Chapter 3: Death Eaters and Delightful Dining

"I cannot believe this! The lot of you are incompetent, blundering fools! How difficult can it be to find one insignificant Mudblood?!"

"If she's so insignificant, why are you having this hissy-fit?"

"Do shut up, Bellatrix. You know very well why we're trying to find the filthy little Mudblood."

Almost instantly, the tip of a wand was at Lucious Malfoy's throat. "You forget who you are dealing with, Lucy. Cousin or not, I will not hesitate to kill you," Bellatrix sneered.

"Yes well, dear cousin, I don't think our master would be pleased with your unwarranted disposal of me. And I do wish you wouldn't call me that," said the blonde Death Eater, who, despite his snarkily smirking expression, was trying doubly hard to keep the quiver out of his voice. For all his money, power, and prestige, it couldn't help his fear of his wife's cousin. The woman was ruthless to a fault, loyal to no one but Voldemort.

"Ha! As if the Dark Lord actually cares if you croak or not."

"I should hope so! I am, after all, the catalyst in his most recent plans."

-.- "He's using your vendetta against the Mudblood out of convenience so that he won't have to waste energy killing her himself, Lucy," she voiced monotonously, her expression deadpan.

"Think what you want, Bellatrix. But back to the task at hand. Why haven't you and Dolohov found Granger yet."

"Because, idiot, Dumbledore has placed a plethora of protection barriers and wards on the place of her dwelling. We can't find it with a locater spell, much less a map."

"Blast that old fool and his dirty little tricks."

"You know what this means don't you?" came the inquiry of a new voice, just approaching from another room.

"Oh please, do tell, Dolohov."

"We'll have to risk a public attack. It's obvious that we'll never get the girl until she's out in the open and possibly unprotected."

Hermione Granger was absolutely frantic. How could her parents just sit and drink tea so calmly when in no more than ten minutes, Ginny and Mr. Weasley would be arriving to take them to the Burrow?

About a week or so earlier, Hermione'd gotten a letter from Ron, asking if they could get together at least once before the summer was over, maybe try to salvage their friendship. Hermione knew better, however. She knew what Ron really wanted, and while this was the perfect opportunity to tell him what she couldn't in a letter, she wasn't sure she could go through with it.

She truly did love Ron dearly, just not the way he wanted her to. Also, she didn't see Harry's name mentioned once in that entire letter. This, of course, lead her to believe Ron was still a little sore at him and hadn't included him in his plans at all. That'd ruffled her feathers a bit…

She had thought about writing Harry to ask him for advice, but how could she when he was right in the middle of it all? And most likely, he was still grieving over Sirius.

In a last ditch effort, she asked her mum about it( her father hadn't even known she'd had a boyfriend). Hermione was extremely glad she did, for her mum suggested they make it into a group effort and go on sort of a family picnic. God bless her brilliant mother!

So here she was, mentally preparing herself for the ordeal to come, wishing to God above that Harry would have been there so that she wouldn't have to be with Ron by herself. On the bright side of things, Ginny would be there, and she could perhaps take some of the pressure off. And then there was Bast, too…

It had been several weeks or so since Bast was brought to her doorstep, and Hermione had to say that she loved every minute of it. Her shaggy companion was sometimes, in her opinion, like an overly large person on all-fours. The only complaint she had was that he followed her everywhere except the loo.

She smiled at that thought, looking down at the huge, furry lump snoozing at her feet. While musing, she had been absently rubbing her bare feet through his fur, a motion that she hadn't noticed was slowly soothing her as well as him.

Hermione was, however, quite suddenly brought out of her revere by a loud crash, sounding as if came from the living room. Both she and Bast were up and running to see what all the commotion was, and were both struck with a sudden bit of fondness by the endearing sight before them. Stumbling out of the fireplace, dusty and coughing, were Ginny Weasley and her father.

"Ginny!" The young red-head looked up from her coughing spurt to see one of her very best friends… who looked almost completely different from when she'd seen her last. She had to say, Hermione had grown a lot since they parted ways at King's Cross station. Her friend was just a slight bit taller, and slimmer. Her body had filled out in the places expected, almost all traces of baby fat gone. The biggest change, however, was the condition of her usually-bushy hair. Instead of the untamable mass it had been, it now fell elegantly down her back, almost to her waist in delicate, glossy curls. Ron was so going to freak.

"Oh my God, Hermione! You look so good!" the younger girl exclaimed, running with open arms to grab her friend in a tight, sisterly hug.

"It's so good to see you, Gin," squealed Hermione as she eagerly excepted the embrace. She heard a loud groan of protest at the offending noise, and looked down to find the source was Bast, whose ears were flattened back against his head.

She laughed lightly as she pulled away from Ginny and placed a hand to the top of the feline's head, which she had no problems reaching since his head came about mid-torso.

"Sorry, love, but it's not often I get to gush like that. Bear with me if you can," she said, winking at him while ruffling his fur.

"Whoa, where'd you get this bloke from? He's absolutely the hugest cat I've ever seen, even more so than the ones the muggles keep in those zoo-whatchamacallits."

"Lupin brought him to me for the summer. I hope you don't mind, but he'll be coming with us on the picnic. He's been stuck in the house since he got here, and I think it would be great if he could have the room to roam about a bit."

"It's alright with me, though he might scare Mum and Ron witless," Ginny snickered at the thought. "I'm sure he'll provide excellent protection against my brother for you."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, ever since the start of the summer, all that git's been talking about is when he found you and Harry curled up together under the tree beside the lake. He's obsessed over the idea that Harry's trying to steal you away, convinced himself that you're the one thing Harry can't have and that it's eating him up."

"That's the most horrible, far-fetched bullocks I've ever heard! That is exactly why he and I cannot have a healthy relationship. His bloody insecurities cloud his better judgment and he ends up coming off like a pig-headed, jealous prat!" Hermione fumed.

"Yes yes, I know that, Hermione. Like you said, he's got the emotional range of a teaspoon, but at this point it can't be helped."

"The more you talk like that, Gin, the more I'm wondering if this picnic was such a good idea."

"Oh, I don't know about that. It would probably do you some good to get out of the house and away from your books. I just know you've finished all the summer homework by now," Ginny teased.

"Har har, Weasley. Yes, as a matter of fact, I did finish all my homework. It gives me more free time to spend with my big man here," she said, pointedly running her hand through Bast's thick coat, who was enjoying this extra attention immensely.

Ginny giggled. "You've got him completely spoiled, Hermione," she said as she watched the large feline lean against the older girl affectionately. So caught up in her own amusement, she did not notice the feral look in the beast's eyes.

'That stupid git!' Harry thought darkly. 'He always has to blow things out of proportion! The bloody idiot needs to learn that everything doesn't revolve around him. That's alright though. Since ickle Ronnikins is so convinced that something's happened between Hermione and me, well, I certainly am not one to disappoint.' His eyes held a mischievous glint. 'This picnic is suddenly turning out to be a lot more interesting than I originally wagered...'

After what seemed an eternity in the Floo network, The Grangers and Bast, along with Ginny and Mr. Weasley finally arrived at the Burrow. Being that Hermione's parents had never seen a completely magically run home, they were a little more than astonished at all the going's on around the place.

Waiting for them in the kitchen was Mrs. Weasley, who seemed beside herself with giddiness at having company for the first time in a while. She ran to envelope Hermione in one of her patented Molly Weasley bear-hugs, but stopped short with a shriek of surprise when she saw the humongous creature standing like a sentinel at the young witch's side.

"What is that thing?! And what is it doing in my house?!" Luckily, before Hermione could let out her indignant reply that Bast was not just some 'thing', Ginny stepped up to the plate.

"Mum, please don't get upset okay? She's doing a favor for Professor Dumbledore by keeping him, and she couldn't exactly leave him cooped up in the house all day."

"That's right Mrs. Weasley. I promise, he'll be no trouble at all. As a matter of fact, he's the most well-behaved wild animal I've ever encountered," interjected Mr. Granger on his daughter's behalf.

"Oh… oh alright, if he must be here. Anyway, the food is prepared and ready so lets be on our way, dearies. Ronald, get down here this instant; our guests have arrived!"

There was the sound of heavy feet making their way down the stairs, and Hermione unknowingly tightened her grip around Bast's leash.

And suddenly, everything she had been dreading this summer had come to pass. Ron Weasley appeared at the bottom the stairs, looking the same as ever. He looked no different then when she'd last seen him, except that he had grown a few inches taller, and his chest and shoulders were a bit broader. His rust-red hair was longer than she remembered it, reminding her a bit of Fred and George in third year.

No sooner than his foot stopped on the last step and into the kitchen, did his eyes fall on her almost immediately.

"Hiya herms! It's been a long time," he said with this ridiculously huge grin on his face.

Hermione tried to smile back but it came out more like a grimace than a grin.

"Hi Ron. Yes, it has been a while at that. I hope your summer's been going well," she said politely as she could.

Little did she know, she wouldn't have to worry about his advances today, for as soon as he began to approach her, a low, deep growl could be heard from her side.

Bast stepped protectively out in front of her, ears flattened back against his head and teeth bared in a vicious snarl His slit green eyes locked onto the now terrified young wizard with a look of pure malice.

Now, of course, Harry held no real animosity for his best mate, but he did want to make this look good. Besides, it would do the prat some good to be scared out his mind after all the crap he probably said about Hermione.

As soon as Bast took his first step towards the boy, Hermione pulled back on his leash, and he obediently stopped his advances but kept his eyes locked on Ron.

This was just too funny! Ron was probably going to try his hand at killing him when he found out who was really under the panther skin.

"Bast! What has gotten into you? I'm so sorry, Ron, he's never reacted like this to anyone before," Hermione said, sounding more natural just then than she had since Ron walked into the room. Truth be told, she was actually a little relieved that she did bring Bast. His reaction to Ron had been unexpected, but most welcome now that she knew this meant she wouldn't have to deal with what would undoubtedly be his attempt to try and get their relationship going again.

Mr. Weasley had been quiet through out the entire ordeal. At the moment, he had a firm grip on his flustered wife's shoulders, all the while trying to hide the amused smile that threatened to overtake his features. To anyone else, it would seem rather unusual and maybe even a little cruel that he would be amused at his youngest son's plight. But everyone else didn't know what he knew, nor did they know that the youth deserved it.

Mr. Weasley was well-aware of the things his son'd said about Hermione and Harry, and he didn't approve at all. He was also aware of the fact that, that panther feigning amplified dislike for his son was none other than Harry Potter.

Being a member of the Order, he knew of Dumbledore's plans of keeping Hermione safe, and he knew that Harry was a major part of them.

He had to say, he was extremely impressed with the progress Harry had made. No one, not even his father and the other Marauders (excluding Lupin) were ever able to achieve a full animagus transformation so quickly. The boy was just full of surprises, and this newest development was one of them. The same went for his fierce protectiveness of the young woman holding him back by a leash.

Mr.Weasley was no fool, he knew that not all of what Harry was doing was fake. He truly cared for Hermione a great-deal, on a level he was sure neither of them noticed just yet. But the way he stood in front of her now, almost possessively, was evidence enough.

"Right then, everyone," Mr. Weasley said, breaking the silence, "I imagine the food must be getting cold. Why don't we all head down to the meadow and get this picnic started."

That seemed to be all Ron needed to hear; he beat a hasty retreat before anyone could breath a word.

Everyone else, not knowing what to do, followed after him. Ginny, who had been giggling behind her hand during the whole ordeal, merely winked at Hermione in a gesture that clearly meant 'I told you so' as she walked past her and out the backdoor.

The older witch glared at her friend playfully, yet she couldn't help but feel the slightest bit grateful to her furry companion.

Speaking of which, why exactly was he nudging her legs with his nose as if he were trying to tell her something?

"What is it, love?" she asked him, a little startled and confused when he grabbed her wrist in his mouth and began pulling her towards his back, albeit very gently.

"I think, perhaps, he wants you to get on his back, Hermione," interjected a suspiciously smiling Mr. Weasley.

"Bast, I couldn't do that. I'd be much too heavy for you," she tried to reason, but he just shook his shaggy head as if to say no, and began nudging his side against her persistently.

"Maybe you should take him up on the offer, Hermione. After all, the meadow is a good half a mile's hike from here. Not to mention Bast, as you call him, is huge and looks to be very strong. I don't see where he'd have a problem in carrying you," spoke the fathering Weasley once again. He knew he shouldn't be pushing this up, judging by the looks his lovely wife was giving him, but really this was all just too much fun.

"Oh… oh, I suppose you're right, but… if I get too heavy for you, let me know okay?" Sighing at the ridiculousness of it all, Hermione climbed onto Bast's back as she was bid… and was surprised to find just how solid it felt. (A/n: Just think Battle Cat)

Harry, on the other side of things, was enjoying this immensely…

Only until he felt she had braced herself did he move. He would have smirked if he could, when he heard her 'eep' once he'd trotted off.

He could barely feel Hermione's weight on his back, only just enough that was comfortable and more pleasant than he'd originally imagined. Even while in motion, he still didn't really feel the pressure. Although, it was slightly logical if you looked at it right. He was after all, a 5 to 600 pound predator, fashioned mostly of muscle. And here was Hermione, probably no more than a hundred and ten pounds of softness and curves, a feather-weight really.

He liked how she held onto the tuft of fur 'round his neck so that she wouldn't fall off; not that he'd let her fall anyway. He loved the way she seemed to have relaxed against him and was completely at ease with what should have been very unusual for her.

To be honest, Harry felt better now than he had in months. There was this warmth inside him that he couldn't exactly place, a warmth that was only present when Hermione was around.

At the moment, though, he was just content to enjoy himself…

The meadow was nothing but green lushness, rolling hills, and clear blue skies. To feel the soft grass under your naked toes and the cool breeze flowing through the many shade trees, it was heaven to behold.

And Harry had to agree…

So far, things were going well. The food had been extraordinarily good, and everyone was laughing and talking about various things. The Weasley couple and the Grangers were discussing muggle life-style, Ginny and Hermione were talking about the up and coming school term, and Ron… Ron spent his time quietly stuffing his face and grumbling, all the while glaring at Bast.

He wasn't exactly paying him any attention at the moment, not that he could spare it anyway. He was gloriously full from that delicious roast and fried chicken courtesy of Mrs. Weasley, and he was currently having his ears scratched and belly rubbed by two of Hogwarts' most attractive witches. Harry didn't think it could get any better than this, especially with his head in Hermione's lap, completely surrounded by her most enthralling, intoxicating scent. He really hadn't known just how good Crookshanks had it 'till now. Also, this vantage point gave him the unexpected opportunity to better observe his female best friend.

One of the first things he found himself noticing was the way she dressed. Oh, he'd seen her dress casually during Hogsmeade weekends and all that, but otherwise, it was always that drab uniform and black robes. Today, however, was quite a different story.

She was wearing a baby-blue tank top and a pair of denim shorts that were cut to mid-thigh. While they were on the way to the meadow, she had pinned her hair up into a high-ponytail, exposing the graceful arc of her neck.

He'd never seen her show that much skin in the entire time he'd known her, and he couldn't bring himself to complain. Although, he did have his misgivings about Ron seeing her that way; didn't want the bloke to get any ideas.

Another thing he noticed was Hermione's difference in behavior. For some reason, he had never expected her to be so… what was the word… feminine, yeah. And yet, here she was gushing over some muggle magazine with Ginny, discussing how 'hot' or not some guy was of all things.

"Oh come on, Hermione, you cannot tell me James Marsters isn't hot! Look at him!" she practically screamed, holding up the magazine so Hermione could see.

"Yes, I suppose. He's alright if you like that sort. And anyway, I'm much more partial to that American muggle actor. I think his name is Johnny Depp. Oh and I can't forget Drew Fuller. He's absolutely adorable, reminds me a bit of Harry."

"Who'd have thought it…"

"Thought what? That Ginevra Weasley would have a thing for snooty blondes?" Hermione asked innocently. (hint hint)

Ginny gave her hard look, before a small, sinister smile graced her lips.

"No, that Hogwart's most brilliant witch to date would have a thing for the tall, dark, and handsome type. Perhaps those with… ahem… scars in particular places, maybe?"

"Ginny!"

"What, not that then? Hmm… perhaps you might have a thing for red-heads then," Ginny wanted to laugh so badly at the awestruck expression on her friend's face. She was blinking owlishly, and her face was all red, ripe with embarrassment she was sure. God if only Colin were here now!

"That was so low, Gin."

"Yes I know, but it was great playback for that crack you made. Perhaps you didn' realize that my mother and father, including my overly protective git of a brother, are less than 4 feet away."

They were so engrossed in their conversation that they hadn't even thought that perhaps someone might be listening in, someone right under their noses.

Truthfully, Harry had been half dozing during most of the conversation. But when he'd heard his name mentioned, or rather, his description minus the handsome part, he found himself a bit taken aback.

Were they talking about him? Did Hermione really go for that type of guy… his type? And why the bloody hell was he even thinking about this sort of thing anyway?

"Um.. Hermione? Could I… er… talk to you a second? Alone?" The sudden appearance of Ron had Harry fully awake and instantly on his feet, as well as jarring the girls out of their conversation.

"Er… sure Ron. Why don't we go over there by that tree?" Hermione suggested, making sure to point out a place in view of everyone. She inwardly sighed with relief when Bast tagged along beside her, as if to give her moral support. Lord knows she would need it.

As they reached their destination, Ron immediately launched into his planned speech,

which came out rather forced.

"Um… listen, Hermione… I… well that is to say… I was wondering ifyouandIcouldgetbacktogether?" he said a bit too quickly, though Hermione understood every word.

"I don't know about that, Ron. I mean, don't you think it was a bit of a disaster when we tried the first time? All we did was argue, and it got worse and worse everyday."

"I'm willing to work at it though, you know, try to stop arguing with you so much."

"That's almost the entirety of our conversations, Ron." -.-

"Come on, Hermione, let's just give it another shot. Besides, everybody at school thinks we make a great couple."

"This isn't about every one at school. It's about you and me, and jeopardizing our friendship further if we continue with a relationship that obviously wasn't working to begin with. Besides, how could you have listened to anything anyone else was saying when you were too busy accusing them of trying to steal me away, and being jealous the entire time?"

"Well any man who finds his supposed girlfriend curled up in a rather romantic spot, watching the sunset with his best mate has every right to be jealous!"

"That's totally unfair, Ron, and you know it!"

"Oh I know it, huh? You were practically in his lap, Hermione! Sitting there, watching the lake like you were a couple or something! When the entire time, you were supposed to be MY girlfriend!"

"There you go again with that possessive attitude of yours! I am no one's toy or trophy to carry around, and I'm starting to think that's all you wanted me for in the first place!"

"Oh sure, think what you like little miss 'Oh Harry, are you alright? Oh Harry, can I get you anything? Oh Harry, want to hold me tight and snog me senseless?' I could practically see it in your eyes! Bloody bastard has to get everything, leaving me in the dark, always in his bloody shadow!"

"Now you just stop right there, Ronald Weasely. Harry cannot help that he has the fame and the fortune that he bloody got from the death of his PARENTS! Two things which you still have let me remind you. He doesn't want to be the Boy-Who-Lived, because it's at the cost of his happiness. He NEVER wanted ANY of those things… all he wants is to be loved and have a family, something he thinks he'll never experience now because one of the last links to his parents is gone from this world! I cannot believe that you would even dare to think he enjoys any moment of being in the spot-light. He isn't an attention seeking, self-centered, egotistical, insecure prat like you!

And you know what Ronald? Until you can straighten yourself out and get a clue, I want you to forget I exist for a while. Maybe then you can take the time to realize that not every damn thing in the bloody world revolves around you," she said the last part in a menacing whisper, her usually warm brown eyes full of cold rage.

To say Ron was speechless was an understatement…

He now knew new levels of shock and utter surprise as he stared down at Hermione, who he now realized had grown up a great deal. Right now though, she was so mad she was shaking. A lone tear had escaped it's prison, trailing it's way down her face, and her fists were squeezed tightly at her sides.

And as she turned and walked away from him, he felt a lead weight pressing the pit of his stomach, the validity of her words sinking in…