In this chapter the Order members gather together to discuss strategies, but Hermione finds it very difficult to get their cooperation. The other members are faithless and unsupportive; this makes her task extra difficult.

"Christ sake shut up everybody!" I yell in a maddening attempt to hush the hustle and bustle of the Order members. Officially this is the first Order meeting in about a decade and an unfortunate choice of chair has been decided – myself! I look around the room. Harry is sat, still unshaven and dishevelled, making snide remarks to Fred about how my schemes are futile. Fred nods in agreement every now and then but glances over to me, obviously still trusting me. Snape scowls at the back, a shadow looming over him from the tapestry hung up on the opposite wall. He has successfully managed to find a place to see but not be seen, although I am perfectly aware of his presence. He has decided not to draw attention to himself, as many Order members would naturally distrust a man whose been living on the "Dark Side" for ten years. The other members I managed to scramble together are: old Filius Flitwick, retired now to a villa in France, presumed dead by many and only here to play a minor part; Neville Longbottom, a pleasant surprise to have him back on the team but sadly he seems to have not grown out of his old foolish teenage traits and Colin Creevery who must have joined the Order after I left and is giving me quite bewildered looks. I take another long look at my warriors, a man's world this sure is yet I don't think even collectively these men are fit for the job.

"Now to begin with…" I say with as much authority as I can muster.

"We are going to learn how to transfigure a sewing needle into a thimble," Harry teases.

I give him a harsh look: "Now come on Harry, don't make me take points off my own house." A light chuckle fills the air, as the many Gryffindor's in the room reminisce slightly on those days. The only Slytherin in the room gives me an acidic look that speaks of: Get on with it, we can't stay any longer than an hour.

"Now Filius, I trust you sent an owl to the Spanish Minister this morning warning him, anonymously, about the threat revealed to me by the nice little shopkeeper." I chirp, starting the agenda with a small matter that I felt earlier was my duty to act upon. Flitwick nods courteously, his lips tightly pursed together. I can tell the little man has only come to uphold his loyalties to Dumbledore, he doesn't intend on getting caught up in the crossfire.

"Thank you," I respond, then turn to Snape with a look of unknowing, willing him to approve of my next point. His lips form a snarl but he nods slightly.

"Okay, well," I say and then stop, trying to not stammer, "Let's not waste anymore valuable time with chatter. We all know why we are here and I'm sure we're all delighted that Harry is too."

Harry tuts a little and shuffles his feet, looking unpleasantly around the room at his old friends. A look of detest still on his face he clears his throat: "What Hermione is trying to say is that she has a scheme to destroy Voldemort."

The room physically shakes with nerves at the mention of the name. I give Harry a cursing look then continue, "Thank you for that Harry. It's quite simple really, we need a volunteer to donate a strand of DNA, a lock of hair perhaps, to enable Harry to take a Polyjuice potion. This means he will transform into that person and gives him a safer passage into Azkaban. Once there the Death Eaters will arrest him thinking they've caught a foolhardy Order member but not realise its Harry and…"

I stop, taking a deep breath. I realise that this idea is only making sense to myself, and the few that have already heard about it. Colin Creevery looks like he used to in his first year, holding up a Quidditch banner and cheering his housemates on but not actually understanding the rules of the game.

A plump hand is raised, I look at Neville: "I will volunteer," he says. I smile, ever noble and Gryffindor he is. A responsive murmur is heard from a few others, except Harry who still appears to be scowling.

"Right, well I'm glad you simply trust me on this one. It's not water tight and the next stage of planning is to decide what is the best thing to do once Harry is actually in Azkaban," I reveal, and then open my hands in the form of an offering, "Any suggestions?"

Flabbergasted the room gawp at me. Any suggestions? They must be thinking: I You are the Death Eater, and the brain box, you give us the suggestions. /I I wait patiently for thirty seconds, hoping a light bulb may appear magically above one of their heads. Vacant expressions and occasional half-hearted smiles is all I am receiving.

"Honestly, the only form of resistance towards the greatest power of evil this country has faced is half a dozen men totally reliant upon one woman." Patronising is something men do to women but I stand over them reversing the roles.

"I am sure you will think up something Hermione, you always used to, let us know when you do," Harry replies dismissively, then rises up from his chair and sluggishly heads towards the door. Disgusted I open my mouth to call him back but as I do Colin anxiously follows. The risen atmosphere in the room must have been too much for him. Neville follows suit and then Flitwick.

"Stupid lot, aren't they? And they used to call me immature!" Fred jesters. I smile encouragingly at him. "Come on Missy, you have a potion to begin and I'm sure an extra pair of hands won't go amiss."

"Honestly Granger, you're not going to leave the potion in the incapable hands of a Weasley are you?" Snape remarks.

I turn sharply, having forgotten his presence. He has just surveyed previous events with great detail and I am now prepared for the sarcastic comments that will follow.

"Prejudice will get you nowhere, Severus." I remark, clearly he didn't like being put on the same par as the other male members of the Order when I described them as incompetent.

"Pass me the fluxweed please, Fred," I say through the thick mist covering us. Spluttering and splattering he hands it over, I smile slightly, he's not a natural potion brewer.

"I remember quite a few nifty formulas you cooked up back in the day of Weasley's Wizard Wheezers," I joke, nudging and tickling him whilst he reaches into the cauldron. He stops and looks over to me. I stick out my tongue and splash some water over his face.

"Arrrrgh! What you doing?" He jumps up and down like a kangaroo, desperately trying to get the harmless substance out of his eyes.

"Calm down you idiot. Honestly, Fred, you really think I'd be stupid enough to splash a half-baked potion into your face?" He looks over and grins widely. Once again I stick out my tongue.

"No good in scaring off your only helper," he reminds me and I immediately grow angry at the rest of them useless, pathetic, wimpy and squirmy men! Fred really is the only one with half a backbone, and I include Snape in this judgement, he's the worst. He's only supporting this to meet his own ends, it doesn't take much for him to betray us, and then we will all be dead.

"It makes me angry Fred, that they behave like they've given up so much to be here and they're sacrificing so much. They act like they're only doing this out of duty to someone who is already dead and a prophecy that may never be fulfilled. They expect me to do most of the work and behave like they're the only ones who have lost something." I stop there, remembering that my family are not dead like Fred's. I need to be grateful for what I have.

"You must really miss them," is my reply. Fred sits down on one of the stools, and looks at me with understanding. "I did, but I've come to terms with my loss. You are living it."

"It's not like they're not safe though." I dismiss him; something inside me is reluctant to opening up. I look down to my feet and bite my lip.

"You fear that if you get caught then You-Know-Who will find them," Fred explains, so perfectly true he is. Such a fool am I to risk the three people I love the most.

"It isn't just that," I confess, an event moving forward into my mind, "When I got your letter it awakened something inside me, the will to fight. I began packing and forcing myself not to back down from the task I'd assigned myself. My husband has always wanted to shelter me, and it was him truthfully who forced me to leave the Order. He told me that if I leave the family for the wizarding world then I've left them for good. He meant it too, when he says these things he means it."

I look up, tears forming in my eyes: "Oh Fred! I made my decision and left anyway. I believed a greater good was at stake. So if I back down now I have nothing to go back to. My marriage is over and my children don't know the first thing about magic, they'd be best with their father."

Fred came over slowly, put his strong arm around my shoulder and hugged me tightly. I clutch onto him fast, sniffling a little into his lap. Feeling more and more vulnerable I left my head up and look with great round brown eyes.

"Don't worry 'Mione. You haven't lost them. I wouldn't be too sure that your children are simply Muggles. After all you're about the most powerful Muggleborn witch born in decades. He will be more proud of you when you come home to him, and relived also, that he'll forget that heavy condemnation."

"No Fred, he won't. My husband has always been a pacifist. He's a strong supporter of diplomacy in British politics and is very outspoken about it. He doesn't understand the magical world or the idea that peaceful methods are futile. I try to compare the Death Eaters to terrorist groups but he doesn't seem to comprehend. The fact I have become one, even if it's a disguise, is unforgivable. I know my husband, his principles are more important than his marriage."