Hermione hadn't thought much about what she'd be willing to give up when her life was at stake. Having grown up with Muggles, she didn't even know anything about the Wizarding world until she, very confused, received her letter from Hogwarts on her eleventh birthday. And even then, she was just a child. An only child with no real connection to anyone else besides a couple school friends, but she spent most of her time alone.

Her parents had always made sure she didn't think that her lack of best friends meant she was unlikeable, and she knew she was probably smarter than most of them anyway. So when she got her letter, something that made her special, she was ecstatic to find somewhere she fit in. Unlike Harry, though, she visited her parents on holidays and happily went back to stay with them during the summers between terms. She'd confided in them, loved them, and on multiple occasions, thought of inviting Harry to come stay with her during Christmas instead of him going home with Ron, but she'd never got around to it. But she'd talked about him nonstop that first summer, how great of a friend he was, everything that had happened, and how she was proud of herself for making two best friends.

Her parents would love him.

But the thought would have to be enough; they'd never get to meet him.

It was that realization that cascaded another tear down her cheek as she pointed her wand at her unsuspecting parents, trying to create a better last memory of them than the current one. Of course she didn't want to do this, and Harry had promised her she didn't have to countless times when she told him her plan before they were sent home for the summer.

"I have to, Harry. Voldemort will come after them. He'll torture them. He'll get into their minds. If they have no memory of me, he can't hurt them."

Harry reached out to touch her, but recoiled, fearing that she'd only push him away if he did. He looked to Ron, who was silent as well. He knew there was no point in arguing with her. Ron's family was going to be a large part of the fight, so he didn't have any difficult decisions to make, and the Dursleys knew better than to stay anywhere near Harry while all this was going on. Harry had promised to find them when it was over and make sure they could safely return to Privet Drive. But Hermione had a family she loved, a family who was suddenly about to be in immediate danger if she didn't do something.

"I can protect them. The Order-"

"You can't. No one can."

"You're sacrificing your parents for me, Hermione. There's no way I can ask you to do that. Your family…"

"You're not asking me to do anything, Harry. You're my family now. You and Ron. You always have been. And I've made peace with that. If, sometime in the future, I want to reacquaint myself with them, I can. But right now, you're more important."

Harry took a deep breath. "Don't say that. You might not be able to undo this, Hermione."

"I know."

Her eyes glanced around the living room, taking in the layout of the house, the memories of where she grew up, the pictures on the mantle, and said a silent goodbye.

"Mutatio Memoriae."

It was easy for her to grab the beaded bag that held everything she thought they might need. With the Undetectable Extension Charm she'd placed on it, there would be more than enough room for books, supplies, clothes, and potions. It felt strange, holding everything she owned in a bag that could almost fit in her pocket, but she figured traveling light would be the best option. Even though Harry and Ron hadn't necessarily appointed her as the brains of this journey, she knew she had to be. She always had been. The boys wouldn't think this far ahead. Hermione tried to make as little noise as possible as she slipped out the front door and out onto the street. With another shuddering breath, she headed a little ways down the street, out of the view of the street lamps, and Disapparated.

Maybe it was because she was so anxious and nervous about not only their plan but seeing Harry again, but she was apparently the first member of the Order to arrive. It had been over a month since they'd seen each other while they were preparing and trying to figure out Voldemort's plan, but every moment away from Harry made Hermione worry more about him. She waited outside for a couple minutes, but felt like there were eyes on her out there, and decided instead to knock softly on the front door, holding her bag tightly to her chest.

"Hermione?" Harry's face was like the sun after a week of rain, and he barely had the door open before she tackled him in a hug. It only took a split second before he reciprocated. "What are you doing here? How did you find me?"

She held on for a few more seconds before pulling away to kiss his cheek. "The, uh… the rest of the Order is coming, I just… got here first, I guess. I didn't want to stand outside."

"Oh, of course, yeah. I wouldn't want you to wait out there, either. There's no telling what's safe anymore." He pushed the door closed behind her, locking it back swiftly. "What do you mean, the rest of the Order is coming? Why?" When Hermione didn't answer, he frowned. "Hermione…"

"So… this is where you lived, huh?" she asked, her eyes scanning the walls and ceiling in an effort to evade the question. She paused at the cupboard. "Is that…?"

"Yeah," Harry sighed before swinging the door open.

"I can't believe you used to fit in here. This is… barbaric."

He hadn't told her or Ron the severity of his time with the Dursleys, but they had known his bedroom for a while had been under the stairs. It was a strange sight, seeing Hermione poking her head into it. Seeing Hermione here at his house at all, actually. For the past six years, Hogwarts and Privet Drive were two different worlds, and the collision was a little jarring.

"Yeah, well, I was a lot smaller when I was eleven."

"I remember." Hermione smiled fondly.

Harry paused. "Did you…?"

Hermione's face fell as she nodded. "They're safe. They'll be okay."

"But will you?"

"Eventually, I think I will. Right now…? No."

"Would you like some tea? Do you know how long until everyone else gets here?"

She glanced at her watch. "Not sure, but… I'd love some, thanks." Harry nodded, gingerly taking her hand and leading her to the kitchen. The Dursleys had taken all the furniture with them when they left, so she just leaned against the counter as Harry looked through the cabinets for anything he could use. "You know, I thought about inviting you to my house nearly every Christmas."

"Why didn't you? I would have loved that." He opened and closed a few before sighing. "Everything's gone. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Hermione shrugged, just leaning on her elbows. "I guess I was… nervous? I mean, they didn't know who you were except my friend, but I guess compared to Hogwarts, the Muggle world always seemed so… boring. Especially at first, you know. And look at the Burrow. The first time I was there, I was amazed at a magical home. I thought mine was terrible." She grinned. "I still love it, though. I guess I'll be spending a lot of time there from now on."

"We all will," Harry corrected, resting his back against the counter next to her. "I can't come back here, either, remember?"

"Do you think they'll be okay? The Dursleys? Or do you care?"

"I think they'll be all right." He suddenly laughed at a thought he had. "They'll probably take one look into Petunia's mind and be so terrified, they'll leave the rest of them alone."

Hermione giggled too. "My parents would love you. They'd probably talk to you for hours. I think they got tired of me telling them all about the magic I learned, and then my complaints that I couldn't show them anything." She frowned again. "I never got to show them anything…"

"Hermione…"

Suddenly, they were interrupted by another knock at the door. Harry moved Hermione behind him just in case, but they were both relieved to see Moody.

"There you are, Granger. I was worried you got lost," he exclaimed as he pushed past Harry, who looked more concerned the more people came in, but hugged them all in turn, Ron and Hagrid the hardest. "Or killed." She downcast her eyes.

"Yer lookin' fit, Harry!"

"Yeah, he's absolutely gorgeous. Now let's get him undercover before someone murders him."

And the whirlwind had begun. Their quiet moment alone was gone as the Order packed themselves into the living room.

"Kingsley, I thought you were looking after the Prime Minister," Harry said.

"You are more important," Kingsley replied, and Harry couldn't contain his smile. What the Dursleys would give to hear something like that.

Moody took over again, explaining the plan, and before long, they were sitting outside with their respective escorts, waiting for the signal. Harry still thought this felt incredibly wrong, and he would have never agreed to it if it hadn't already been halfway decided for him. But leave it to Hermione to be in touch with them before she showed up, always one step ahead. He looked back towards the rest of the group, bewildered as he saw himself staring back over and over. It was uncanny; he just hoped it would work.

The adrenaline of flying combined with dodging the spells that were whizzing past his head only a few minutes ago dropped with the wall of water Hagrid drove him through at the Burrow, but immediately, when he realized they were the first ones there, the nerves took over. "Is no one else back?"

"They were on us from the start, Molly," Hagrid sighed. "We didn't stand a chance."

"Well, thank goodness the two of you are all right. Let's… get you inside, dried off." Molly ushered the two of them in, but Ginny rushed to hug him tightly.

"Harry, I was so worried about you," she whispered, but pulled away. "Ron and Tonks should have already been back. Dad and Fred as well."

"I'm sure they're right behind us."

"Here!" Lupin's voice rang out after a crack rang out in the air near them. The first thing Harry noticed was blood running down the side of what looked like his own face, but once the shock wore off and George began to turn back into himself, he immediately helped Lupin carry him into the house and settle him on the couch before a wand was pointed at him and he was shoved violently into the fireplace.

"What are you doing?!" Ginny interjected, but Lupin held steady.

"What creature sat in the corner the first time Harry Potter visited my office in Hogwarts?"

"Are you mad?"

"WHAT CREATURE?" Lupin yelled, and for not the first time in the last few months, Harry was genuinely scared for his life. He knew Lupin wouldn't think twice about killing him if he didn't answer correctly. Not anymore. He racked his brain for the memory, squeezing his eyes shut against the distraction of the weapon in his face.

He had no idea how he remembered; maybe it was because he spent so much time in there and it hadn't changed. Maybe it had been the amazement of seeing one for the first time, and he'd always loved the creatures Lupin displayed. "A grindylow!"

Lupin's tense form relaxed and he lowered his wand. Harry let out a sigh of relief and ran a hand through his hair.

"We've been betrayed," Lupin explained. "Voldemort knew you were being moved tonight. I had to make sure you weren't an imposter."

He couldn't blame him. Not at all.

Another crack sounded outside, and Lupin rushed out into the yard with Harry following closely behind. It was Kingsley, Hermione in tow.

"Wait!" Lupin ordered before they could get any closer.

"The last two words Albus Dumbledore spoke to the pair of us," Kingsley quizzed.

"Harry is the best hope we have. Trust him."

When wands were lowered, Hermione's arms were around him.

"What gave you away?" Kingsley asked, tucking his wand back into his robes.

Harry pulled away just enough to answer. "Hedwig, I think. She was trying to protect me."

"Hedwig?" Hermione suddenly asked with teary eyes. "Harry, I'm so sorry…"

Then it was Bill and Fleur, and Ron and Tonks. Hermione rushed to Ron as quickly as she'd run to Harry, hugging him tightly. It was slightly awkward at first, but then Ron hugged her back. They were friends after all, if nothing else.

"Brilliant, he was," Tonks explained as she pulled Lupin in. "I wouldn't be standing here without him."

"Really?"

Ron laughed. "Always the tone of surprise."

As soon as Harry sprinted towards both of them to wrap his arms around them, there was another crack as Fred and Arthur appeared.

"We the last back?" After a silence, their faces fell. "Where's George?" When no one answered, Fred bolted inside, followed by the rest of them.

Harry heard them talk, something about ear humor, but his brain wasn't processing it. Moody was dead. Mundungus left. George had gotten his ear blown off. He couldn't do it. He couldn't put his friends in danger like that anymore. He was the one Voldemort was after.

So that night, he grabbed the bag he never bothered unpacking while Ron was still sound asleep in the bed next to him and headed out into the field. He paused - the dim light of dawn just barely illuminated anything enough for him to see where he was going, and he quickly realized that, in fact, he had absolutely no idea where he was going or where he was going to stay, but did that matter?

"Going somewhere?"

Harry paused, rolled his eyes, and turned to see Ron following him out. This is exactly what he'd been trying to avoid.

"Nobody else is going to die. Not for me."

"For you?" Ron scoffed. "You think Moody died for you? You think George took that curse for you? You may be the Chosen One, mate, but this is a whole lot bigger than that. It's always been bigger than that."

Harry sighed. He knew Ron was right, as much as he was unwilling to admit it. And after the failures he and Hermione had encountered in the library and with their research, and with Ron telling him how useless he'd felt in this fight lately, Harry knew he shouldn't, no… couldn't truly do this alone. They'd have the Order behind them - they'd find some way to communicate with them if they needed to for information. It seemed almost too easy. Dangerous, but easy. "Come with me."

"What, and leave Hermione? Are you mad? We wouldn't last two days without her. Besides, you've still got the Trace on you. And we've still got the wedding."

"Look, I don't care about the wedding, Ron. I'm sorry. No matter whose it is. I have to find the rest of those horcruxes. They're our only chance to beat him and the longer we stay here, the stronger he gets."

"Tonight's not the night, mate," Ron pleaded. "We'd only be doing him a favor. He plays with your emotions, right? Gets in your head. If you go out there now, he knows you're vulnerable. You're a sitting duck. And you'd be an idiot to leave the two of us behind."

The words from his dream that night echoed in his head: If we take her, he will follow. Harry only thought for another second before reluctantly dropping his backpack to the ground, which Ron quickly picked up as he headed back towards the house.

"Do you think he knows?" Ron asked. "I mean, they're bits of his soul, these horcruxes. Bits of him. Dumbledore destroyed the ring, you destroyed Tom Riddle's diary… he must have felt something."

"I don't know," Harry answered honestly. "I get what you're saying. I think he knows we're doing something, but I don't know how it works - if they're separate entities or if they're still attached to him. If you use a horcrux to come back to life, I don't know if it's really you. You still have to have a body, so… as far as feeling anything, I don't know. That's a good question."