Hermione felt the ground beneath her feet before she opened her eyes. Harry's portkey had send her to a small, dim room, with the only light squeezing through the pulled shades. She looked at the bed, her eyes falling on a ginger colored ball of fluff. Crookshanks lifted him head sleepily, saw her, and leapt from the bed into her arms.

Harry apperated next to her, instantly pulling her into his arms. Crookshanks purred between them as Hermione stood, nearly dumbfounded at her current situation.

"How did you..."

"You're not the only one who's come of age," said Harry, pulling away. He held her shoulders at arms length, adding, "This is Grimmauld Place. Look," he walked over to where two large Hogwart's trunks rested against the wall. He took a wand from atop one of them, held it out to her. "Dumbledore sent me your wand. Said you lost it on the muggle underground."

"I fell trying to get away from..." She stopped at she took the wand, feeling the familiar wood with her fingertips. "You know, I don't really know who I was running from."

"They were members of the Order who were trying to get you. They've been looking for you since you sent your things to me."

"I wish they had been watching you instead," said Hermione, hugging Crookshanks tightly.

Harry sighed. "I can take care of myself, you know."

"No, I don't know." Hermione sighed. "I don't mean to insult you or anything, but Voldemort is after you and..."

"He's been after me my whole life," Harry reminded her.

"But not like this..." Sobs overtook her and tears she hadn't noticed forming began to spill down her cheeks. "Harry, he's so much stronger now. I just don't..."

"Know if I can beat him?" Harry smiled at her shocked expression. "I think everyone's thought that a some time. Ron was telling me the other day..."

"This is serious, Harry!" said Hermione, nearly screaming at him. She calmed, taking a deep breath.

Harry stepped to her again, holding her forearms as he spoke. "I know. I'm sorry." He watched her cry, wanting more than anything to make the tears stop. "He's been getting stronger, but so have I." He knew she wanted to be left alone, but he was far to curious to just leave her to herself.

"Hermione, why did you run? Really?" He added the last when he saw her head shoot up and the expression on her face.

"I just...I wanted to get out of the way." She let Crookshanks down on the bed, though he did not settle was continue to stand and press her head into her hand. She petted him absently. "I wanted them to focus on watching out for you. If they didn't have to look after me, they could put that much more effort into you."

Harry tried to understand her reasoning, deciding that, for the first time in her life, Hermione hadn't known what to do. She had been torn between her own safety and that of her family and friends. Harry tried to imagine how she had survived in muggle London in the past weeks.

Exhaustion evident on her face, and Harry led her to the bed and helped her stretch out. Crookshanks sank next to her, curling up as close to her as he could. Harry sat in a chair next to her, waiting for her to relax before he spoke.

"Rest for a bit, Hermione. You can't apparate out of this room, so don't try it. Just stay put and sleep for awhile." He pushed a brown strand away from her cheek, seeing that her eyes were already closed and her chest rose and fell calmly. He ran his hand over Crookshanks absently, then walked silently out of the room.

The door shut behind him, and he tapped the doorknob twice with his wand. Now the door could not be opened from the inside, nor would the window's open. Pushing the wand back into his pocket, he walked down the stairs and into the kitchen, where Mrs. Weasly was clearing the table.

"Hello, Harry dear. I didn't realize you'd gotten back. There's some leftover on the counter if you'd like something to eat."

"No thanks," said Harry, taking a few plates and carrying them to the sink for her. "Where'd everybody go?"

"Oh, you know how it is. In one minute, gone the next. Ron and Ginny went to see Fred and George's shop. I told them to wait for you, but we didn't know when you'd be back." She stopped, looking Harry over. "Is something going on, Harry? You look...different."

Harry couldn't help the smile that began to cross his face. "I found Hermione."

The mug that Mrs. Weasly had been holding, began to fall to the floor. Harry held out his hand, mumbling a spell, stopping the cup in midair. It floated casually to the table.

Mrs. Weasly, far too used to Harry's new talent to dote on it, covered her mouth with both hands. "She's here? Now?"

Harry nodded. "She's totally worn out. I doubt she's slept in a few days, plus she taught herself to apparate and it didn't go so well for her." He walked to Mrs. Weasly and pulled her into an embrace as tears began to stream down the woman's face. "She's fine, Mrs. Weasly. She's fine."

Hermione's eyes sprang open, and she sat up too quickly. The room began to spin, and she fell back onto her pillow as she regained her balance. Crookshanks crooked face appeared before her, and she gasped first then smiled.

Taking him in her arms, she stood and walked to the door. The knob turned, as though to open the door, the the door did not move. Hermione tried to lean into the door, to force it open, but it was no use.

"Harry James Potter! You let me out of this room right this minute!" she shouted, letting Crookshanks onto the floor as she banged with both fists on the door.

"Back up a bit and I will!" came the reply. Hermione stepped back, finding a chair and sitting down in it. The door swung open slowly, revealing Harry with a tray of food balanced on one hand and his wand in the other.

"You didn't have to lock me in, you know." Hermione smiled softly as he presented the food to her. A bowl of soup and a plate of sweets sparked a hunger she hadn't realized she had, and she began to eat quickly.

Harry sat in the opposite chair, waiting for her to finish. He lifted the tray away with his wan, placing it outside the room and into the hallway. "I'll get it later." The door shut again.

Hermione sighed. "Harry, I've been running for the past month. I'm too tired to go any further."

"That's not to keep you in," said Harry, sighing. "I need to keep the others out. Mrs. Weasly won't be able to keep this quiet for long, so this way we can talk without hearing them."

When Hermione didn't say anything, Harry scooted his chair closer, taking her hands in his. He jumped slightly at how cold they were, and he rubbed them absently as he spoke. "Come on , Hermione. I know there's an actual reason you ran away. It doesn't make any sense that you would hide from the Order so they would spend more time on me. You knew they'd come looking for you." He tried to look at her face, too see if her expression changed at all, but she continued to stare at her lap.

"So, then I thought, 'what does Hermione know that even the Order doesn't?'" He paused, waiting. When she didn't move, he said, "I wrote to Dumbledore after I got your letter. He said he never sent you an owl, nor were there any tips that Voldemort was targeting you or Ron."

Hermione lifted her head, the tears she had fought back now trickled down her cheek, though no sobs threatened to choke her. "What does it matter?"

"It matters," said Harry, squeezing her hands, "because I want to know what made you run so I can fix it. I never want you to feel like you have to get away again. I want you here, with me."

Hermione shook her head. "I"m just a burden. I should be gone so the Order..."

"The Order cares as much for you as it does for me." The interruption startled Hermione, and Harry continued. "I just want to know..."

"I don't know, ok? I don't want you to die, so I ran!"

Before Harry could react, Hermione was in his arms and sobbing into his shoulder. The two slid to the floor, and Harry held her as she cried. Confusion kept him silent as she calmed herself and pulled away from him, sitting on her knees.

"I received a letter," she said, pushing hair away from her face. The stubborn strands had started to regain their curl again as she slept, and now much of her hair spilled over her shoulders to pile in her lap. "It didn't say who it was, just that I had to get away. That I had to get away from my parents, from the Order, and especially from you. If I didn't, the thing I dread most would happen before the next moon."

"Sounds like one of Twelawny's predictions," joked Harry, but her expression made him regret making the joke.

"I didn't know what to do. I thought it might be a hoax, but the letters were a deep read and as soon as I read it, it burst into flames and nearly caught my bed sheets on fire. I was afraid of who it might have been from, so I did exactly what it said. I ran."

"It could have been from Voldemort, Hermione," said Harry, urgently. "He could have been trying to lure you away and..."

"I know. Don't you think I thought through every possibility? Don't you think I thought of everything before I just ran? It wasn't logical, but it just...I don't know...felt right to go. Like someone was looking out for me or something." She sighed. She recounted her encounter with Mr. Malfoy. "I know now it was to get me on my own, but I guess even Voldemort couldn't find me at first."

"I'll kill Malfoy myself," mumbled Harry, but Hermion shook her head at this.

"Leave that to me." She smiled briefly.

Harry looked at her, asking, "So what does this have to do with you not wanting me to die?"

"Sometimes, Harry, you're so thick." A chuckle escaped her lips, a smile forming beneath her tears. "You dying is the thing I dread most."

Taken aback, Harry's mind replayed to a moment over a year before, when Mrs. Weasly had struggled to fight off a boggart that took the form of Harry's dead body. He struggled to smile, but couldn't as tears began to form in his own eyes.

"Hermione," he started, pushing a rebel strand of hair from her face. "If I'm going to die anytime soon, then I want to spend as much time with the people I love as possible. So, don't run away from me. With Voldemort's power growing as fast as it is, we might not have that much time to waste."

"How can you be so calm about it?"

Harry shrugged. "It won't do anyone any good to mope about it. All I can hope is that I take Voldemort with me."

Hermione still seemed skeptical. "You're really not scared of dying?"

"Oh, I'm scared of dying," admitted Harry, running his hand over his hair and ruffling the short locks. "But, I've known the risks since I was eleven. And so have you, you know."

Hermione nodded, feeling new tears beginning to form. Harry pulled her to him, letting her cry into his shoulder.

"But I don't want you to go," she mumbled, wrapping her arms around his waist, as if trying to keep him next to her forever.

"I'm not gone yet," replied Harry, kissing the top of her head.