A/N: I know this one is long in coming but here it is!

and guess who pops up at the end.. wink wink

Thank you to my Beta's you guys are amazing and would fail miserably without you.

I also am not replying to reviews, i heard they're deleting accounts for it...

so without any more delay, chapter four.


We do what we have to

Chapter 4 – Unexpected

"Hermione, darling. Come sit with me will you?" Mrs. Granger sniffled into her handkerchief and patted the spot next to her on the poorly designed love seat. Hermione rolled her eyes impatiently.

"Mum," she began, a little annoyed as she dropped her wand on her mattress, which she had been trying to make smaller for the move. "I told the Landlord I would be in by this afternoon, I'm going to be late if I have to keep stopping." Hermione's annoyance, however, vanished as she saw the silent tears sliding down her mother's cheek.

"Oh Mum," she sighed, taking the older woman's hands in hers. Looking at them she noticed that her mothers wrists were rather thin and she closed her eyes against the guilt that stabbed her at the sight.

Mrs. Granger was constantly worrying these days. Even though she didn't understand the Wizarding world, she understood when her daughter was in danger. The Granger's had gotten a subscription to the Daily Prophet ever since Hermione's fourth year, when Cedric died.

So naturally they knew all about Voldemort.

And his dislike for Muggles and Muggle born.

Hermione usually skirted around telling them anything about her encounters with Death Eaters, she didn't want them to worry.

"I thought you were alright with me moving out. I'm not even going to the Wizarding world, just to Muggle London, that isn't far." She told her mother quietly, squeezing her hands for reassurance.

Unfortunately it did no help, and her mother broke into full out sobs.

"Oh Hermione!" She cried, pulling her daughter into a hug. "I didn't know it would be so hard to let you move out. I know you're old enough and out of school b-but with all the danger in that world of yours… it's just so hard to know that you'll be safe."

Rubbing her mother's back, Hermione wanted nothing more but to tell her mother that she would be safe and not to worry. She couldn't however, lie like that to her mother.

Hermione Granger had always loved her mother more then anything. She had been her best friend as she grew up in school. The other children had always made her a bit of an outcast, for her unusual love for knowledge and for the strange things that sometimes happened around her.

"Mum," She said carefully. "Do you remember in third grade, when I came home crying because Timmy Lurton threw a rock at me? Well, what I never told you was that Timmy threw one rock at me, and I was so angry and then suddenly three rocks hit him. I hadn't even touched them, nobody touched them, but now I understand it had been the magic in me reacting to my emotions. At the time I was crying because I didn't understand and didn't know where to get a book to help me understand."

She pulled back from her Mother to look at her. Her eyes were a honey brown colour, just like Hermione's, and her hair was the same deep brown but sleek and straight instead of bushy and wild.

"The point, Mum, is that you were never always around then to protect me. No parent can be. And if you were… Then I'd never be able to learn anything, or fend for myself. And I can mom, I can really take care of myself."

To her relief her mother stopped crying, even though her cheeks were stained and her eyes were glossy. Bringing one hand up, she cupped Hermione's face.

"You are so grown up." Was all she said, which shocked Hermione slightly, Mrs. Granger got up then and brushed herself off. "Well, you better finish packing dear." Smiling, Hermione got up and grabbed her wand, saying the incantation to reduce the size of her mattress. Mrs. Granger grabbed the small thing, which was no bigger then her palm and poked it gingerly.

"You know, I'll never get used to this." She stated fondly.

"Sometimes, neither do I." Mother and daughter giggled happily together as they continued packing.

Xxxxxxxxxx

God, this was weird.

She was sitting in a room at Hogwarts, one she had not seen before, but it seemed to be some sort of meeting room.

The room was rather uninviting now that she looked at it. There were no portraits or paintings on the gray stone walls, no couches or chairs or anything that at all said 'come, sit down, have a cup of tea.' No, it seemed this roomed was there for meetings alone. There was no colour what so ever, no rug, nothing. Just a long wooden table with stiff wooden chairs.

Yet there she sat. Surrounded by people she'd known for ages, and yet she was dreadfully uncomfortable. She began fidgeting with her skirt. This was the first Order of the Phoenix meeting Hermione had been invited to attend; she'd been listening in on these meeting since her fifth year. Yet, somehow it didn't seem right.

Probably because Harry and Ron weren't there.

"Well," said Professor McGonagal, sounding slightly disappointed. "I suppose that wraps up this meeting of the Order of the Phoenix." There was a few seconds of silence and reflection before a loud crack; yells of surprise, and roaring laughter filled the room.

"FRED AND GEORGE WEASLEY, HOW DARE YOU SET OFF THOSE DURING A MEETING!"

"But McGonagal said it was over."

Hermione who had her eyes closed tightly opened them slowly at the soft chuckle coming from beside her.

"Miss Granger, I believe I am losing all circulation in my arm, so if you'd please."

An amused Remus Lupin pointed unnecessarily to both of Hermione's hands clutching his arm in a vice grip. She let go immediately.

"I'm sorry Professor. I was rather startled." She stated, rather embarrassed by turning into such a scarred child at an Order meeting. The Order meeting she was initiated into, none the less.

"It's quite alright, and please call me Remus, I am no longer a teacher and you are no longer my student." He smiled warmly at her, but she couldn't help but notice the new lines around his eyes and the graying of his hair. Remus' life was hard, no doubt and she felt bad for him. Smiling back she nodded and was about to respond when she heard her name from the other end of the table.

"Granger!" Her eyes focused on Mad Eye Moody. " Constant vigilance girl! You can't be clutching to the nearest lamp post when a piece of Death Eater scum apparates right in front of you!"

"Sorry Sir." Moody continued to ramble on about 'constant vigilance' but Hermione couldn't help but notice his magical eye was trained on Fred, George and Mrs. Weasley. So her attention turned there.

"Mom, it's a joke banner, for party's."

"Mostly for an ice breaker, you know."

"It's funny you-"

"Can't deny that mum."

Looking up, Hermione noticed the banner in question, which sported the words "Lord of the Trash" and had a badly drawn picture or Voldemort sitting on a large pile of, well, what else? Trash.

Well, Hermione decided, that wasn't funny at all, just slightly disturbing, considering it let off a smell. She pinched her nose with her fingers.

"And let me guess," started an angry Mrs. Weasley. "The trash represents the Death Eaters?"

"Yes, Mum, that's exactly it, you got it in one go! There's still a few kinks to work out, but at least when it explodes into the air it doesn't catch fire anymore!"

"Hermione." Her attention was drawn then to Dean Thomas, who was sitting to her left. " I heard the Ministry rejected you as well." Dean, who was also a muggle born, had wanted to be in the Wizarding Sports department of the Ministry but had also been turned down to the fact of his parentage.

"Yes." She said bitterly.

"That's a shame, I bet you could have done them some good. The Ministry, as much as they say their Anti Voldemort, most department leaders are trying to stay as neutral as possible. You know, incase we lose." Dean said bitterly. "What are you going to do now, do you think?"

Hermione paused before answering. In long term, she didn't really know what she'd end up doing, not anymore. There was no way of knowing either, not with the war knocking on their door.

She could be dead in a month, or a year, or all her friends could be, her parents, all casualties of war. Hermione shivered at the thought, and came up with the first thing that came to mind.

"I'll do what I can Dean, I'll do what I can."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It had been three weeks since Hermione had moved into her flat. Three weeks and she had gotten used to all of the sounds that came with living in a new apartment.

This sound, however, she had not heard at all until this moment.

It was late, around three thirty in the morning and she had woken up to go to the bathroom and get some water. While she was in the kitchen she had heard the tiny whisper of "alohomora" and the rattling of her doorknob as magic tried to open it.

Luckily for her she had set up more extensive wards around her home and her wand let off the buzzing sound to alert her that an intruder was trying to enter.

Silencing her wand she crept toward the door as the unknown person behind it continued to attempt spells that would let them in. Whispering the spell that let down her wards, she kept her wand at the ready. As she expected the door flew open then, and the stunning curse was practically off her lips before she faltered at the person she saw there.

"H-harry," She stated, surprised and dazed as the Boy-Who-Lived entered her front door, and Ron Weasley entered behind him.

"Hello, Hermione," He said, slipping his wand back up his sleeve. The silence that took over the room was thick and uncomfortable but Hermione stood still and made no move until Harry said awkwardly, "You've got a strong set of wards on this place."

That was all that was needed to break the tension before Hermione jumped on Harry, hugging him fiercely as tears slipped down her face. Pulling back she did the same to Ron.

"Hermione," He began just as awkwardly, "come on, you don't have to cry." Pulling herself together she stepped away from the boys and dried her eyes with the back of her hand.

"I've just missed you both so much," she began. "Well, come in, sit down, I'll put on some tea and we can chat." She turned to go to the kitchen but when she heard no one following she stopped.

"We can't really stay to long, Hermione. We should actually leave pretty soon. It isn't safe for us to be staying here."

Hermione nodded in understanding. She didn't have to ask why they had to leave, they'd been fighting Death Eaters and looking for Hurcruxs' for a year now. There was no way they wouldn't have people tailing them.

"We just wanted to see you, it's been so long." Ron said, smiling shyly at her and watching her with sad brown eyes.

It made her incredibly uncomfortable.

"I've missed you two as well." She said truthfully.

She looked at Harry, trying to avoid Ron's eye. He looked brave and proud but it didn't escape her notice that he was constantly looking around the room, in the shadows, waiting for something to come out and attack them.

"We've found more, Hermione," Harry said excitedly. "We've found more of the Hurcruxs'" Smiling broadly Hermione wrapped Harry into another hug.

"That's brilliant of you both! How many have you found?" She asked excitedly.

"All but two," Harry said proudly. "And believe me it was not easy." Harry smiled lightly, making joke of the situation, but Hermione saw the darkness which covered his emerald green eyes. This war had changed Harry, and she knew he had seen new horrors this year.

"Have you any idea what the other two might be?" She said quietly ushering them to sit on the couch.

"We know one of them is Ravenclaws broach. We just don't know where to find it," Ron said. "And since that's three of the four founders, we were guessing that the last one could be something of Godric Gryfindors, like his sward or something, but we don't know for sure yet." Ron beamed proudly.

"That's wonderful you guys, so where have-" but before she could finish, Ron cut her off.

"Anyway Hermione, we were just wondering that since school is over and all… I mean since you're done now… If you'd come with us, to find the last two?"

Hermione's face fell instantly at the expectant look on their faces.

How could they ask her this now? Why not a few weeks ago, she would have come then. But now she was a part of the order and awaiting her first mission, she had just gotten a new job and moved into her flat. There was no way she could go now.

"I can't." She said quietly.

The silence that followed seemed to strangle her.

She was awaiting Ron to blow up into that fiery temper she was so used to. To her surprise however, he just looked incredibly disappointed, like Harry.

God she has missed so much with them over the past year.

"I was initiated into the order, I'm awaiting a mission, I can't just leave." They nodded, and both stood up, immediately getting themselves ready for departure. "Oh please don't go yet." She added desperately.

They turned to her and sadly each gave her a hug goodbye.

"We have to go Hermione, we'll send letters whenever we can. Keep us informed about what's going on with the Order." Harry watched her sadly for a moment, before they both left.

They were gone as fast as they came.

Xxxxx

Hermione, if anything, was a problem solver. She would look at the problem set in front of her, take it apart, and come up with a reasonable plan to fix it.

However as Hermione sat at a dingy bar stool in Diagon Alley, finishing off her first Long Dragon Iced Tea and waving at the bar tender for a second, she didn't care to fix it.

She didn't want to think about why she was sitting there drinking. Hermione Granger did not drink. She was responsible, intelligent,

the one you could count on.

Not anymore.

Hermione took a very long drink of her Iced Tea.

It wasn't that Hermione didn't want to help Harry and Ron, she really did. And she truly believed she couldn't help them if she went with them. Ron and her would probably start fighting and then Harry would want to do it on his own… It could only lead to disaster.

And couldn't she help them more if she stayed where she was and worked for the order? Was she considered boring for not going with them? She worked in a bookstore for gods' sake!

Looking up gloomily from her drink she noticed that things were definitely no longer stationary. She was drunk, to put it bluntly.

"Miss," A voice was calling her name through the fog in her head. She looked up, a little dazed and smiled weakly at the bartender.

"No more, thank you. I think I'm good for the night." She stumbled with the words and the cheery bartender chuckled. She hadn't expected to see a bartender like him in a bar like this. He was short, and a little cubby around the middle. He had rosy cheeks, warm blue eyes and a shaggy mop of dusty brown hair.

The bar on the other hand was dirty and un-welcoming. The floors looked like they hadn't been swept for centuries and the wooden chair's looked as if they'd give out any second. The lights were dim and the whole atmosphere was low key and sent off a rougher vibe.

Hermione didn't know the 'pub scene' around where she lived, she just wanted to go somewhere she wouldn't run into anyone she knew. She wanted to get out but be alone. Chuckling, the bartender answered her.

"Yes Miss, I definitely see you have had enough." He leaned in closer, and his smile faded briefly, giving her an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach, like the type you get after your house lost a Quidditch game. "I just wanted to tell you that the man in the corner," he motioned to said corner with his eyes. "He's been watching you for quite sometime now, I just want to make sure you be careful with yourself getting home."

The smile appeared back on his face as he moved back from her and he nodded once, moving to the other side of the counter to help a customer.

Hermione stayed looking forward for a few minutes after he was gone, swirling her straw among her ice. Being in the Order with Mad Eye Moody taught her to not be obvious to anyone, to not let people think you know what you're doing. So as she naturally turned her head to the left to peer casually down the counter, she hoped the man wasn't still looking.

To her surprise however, no one was there.

She looked to the right, and then both corners behind her, but there were no men in any of the corners. In fact, there was hardly anyone in the bar at all. The only people who were left were three older witches who seemed to be talking about the best deals on potion ingredients.

Sighing Hermione decided that it was enough excitement for one night and got up to leave. Paying her bill and putting a tip on the counter she left.

Stepping outside she wrapped her robe tightly around her and began dreaming about warm bed covers and coffee, which would hopefully sober her up.

Suddenly the hairs on the back of her neck lifted and Hermione no longer felt alone in the narrow alley. Wand in hand she peered carefully around her, looking for anything strange or out of place. But all she found was a sleek black cat, which was behind her.

Smiling slightly at how cautious she was over a cat, she bent down and scratched the animal's chin lightly.

"Hey little guy, it's late, you shouldn't be out here in the cold." Smiling she patted it on the head before standing back up and turning to continue her walk.

A surge of magic came from behind her, and just as quick she felt a hand clap roughly over her mouth and an arm around her belly.

Fight, was the first instinct that came to her mind, she couldn't reach her wand but as long as she was conscious she could fight.

She started struggling furiously and managed to kick her attacker in the shin and elbow him in his gut, hoping he would loosen his grip.

"Damn!" she heard a familiar angry voice hiss before a wand was pressed firmly to her temple and Stupefy was uttered.


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