Save Rock and Roll

by Fall Out Boy feat. Elton John

"I need more dreams

and less life

I need that dark

in a little more light

I cried tears you'll never see

So fuck you, you can go cry me an ocean

And leave me be"

Chapter Two

Hermione appeared underneath the apparition point a few blocks away from Ollivander's. She glanced with her around the street and walked across the cracked cobblestones of Diagon Alley, heading north. She fixed the worn cloak she wore more tightly around her thin frame, noting that the streets were mostly empty. People found that there were few reasons to risk going outside the safety of their houses. She stopped walking in front of Number 93, Diagon Alley. Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes had been subjected to a series of bombardas and in its wreckage, a flogging pole and executioner's block was hastily erected for those who dared defy the rule of the Dark Lord.

It's fortunate that George refused to step anywhere near Diagon Alley, Hermione thought. His already broken heart would be crushed at seeing that the dream he had built with Fred is reduced to nothing but rubble.

Hermione forced herself to focus on the task at hand. She quickened her pace towards the Apothecary, a shop that remained open due to necessity. She needed to get a few dozen vials of Salamander Blood and Infusion of Wormwood. Hermione would often use brewing ingredients available from their depleting potions storeroom in Hogwarts or she would accompany Luna to forage in the Forbidden Forest, but Hermione felt that a few stolen minutes outside the wards would do her some good. The Apothecary was closer to the Leaky Cauldron, and it would have been easier for her to apparate there, but the entrance to Diagon Alley from the muggle world was sealed and guarded. Nobody got in or out of the muggle world without prior approval from the Ministry.

The streets were empty except for a young mother trying to hush her toddler. In the bend that leads to Knockturn Alley, there was an abandoned building covered in peeling yellow posters. Even without looking closely, Hermione already knew what the posters were. Most were propaganda against members of the resistance and some were decrees promulgated by the current administration. Others were photos of members of the Order of the Phoenix, labeled as Undesirables.

The day after the Lost Battle, the Daily Prophet announced the death of Harry Potter. They claimed that they caught him trying to escape the battle. Hermione carried the sting of her best friend's death in her heart. She understood Harry's sacrifice after they had found Severus Snape's memories in the Pensieve. Harry had given himself up to get rid of the piece of Voldemort's soul that had lived inside him. They only had to kill Voldemort, but with Death Eaters at his disposal, a hundred supporters, and the fact that the monster was the most powerful wizard of their era made the already difficult objective impossible. The Dark Side had spent the last five months celebrating their victory with galas and entertained themselves by making a sport of killing muggle-borns.

The Muggle-Born Registration Commission was granted unlimited power and discretion to effectively carry out their policies now that Dolores Umbridge was the newly appointed Minister of Magic. Hermione felt disgusted at the thought that Voldemort did not even need to cast the imperius on Umbridge. She was all too eager to step into power as Voldemort's willing puppet. It did not even matter that she was not the pure-blood she had claimed to be. Voldemort had no interest in killing half-bloods. Only mudbloods and the remaining members of the Order of the Phoenix. Hermione scratched at her left arm covered by her cloak.

Under Umbridge's administration, all the muggle-borns were rounded up, declared guilty of stealing magic from witches and wizards, and were made to fight for entertainment in an arena built in Dartmoor where the last Quidditch World Cup was held. The same location where the Dark Mark reappeared for the first time since the 31st of October in 1981. "The games serve as a reminder of what befalls those who violate the law of a new era. The era where magic is might", Umbridge had said as she preened under the gaze of Voldemort supporters.

The Law of Voldemort and the era of darkness.

Hermione consciously patted her face to make sure that her glamour charms were still working as she passed by one of the yellow posters.

UNDESIRABLE NO. 1

HERMIONE JEAN GRANGER

Under the light that filtered through the boarded-up windows of Hog's Head, Hermione could see Ariana Dumbledore disappear out of sight from her portrait. Immediately after the Hogwarts wards were completed, Ron and George had rushed to destroy and seal up all the secret passages that led out of Hogwarts. The only passage remaining is Ariana's portrait in the Room of Requirement. The passageway would only work as long as someone in the Room would open the passage and fetch the person on the other end.

While waiting, Hermione thought of the months following Harry's death. After weeks of licking their wounds behind the safety of the wards, the Order of the Phoenix started to operate once more under the direction of Kingsley Shaklebolt and Minerva McGonagall. The Order's first agenda, after inducting members of Dumbledore's Army who were of age to formally join the Order of the Phoenix, was to go out on short missions. They started with mediocre objectives such as restoring their depleting provisions and gathering news about what was happening in Wizarding Britain. Eventually, their goals expanded to doing whatever they can to rescue muggle-borns on the run. Now, Hogwarts served not only as the permanent home and headquarters for the members of the Order, but it also served as a sort of refugee camp for both muggle-borns and enemies of the Dark Side.

Hermione caught her reflection on a mirror hanging by the counter. She removed her cloak and, with a sharp flick of her hand, canceled her glamour charms. She watched as her reflection as the glamoured straight black hair lightened and thickened into a familiar mass of riotous brown curls that reached the middle of her back. Her skin was pale and pallid. Her eyes fell to the thin scar on her throat and the ugly scar she bore on her arm.

MUDBLOOD.

She averted her eyes and turned away from the mirror. Who cares about scars when your best friend and the people you care for are dead, Hermione silently chided herself.

The portrait swung open and Ron stepped out. His fiery red hair was bright against the dreary faded colors of the abandoned pub, blue eyes sharp as they landed on Hermione. Despite sharing a passionate kiss in the Chamber of Secrets, when they were high from their emotions after destroying Helga Hufflepuff's Cup, Hermione and Ron decided not to pursue a romantic relationship. They had comforted in each other while they mourned for Harry's death and they had tried being together one lonely night when the absence of their best friend and the looming threat over their heads felt heavier than most days, but they quickly realized that although they cared for each other very much, their love was more familial than romantic.

Ron pointed his wand at Hermione, "In our first year, Professor McGonagall magically transfigured a giant chessboard to protect Philosopher's Stone. What chess piece did you play?"

"I was a rook. Harry was a bishop and you were a knight, Ron." Hermione raised her wand, ready to pose her security question to him. "We argued after Harry told us he kissed Cho, what did I say to you?"

Ron rolled his eyes at Hermione's grin and lowered his wand, "You said I had the emotional range of a teaspoon, 'Mione."

They stepped through the portrait hole and started walking their way to Hogwarts.

"Did you get what you need?" Ron asked. "Kingsley wasn't pleased when he heard that you ventured out again."

"Yes, I bought everything we needed from the Apothecary." Hermione huffed, "Kingsley shouldn't keep me cooped up in Hogwarts. He lets you and Neville go out on missions! He even approved Ginny's request to join the rescue at St. Mungo's! Everyone knows I am more than capable of handling myself yet he won't even consider my requests."

The redhead rubbed his neck, shooting Hermione a sympathetic look. "It isn't about you being incapable of handing yourself, you know. The Ministry wants all muggle-borns punished. You're Undesirable No. 1 now, the muggle-born best friend of Harry Potter…" Ron trailed off at the mention of their best friend's name. His death weighed down on them.

Hermione sighed. "I know." It wasn't like Hermione did not understand. She did. She was just frustrated at everything that was happening. "It's not in my nature to stand by and watch the people I care for fight for our cause." My cause. Hermione thought bitterly. I want to fight not only because it's the right thing to do, but also because it's people like me that are being targeted. Muggle-borns. "I feel like I'm not doing enough to help, Ron."

"You know that's not true, 'Mione. The Order has got you researching for old magic that might help us."

"It's been months, Ronald, and I haven't found any old magic that might help us," Hermione said, exasperated, as she swiped at a stray curl that found its way wrapped around her neck.

They climbed out of the tunnel and into the Room of Requirement where Ginny stood waiting for them. She was dressed in her dueling attire. A black long-sleeved shirt tucked into sturdy pants. Her hair was braided down her back and a wand holster was strapped to her shoulder.

After two weeks of comforting each other for their losses, Ginny and Hermione had handled grief by throwing themselves into dueling practice and training together as they learned magic beyond NEWT level under Remus' guidance. When the former Defense against the Dark Arts Professor declared that they had taught them everything he knew, they practiced their spell work under Professor McGonagall's strict eye. Even Bill Weasley, who split his time between Hogwarts and Shell Cottage, which was thankfully still under the protection of the Fidelius Charm, had joined them in one of their training sessions and eventually taught them the basics of curse-breaking.

When Kinglsey denied Hermione's request to join missions but approved Ginny's, Hermione, with her hair crackling with magic, blasted the doors of the Great Hall where lunch was being held. She had stormed towards Kingsley and the older members of the Order. She demanded why her request was rejected despite her and Ginny undergoing the same level of training.

She had thrown in their faces that she was probably even more qualified than the others who went on missions because of her grades in Hogwarts. She had faced basilisks, werewolves, and escaped Azkaban prisoners. She had survived the Battle of the Department of Mysteries with only a purple scar from Dolohov's wand as a souvenir. She had been on the run from Death Eaters and she had infiltrated the Ministry. She survived being tortured and carved into by a madwoman, she had destroyed Horcruxes, and she flew on the back of a bloody dragon as she escaped Gringotts!

AND! I am the Brightest Witch of My Age! Hermione had spat. Her fingers left burns on the table she had slapped her hands against while she was on her tirade. In retrospect, she might have been just a tad bit dramatic.

Professor McGonagalls' mouth had stretched into a thin line. Remus had to hide his laughter behind his fist. Beside him, Tonks had stared at Hermione in admiration, changing her hair color into dark brown as it exploded into a mass of curls. Molly looked at Hermione disapprovingly. Ron was muttering something along the lines of "I rode on the dragon too." George, who had not interacted with anyone outside of Ron since Fred's death, started clapping.

Kingsley looked amused when the cups on the table he was sitting on abruptly turned into yellow canaries when he rejected Hermione's request again.

He looked even more amused when Ron toppled over his chair at the mere sight of the yellow canaries.

The night after Hermione's outburst, after making sure that she was level-headed and no longer on the brink of murder, Kingsley had summoned Hermione. He had explained to her that it would be too dangerous for Hermione to go out considering that a substantial bounty was on her head as the Undesirable No. 1 and as a muggle-born. Hermione had reluctantly agreed that she would train under Madam Pomfrey to learn more healing magic and do confidential research work for the Order instead.

"Ron. Hermione." Ginny greeted, flashing a brilliant smile.

Hermione hugged the girl who was like a sister to her. "Ginny! You're back!"

Ginny punched Ron on the shoulder as he approached them. "Hi to you too." Ron grinned, ruffling the top of her hair. "Where's Luna? I told her to wait for me here while I went to get Hermione.

Hermione let go of her friend. "How was the stakeout at one of the Death Eater's place?"

The smile on Ginny's face fell as her expression turned somber. "They'll explain in the meeting. Luna's already down at the Great Hall. We're waiting for you before we begin."

"Meeting? There's no scheduled meeting today." Hermione raised a brow.

"It's an emergency meeting."

"What do you mean you want to go and meet up with a bloody Death Eater?" Charlie Weasley demanded. Seamus Finnigan nodded in agreement vehemently. Hermione sat between Ginny and Luna. The latter was twirling a strand of hair on her finger as she gazed at the Order leader with a dreamy expression.

Kingsley stared at the members of the Order with his dark, observant eyes. The Order had erupted into various bouts of emotion. Kingsley observed their faces. Most faces expressed anger, some expressed confusion. A few eyes shined with hope.

"That isn't what I meant at all." Despite Kingsley's calm and controlled demeanor, Hermione knew that what lies beneath is a powerful and formidable wizard with quiet fury. An experienced fighter, trained by Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody himself. "What I was saying, Mr. Weasley, was that I have been meeting up with someone who has access to information regarding the comings and goings of Death Eaters."

"Is he a Death Eater?" Cho Chang asked.

Kingsley answered the question, "If you are asking if he has the Dark Mark branded on his arm, then yes, Ms. Chang. He is a Death Eater. If you are asking if he is loyal to Voldemort and shares the same views regarding muggle-borns and pureblood supremacy, then no. He is not a Death Eater."

Confusion erupted among the members of the Order once more.

Hermione raised her hand and voiced her concern over the loud indignant chatter of her friends, "How do you know that he doesn't support Voldemort?"

"Good question, Ms. Granger." Kingsley nodded in approval. "Our first few attempts to venture out of wards, as many of you remember, resulted in nothing but injuries and failed missions. Our continued success in the rescue attempts began when this Death Eater gave us their patrol schedules and the locations of possible muggle-borns."

"When Minerva, Remus, Nymphadora, and I were out on our first attempt to rescue muggle-borns on the run, we encountered a Death Eater in the forest where they were preparing a middle-aged muggle-born woman and her 5-year-old daughter, to prepare her to travel with them on broom."

"We would have attacked him on the spot," McGonagall said, shaking her head. "It's a good thing, Remus was there with his werewolf senses."

Remus blushed. Scratching his scarred face self-consciously as he always did when anyone mentioned anything about his canine abilities, "I smelled the soup coming from the wrapped parcel he held in his hands."

"He was providing food for the woman and her daughter," Luna concluded for them and cocked her head. "Wasn't he?"

"Yes."

Charlie, calmer now although still confused, asked, "So you just believed him?

"I'm a good judge of character," Kingsley responded seriously. At the sharp looks he received, he cracked a smile sheepishly, "We offered him the opportunity to spy for us after Minerva and I took turns performing legilimency on him. It took a while, he was a good occlumens."

"Which is a good thing, isn't it?" Ron said. "I mean, Snape had to be one bloody good occlumens to conceal his true loyalties from Voldemort when he was spying for us." Hermione glanced at Ron who sat across her with his hands curled into tight fists. They both knew what Snape had to do in order to protect Harry, and by extension, them. They may have despised what they knew of the man when he was alive, but they both respected and recognized the secret role he played.

"Why are you telling us now?" Hermione asked, her eyes calculating, "You said he was already helping us with our missions by giving us information. Apparently, it was working. Why do we need to know about him now?"

Kinglsey exchanged a glance with McGonagall before continuing, "He contacted us yesterday with new information. He's being promoted."

"Promoted?" Seamus Finnigan said in disgust.

"He was merely a foot soldier when we had our first encounter. Now, Voldemort seems to be promoting more and more Death Eaters he trusts."

"Why?"

"More than just giving us schedules and raid dates, he has now agreed to provide essential information that might help us defeat Voldemort," Kingsley said.

There were fewer angry and confused faces. Hope bubbled up in Hermione's throat. A chance to defeat Voldemort. She looked at Ginny who had gasped. After all the time they spent together training and dueling. Hermione knew that what drove Ginny to become the duelist she was now, what her burning passion to avenge Harry Potter.

"At a price."

A price. Of course, how very Slytherin of them.

"When the final result is expected to be a compromise, it is often prudent to start from an extreme position."

― John Maynard Keynes, The Economic Consequences of the Peace