked timidly, her lip caught between her teeth.
"Sit down, please," he motioned to the seat next to Mrs. Weasley, and when she sat down, he continued. "Hermione, as you very well know, a Death Eater named Antonin Dolohov is at large in the Wizarding world."
Hermione was about to deny this because she wasn't supposed to be eavesdropping with Harry and Ron on their last Order meeting, but she reminded herself that Professor Dumbledore knew everything. She blushed out of being rather ashamed of herself. "Yes, I've heard that."
"He's a very evil man, Miss Granger. He'll stop at nothing to carry out his orders from Voldemort. You are aware then, of his orders?"
She nodded meekly. "I'm sorry sir, we were just curious as to what was going on with the Order."
"That's not important, Hermione. What's important here is your safety. Dolohov will stop at nothing to get to you, and I don't feel you're safe at Hogwarts."
"But sir," Hermione squeaked, not believing her ears. "Nobody can Apparate onto Hogwarts' grounds."
"Yes, Miss Granger, I'm very aware of our tight security at the school, but as you're very well educated, you must know that there are still ways."
Hermione thought of Death Eater Peter Pettigrew disguised as Ron's pet rat, Scabbers, Rita Skeeter being an unregistered Animagus, and the whole incident with Mad-Eye Moody in fourth year. She sighed and nodded, staring at the table.
"Your parents have written me a letter concerning your safety. You need not be angry with them. This is my decision, and mine alone. I can't let you go back to Hogwarts just yet." His tone remained calm and serene as always, as he stared at her through his half-mooned spectacles.
Hermione gasped, shaking her head. "No, sir, please. I can't stay here. I need to go back-I have prefect duties and-and I'm in the N.E.W.T. level classes, I can't miss them! I have to stay for Harry, and for Ron."
"If all goes as planned, we'll capture Dolohov before the end of September, so you'll only miss a bit. I'm fairly certain you've read through most of the course material anyway, haven't you?"
She nodded, anxiously playing with the hemline of her robe.
"I have no doubt that your valedictorian status won't be jeopardized by this, Miss Granger. I am terribly sorry that your education will need to be put on pause, but it's for the best. Your safety is my number one priority."
Hermione sighed, nodding slowly. "So. am I going to stay here alone until you capture him?"
Dumbledore hesitated, and Mrs. Weasley wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulders, indicating that this wasn't the case.
"I'm afraid that you can't stay in the Wizarding World at all. It's far too dangerous. We're going to enroll you into a private Muggle secondary school in London for the time being."
"Muggle school! But sir, I can't! I haven't lived as a Muggle for so long! Their education system is a world's away, I couldn't possibly learn all of it by Septermber."
"You're not going there to get an education, dear," Mrs. Weasley interjected. "You're going there strictly for your safety. As is Ron, and I'll expect you two help each other. Especially him, dear. He'll be hopeless. He doesn't know the first thing about being a Muggle."
"Ron's going too?" Her eyes widened at the unexpected news.
"Yes, Hermione. We've been concerned for Ronald's safety for some time now as well. Peter Pettigrew is assigned to capture him, just as Dolohov is assigned to you. We can't have you two at Hogwarts, especially with all the information you know about the Order and Harry. They'll do anything. and I do mean most anything to get to you, and they'll use any means necessary to extract information from the two of you. They're cold, heartless, evil beings, Miss Granger. They'll stop at nothing to win."
Hermione was silent for a minute, her hands covering her face. "I can't believe this is happening," she whispered to herself, getting herself together and placing her hands onto the table in a businesslike manner. "All right, sir. If it's for the Order, and for Harry. I'll do whatever I have to do."
Dumbledore nodded graciously. "Yours and Mr. Weasley's sacrifice is greatly appreciated. The two of you will be in the same classes, so you'll be able to help each other through. It's a school much like Hogwarts, with remarkable academic merit, specific uniforms and highly selected students, and intelligent educators. While most students stay in dormitories, the two of you will be reporting to your house directly after classes, Hermione. I've discussed this with your parents, and they're more than willing to assist in keeping you and Ron as safe as possible. Magical wards were placed on your house, so you won't be able to be tracked down. But keep in mind that just because there are wards placed on your house, it doesn't mean you can send out letters. Especially to Harry or anyone at Hogwarts. It's too dangerous."
"I understand," she nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. She wished she'd stayed in bed that morning.
"I have to meet with Professor McGonagall concerning applicants for the Defense Against the Dark Arts position. If you have any questions, anything at all, let me know." He rose and started off towards the door, his long dark blue robes billowing behind him. He turned, smiling softly to Hermione. "I'm sorry about this, Miss Granger. I truly am. I'll put everything I can into capturing them so you and Ronald can return to Hogwarts as soon as possible. You have my word."
"Thank you, Professor," she managed, her voice shaking. Once he was out the front door, she politely excused herself from Mrs. Weasley. She ran upstairs into her and Ginny's room, collapsed onto her bed, curled up clutching her pillow, and started to cry.
Reviews are muchly loved and appreciated. :D Thank you!