The sky was a Ravenclaw blue when Hermione slipped out of Draco's slumbered embrace. She knew he was out cold by the way his lashes fluttered in a reaction to his dream, giving it a safe bet that she'd be able to sneak out without his noticing. Though, it was tearing her apart to do so.
A pair of clothes were folded under the bed in preparation for a quick getaway. She put them on with great speed, and great caution, not bothering to put the shoes on until she was downstairs.
Her extension charmed purse had been packed for days. All she had to do was slip it over her shoulder and leave. But the latter was near impossible.
The sheets were loose around Draco's waist, and the spot next to him looked cruelingly empty. A whitegold shade of moonlight shone over his face, making him look untainted. It took an immeasurable amount of self restraint for Hermione not to crawl back in next to him and stay for those extra two days.
Or for eternity.
Giving her heart just one more gift, she brushed his fringe to the side and kissed the tip of his scar. She silently promised him that this wasn't a goodbye, it was an I'll be back for you.
With the courage that only the Sorting Hat could have summoned, Hermione left their bedroom. The door clicked shut and she permitted two streams of tears to fall before she wiped them away, shook the guilt off her hands and made her way downstairs.
Harry was in the living room waiting for her. Without crutches.
"Ready?" He said mid nod.
"As I'll ever be. How are your legs?"
"They're fine. Are you okay? Your eyes are puffy."
She waved him off, "Let's not talk about it."
"That's a nice watch. Reckon I might've seen that one before."
Looking down, the symbol of Draco's affection laid heavy on her wrist. She traced the carving of the snake in hopes that, somehow, he would understand her leaving.
"It's not really my colour," she joked. Harry agreed. "We need to leave now before the sun rises. Here, do you need to put anything in my bag?"
He gave her three items: A photo of Ginny, Ron's wand and the golden snitch he first caught. Each of which he handed over reluctantly.
"Right," he huffed. "Should we use the invisibility cloak?"
"No, I don't think so. Everyone is asleep and once we're out of the wards, we'll apparate to the nearest bus stop before anyone can catch us."
"You haven't taken all of the money, have you? You've left some here for everyone?"
She licked her suddenly dry lips and nodded. "McGonagall always gave us too much each month. I've only taken the excess pounds that we haven't used in the last few weeks. A few hundred to keep us comfortable in case this takes longer than we thought."
"Yeah, good idea. Alright let's get out of here."
Leading the way, Harry and Hermione tiptoed down the hallway, through the kitchen and out the front door. Harry's legs nearly gave way at the unfamiliar position that tiptoeing brought, but he caught himself on a wall and kept going without looking back.
As they reached the boundary wards, he didn't care to take one final glance at the farmhouse, but Hermione did. She thanked the home for it's hospitality and care, and begged it to continue to keep guard of her family inside. Then blew a kiss to her bedroom window.
Stepping through the buzz of magic, Harry seemed to be having a moment of disbelief as he looked down both paths of the country road he stood at the centre of.
"Feeling like a freed captive?" Hermione asked.
"Do people usually have to bunk with their ex girlfriends in prison?" He replied sarcastically. "Or am I one of the lucky ones?"
"I'm sure Azkaban has seen much worse than exes."
"Yeah—Bellatrix Lestrange."
As she rolled her eyes, she offered her hand for him to grab. But then, mid arm raise, a crackle popped by their side, and a panicked Professor McGonagall stood before them. Nightgown, hair braid and all.
"And just what do you two think that you are doing?!" The elder witch hissed, pointing her wands at her old students.
Startled and pissed off, Harry asked, "How did you know we were here?"
"It saddens me that you did not think I would not place a spell over this threshold to warn me shall you try to run away, Mr Potter."
"Of course you bloody did," he mumbled.
"Professor," Hermione said. "We know that you have been keeping the truth from us. We know that you and Andromeda have been poisoning Harry to keep him from walking! How could you? How could you do that to him? To us!?"
"Miss Granger, you are nineteen. It was my duty to keep the truth from you."
A shiver ran down her spine. That was as close to having a conversation with her mother as she'd ever had in the past two years. It was comforting and jarring all at the same time.
"Was it your duty to paralyse me, too?" Harry used his legs flamboyantly to get his message further across. "What kind of teacher are you to do that to someone?"
"A teacher who cares far deeper about her students than Albus Dumbledore!"
Despite them being in open land, McGonagall still echoed. She lowered her wand and dropped her shoulders into a slouch. Disappointment owning her.
Harry and Hermione side-eyed each other, unsure where this was coming from, nor where it was going to go. Though it was evident how worn down she was by her lies.
"It was wrong of Albus to hold such grand expectations for people as young as you two. He should have seen what it had done to your parents, Mr Potter, in the first wizarding war. How it ripped them from life before they had a chance to live it."
There was a gloss over her heavy eyes. Possibly the first show of emotion that they'd ever seen from their professor. The first time she'd let her guard down.
"You took away our choice," said Hermione.
"You should never have had one in the first place. You should have been protected as children, not used for bait, or trained as soldiers. I placed you in these safehouses because I had what Albus did not."
"What?"
"A mother's heart." McGonagall deflated further. "He was a wise man, one that I had the honour of standing beside for many years. But I could not carry on his legacy anymore. The Battle of Hogwarts was my final straw. Too many young lives were lost, and I did what needed to be done."
Harry was fuming. Hermione could feel the literal heat coming off of his body. "So what? You've cooped up all of your students into houses and lied to them for almost a year?"
"Many families have fled Britain, Mr Potter. The ones that have no choice but to stay, or have volunteered, are the ones that I have provided for. That Mr Malfoy has helped provide for."
"Does Draco know about this? Does he know what his money is being used for?"
"He knows that it has been used to help the Order, no matter the category that may fall into. But no, Miss Granger, he has not been informed of anything beyond what either of you were told."
Relief cleansed Hermione. She wouldn't know what to do if Draco had been keeping this from her this entire time. They don't lie to each other, they tell the truth to matter how brutal it may be. Well—at least they used to.
"Who is your spy?" She asked. "Is it Snape? He seems to be the only one that would have one foot on each side of the fence."
"I cannot tell you that."
"Professor, we need to know what is happening out there," Harry said. "You have to tell us the truth, or we'll find it out for ourselves. You know we will."
Somehow, McGonagall sagged even further. Her skin was grey with exhaustion and even in the glimmer of the sunrise, there was little life left in her. Hermione could see that the war was defeating her, and as much as it pained her, she had to tap out.
"We've been trying to find the snake, but have not had success. There have been smaller attacks over the past months. Some victorious, some not. We've lost six people."
"If so many of us have been locked away, who has been fighting?"
"Not many. A lot of the older Order members were assigned to take care of safehouses with students. The rest who are experienced, and Aurors who left the Ministry, have been sent on missions."
Hermione gripped her wand a little too tight. "Why weren't we given a chance? Harry has a connection with You-Know-Who, he could have helped. We knew what we were signing up for when we left school. Keep everyone else safe, yes, but you should have utilised us."
"I gave you a chance, Miss Granger. I sent you to go send the first message to the Death Eaters to see if you could obey commands. However, your show of burning down Malfoy Manor proved that neither of you were ready to come back. Your extremities will harm more people than good."
Harry held a hand up, "Wait, what? You're who burnt down Malfoy Manor?! How come you never told me anything?"
"It's not important now," Hermione said, ignoring his protests. "Professor, the manor deserved to be destroyed. If anything the message was a lot stronger, and gave the Order the lead that we needed."
"We needed to stick to our plan. Now Miss Lestrange has been searching the entire nation trying to find you, and should she do so, I cannot protect you unless you stay inside this farm."
"It's too late now. We cannot stay here knowing what is going on."
"You have no choice-"
Before the professor could finish her sentence, Hermione stunned her. It was fast with a flick of her wrist so sharp that it stung. McGonagall stiffened like ice and fell to the floor with a gentle thud.
Harry was also frozen, but more so out of shock.
"Sorry," said Hermione. "I had to. She was going to find a way to drag us back in there."
"No you're right. Just seeing a bit of Slytherin rubbing off on you, that's all. You didn't even let her finish."
"We've heard all we need. Come on," she held out her hand. "We've got to go. We're already late."
Harry took her hand and in an instant the two were being sucked through a tight rubber tube, twisting and pulling until they landed in a bush behind a bus stop on the other side of town. They both hurled over, dry retching upon arrival.
"Oh god," Harry groaned. "I did not miss that."
"Me either. It doesn't get any better, does it?"
"Not at all."
No one else was waiting when they rounded the bench and sat. Hermione rubbed her forehead in hopes that the nausea would pass at the friction. It didn't help, but she disguised them with new unrecognisable facial features anyway.
"So you going to tell me about this whole Malfoy Manor thing?" Harry asked with a bit of a nasty undertone.
"Harry, it was nothing. McGonagall sent me as a form of revenge on what Bellatrix did to me. She and Crabbe's father were meeting and I was told to knock her unconscious and pin a message to her robes. That's all."
"And the manor just happened to go up in flames?"
She sighed. "I burnt it down for a multitude of reasons. Mostly for myself."
"And not at all for Malfoy?"
"Maybe a little. It was very dramatic. He could appreciate the theatrics of it all."
"That I don't doubt. Did you tell him or did he find out when the rest of us did?"
An awkward clearing of her throat spoke for her. Harry almost choked on a laugh. "Right. Well, 'Mione if you ask me, you really have to work on your romantic gestures. Not every bloke is going to appreciate insurance payouts for gifts."
He bumped her shoulder, and she half heartedly smiled. "Don't worry. I think I'm settled on the one bloke for now."
"You sure? You could go for one's that aren't such knobheads. One that actually smiles once in a while."
"He smiles, and is far less of a knob than he used to be. You wouldn't sit down and play board games with him if he wasn't. In fact, I think I even heard you laughing at a comment he made about George's failed laundry attempt."
"You must have been delusional. I've never found Malfoy funny."
"Sure I was."
She bumped his shoulder this time, and as he swotted her away, the bus honked turning the corner.
"This us?" Harry asked.
Hermione stood and readjusted the bag over her shoulder. "This is us. It'll take us to Glasgow, then we'll catch another from the station."
They paid for their tickets and took the seats at the back. It was barely 6am and no one else had gotten on before them. Harry told her that she could sleep if she wanted, but Hermione couldn't bear thinking about what she'd dream of even if she tried. Staring out the window and reading the books she'd packed was all she managed to cope with.
When her watch struck 8am, she knew that Draco would know that they'd left by now. As would the whole house. Perhaps McGonagall might have even woken every one up once she'd been lifted from her stunning. The whole Order might be collapsing for all they knew.
Harry caved around about then, falling asleep on her shoulder. No one seemed to recognise them as people got on and off the bus. She woke him when they'd arrived in Glasgow.
It took the whole day of buses and various disguises to get to Gloucestershire. To lighten up the mood Harry had pretended to have different accents on each bus when he spoke to the driver. Something he might have learnt from spending time with the twins, actually enjoying life while you're saving the world.
He was good at the Irish accent, but awful at the American. Hermione spoke in Italian to a lady that served them sandwiches at a station cafe which left Harry's jaw hanging. Mind you it was very broken Italian and only about six words, but both of them were as delighted as anything.
"Since when were you bilingual," Harry asked mid chew. "How many languages can you actually speak?"
"One and a half. I was taught in primary school and tried independent study during the summer holidays at Hogwarts, though I wouldn't classify myself as fluent."
"Still better than me."
The heaviness of their reality kicked in when they tried to stop at a motel, however half of the building had been blown up. To any muggle it would appear as a normal act of crime, but Harry and Hermione could smell the reminiscents of Dark Magic that lingered behind. Death Eaters had been there.
They ended up camping on the outskirts of a piece of land that was backed up with forest, deciding to sleep off their travel before making any further plans.
Harry set up the tent while Hermione cast the illusion and protection charms.
"This feels wrong," she said as they sat on their respective cots. "Being back here. Doing all of this again."
"It's as if the battle never happened. I keep expecting Ron to walk in complaining that he's hungry any minute now."
"That or his bed needs a cushioning charm."
They smiled at one another then bowed their heads remembering their friend. "How are your legs holding up?" Hermione asked, smoothing the tension.
"Sore, but not very sore. They went numb when I fell asleep on the bus though. That one freaked me out, thinking that I was still paralysed."
"I bet it did."
Harry fluffed out his pillow, even though there was no point. "Hey, what was that thing back there with McGonagall where you asked if Snape was the Order's spy?"
"Oh. It was just a theory."
"He killed Dumbledore, Hermione. What made you think he could still be on our side?"
She shrugged, picking at her fingernails. "Just something I spoke to Draco about. How Dumbledore could have easily stopped everyone on that tower that night, but chose not to."
"He was weak from when we retrieved the locket."
"It's Dumbeldore though, Harry. Everything he did had a purpose. Wouldn't you think that maybe he might have allowed his death to have significance as well? To make a fake statement of Snape's loyalty?"
There was a lull of silence. The only sound filling the tent was the flicker of the flame lighting up the room. Harry cleared his throat and said he was going to brush his teeth, Hermione went back to reading.
They didn't talk much more that night, merely going over their plan for the next day, neither wanting to discuss touchy subjects. A lot can happen in a year, everything can change. Their friendship had changed along the way, too.
It wasn't as if they weren't as close as they used to be, if anything they were closer. But dynamics had changed. Their reliance had shifted to other people and their needs surpassed what the other person could provide.
Both of them knew that this wasn't going to be an easy mission, but they hoped it would be quick.
Hermione drifted in and out of sleep throughout the night. She'd dream of some strange reality where Neville had been living with them at the farm, not Dean, and then wake back up in a panic. Eventually her eyes would grow weary and she'd doze off again into another parallel universe where everything was wrong and nothing felt right.
Her cot was colder than it had been last year, or maybe she'd grown used to sleeping with an arm wrapped around her.
She begged herself not to imagine what Draco was doing. On one of the buses she'd thought about how Ophelia would have tried to comfort him and because he's such a physical touch person he might have given in to her caresses. After Harry caught a tear trying to escape, she vowed not to let Draco consume her on this journey anymore.
Consume.
After a poor sleep, she woke to the smell of Harry cooking bacon over a fire outside of the tent. He must have defrosted it from her bag.
"Better than the eggs we used to steal," he said, handing her a few pieces. "We can thank Malfoy for this at least."
"Yeah."
She didn't say anything else as an attempt to get him off her mind. Though she knew deep down it wouldn't work. He was constantly on her mind anyway.
"I think we should send a Patronus to Ginny, telling her that we're here," Harry said.
"It's too dangerous, someone else could be with her when she receives it."
"How else do you expect to find Slughorn? Knock on every door until we reach the right one?"
"Every safehouse would be warded with a Notice-Me-Not charm, there would be no point. What we need is to create a scene. One that can lure the Order out. Ginny said that Slughorn has been sneaking out at night, and my guess is that he isn't going to a pub feed. He's either volunteered to fight, or they're running out of people who have."
He wiped the grease off his mouth with the back of his sleeve. "Alright. What kind of scene are we talking?"
Later that evening after a fair amount of convincing, Harry and Hermione stood at the town centre nearby a water fountain. They'd run out of creative disguises by this point so they'd somehow landed on giving themselves pixie cut green and pink hair as a way to blend in with modern styles they'd seen on the bus. Although, by the complements they were receiving from school children, it seemed they weren't really blending in at all.
"We look ridiculous," Hermione grumbled. "People are staring."
"I reckon we look alright. No different than that band on the cover of that magazine someone left at the station."
"Case in point."
"Look no witch or wizard is going to be second guessing whether this was us or not if we look like punk muggles."
Rolling her eyes, she took her wand from her sock, "I suppose. Now keep a look out while I check to see if the owner of the store is still out back."
As discreetly as possible, Hermione hunched over and unlocked the store door. She slipped in, almost tripping over a welcome mat in the dark. Every room was empty, as was the storage area. Satisfied with knowing that no one was present, she made her way back to the front.
"Anything?" She asked, returning to the busy towns streets of Gloucestershire.
"No," Harry replied. "You?"
"All clear. That makes the whole block. I'd say we wait a few more minutes, and wait for a few more people to go home first."
"I'm starting to think that you're a—what's the word? The one where you're obsessed with lighting-"
"Paraphoneliac? Yes, yes, very funny. It's a coincidence, okay?"
He scoffed, "Not a coincidence if you choose to light two buildings on fire, 'Mione." She punched his arm and he pretended that it hurt. "I think the streets are as empty as they're going to get. Pubs don't close for another three hours."
"Alright. Let's get this over and done with then."
Sticking his hand into her purse to take out the invisibility cloak, Harry said, "Hey, this was your idea."
He swung the cloak around them both. "I know," she said. "I just hope these people enjoy getting insurance payouts for Easter."
Hermione needed to take five very concentrated breaths before she stuck the tip of her wand out of the gap in the material. They stood at the centre of a complex of five stores and it only took one circle and flick for the entire thing to erupt into flames. Even under the cloak, the heat of the fire was burning their skin.
"Fucking hell," Harry cried, covering his eyes as he backed them away. "Did you have to do it so strongly?"
She coughed trying to catch up with his long strides. "We have to make a big scene, Harry. Go behind the other building and I'll do the next step."
They scrambled to the other side of the street, into an alley and took the cloak off, not before checking that the coast was clear. People were yelling, screaming to call 999, too distracted to notice them hiding.
"This is your last chance to back out of this, are you sure you don't want me to do it?"
"I'm fine," Hermione assured him. "If they can somehow trace it, it's better if they trace it back to me and not you."
"Absolutely not. We drop the wand and run if we have to. Hurry before the emergency services put the fire out."
With shaky hands that reminded her of someone she shouldn't be thinking about, Hermoine raised her wand to the sky. Her voice trembled at first, but the second time she said the dark spell perfectly.
"Morsmordre!"
Green light shot out of the wand and into the sky. A skull appeared over the stars, and a great snake protruding from its mouth. The screams got louder and Hermione wanted to throw up at the sound.
The last time they'd seen this symbol was the night Dumbledore died at Snape's hand. Harry held her hair back as she spat in the alley. "It's okay, you know now one is hurt," he cooed. "Everyone is okay, they're just scared, that's all."
She pulled herself together, remembering that her feet are connected to the ground, and that all of this is for a greater outcome.
They wrapped themselves in the cloak again and ran back into the street. Sirens were piercing the air as emergency services arrived on the scene. Harry and Hermione watched as firefighters tackled the flames.
An audience formed. Some looking at the fire, others looking at the sky. One particular person caught Hermione's eye. They were wearing dress robes and had a fear in them that would only come from someone who knew what the mark in the sky meant.
"Harry, over there," she nudged him, pointing to the man. "He could be an ex-Auror."
"Should we talk to him?"
"No. Let's follow him for now, see if he meets anyone."
Follow him they did. The possible Auror panic walked down a number of streets, checking every corner before he turned until he stopped at a house that backed onto a field. It had a white fenced gate and a letter box that said 'no junk mail'.
He didn't walk through to the house, but waited on the path in front.
"That might be the safehouse," Harry whispered.
"Not likely," replied Hermione. "If we can see it, it's not a safehouse. It might split open like Grimmauld Place, though."
As the words came out of her mouth, the ground beneath them shook. Where the field once laid behind the house, a second house began to spurt like a plant, up from the soil and towering over to reveal three more stories. The first house barely stood as a foyer for the second.
"Well, that's new."
"Look Harry, someone's coming."
A shadow appeared through the fogged yellow glass of the front door. Stepping out was Horace Slughorn, looking skittish beyond paranoia. He closed the door behind him and met the Auror by the gate. Harry and Hermione stayed covered under the cloak within ear shot.
"What is it? What do you want?" Slughorn hissed.
The Auror puffed his chest out as if to suck in the confidence he needed to say, "There's been an attack, Horace. In the town square. I've sent a patronus to McGonagall and she's on her way now. The Death Eaters—they knew you're here."
Slughorn gulped, almost how they do in children's movies. "Right. Right. Yes, right," he repeated. "How do we know?"
Pointing to the sky, the Auror showed the last remaining glimmer of the Dark Mark symbol floating on the other side of town. A cat ran down the street, slowing to a gallop before transforming back into its human form.
"Professor McGonagall," the Auror let out a sigh of relief. "Thank Merlin you're here."
"What do we know?" She said, jumping to the point.
"Fire in the town, burnt down five buildings, but I don't think there are any casualties. Perhaps it is a warning."
"Death Eaters don't do warnings, Hutcherson. Horace, have you seen anything suspicious as of late? Anything during supply trips? Someone who might recognise you?"
Slughorn lifted his trousers by the belt, "No, Professor. Nothing at all. Not even during that last raid I did."
"And the children, they are alright?"
"Not a spot on them."
McGonagall looked to the sky and cast some sort of spell that Hermione did not recognise to wash away the Dark Mark. Clouds swept over the green and floated away to reveal a brand new starry night sky.
"You'll have to forgive my tardiness for not arriving sooner, Hutcherson. It appears that what we feared the most has come to be."
Slughorn's knee buckled. "He can't of. He could barely walk."
"I should have known better than to house him with Miss Granger. They figured out that the potions were poison and ran this morning."
"Who?" Hutcherson asked, clearly a little behind.
"Mr Potter, Miss Granger and, most recently, Mr Malfoy."
As a reflex, Hermione clutched her fingers around Harry's wrist. The watch she wore slid down and hit the back of her hand. So did her heart to her stomach.
Internally, she abused herself for not thinking he wouldn't run off the second she disappeared. God knows where he was now, no magic, no resources, nothing. He'd have no clue that they were in Gloucestershire.
She backtracked, asking why didn't she just run off to Australia with him when she had the chance?
Harry squeezed her arm twice, bringing her back to reality. "He'll be alright. You know he will," he whispered into her ear. Hermione's throat hurt from holding back a scream. Her back teeth cracked from how tightly she was clenching.
"Where do you believe they might be?" Slughorn asked.
"Mr Potter and Miss Granger could be anywhere. I have spent the day warning the other safehouses of the news, asking them to alert me should they try and gather information. Conveniently, this was my final destination. Miss Weasley is here, Horace, make sure to keep a close eye on her."
"I shall. She hasn't shown any change of behaviour today. I doubt she knows."
"And she won't. Hutcherson, tell the other Aurors of Mr Potter's disappearance but ensure that it is not made public. Horace, we will need to place more wards over this safehouse. Whatever is not on it, place it on."
"What about the meeting tonight? Am I still needed?"
McGonagall thought on it for a moment, then said, "We will continue with our plans for the remainder of the week. Mr Potter and Miss Granger are clever. They will find us, and when they do, we need to be prepared. For now, yes, you will still be needed at the meeting tonight, Horace."
With that, McGonagall bid them good luck and goodbye. Hutcherson returned to the fire while Slughorn walked back into the house. The back three stories sank back into the ground.
Hermione ripped the cloak of her head. "I can't believe I could be so idiotic!" She whisper yelled. "Of course he would bloody well run off. Of course he would try and find us. Bloody Slytherin, he's too fucking loyal, and more of a fucking hero that he needs to be!"
Harry admired her outburst in awe. She pointed and poked at his chest. "Why didn't you let me bring him along? He would have been much better holding our bags while we fought rather than travelling the countryside trying to find us!"
"I don't think he's trying to find me."
One more poke to the chest and he cowered away. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm done making fun. Look, Hermione, it's Malfoy. The prick somehow survived being a Death Eater despite failing his one task that You-Know-Who gave him. He'll be okay."
"He has no magic, Harry."
"It might have come back, you don't know."
Hermione growled and clawed her fingers. She was unsatisfied with how it felt to clench onto pixie hair so she removed her disguise and then pulled on the roots of her familiar curls. She even went so far to kick a loose pebble on the pavement.
Harry went and sat down at an idle wall, and waited until she was done with her hissy fit before tapping on the pavement inviting her to join him. With an exaggerated puff of air, Hermione slid down the wall and covered them back into the invisibility cloak.
"How long do you think until Slughorn comes out?" Harry asked as he rummaged through her purse for a muesli bar.
"At least until midnight."
"What's the time now?"
She looked down at Draco's watch, and traced the snaking carving once more. "9:12pm."
"We're in for a long wait then."
Hermione looked up at the foyer of the safehouse and realised how devastating it must be for Harry to be within arms reach of Ginny, and not be able to see her. They could easily sneak in while Slughorn was out, but neither of them had even thought of that as an option.
The less people involved, the better.
"I'm sorry you cannot see her, Harry. I know you miss her."
"It's alright," he sighed. "I'll get all the time in the world to see her once this is over."
That statement felt like a knife being stabbed and twisted into Hermione's gut. She hated knowing what she knew. She actually hated being intelligent for once.
Slughorn did not come out until 1am. People living in the safehouse must not feel when the house moves, same as how you wouldn't at Grimmauld. The ground shook and none of the neighbours came out to see what could be causing their windchimes to rattle. The dogs didn't bark, either.
They followed him to the end of the street, which led to a playground that had squeaky play equipment and damp benches. Slughorn went straight for the swing, tipping the seat upside down and reading a piece of parchment stuck to the bottom. Then immediately, he appareted away.
"Shit," Harry cursed, "What does that parchment say?"
They scurried over under the cloak and read the paper. It wrote: SHELL COTTAGE
"What do you think? Battleground or meeting place?" He asked.
"It has to be a meeting place. McGonagall told Slughorn to go to the meeting tonight. They might give him instructions on a mission from there. I can apparate us, but Harry it's a long distance. There's a risk we could splinch."
He took her hand without hesitation, "A risk I'm willing to take."
Using all of the focus she could muster together, Hermione transported them to the beach of Shell Cottage. They landed in knee deep water.
Caring little for the invisibility cloak at this point, they stuffed it back into the bag and sprinted to the cottage. A window was glowing from candle light, and at least five people seemed to be standing around a table. They pressed themselves against the walls and listened to the conversation.
"We have been through Manchester before and there was nothing," a female voice said. Most likely another auror.
"Yes but there were far too many Death Eater sightings for them not to leave a trail. Something or someone is in Manchester. My bet is that it's either Lestrange or You-Know-Who himself."
That person sounded familiar, but Hermione couldn't quite put her finger on who it was.
"Let's not focus on Manchester. McGonagall said that there is a possible Death Eater hide out in Little Hangleton. Her spy said that they heard discussions of the snake being moved there for a week."
"We cannot trust this spy! How do we know that there even is a spy at all?!"
"Enough!" A booming voice bellowed. This one Hermione could recognise. Aberforth. "We'll get nowhere if you lot keep squabbling on like children. Our mission is Hangleton. That is where we go."
"When?" Slughorn asked.
"Saturday. Before dawn. We will meet here after midnight as usual. Understood?"
A communal hum set the agreement. "There will be a team of six," the female Auror stated. "Wood, you'll be leading the charge this round."
"Roger that."
Hermione recognised the familiar voice to be that of Oliver Wood now. He was only slightly older than the twins, it was a wonder why he wasn't placed in a safehouse as well.
"Right, that's enough for tonight," said Aberforth. "Go back to your houses. Bill, Fleur, thank you for your hospitality once again."
The eldest Weasley sounded sad, "Anytime."
People started exiting the home and apparated on the coast. Harry and Hermione snuck around the back of the cottage and waited until everyone was gone, and the candles were blown out inside.
When they were in the clear, they hiked over hills until they found flat ground. Neither saying a word, still trying to process the night. Hermione had yet to get over the screams from the fire.
She set up tent this time while he warded the area. They ate leftover bacon with bread for dinner.
Eventually, Hermione broke the silence, "What do you want to do? Stay here until Saturday?"
"We could go to Little Hangleton. Find out if the snake is already there."
"It would be worth a visit. If there is nothing we can come back and wait for the mission."
"Yeah alright."
Chewing on the bacon slowly, Hermione found it funny how even on the run, she still found it difficult to eat a meal in front of her best friend. Then she found it less funny when she thought about the idea of eating the muesli bars in the purse in one sitting. All five of them.
Harry offered to do the first shift of watch, but she said that she wouldn't be able to sleep after the whole Dark Mark scene anyway. He understood and left her to her thoughts.
Sitting in between the tall grass, she stared up at the night sky and listened to the waves crashing against the shore. If there was a God out there, she prayed to all of them that wherever Draco was, that he was safe, and that if he ever found his way back to her, she'd never curse again.
Just when her need for sleep started to take over her anxiety ridden thoughts, a glowing ball of light floated towards their campsite. Hermione stood from her seat, squinting, trying to figure out if it was a Patronus or not. Her wand nearly snapped from how tight she was gripping it.
The glowing ball danced, jumping from side to side to side.
Her heart thudded against her chest. She couldn't think of a single spell that could help in this situation. Their silhouette was all that she could see, a male by the looks, and stocky.
As they stepped closer, Hermione second guessed how good Harry's illusion charm skills were.
And then, as a cloud moved away from the moon, their face came into focus.
She gasped, holding her fingertips to her mouth. Without permission her feet ran as fast as they could, crossing the boundary and every sparkle of safety it provided. She ran until she remembered that in the wizarding world, not everyone is who they say they are.
"Hermione?"
"You're supposed to be dead."
"Says who?"
"I need to ask you a question to know that it's really you."
They frowned, blinking rapidly with confusion but went along with it anyway. "Okay."
"First year, how many points were you rewarded that helped Gryffindor win the House Cup?"
"Oh that's easy. Ten."
Her breath shuddered. "Oh my god, Neville."
