Disclaimer: I claim no rights to Harry Potter or any subsequent plotlines or characters. Everything belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic Books Inc, and Bloomsbury Publishing. The only thing that belongs to me is whatever comes out of my brain…

The members of the Order were going to be mad. No, not mad, furious. They were going to be furious. Arabella had only left her post for a day. Just one day, and now the Dursley's were dead. She shuddered and hurried away from Number Four, Privet Drive, looking over her shoulder at the Dark Mark looming overhead.

Arabella had just returned from visiting her sick sister in London and had immediately noticed the Mark over Harry's relative's home. She had started running towards the house, slowing down only when she noticed the front door was wide open. Either the Death Eaters had been sloppy and just left it opened when they had gone, or they were still there. She had to exercise caution.

Rather than going inside, Arabella had gone home and sent a message to the Order, requesting immediate assistance. Because she was a Squib, she couldn't utilize the Order's much quicker method of communication and had to rely on owl post. Now all she could do was wait. Three hours later of just sitting in her dark kitchen, and no one had responded.

"I hope someone arrives soon," she murmured to the empty kitchen. Even the cats were nowhere to be seen. Now back in the safety of her own home, Arabella felt slightly calmer. But not much. Poor Harry! She wondered if he knew.

"Arabella?" A voice came softly from the front door.

She jumped at the sound. It had been so quiet.

"Who's there?"

There was a pause. "It's Arthur and Charlie Weasley."

"I'm in the kitchen."

Moments later, two red-haired men poked their heads around the door. "You all right, there, Mrs. Figg?" Charlie Weasley asked with concern.

She stood up to greet them. "I'm fine. Although I can't say the same for that poor boy's family." At this, Mrs. Figg looked up at Arthur in wide-eyed realization of what she had just said. "Oh! I didn't mean…"

Arthur shook his head, waving the statement away while Charlie just smiled graciously. "Not to worry, Mrs. Figg. Shall we go investigate, then?"

"Do…do you need me to accompany you or can the two of you go it alone? I'm afraid I won't be of much help." Mrs. Figg looked sheepishly at her worn linoleum floor.

"If you would prefer to stay behind, Charlie and I are more than capable of checking things out."

She nodded, casting them both a grateful smile. "If you can stay, when you're finished that is, I have some tea and biscuits."

"That would be wonderful," Arthur began.

"But we're wanted back at Headquarters as soon as possible," Charlie finished apologetically.

This news did not faze Mrs. Figg in the least. Instead, she briskly stood up and began gathering biscuits into a container and pressed them into the younger Weasley's hands. "Then take these with you. Merlin knows I don't need all of them!"

"Thank you, Mrs. Figg," Charlie accepted the biscuits and put them in the pocket of his robes.

Arthur held out a hand which Mrs. Figg shook gently. "We really must be off. Get some rest, Arabella."

"Yes, of course. Although I'm not entirely sure I'll be able to sleep." She smiled at them sadly. "Thank you both for coming."

A moment later and they had apparated away.

The door to the Dursley's home was still wide open when Arthur and Charlie apparated onto the front step. "This place is becoming too familiar," Arthur shook his head as he carefully stepped inside, wand held out in front of him.

Charlie, following suit, came in close behind him. "You were just here a few days ago, weren't you?"

"To fetch Harry, yes." Arthur paused, turning to look at his son. "Truth be told, I never really liked the Dursley's. The way they treated Harry was simply appalling, but I didn't feel as though I could do or say anything that would help."

"You opened our home to him. I'm sure that meant more to Harry than he would ever tell any of us."

"Lumos." The light at the end of Arthur's wand shone into the darkness, casting an eerie glow over the Dursley family. The two Weasley men shuddered simultaneously as they viewed the bodies of Vernon, Petunia and Dudley, all either draped awkwardly over the stairs, or in Dudley's case, lying on his back staring straight at the ceiling with an expression of utmost horror. "You're right; Harry isn't very forthcoming about his feelings, is he?"

"Not particularly," Charlie shook his head, surveying the bodies. "The Killing Curse, then?"

"It looks like they were all scared to death, so I would imagine so. I just wish I knew what had happened after the fact."

Walking around the living room, Charlie lightly ran a hand over the mantel above the fireplace. "Nothing has been disturbed. It's all in perfect order."

"So they came, killed them, sent up the Dark Mark and left? That seems a little off," Arthur mused.

"What do you mean? It seems very characteristic of them."

"We're talking about Harry Potter's family. I would have expected them to at least have tortured them for quite some time, if only for entertainment." Arthur gave the room one final glance before looking at his second eldest. "I believe we have all the information we need. We should get back to headquarters and report our findings." A moment later all that was left in the dark, cold house were the lifeless bodies of the family who had caused Harry so much turmoil.

Hermione grunted as she rolled clumsily out of the fire place at Number 12 Grimmauld Place. "I hate Floo," she muttered crossly, picking herself up and brushing off her robes.

"Hello, Hermione," a friendly voice greeted her from the door. Remus Lupin stood against the doorframe, smiling kindly.

"Professor! You startled me!"

Still smiling, he responded, "Hermione, really. How many times do I have to say it? I'm not your professor any longer. Remus will do just fine."

Stammering, Hermione looked down at the hem of her robes. "I-I know. I'm just not used to calling adults by their first names. Especially my teachers."

"Understandable. However, you are an adult yourself, are you not?"

"I keep forgetting," she admitted sheepishly.

They stood there in awkward silence for a moment before Hermione spoke up. "I suppose I should get to work then."

"Of course. I've pulled a few books from the Black family, er, more obscure collection. That should get you started on what you're looking for, but let me know if you need further assistance." He paused, then, "Would you like to work in here or someplace less…musty?"

Hermione laughed. The room was indeed dark and musty smelling. It reminded her of the basement at her grandmother's old house, although that didn't have the distinct feeling of dread and horror that this room did. "Someplace brighter would be nice. If we could avoid going past the portrait of Mrs. Black however, that would be superb."

Remus' eyes twinkled. "Didn't I tell you? We took her down."

"How? I thought she had put a Sticking Charm on it!"

"We got creative. Fred and George have amazing minds when they're allowed to really put their inventive skills to use."

"Don't I know it," Hermione muttered, thinking of the little bit of swamp that had stayed in the halls of Hogwarts after the twins had left. "Well, then, shall we?"

"Indeed, milady," Remus offered his arm, which Hermione took, and they set off for the library upstairs. "I'd almost forgotten. We've hired a new house elf."

She looked hurt; almost offended. "You didn't! You know how I feel about that!"

"Calm down, Hermione. I think you'll be rather pleased, actually."

"What do you mean?"

"Just wait," he told her mysteriously as he pulled open the heavy oak door to reveal a rather extensive library.

Hermione breathed in deeply, enjoying the smell of old books permeating the room. She moved into the library, turning around slowly as she took in the volumes that went as high as the ceiling. "Don't tell Harry I ever said anything positive about this place, but this library is amazing!"

Remus chuckled. "Your secret's safe with me. Now, the books I found are all over on the table over there and Winky will get you whatever you need."

Hermione started walking slowly towards the table and stood there, her hands resting lightly on top of the pile of books. "Thanks, Remus. This should give me a good…Hang on. Did you say Winky?" She spun around on her heel and stared at the older man.

Remus nodded. "Winky?"

A small, awkward looking creature appeared before them, bowing low, her ears flattening as they hit the floor. "Yes, Master Remus?" she squeaked softly.

Hermione's hand rose to cover her mouth in disbelief. This did not look at all like the Winky she had seen in the Hogwarts' kitchens, sobbing uncontrollably and stumbling drunkenly from too much butterbeer. No, this Winky was dressed in a crisp white tea towel and appeared to be completely sober. Most importantly, her eyes were dry.

Remus crouched down so that he was directly in front of the house elf. "Winky, do you remember Hermione Granger?"

Winky looked up at Hermione who smiled gently and gave a tiny wave in greeting. "You is friends with Harry Potter, Miss."

"That's right, Winky," Hermione encouraged. "How have you been?"

"Winky is much happier working with Master Remus, but I am not liking getting compensation." She looked down at her over-sized feet nervously.

Hermione looked at Remus again, surprised and delighted. "You're paying her?"

"I told you that you would be pleased. Now, if you need anything at all, Winky will be happy to get it for you."

"I'll be just fine, thank you, Winky," Hermione told the house elf kindly. Winky bowed low once more then disappeared with a loud crack. "I'm so glad you're paying her, Remus. More people need to start doing that."

"Unfortunately, most wizards still see house elves as servants or slaves, to be quite frank. I personally think you have the right idea, Hermione, I just think it's going to take a long time to start the revolution. Let's just be happy with the small victories, like Dobby and now Winky."

Hermione nodded silently, her lips pressed together as she moved to one side of the table. She pulled the chair out, sat down, and opened the first book. The print was tiny and partially smudged and Hermione sighed, rubbing her eyes. It was going to be a long day.

"Shall I leave you to it, then? Or would you like some company?"

She looked up at him gratefully. "Another set of eyes would be wonderful, actually. I have a feeling this may take a while."

Remus took the next book in the pile and opened it, holding the ancient tome gently in his lap. They fell into a comfortable silence; the only sounds were that of their breathing and turning pages. Several hours later, Hermione looked up from the book she had been reading and wearily rubbed her eyes. Looking toward the window, she blinked disbelievingly. "Is it really almost dark?" She mused aloud, for indeed dusk had fallen over Number 12 Grimmauld place, giving the sky an eerily orange glow.

Remus looked up at the window as well. "It certainly seems that way. Would you like to take a break and eat something?"

"I don't know," she looked guiltily at the stack of books before them. "I don't like to leave things unfinished."

"Yes, but if you don't get some nourishment, you won't be able to concentrate," Remus countered. "Come on, I'll have Winky bring up some sandwiches for us."

Hermione shook her head. "If it's all the same, I'd rather do it myself. I don't like the idea of that poor creature doing things that I could very well do for myself."

"Even though she's getting paid for it," he asked inquisitively.

"Exactly."

Remus shrugged as though to say 'suit yourself' and pushed away from the table, stretching as he stood. "Well, I don't know about you, but I am hungry and if you would like to join me in the kitchen for some dinner, you are more than welcome."

Hermione gave one last glance at the books then stood as well, deciding that there would be time later to come back and research some more. Getting sustenance was just as important as reading these books because, as Remus had said, she would have no hope of concentrating on anything without something in her very empty stomach. They walked to the door and as Remus shut it, Hermione's stomach gave very loud evidence of just how hungry she was.

"Hungry?" The older man looked at her, amused.

Rubbing her stomach, Hermione rolled her eyes. "Apparently. How about those sandwiches?"

"Coming right up."

They set off for the kitchen, talking and laughing along the way, Hermione's stomach interjecting with its rumbles and growls occasionally.

Upon arriving in the kitchen, they heard two men's voices discussing something inside. When Hermione opened the door, she was delighted to see Mr. Weasley and one of Ron's older brothers, Charlie. Both men turned their attention to the door and smiled at the intruders.

"Remus, Hermione, good to see you," Arthur greeted them.

"Hello Arthur," Remus replied, extending his hand to Charlie. "Haven't seen you lately, Charlie; how have you been?"

Charlie glanced at his father and shrugged. "Doing alright, I suppose." He looked quizzically at Hermione who was hanging back by the door. "How are you, Hermione?"

"Oh!" Startled, she looked over the very handsome young man. "Hungry, actually. We came down to get some food before we continue researching."

"Just what are the two of you researching," Arthur asked, curiosity bright in his eyes.

Deciding to come over and join the three older men, Hermione told him, "How to destroy horcruxes."

Remus smiled grimly as Arthur and Charlie looked at her in shock. "She isn't one to beat around the bush, is she? Harry, Ron and Hermione believe that they have found one of Voldemort's horcruxes and they need to learn how to destroy it."

"Even if you did find out the proper method," Charlie mused, "would any of you have the power to perform the spell? I saw Dumbledore's hand after he demolished that first one last year."

"That actually wasn't the first one," Hermione corrected him, "but that's beside the point. I think it depends on if there's anything protecting the horcrux. Somebody found this one already and planted it at Godric's Hollow. It's the one that Harry and professor Dumbledore thought they had found the night the Headmaster died. As far as the ritual itself being too difficult, I suppose we shall cross that bridge when we come to it." She looked at the two Weasleys curiously. "What are the two of you doing here? Not that I'm displeased to see either of you."

Arthur exchanged glances with his son before responding. "You might as well here this from us rather than the Prophet."

Hermione groaned. "Oh, Merlin, what have they printed about Harry this time?"

"It's not about Harry, directly," Charlie tried to reassure her. "But it is about his family."

"I'm sorry?"

Arthur sighed. "Shortly after Ron and I left with Harry, from what we can surmise anyhow, the Dursley's were attacked and killed by some Death Eaters."

Hermione gasped, her hand covering her open mouth in shock. Then, she frowned in concern as something occurred to her. "Had the Prophet gotten wind of this yet?"

Arthur shook his head. "We're keeping it fairly quiet right now."

"Good," Hermione nodded her agreement. "I don't want Harry finding out like that. I know he was particularly close to them, but they were his family."

"Will you tell him, Hermione?" Charlie asked her. "Dad and I could, but he knows you. He might take it better if it came from you."

"I'll tell him as soon as I get back. In the mean time, I have more research to do. If you will all excuse me," Hermione took her plate and pushed through the door, leaving the men in the kitchen in silence.