The next couple weeks had a similar structure: breakfast, training, lunch, training, research, dinner, cuddling (which usually became snogging), then sleep. Harry hadn't given up on trying to win duels against Hermione, and even she had to admit he was improving and she had to be quicker on her feet to dodge him. They'd mastered nonverbal Protego and Reducto, which had been a lot of fun, and Hermione had used Incarcerous on Harry so many times she'd lost count. He'd kept true to his word about not subjecting her to it, however, though she knew she'd have to eventually, because it might be a real occurrence and she didn't want to lose herself if she ever were in that position. They'd switched locations again, but hadn't made any progress on the Snitch, which was frustrating, too.

"Hermione, I've been thinking," Harry started one night, making sure Hermione was awake. They'd gone to bed a little early from the mental and physical exhaustion of the past few days finally catching up with them.

"Hmm," she just hummed in response. Under the blankets with Harry was almost too warm, but with as far north they'd gone, the snow was coming relentlessly now, and they could only do so much to keep it out of the tent, at least with their skill level. She'd much prefer this over freezing.

"I want to go to Godric's Hollow." Hermione tensed in his arms. "I just… it's where I was born, it's where my parents died…"

She sat up a little, leaning on her elbow. "That's exactly where he'll expect you to go, because it means something to you."

"Yeah, but it means something to him, too, Hermione. He almost died there. Don't you think that would be exactly the type of place he'd be likely to hide a horcrux?"

"It's… it's dangerous, Harry," she sighed. "But I have to admit, recently I've been thinking we'll have to go eventually."

"Why's that?"

"I think it's possible the sword might be hidden there. If Dumbledore wanted you to find it but didn't want the Ministry getting their hands on it, where better to hide it than the birthplace of the founder of Gryffindor?"

Harry stayed silent for so long that Hermione almost fell asleep. "I really appreciate it, Hermione. You agreeing to stay with me and… go along with all these crazy ideas."

"Of course. I figured you'd want to go. I planned on it while we were traveling. If not during the hunt, after. I know you've never gotten to see it, so I figured the closure might be nice, at least. But… I want to wait a bit. We need to be prepared for an attack, and I don't think we're ready."

Harry opened his mouth to protest, but he realized it was just his impatience. Hermione was right - if they could still get hits in on each other, honestly, they weren't ready for a fight with Death Eaters.

"I want you to use Incarcerous on me tomorrow, Harry," she whispered.

"Are you sure, Hermione? You don't have to. I don't want to-"

"If we run into Snatchers and they're planning on delivering us to You Know Who or the Ministry, they're not going to hold back. It'll probably be their first resort. And I trust you. I've been thinking about it a lot lately, and… making a plan to go to Godric's Hollow just gives me a reason to get over myself."

"Can… can I ask why it's so hard? You don't have to answer, of course, but…"

Hermione curled up tighter into Harry's side. "I just feel like… like I'm nothing without my magic."

"Hermione-"

"I know it's not true. At least most of the time, but I came on this journey with you to help you, and if I can't do spells or even move, you could get hurt. They could kill you, Harry, and I wouldn't be able to do anything about it. I'd just have to sit there and watch while they tortured you."

"And what if the roles were reversed? You think that me being tied up while they torture you isn't going to be as hard for me?" Hermione was silent. "Look, we've been lucky that we haven't run into anything yet. We haven't had to fight, just escape. Which has given us a lot of time to prepare, and you're so strong, Hermione. You're faster than me. You're smarter than me. I'm just the unlucky one who got thrown into all of this. But I'm amazed at you every single day. I'm amazed at your dedication and your willingness to learn and teach me. You've been teaching me so much about how to heal so that I can help you, too. But we have to accept that there's only so much we can do. We're not as powerful as they are. We're not as strong. We're not as fast. We're kids. We've got more to lose, but that's about it. That's all we have going for us."

"You're right, Harry," she replied, sniffling back tears. "I know you're right, but that doesn't make it any easier for me to accept. I just can't bear to lose you."

"You haven't lost me yet," Harry reminded her. "I might have died in the Devil's Snare if you hadn't known what to do, then where would we be?"

"I'd probably be snogging Ron right now instead of you," she managed to tease.

"Well, we couldn't have that, could we?" Harry laughed, leaning down to kiss her. "We'll start training after breakfast tomorrow, okay? Weather permitting, of course."

Hermione nodded. "Can you stay with me tonight?"

"Of course."

"Are you ready?"

"Yes."

"You're sure?"

"Just do it, Harry."

They weren't dueling, though Hermione had protested. Harry figured she'd be more comfortable with this outside of the heat of battle, and instead, he convinced her to just stand outside, close to each other, and he would cast the spell. He could tell she was still nervous, but she did trust he wouldn't do anything to hurt her.

"Incarcerous." Ropes wound their way around Hermione's wrists, ankles, and mouth, causing her to fall to the ground, and she took deep breaths to calm herself. Harry was next to her in an instant, a hand on her shoulder. "Are you okay?" She nodded gently, though there was clearly some reservation. But she'd managed to hang onto her wand. "Okay, try moving your hand around so the tip of your wand is touching the rope."

It was hard to watch her struggle, to get frustrated under his own hand, but she had to do this herself, to show herself she was capable. After a few minutes, she finally managed to get her wand sort of pointed back at herself. Her eyes closed in concentration, and he stayed quiet, silently cheering her on. Come on, Hermione.

The rope over her mouth loosened enough for her to slide it down with her tongue. "Relashio!" Hermione uttered, laughing in triumph as the ropes around her wrists and ankles slithered back onto the ground. "I did it!"

"You did it!" Harry cheered, pulling her up off the ground and spinning her around in the air. "I told you! I knew you could do it!"

"I just have to… get my time faster, that's all. It's definitely not as scary when you're right next to me," she panted once Harry set her back down. "And thank you for letting me work it out myself."

"Of course. I knew you'd want to."

Her eyes caught on the barely-visible silver chain around his neck before he uttered the word again. "Incarcerous." But she didn't fall this time. He was still holding her up with a hand on her back, and being unable to move, pressed against him, made her breath catch. Her mouth hadn't been covered, and she wondered if it was on purpose, if he could control it.

"Harry…"

"Can you get out of it now?"

A part of her didn't want to. This feeling of helplessness that flickered through her when she wasn't scared and just looking into Harry's eyes, wasn't terrible. In fact, the quick submission that had been distressing at first, now was almost relaxing. But this was practice; she couldn't give in, no matter who it was. Harry couldn't be her weakness. They'd have plenty of time for other uses later.

She took a deep breath and moved her wand around, trying to memorize the motions to make it as subtle as possible. It wouldn't hurt to still try nonverbally, and she found that the ropes loosened the tiniest amount. It wasn't good, but it was progress. "R-Relashio," she whispered, sighing with relief when they dropped to the ground.

"Not so bad, is it?"

"N-No…"

"Okay, good. Want to take a break?"

She nodded quickly. Once she pulled away, the cold of the air between them was shocking, and she wrapped her arms around herself tightly.

"We can go in and warm up. I'll make you some hot chocolate." He took her hand and pulled her inside, grabbing a blanket from the bed. The hot chocolate they had was the stuff in packets that Hermione had grown up with, and not nearly as good as anything they had at Hogwarts, but it was easily portable and kept for a long time. It had been a while since they had it since Ron didn't really like it, but Harry didn't mind.

She closed her eyes, resting her head against the back of the loveseat. They realized three days ago that the separate chairs just weren't working for the cold, and not being able to cuddle up next to each other on a couch seemed ridiculous, so she'd easily transfigured the two armchairs together.

A few minutes later, Harry was next to her with a mug, lifting the blanket so he could join her. "I really am proud of you, you know."

Hermione opened her eyes, smiling softly. "I know. I'm proud of myself, too."

"You're not helpless at all. I wouldn't last a day out here on my own."

"Maybe one day, but that's it," she smirked, taking a sip. "We need to check our potion supplies. I know we've used a few, but there are a couple I want to try to make and I'm not sure we have the right ingredients, which means we'll have to make a trip somewhere to an apothecary. I want to get more healing ingredients, too."

"But the only apothecaries are in Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade. That means we'll-"

"Probably run into Snatchers. I know. Believe me, I'm not excited about it, either. We'll just use Polyjuice Potion."

"But it can't be the people we've already used. Do you have any other hairs?"

Hermione let out a shaky breath, running a hand through her hair. "I have some from my parents I took from their hairbrushes before I left. We'll need fake names, obviously, and… I gave my real parents fake names when I altered their memory. But they should be far away by now. I think as long as we make a very quick stop in and out, we'll be all right. They're Muggles, so no one should recognize them."

Harry squeezed her tighter. "We'll plan. We'll wait as long as we need to be as safe as possible, right?"

"And then you'll turn into my father and give me a weird complex."

"Would you rather me turn into your mum?"

"Maybe," she giggled. "That would be something, wouldn't it?"

"Now I really wish I'd gotten to meet them. Properly, I mean." He'd seen them with her in Diagon Alley one year, but everything was so chaotic when the kids were shopping that he didn't really get a chance to talk to them.

"You will," Hermione promised. "After the war. I'll find them and restore their memories. Then I'll introduce you."

"Wait... you said you altered them. You mean, you can change them back?"

Hermione nodded. "For a highly-skilled wizard, it is reversible, but I don't know if I'd be able to do it. If everything went as planned, right now they're in Australia, having no knowledge they even have a daughter."

Harry swallowed thickly. No memory of her at all? He hadn't realized the implications of what she'd told him she planned to do, and she hadn't wanted to talk about it, so he hadn't pushed. It was clear, though, that Hermione was much braver than he could have ever been. At least in that sense. "I've thought about going to Australia."

"You'd come with me?"

"Hermione, you're traipsing around the country with me trying to fight a war. The least I could do would be to accompany you on a trip to Australia."

"That's… fair," she laughed. "But I don't want to make too many future plans right now, Harry. Let's just prepare for the apothecary first."

They took it easy the rest of the day. The snow was falling heavily, accumulating quickly, though the trees provided some relief.

"Harry, I think I found something," she announced from her spot on the couch, and he paused his own reading to move next to her. She shifted her legs so he could sit down. "At first I thought it was an eye, but now I don't think it is," she explained, pointing out the symbol in the book. "It's not a rune. And it's not in Spellman's Syllabary. Someone's inked it in."

Harry frowned. "Luna's dad was wearing that at Bill and Fleur's wedding. On a necklace."

"Why would someone draw it in a children's book?"

"I don't know. But it's in Beedle the Bard, so maybe Ron-"

Hermione pressed her lips together. They hadn't talked to Arthur since Hermione's birthday, and they didn't even know if he knew Ron wasn't traveling with them anymore. They weren't going to ask if he was okay - in case he didn't know, they didn't want to worry him.

Harry didn't even know what to say in response. They hadn't talked about him that much, but every time his name came up, there was a lingering heaviness still in the tent. They'd been together in their adventures for the past six years, and as nice as it was being alone, neither of them could deny that it still seemed strange at times, not having seen him in almost a month. They didn't even know what day it was, what month it even was. All they knew was no matter where they ended up, it was cold. They stopped taking watch just to avoid going outside as much as possible, and they'd been dueling inside the tent with shield spells over all the valuables. It was a lot more difficult with much less room, but they made it fun creatively dodging and tripping over each other. The laughter had come back to the tent nearly every night as they really got to know each other better than they ever had at Hogwarts just because they had all the time in the world to talk. And the more they talked, the more comfortable they became with each other.

"I'll keep an eye out for it when I'm reading, too. To see if it's anywhere else," Harry answered for her. "It might be something, Hermione. Good find." He grinned, leaning in to kiss her softly. She tasted like chocolate.

"You know what I'd love to do?" she asked once he pulled back, setting the book next to her.

"What's that?"

"Watch a movie. I mean, I know it's usually boring, but I always had this… dinner and a movie dream date, you know?"

Harry laughed a little. "Yeah, I haven't even thought about how long it's been since we've done anything like that. I'd love to take you on a date, Hermione. A proper Muggle date, too. No magic." Hermione raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Okay, maybe a little bit."

"I think I'm going to go make some coffee," she said, sliding the blanket off her lap and standing up to stretch. "Do you want any?"

"Please." As Hermione was working, he had an idea. "Hey, if you want to be Muggles for a night, I've got something we can do."

"Yeah? What's that?"

"We'll turn the beds into sleeping bags and sleep on the floor and play Truth or Dare or something."

"Truth or Dare? I feel like I'm in first year again," Hermione laughed as she added milk and sugar to their coffee. She'd made Harry's so many times, she knew exactly how he liked it.

"You really played that?"

"Sometimes."

"You always picked truth, didn't you?" he smirked.

"Of course I did."

"And you will now, too, won't you?"

"Well, that all depends." Hermione brought over their mugs and handed Harry's to him.

"On what?"

"If you have the locket or not."

"What does that have to do with anything?" Harry laughed as Hermione sat back down next to him.

"I don't trust your judgement with that thing on. Your expectations of me are much higher than they need to be."

"You just don't like getting flustered."

Hermione opened her mouth in protest. "It's not that I don't like it. It's… it's just weird for me, Harry. No one's ever… hinted at any type of physical relationship beyond kissing, so it just… I don't know. I'm trying to get used to it. And the fact that you've been my friend for so long makes it a little strange to think about."

"You don't seem to worry when you're on my lap and snogging me."

"Okay, give me the locket, Harry," she laughed, reaching for it.

"What? I'm not allowed to flirt with you?"

Hermione took a deep breath, staring ahead at the fire and leaning back against the cushion. "No, you are. You are. I've had dreams about it and that's fine, but real life is… different."

Harry's eyes widened a little. "You… you've had dreams about me? Like… sex dreams?" he whispered.

Hermione rolled her eyes, but turned red. "Like you haven't."

"I-I mean, I-"

"When you wear the locket to sleep?"

"Mostly."

Hermione nearly choked on her coffee. "Mostly?"

"Well…"

"Okay, I'm done talking about this. Yes, I've had dreams. No, it's not the same when it's real. End of story."

"Right. Yeah. That's… probably a good idea. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring it up."

"I brought it up," Hermione answered. "So I'm sorry, too. We'll probably need to talk about it at some point, but… not tonight, okay?"

"Not tonight," he repeated, reaching over to take her hand. "We can still play a game or something."

"I still wish we could watch a movie. Can we at least make a blanket fort?"

Harry grinned. "That sounds amazing, actually. We can definitely do that."

After dinner, Harry pulled the blankets and pillows off the bed, setting them down on the floor while Hermione pushed the chairs close to the bunks. He let her take over the logistics only because he'd never made one of these before, and she seemed to know what she was doing. It didn't take long for the sheets to be tied to the space between the bunks and tucked into the sides of the chairs. It really seemed like a smaller version of the tent, but something about it was fun and romantic, especially with the small flame in a jar Hermione had made for light. She also transformed the blankets and pillows into sleeping bags, figuring they'd be a little more comfortable than just sleeping on the floor.

"Hermione, this is everything I always wanted in a fort," Harry grinned as he ducked under the sheet. He'd never gotten to make one at home, and the Dursleys certainly weren't going to help him. But this was so much better than his friends in primary school had described.

"I just hope it holds." She climbed in behind him and settled into one of the sleeping bags. "But thank you. It's a little harder with these chairs, but they're tall enough that we really need them. And I'd like to have some more coverage, but-"

"Hermione," he interrupted, "it's perfect. Very romantic."

"Hang on. I might have something…" She left the fort for a moment and came back in holding two bottles of butterbeer.

Harry's eyes widened. "Where'd you get those?" he asked, eagerly reaching for one.

"I packed them and… forgot, honestly. I found them a few days ago when I was looking for some of the other food." She sat carefully next to him to keep her drink upright. "Cheers." They clinked their bottlenecks together and took a sip, Hermione humming as the warmth quickly spread through her. The bottled stuff wasn't nearly as good as what came right from the tap, but for traveling, it was the best they could do.

"It's perfect. Thank you." They drank quietly for a moment, watching the jarred flame closely. "I don't want to jinx this, Hermione."

"What do you mean?"

"You said we'll most likely run into Snatchers, and I just… it scares me. I don't want them to take you away from me. We can't get separated."

"I know," Hermione replied, swirling the bottle around a little. "That's what I'm scared of, too. But we'll do whatever we can to make sure it doesn't happen. You said that."

"Doesn't mean I'm not worried," Harry said softly. "I just think it's important to be honest so you know where I'm at, too."

"I appreciate it. It's nice knowing you get worried."

"Get?" he laughed. "Hermione, I'm always worried. I've been worried about dying for six years - that hasn't changed. I feel like I've been a moment away from death since I was born."

"Well, I'll do everything in my power to protect you, Harry, you know that."

"I know. I trust you with my life, Hermione. With all sincerity."

Hermione blushed softly. "I trust you with mine, too."

He leaned over to kiss her, and she almost had to put her drink down from the amount of emotion that came with it. All kinds of things, swirling around together, and honestly, Hermione reciprocated them all. She'd never felt this strongly about anyone before, and the kissing definitely didn't help. Every time he kissed her, the stronger her feelings got, like they'd been under the surface for years and were getting to come out now that they'd crossed the threshold from friends to more. She wasn't about to put any kind of label on it, because she didn't really have one. They weren't just friends anymore, but he was far from her boyfriend, wasn't he? There were no benefits going on, so no, there was no label that worked for their current relationship, but considering they were only seeing each other and no one cared, they'd never felt the need to even talk about it.

He tasted like butterbeer, and maybe it was the heat of the moment or the ever so slight influence of alcohol that had her crawling over to Harry's sleeping bag next to him. It was cramped, but she made it work, shifting just enough so that he was holding himself up over her.

"Hermione," he whispered against her lips, but she just grinned, sliding her fingers into his hair and kissing him again. Harry felt like his brain was short-circuiting. Every single one of his senses were overtaken by Hermione. This was different than any other time they'd kissed before - here, over her, he couldn't help but instinctively wrap an arm around her and slide her completely underneath him, slotting his knees between her legs, which she effortlessly accommodated.

His hand on her back felt electric, and she could feel heat pooling between her legs. If she could trust him with her life, why shouldn't she be able to trust him with her body? She shuddered at the thought, and suddenly, this felt like one of her dreams.

At Hermione's movement, Harry pulled his lips away. "Are you all right?" he asked carefully. He knew she had just talked about not being completely comfortable with this, so he didn't want to push.

"Fine," Hermione replied breathlessly. "Just… this is a lot."

"Do you want me to get off you?"

She thought for a moment back to Harry practicing Incarcerous on her earlier that day. It was incredibly uncomfortable at first, that helpless feeling, doing something she wasn't good at or something that gave her a lot of anxiety. And when she let go and allowed her instincts to take over instead of the anxiety, she found peace and the ability to get herself out of trouble, no matter how slight. So this, the discomfort, was just because this was new. She knew that. She didn't want to change their relationship, but this already had. She would never be able to think about Harry the same way again after snogging him, lying underneath him, having the conversations she'd had with him, spending weeks alone with him. She'd been leaning into discomfort for months and it had gotten her this far, gotten her stronger, smarter, faster, and now, Harry's attraction to her and faith in her was shooting her self esteem through the roof.

"N-No, just…"

"Distance," Harry finished, and she nodded. The thought of their bodies pressing together, his weight on top of her, made her more nervous than she was willing to feel right now, and she was grateful he could tell and voice that for her.

Her hand hesitantly moved from his hair down his back, gripping his sweater to hold him close for the moment. It felt good, and he was so warm, but she could feel him holding himself back, and the longer they kissed, the more he struggled. And the more she struggled as well. After a couple minutes, she pulled back.

"Harry," came out more of a moan than she meant, and she quickly cleared her throat. "Need… need to breathe." The grip on his sweater loosened and she pressed their foreheads together.

Harry didn't respond, because he was worried that whatever he said might come out sounding disappointed, which he didn't want her to feel. He just nodded and rolled over next to her on the sleeping bag. But his eyes didn't leave her as she giggled softly. She looked flushed, but in the small flame of the fort and the haze of lust, it was the most beautiful he'd ever seen her.

"What?" Hermione grinned, noticing the look in Harry's eyes.

"I just… I never thought we'd be in this position, but… I can't help but feeling so lucky right now. Like if I'd left when I wanted to, it would have just been me and Ron and this would have never happened."

Hermione frowned. "When you wanted to?"

"A couple days before the wedding, I tried to sneak out," he admitted. "I didn't want anyone dying for me and I wanted to just… get started on the hunt. But Ron came after me and convinced me to stay." He sat up, finishing his bottle of butterbeer quickly. "And I'm glad he did. I would have probably been dead by now."

"Probably. I'm glad you didn't leave. I would have been devastated." Hermione leaned up on her elbows, taking a deep breath. "I feel lucky, too, you know. Snogging the Chosen One." She smirked before looking him up and down for a second. "You don't have to answer this, Harry, but I just… I'm curious if you and Cho ever…"

"No. No, um… we actually only went out that one time. That right there was actually the closest I've gotten to… anything, actually," he laughed nervously.

"Oh."

"You're disappointed?"

"What? No! Quite the opposite, actually. I'm… well, there's more pressure now, I suppose, isn't there? If we do…"

"No pressure at all," Harry promised. "Honestly. No pressure to do anything or… for anything to go a certain way if it does happen."

Hermione smiled, looking down at her feet. "Thank you, Harry. I appreciate that. I mean, I know that's how you feel, but… hearing it out loud is good, too."

"Of course. I, uh… I think I'm going to get ready for bed if that's all right."

"Yeah." Her eyes watched him closely as he stood and exited the fort, and once he was gone, she let out a deep sigh and laid back on the sleeping bag, unable to keep the grin from her face. The butterflies were back like at the Yule Ball when Krum made her feel like the only girl there. Harry was the perfect mix of being willing to take things further with her and staying a gentleman about it if she wasn't ready. Of course, she was sure he was frustrated, but he didn't show it. But she had to admit that she was giddy, which was strange for her. As collected as she could come off, her heart was fluttering. She knew it wasn't good for the mission, but God, a part of her just wanted to give into this feeling completely. But she shouldn't. She couldn't, not when Harry's life was still at stake and Voldemort was still out there. The faster the war was over, though, the quicker they could really be together, and Hermione tried to pretend like that wasn't part of her motivation to throw herself back into research.

It was another couple weeks before Hermione felt they were ready for the trip to the apothecary. Or, as ready as they were going to be. They kept the fort up, but stayed in their respective sleeping bags on the floor next to each other, even after switching locations, and had made a plan to go in the middle of the night, break into the apothecary, get what they needed, and get out. They were still planning on using the Polyjuice Potion, though, just in case someone managed to get caught. As long as it lasted long enough. Hermione and Harry both could nonverbally cast Relashio, so if nothing else, as long as they had their wands, they could help each other out. Harry cheered the first time she did it, and Hermione nearly cried from pride in herself and relief. From then on, it was something they were both comfortable practicing on each other and using in duel, and by the end of the two weeks, Hermione's spell was able to cover Harry's mouth as well, which would be useful in keeping anyone else from doing verbal spells. If they could disarm them and cover their mouths, they'd be a little safer, which was something they both practiced again and again to make it as seamless of a process as possible. Harry could disarm nonverbally, but it wasn't Hermione's strongest spell; in practice, she'd gotten it the majority of the time, but in battle, she felt more comfortable with verbals until she was at 100%.

They took a little longer to pack up than normal, since they were procrastinating. Hermione's heart was already racing, and she was pretty sure Harry's was, too. At a quarter past 1am, Hermione handed Harry the vial, swallowing thickly. "Ready?" she asked.

"No."

"Me either."

They drank, and Hermione teared up after a few seconds as her father was standing in front of her, but she sniffed quickly and took his hand, holding onto her bag tightly as they left. It made her feel safer in a way.

She almost closed her eyes the second they arrived in Diagon Alley, expecting to be attacked on the spot. When they weren't, she released the death grip she had on Harry's hand, letting out a shaky breath.

"Try not to act nervous," Harry whispered. He moved his thumb against Hermione's hand, and it did help her relax a little bit.

Yet, she couldn't help but look around quite frantically as they walked. There couldn't be no one watching Diagon Alley, even at this time of night. But it was the safest - if they got attacked in broad daylight, others would get hurt, too. Innocents. And they'd both agreed that wasn't part of the plan.

The only sound besides their breathing was crunching snow under their feet. Luckily, the moon was providing just enough light that they didn't have to use their wands and draw more attention to themselves. It was odd; almost every other time they'd been here, it was vibrant with people and laughter and shopping. Now, with a couple stores boarded up and nothing open, the crooked, snow-capped buildings seemed eerie. The silence itself was almost threatening.

Harry looked around once they reached the apothecary. "Homenum Revelio. Coast is clear. Do you have the list?" he whispered.

She nodded, handing him the second list. She wasn't sure where everything was, and it would be quicker to split up than walk around together. In a place as small as the apothecary, splitting up shouldn't be too dangerous. Shouldn't.

Only then did Hermione draw her wand, nonverbally unlocking the door and casting a light at the tip. She was afraid she was going to break it with how tight her fingers were clamped around it as she pushed the door open slowly, flinching when it creaked.

She didn't waste any time once they crossed the threshold, trusting that Harry went off in the opposite direction in search of his ingredients. Something felt off, but she chalked it up to her fear. This will be fine. It's going to go well. In and out. Just a few minutes, she chanted to herself. In less than a minute, she had the majority of her list - luckily, everything was well-labeled, and she'd been here enough time she knew the layout, which was one of the reasons she chose this one instead of Hogsmeade.

Something shifted, and she heard Harry yell, "Stupefy!" Then, it was chaos. Glass shattered around her as she ducked out of the way of a flash of green, running towards Harry. Relief flooded through her as he grabbed her and pulled her to his side. She barely had time to register the fact that he looked like Harry again before two Death Eaters had them cornered, but not outnumbered.

Sparks of light shot back and forth, ricocheting off shelves, walls, and shields. They didn't want to Apparate under attack in case a spell got through, so they ran, working in silent unison as Harry blocked behind Hermione, who pulled him between the shelves. The back door of the shop blasted outward under Hermione's "Bombarda!", but before her eyes adjusted to the darkness again after the flash, the only thing she saw was a tuft of fur and a searing pain raked over her left shoulder and she collapsed to the ground.

"Sectumsempra!" A howl of pain came from somewhere near her head, her vision blurring. She tried to sit up, but her head was spinning, and she sank back to the ground. "Crucio!" rang out twice followed by two rounds of "Stupefy!", and it sounded like Harry had cast both. Then, all was quiet.

"Hermione," she heard Harry whimper above her. "Come on, we have to get out of here."

"A-Apparate."

"Hermione, you can't-"

"Be… be fine. Just go."

Then the world went black.