Fuck, I almost forgot you were here, Merlin...'

'Sirius, what- what-?' Stuttered Hermione, her mouth slightly open. There was so much, so much blood, a thick gash on his cheek still bleeding, and the front of his cloak covered in it.

'Don't worry, it's not mine- most of it anyway,' he said dismissively, entering the dimly lit room. 'Kreacher! Where's that elf when you need him? Bloody-Kreacher!'

Hermione's hand was steady as she pointed her wand at him. Her heart was racing madly, and by God, the blood, but on the outside she could trust her face to not betray her, to stay steady.

'Sirius, what's happening? Look, you need to tell me. Was it the Death Eaters- Voldemort- look, I don't know-'

He did not meet her eyes, his gaunt face illuminated in the light, as he looked over around the room. 'Emmeline Vance is dead.' Sirius said suddenly, his voice rough.

Hermione did not have the barest idea who Vance was, and she didn't care. 'You killed her?'

'Merlin, no,' he said, shaking his head, not meeting her eyes. 'No, I didn't. Where's that ruddy elf- Kreacher!'

His eyes were feverish, he was looking all around the house calculatingly.

'You- Hermione- you can't stay here anymore; no you can't...there, you know how to use the Floo don't you-' He was stumbling over the words, his eyes darting across the house madly, as though he didn't remember where he was.

'What the fuck, Sirius? At least tell me what's going on. You barge in, covered in blood, tell me some woman's dead, and now you say I can't stay here anymore?'

He sighed. 'I don't have the time; what I mean is you're not safe here anymore. Look, I'll tell you the whole truth- but not now. The Cruciatus did not exactly leave me in the best of moods- finally the elf's here.'

Kreacher was standing at the base of the stairs now, eyes wider than ever.

'Master Sirius-'

'Listen here, Kreacher. I want you-' His voice broke slightly. He cleared his throat roughly and continued. '-To go up to Regulus's room, and get those photos- the one with him and Barty Crouch. Oh, and Hermione,' he said. 'If you want to know- Fudge is dead.'

'What?'

'Yeah, that's the big fight. Look, I swear, I'll let you know, but you're not safe here anymore- I'm gonna have to seal the fireplace as well- they might be back. So for now, if you can floo to Andromeda's- I think she can have you for a night; she will; I have to get patched up; as much as I hate to admit it- I'm out of practise-'

'Fine,' she said, cutting into his rambling. He was still bleeding. 'Fine, I understand. I'll leave.'

Hermione most certainly did not understand, and she most certainly did not want to leave either, but she still asked him for Andromeda's address.

After all, she could not understand the situation if she was dead.

Her head was spinning, she coughed loudly, as the sight of an abandoned living room came into view. There was the distant sound of glass breaking. Her wand at the ready, Hermione walked through carefully- the hall was unsettlingly empty, but there were loud sounds of things crashing down. She put up a shield around her, before parting the curtains an inch.

The streets were deceptively calm- there were hardly two cars passing by.

She heard the footsteps before she saw the Death Eater- her shield charm held his Stunner. Hermione turned, ducking another jet of red light. He was not going to kill her- that much was evident- so she decided to focus on getting back to the fireplace. Surely, he couldn't have sealed the fireplace yet. The glitter of the powder was still there on her hands; she had some in her pocket.

'Reducto! Impedimenta!'

The jinx held, the man had slowed down, the table was reduced to dust, and yet fear was cold in her chest.

Her leg hooked over an elaborate decor stand, and she fell onto the cold floor. The curse hit. The last thing she saw before her eyes closed was red light.

Hermione could not breathe- she was in so much pain- every nerve was on fire- the knife was just stabbing in deeper and deeper- twisting- burning- her hands were shaking so bad, there was blood- so much of it...

Her head hit the floor. There was no blood, only the ghastly mask of a Death Eater staring back at her. She was frozen. Her lips moved, her hands searched but there was nothing to grasp- no sound; no rush of magic.

Hermione's fingers wrapped around her wand tighter, the words were at her lips, but she could not say them, all she could see was the detail in that silver mask- the Muggle woman floating like a ragdoll.

'Protego!' she managed, just on time to his spell. She willed herself to get up, to move to spit another curse, but she couldn't- everything had stopped.

The man dropped down, his head meeting the floor in a sickening crack. She was trembling. Now there was blood, red, red, and so much of it.

She met familiar grey eyes, and it took her a moment to realise they were not Sirius's. Andromeda Tonks held out her hand. She did not take it.

Her head hurt but even in this haze of pain and confusion she would not make another mistake.

Flipping her wand like a knife in her fingers, held at position, Hermione stood straight even as her legs felt like they were about to collapse. Her wand was pointed at Andromeda's throat.

Now she could breathe.

'At Sirius's house- what did you say about me?'

'I said you were a sharp one- that you had the good sense to know when you're not needed. I'll repeat it- you're a sharp one.'

'Fudge is dead,' she managed. Her head still hurt.

'Yes, we know. My darling brother in law is planning to stand in office.'

She could not understand what Andromeda was saying; there was only pain, only a sense of suffocation.

'Yes, the Cruciatus can do that. Sit down, won't you?'

She was handed a glass of water. Hermione did not dare take it.

'Honestly,' sighed Andromeda. 'I think we've established you're safe here.'

Hermione shook her head.

'Aguamenti!'

The water did not help much, but at least she had stopped trembling now. 'The man,' she ventured, trying not to think of the sound his head made on connecting with the floor, the blood everywhere. 'Is he- is he dead?'

'No. I've stunned him anyway- he'll live.'

Hermione wasn't so sure of that, with the wound on his head.

'And where were you when I came in- the house was empty.'

Hermione could not comprehend what was going on, everything was a haze of pain and confusion, and even standing here with a fallen Death Eater and blood staining the floor, she was finding every breath a miracle.

'I was outside the house- Ted had just sent me the news. I'd thought we'd go ignored really, but I suppose having a Death Eater for nearly every family relation does complicate things.'

'Your sister- she's in Azkaban?'

Andromeda nodded.

Hermione gripped her wand, her brain trying to make sense. Fudge was dead- (why?)- Emmeline Vance was dead- someone had realized she would come to Andromeda's that is, Voldemort had either realised Sirius was a spy or he had just wanted the Tonkses out of their way but why?

Even worse, had he known Hermione would come here and sent the man? But if it was for her, well, frankly she was insulted they could think one Death Eater was enough.

Don't be so cocky, Granger. It took Andromeda to save you.

Or maybe it was just about Sirius. Maybe Voldemort did not trust Sirius. Maybe whatever orders that he'd given had not been carried on to his satisfaction.

But why kill Fudge?

She could remember the cold voice hissing in her dreams- He wanted to take over the Ministry before coming to her. But there were easier ways- an Imperius curse would have been more discreet.

'Why was that Death Eater here?' she asked.

'Oh darling,' said Andromeda. 'He's not a Death Eater. There's no mark on his arm.'

'Then- why- is he dressed as one? The mask, the robes...?'

'I don't know, really. We'll have to wait for now: it's not safe here; you can't move.'

'The Weasleys? Can I floo there or something-'

'Arthur Weasley works for the Ministry. I think they're having enough to worry about. You'll have to stay here.'

Andromeda stood up. 'I suppose that's Dora's owl, stay here, Hermione.'

Sure enough, there was a brown owl on the window ledge. Andromeda summoned a quill, scribbled a reply. When she turned, Hermione could see her face was more at ease than before; her features were relaxed.

'What about him?' she asked, gesturing at the stunned man lying on the floor. Andromeda smiled, and it was as mad as her sister, a sister who had proclaimed loyalty to the very man who wanted Hermione's death.

'I can take care, darling. I'm sealing the fireplace now- it's going to be just the two of us. I'd suggest you to get some sleep, because, from what I can understand, tomorrow's going to be difficult.'

Hermione nodded, her mind on different things. She knew she wouldn't be able to sleep anyway.

The first words she heard in the morning were not "good morning" but rather-

'Dumbledore and Lucius Malfoy are standing against each other for the elections.' said Andromeda Tonks, standing at the doorway. Her hair was disheveled, face pale. She looked exhausted, and yet the way she stood was full of tension, an undercurrent of doubt and worry.

Hermione's head was still hurting. She got up slowly, blinking. The bed was soft, way softer than the Hogwarts beds, and it had only added to her insomnia of the night.

'But what's the point? Malfoy- literally everyone knows Dumbledore will win- least of all against Lucius Malfoy.'

'Darling, you can't be both Headmaster and Minister.'

'Oh,' Hermione gasped, realisation dawning. 'Voldemort doesn't want Dumbledore to be the head of Hogwarts any longer. But why can't anyone else stand up against Malfoy- is he really that well liked?'

'Malfoy was close with Fudge; he has the Daily Prophet more or less in his hands; well, he's certainly paid them enough gold for it. There was Emmeline Vance- she is quite prominent in politics-'

'-But she's dead.' Hermione finished.

Andromeda nodded. 'It isn't like there isn't anyone else to contend- there's Amelia Bones, Pius Thicknesse, even Rufus Scrimgeour if he can put up himself to it. But, there won't be a clean victory- if they're forced to get into a coalition or something; then that's not going to help Britain. You see, the Malfoys still have a name among the old families; some of them might vote for him merely based on that- it is difficult to say. But if Dumbledore contends, then it's a major victory, Malfoy will be defeated easily- there's not even a faint hope of him coming even as a worthy contender. But if someone else, like say, Rufus Scrimgeour contends, then it won't be as much of a clear cut; it gives a chance for Malfoy to build himself an image. That makes him more of an opposition, an open force in politics, and we don't want that.'

'But if Dumbledore does become Minister, he'll just tell everyone about Voldemort being back, and isn't that a disadvantage...?'

'Darling, no one thought he was dead. They've been rumours around it for years, which have only just died down, but died down doesn't mean it'll be a big surprise. Surely a bad news. But not traumatic. And killing Fudge doesn't exactly spell subtlety.'

'But even then,' said Hermione, still not understanding why Voldemort wanted to make such a move. 'Dumbledore will probably just make McGonagall Headmistress. If anything, this just gives Dumbledore more power.'

'There are two sides. Maybe it gives him power- but you see, it is difficult- Hogwarts without Dumbledore; it means the board of governors get more power; it means he has to maintain Hogwarts' independence even more.'

'How does this work, anyway?' asked Hermione. She did not know much about politics; neither in the magical or the muggle one- but she had never seen much of campaigns or party promotions in the wizarding world.

'Does Malfoy belong to a particular party? Or single candidates contest?'

'You see; it depends. Dumbledore was certainly offered the position out of mere merit, but the man's an exception. Usually, there are interdepartmental politics, and they appoint one of the heads by the votes of the Wizengamot. This is when there are no other opposing forces. But when there are, and they contest, then there's a proper election.'

'And they're not making an exception for Dumbledore this time?' Hermione asked, thinking privately that this was a system that seemed to be on the brink of collapse. With most of the population working in the Ministry itself, it wasn't much of a surprise to hear that the Minister was chosen through department heads. There was barely any political opposition here.

Why the fuck was Voldemort meddling into such an unstable system? And why Lucius Malfoy?

Andromeda sighed. 'It was different last time- the defeat of Grindelwald was still fresh, among other things. Fudge was elected only because Dumbledore refused the position. And the Ministry won't want to discredit Lucius now- not after all the gold he's given.'

'But do they know- who killed Fudge?'

'Darling, Dumbledore himself doesn't know.'

'And if the Aurors are onto this-'

'Yes, the Barty Crouch case will be pushed behind.'

'And soon, it's not even gonna matter anymore; Dumbledore will just make Voldemort's return public- God, I really don't know how this is going to end. When can I leave?'

'Not today.'

'When are the elections?'

'In a week's time.'

'What about the Weasleys? You mentioned they're having a bad time-'

'Not just them. It's almost everyone who works at the Ministry who have been affected by this. Now they'll want to know how secure their jobs are, now they'll have to switch head of departments and shuffle cases; some could lose their jobs- and this is quite the shock.'

'Sirius?'

'Merlin knows. I haven't heard from him.'

'I think he was- was there- when Emmeline Vance was killed.'

Andromeda shook her head slightly, looking even more miserable.

'What did you to do to that man, then?'

The smirk returned. 'Nothing, darling- just kicked him out. I'm not the best at cooking- I've attempted some toast. I'll be waiting for you.' She said instead, her eyes somewhere far away.

Hermione did not blink.

'I'm not eating anything.' From here.

The door slammed shut.

Hermione desperately wanted to read up more- she wanted an in depth explanation as to how Magical Britain's political system worked, she wanted to know more about pureblood factions, she wanted a newspaper that would fucking tell the news as it was without a Rita Skeeter meddling in.

And yet, here she was, locked up in Andromeda Tonks' house.

She had managed nearly a day without eating anything, with only the occasional water making charm to quench her thirst. Hermione was hungry, sure, but she had spent way more time hungrier.

She just knew she couldn't bring herself to trust.

It sounded illogical and paranoid and mental even to her own ears, but Hermione simply couldn't. She didn't understand anything that was going on, she didn't know what to do; she didn't know what was going to happen to her, what was going to change in Hogwarts, she just didn't know any damn thing- except that everything was massively fucked up.

It wasn't anything wrong with Andromeda really, it was Hermione herself. She was literally staying in the woman's house, and yet she could not bring herself.

Why?

Hermione got up from the bed. Andromeda's house was in a muggle area. When she parted the curtains, there was only the usual noses of traffic. It was getting dark, it was late in the evening.

You're safe here, Hermione. Safe.

No.

Was she safe anywhere?

But nothing could happen to her here anymore. There were no more fake Death Eaters. Or real ones. No more news of murders.

Her head was still hurting, but she walked down for dinner anyway.

'Hermione?' asked Andromeda. It was the second day of Hermione's stay here. It was morning, and she was browsing through Ted Tonks' collection of books; he worked as a Healer at St. Mungo's and had to stay there for the next few days for a particular emergency.

Hermione turned, keeping back The essentials of potions making for Healers back into the shelf. She desperately missed the Hogwarts' library; with it's numerous shelves and thousands and thousands of books, on literally every topic you could imagine, the thrill of learning something.

'Sirius has sealed Grimmauld. He sent me an owl just now, I thought you'd like to know.'

'Oh,' she said, not finding any words. 'Where is he?'

'I don't know. I think he's with the Death Eaters, I mean, he has to keep up his cover.'

'I suppose so.'

'You'll probably have to stay here for the rest of the summer then.'

Hermione smiled wryly. One week to Hogwarts. She would have to count the days to stop her from going mad.

'Thank you, Mrs. Tonks.'

A/N:

Yeah, the electoral and politic system is highly messed up in both JKR's and mine. If it is modelled over the British political system, which I am not very well versed in but since my country has copied I mean, modeled it on the British parliamentary system I think I have an idea of works. But then the Wizengampt has to function as both parliament and judiciary, which undermines the concept of an independent judiciary, but anyway, as there is no particular political party introduced here, it means I cannot base this on such a system and have therefore come up with the even bigger, more fucked up mess of JKR's mess.

eid mubarak!