Come Out of Your Hiding Place

A/N: Thanks to my newest reviewer, Jayy, and annavignola for putting me into her C2. Even if you don't review coughREVIEWcough, I hope you enjoy this next installment. Suggestions are welcome. All know characters belong to the omnipotent J. K. Rowling.

It was the same oak door that Hermione always remembered coming to after finishing school. She now stood in front of her suburban home but not to come home. Opening the door was the last thing Hermione wanted to do now. Hermione looked to the driveway and saw the car parked outside the garage. Why did they have to be home?

"Aren't you going to knock?" Voldemort said, more demanding than suggesting.

Hermione did not speak. She dared not put her hand on the brass knocker.

"Knock on the door, Ms. Granger," Snape finally demanded after a pregnant pause.

The unsympathetic nature of the situation was killing her. "I can't! Don't you understand?"

"You don't exactly have that option, do you now?" Snape said, rearing his head in a condescending manner.

Snape's eyes made her stomach turn again, much the way Voldemort's smile did. Hermione concluded that all Death Eaters must have some unique look, void of pity or human emotion, that made her sick.

"Oh, wonderful," Voldemort said. He smiled again. "You're very fortunate today."

Hermione stepped back slightly towards the door. She knew he would not smile unless something happened that was to his advantage. He kept advancing on her until her back was to the door. He extended his hand out towards her head. Instead trying to grab hold of her, he reached for the brass knocker. The knocked clanged three times against the metal counterpart; Hermione's heart pounded with each knock.

His head level with hers, Voldemort breathed, "Potter and Weasley decided to visit your mother, too."

Three solid knocks could be heard over the talking, each one distinct and reverberating off the walls. Mrs. Granger was the first one to say anything thing over the immediate silence.

"Now who's knocking?" she said, her voice exasperated.

Mrs. Granger only took one step when Harry clutched to the scar on his forehead. The searing pain pulsated through his body.

Mrs. Granger turned to him. "Do you need some medicine for that headache of yours?"

"No! Just—don't answer—the door!" Harry said. He was trying to overcome the pain without being too loud. "Ron, Tonks, we have to get of here!"

"But what if Hermione is with them?" Ron insisted.

"Ron, we can't take that risk!" Tonks snapped.

"But if she's here, I don't want to leave!"

"Don't you understand that if you get yourself killed, you won't be able to do anything more to help her!"

Ron turned to Harry as his last hope of support. "Harry?"

Harry had often made the choice between his own life and the possibility of saving another's. He looked from Tonks, to Ron, to Mrs. Granger and then to his own reflection in the hall mirror and knew that he was responsible for all those lives. The decision was once again left to him.

"Ron, Tonks, if both of you hide, he might not know you're here. I can handle it myself, but if I need your help, then come out of your hiding place."

"Like an ambush?" asked Ron.

"Yes."

"Get upstairs, quickly," Mrs. Granger said. Her eyes were in panic but her voice was full of bitter haste.

Tonks and Ron stared at her. Harry was surprised at what could be taken as either idiocy or complete bravery.

"Mrs. Granger?"

"Do as I say, all of you," --she pointed upstairs-- "Go into the second room on the left, so you can't be seen. I'll handle it."

"But--"

"GO!"

Harry nearly tripped on his way up the stairs; the pain was still so immense. The door to the room was quietly shut as the door at the front was opened.

Three faces greeted Mrs. Granger at the door, her daughter, a tall, lanky, greasy haired bloke and demon with red eyes and a pale face. Mrs. Granger looked Hermione in the eyes; she knew the kind of trouble her daughter was in, but Mrs. Granger could not bring herself to look Voldemort straight in the face.

"Sarah."

He said her name in an inhuman hiss. Mrs. Granger continued to look away from his deformed face and steel cold eyes. The fear was too overwhelming.

"Mum, please…Back away and let us in…" Hermione pleaded with her eyes.

Stepping forward, Voldemort urged her on. "Come now, Sarah. Show some hospitality."

She moved back as her daughter asked of her, however begrudgingly.

The house looked the same as when Hermione left for the Burrow that summer. Her mother always liked to keep the house dusted, the pictures all in the same order, loose papers put into boxes. Everything about her mother was order; Mrs. Granger never liked change in her house. Surveying the area, Hermione saw no sight of Ron or Harry. Hermione's eyes searched rapidly around the house. Her breath became rapid and shallow at the thought of Harry and Ron not being there to help her. Hope seemed lost until she saw a pair of green eyes peering out from the second door on the left. Time stopped temporarily as their eyes met in a silent conversation. Hermione knew not to say or do anything; she was just relieved to know that Harry and Ron were there behind that door.

Voldemort started to speak to Mrs. Granger like a child. It was diplomatic yet stern and not to be taken lightly.

"Now, Sarah, all I want to do is take back what's mine and leave you with your Mudblood of a daughter. I wouldn't try anything else."

Mrs. Granger began to scream at him in an uncontrollable rage. "My mother was a fool to trust you! She never should have--"

Suddenly, Hermione saw her mother writhing on the ground. Harry, Ron and Tonks could hear the screams from upstairs.

"NO!" Hermione screamed, grabbing at his arm.

He flung Hermione from his arm to the wall. Hermione's mother lay incapacitated on the ground after the curse was lifted. When Hermione opened her eyes, Voldemort's wand was six centimeters from her face.

End A/N: Sorry, guys, no coffee or cookies today, but I'll give you a review instead if you want one! Press the shiny blue button that says "Go" and have a good day.