It was a strange time. It all seems like one giant blur to me. I can remember certain moments, big moments. But everything else...it's just a blur. All I can remember is how I felt. I was afraid, I was uncertain, I was depressed, I was lonely. The feelings are my memories. I can remember the rare moments when I felt joy. Or the times when I felt utterly hopeless. I can remember the feelings.
Yes, it was a strange time.
Hermione slammed the book shut with a sigh of frustration.
"I can't do this," she whispered, letting her head fall into her hands.
She'd been through every possible option in her mind, thinking and rethinking it through. There was no other way. Absolutely no other way.
Getting up from her chair, she walked over to the bookshelf and took the lone picture frame into her hands, staring at it for several seconds.
"I'm sorry," she said finally, looking into her parent's faces. "I'm so sorry."
She'd never felt more guilty in her entire life. And it was so utterly painful. How could she do it? How could she look into their eyes? Their eyes that were so filled with love. Eyes that trusted her and knew her better than anyone.
There was a fearful knot in the pit of her stomach that had been growing for the past couple of days. And it twisted with immense discomfort every time she contemplated all that could go wrong.
What if she couldn't bring them back? What if she couldn't reverse the charm? What if she lost them forever? What then? What then?
Closing her eyes, she placed the photograph on top of her heart and took a deep breath in.
She had to do it. It was the only way she could be certain they were safe. And right now, their safety meant more than her guilt and fear. It meant more than the ache inside her chest and the love inside her heart. It meant more than the comfort of her mother's scent and the warmth of her father's embrace.
It meant more than seventeen years worth of memories.
After today, she could be alone forever. There was no way of knowing...all she could do was hope.
Hermione sat there for some time crying silent tears, but in the end she found small comfort in the fact that no matter what happened, they would remain alive. Voldemort wouldn't get to them.
That thought alone empowered her. It filled her up and gave her the strength she so desperately needed.
They'll be alive. They'll be alive. And I will bring them back home.
She placed the photograph deep within the confines of her bag, along with any and every book she might possibly need. Taking one final glance around the room, she searched for anything of value to pack with her.
Her eyes rested on the familiar snow globe on her shelf and just like that, tears started spilling rapidly down her cheeks again.
She walked over to it slowly, and held it in her hands, thinking of all the times this small object had brought her comfort.
Her mind travelled back to the last conversation she and her mother had during the winter holiday.
'I want to know that it will always be here waiting for me. That it'll always be home.'
"And it will be," Hermione stated determinedly. "I will come back for you."
And with that, she placed the globe back on the shelf, before taking one last look around and exiting the room behind her.
Her parents were downstairs in the sitting room.
She could just make out the gentle hum of the television mixed in with pleasant midday conversation.
Her mother was pouring tea.
Her father was reading the paper.
Everything was as it should be.
As Hermione stood there in the shadows of the corridor, she could feel her heart beating madly inside her chest. She swore it might explode if she deliberated one moment longer.
So, trying desperately not to think of all that might go wrong, Hermione shakily brought her wand up, aiming directly at her parents' backs.
And with an uncomfortable feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach, she whispered the incantation.
She waited.
Alone in the empty house, she waited.
Her parents were long gone now. They were gone and they were safe. And with them, they took a piece of her heart.
Her head shot up at the sound of a loud crack in the back garden. She knew someone from the Order was coming to fetch her, she just didn't expect it to be so soon.
Wiping the tears quickly from her face, she walked over to the window, pulled the curtains back hesitantly and took a peak outside. She couldn't spot anyone at first, but then after a moment Mr. Weasley's Disillusionment Charm lifted.
"Hello, Hermione," he greeted her as she opened the door for him.
"Mr. Weasley," she smiled.
"What was the first Christmas present I ever received from you?"
"Batteries. Where did you meet my parents?" Hermione asked, feeling a slight pang in her chest.
"Flourish and Blotts," Mr. Weasley answered, confidently.
"Correct."
"Excellent! Shall we?" Mr. Weasley asked, proffering his arm to her. "I know you've passed your apparition test already, but I'd be much more content knowing you were with me."
"No problem," Hermione assured him. She took his arm, but not before turning to look back one more time at the house behind her.
Mr. Weasley, sensing her apprehension, squeezed her shoulder gently. "It's not goodbye…It's see you later."
Hermione looked up at him, eyes glistening, and nodded.
And together, they apparated to the Burrow.
"He's not going to let us do it."
"He doesn't have much a choice, Hermione," Lupin said, frowning. "Moody believes it's the only way."
"And when Moody wants something done, you'd best believe it's going to get done," Bill stated.
Hermione sighed, looking around at the table of witches and wizards in front of her. Order Headquarters had been temporarily moved to the Burrow, and as she and Ron were of age, they were allowed to attend meetings.
"All the imposters will be safe. The Death Eaters know they can't kill Harry, and they'll be in serious trouble if they do. It's the people flying with the imposters that will be in the greatest danger, but we're all fully prepared to take that risk." Bill declared.
"And this is all assuming the worst case scenario, of course," Lupin added. "We have no reason to doubt our sources. Voldemort and the Death Eaters remain ignorant of our plan."
Hermione nodded solemnly along with everyone else. She just couldn't believe how much had changed in such a short span of time. It felt like everything was moving too fast. And here they all were, discussing Harry's fate as if it were a matter of the weather.
She glanced over at Ron who had remained silent for most of the meeting. He looked about the same way she felt: nervous, fearful, and tense. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that out of everyone seated there at the table, she and Ron, alone, knew exactly what it would take to defeat Voldemort.
And they couldn't share that information with anyone.
"Be prepared to depart this evening," stated Lupin in a clear voice, rising from his chair. "So, if there are no more questions..."
There was silence around the table, and soon all the non-Weasley Order members said their farewells and left the small kitchen.
No one said anything for a moment until Mrs. Weasley stood up abruptly muttering something about starting dinner.
Hermione took real pity on the woman. Nearly her entire family was about to risk their lives tonight, and she silently prayed along with everyone else that there would be no casualties.
As everyone else got up to leave the kitchen table, she and Ron made their way upstairs to fill Ginny in on all that would transpire that evening.
Hermione knocked lightly on the door.
"Is it safe for me to come out now?" Ginny asked sardonically, poking her head through the doorway.
Not waiting for an answer, she let the both of them in.
"So? What's the plan?" Ginny asked, taking a seat on the ground.
Hermione and Ron followed suit and broke out into explanation of the meeting's events. When they were finished, Ginny had a bewildered expression plastered across her face.
"That sounds...complicated," she said. "Are you sure Harry's even going to go through with this? I mean...seven of him running around..."
"Mad-eye reckons it's the best plan we've got," Ron shrugged.
Ginny sighed. "I just can't wait until Harry's here and safe."
Ron cleared his throat slightly before addressing Ginny. "What ever happened between the two of you, anyway?" he asked uncertainly.
Hermione stared at Ginny.
The redhead looked away for a moment. "We broke up," she confirmed. "Well...he broke up with me."
"Hey," Ron said softly, "He's...he's got some things he has to deal with right now. But you know he cares about you, Gin."
Both girls looked at Ron for a moment, slightly taken aback. This softer, more sensitive side of him was something they had rarely ever witnessed before. Perhaps he really was maturing, Hermione pondered.
"Thanks, Ron," Ginny replied, bemused. Then all of a sudden she snapped her head back up to look at him. "Hold on! You've been reading that book, haven't you?"
"Book?" Hermione asked surprised, looking over at Ron. "What book?"
Ron suddenly turned a bright shade of red. "Er...erm...it's..."
Ginny snorted before turning to Hermione. "Fred and George gave it to him," she explained, rolling her eyes. "It's called: Twelve Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches."
Ron threw Ginny a murderous look, but she merely smiled back.
Hermione suddenly felt slightly uncomfortable.
Why would he want to read a book like that?
Ooh, tough one, her mind bit back, sarcastically.
No...it can't be because of...no ,you're wrong.
Whatever you say.
She quickly buried these thoughts in the back of her mind, where she hoped she wouldn't have to extract them again.
"Everyone ready?" growled Moody.
Hermione gripped the invisible Thestral tighter for good measure, and nodded along with everyone else. She was secretly quite relieved that she didn't have to ride a broomstick for the long journey they were about to embark on. Flying was never one of her strong suits. And despite the fact that she couldn't see the Thestral beneath her, it still felt safer than a thin piece of wood.
The fear of plummeting to her death finally wore off after about the first half hour of flying, but it did nothing to loosen the strong hold she still had on the creature's mane. And after another half hour, her knuckles were starting to grow quite sore.
Finally, after what seemed like a lifetime, they started their descent.
Once they landed in the back garden of number 4 Privet Drive, Hermione could feel her Disillusionment Charm start to wear off. Hopping off her Thestral carefully, she'd never been happier for her feet to meet the ground.
Taking in her surroundings, she saw the back door being quickly wrenched open as Harry hurtled into their midst.
Hermione couldn't remember ever being more delighted to see him. Perhaps it was because she hadn't seen him in nearly a month. Or maybe because they were one step closer to bringing him to the safety of the Burrow. Or it could have just been the mere fact his smile seemed to light up the darkened atmosphere around them. Whatever the reason, Hermione immediately ran and flung her arms around his neck.
Merlin, she'd missed him.
"All righ', Harry? Ready fer the off?" Hagrid said, as Hermione finally let go.
"Definitely," said Harry, beaming around at them all. "But I wasn't expecting this many of you!"
Hermione and Ron exchanged a quick look.
"No!" Harry said loudly, when Mad-Eye explained the plan to him. "No way!"
"I told them you'd take it like this," said Hermione, with a look of complacency.
"If you think I'm going to let six people risk their lives—!"
"—because it's the first time for all of us," said Ron.
"This is different. Pretending to be me—"
"Well, none of us really fancy it, Harry," said Fred earnestly. "Imagine if something went wrong and we were stuck as specky, scrawny gits forever."
Hermione laughed quietly at this, but quickly sobered up upon seeing the look on Harry's face.
In the end, though, he was left with no choice but to cooperate. She was fairly certain Moody would have simply ripped the hairs off Harry's head, himself, if it had to come to that.
With all their eyes upon him, Harry reached up to the top of his head, grabbed a hank of hair, and pulled. When he dropped the hairs into the mudlike liquid, the potion began to froth and smoke, then, all at once, it turned a clear, bright gold.
"Ooh, you look much tastier than Crabbe and Goyle, Harry," said Hermione.
Oh Merlin...did I really just say that?
She immediately felt her cheeks burn as Harry looked at her, and she quickly amended her statement. "Oh, you know what I mean—Goyle's potion looked like bogies."
I should probably just shut up now.
Hermione had to admit, of all the strange things she had gone through in her life, this was by far one of the strangest.
Transforming into the body of the boy you fancy...well, it was just the slightest bit unnerving.
Okay, it was extremely unnerving.
Almost by reflex, Hermione pushed her hair out of her eyes, only to remember that it wasn't her hair. It was Harry's hair.
Harry's hair.
Oh my God...I just touched Harry's hair.
She hesitantly brought her hand up to her head again, before immediately bringing it back down.
Stop it. Now.
But it's so soft!
No.
Just one more time?
Absolutely not.
Hermione folded her arms so as not to give into the temptation. Biting her lip, she took in the scene around her.
WAIT, THAT'S NOT MY LIP.
I'm biting Harry's lip...
Oh my God, stop. Stop!
Hermione wanted to groan aloud in frustration. This was just too bizarre! In the end she let her arms hang loosely to her side, being very careful not to come into contact with any part of Harry's body.
Because, you know, that makes plenty of sense, Hermione thought, sarcastically.
She was finally able to relax a bit more once they had all taken off with their respective partners. Now, all she focused on was the journey ahead of her.
They had been travelling undisturbed for quite some time when she saw them. Up to five cloaked figures flying in their direction. Kingsley immediately spotted them as well.
"Stay close to me!" he exclaimed in his deep voice.
Hermione's heart was pounding in her ears. How did they find out? Could there really be a traitor among the Order?
She could see fury in Kingsley's eyes, but he maintained his composure, and without a second's thought he started firing at the oncoming Death Eaters.
"Stick to defensive spells!" he shouted at her. "I'll take care of them, just protect yourself!"
Hermione nodded obediently, and shot a quick Protego as one of the Death Eater's spells just nearly missed her. Again and again she put up a shield around her, ducking every which way from the oncoming attacks. Kingsley had quickly taken care of three of them, but the other two were still putting up a strong fight.
Beads of sweat were forming on her brow, and she wiped them away quickly. Her heart nearly leapt into her throat as she almost lost her balance on the creature beneath her, but she quickly regained her grip.
Looking back up, though, she nearly forgot how to breathe.
There he was.
Voldemort, himself.
And she could have sworn he looked straight into her eyes, into her very soul.
And in that moment, Hermione didn't know how she was going to survive. She would die. She would die right here with Kingsley.
She would die as Harry Potter.
Because that's what Voldemort wanted. He wanted Harry. And if that's what he wanted, that's what Hermione would give him.
She brought her wand down slowly, taking a deep breath in through her nose.
Kill me.
Closing her eyes, she waited for the impact.
Kill me!
What was he waiting for?
KILL ME.
"WATCH IT!"
She opened her eyes to see Kingsley throw himself in front her, and shoot out a shield charm just as an unknown spell bounced off them.
Hermione looked up to see that Voldemort was gone. "Where did he go?" she yelled out.
"I don't know," Kingsley shouted back. He threw one last spell at the remaining Death Eater and it hit him square in the chest, making him fall off his broom and plunge to darkness beneath them.
Kingsley was out of breath as he turned back to Hermione. "We have to fly away from here as fast as we can. There could be more of them."
She nodded quickly, her eyes wide and her pulse racing. Just a moment ago she was about an inch from death. And now, she was flying to safety.
She just prayed that everyone else was doing the same.
"I still can't believe Moody's gone," Hermione stated quietly, sitting on the floor of Ron's bedroom, and staring off into space.
"I know, who would have thought Mad-Eye would be the first to go..." Ron trailed off.
This was the first time in almost a week that any of the trio had been able to hold a conversation for more than ten minutes. Mrs. Weasley had made it her apparent goal to separate the three of them in the hopes that she could cut into their planning and make them stay home longer. But this, of course, was to no avail.
Despite the fact that Harry was currently helping Mr. Weasley clean out the chicken coup.
"Shouldn't you be cleaning as well?" Hermione reminded Ron, indicating the messy room around them.
"Yeah, yeah, I'll get to it," Ron muttered, flipping through a magazine.
"Well I sure hope so. I'd hate to see the look on your mum's face when—"
She was cut off by the sound of the door opening.
Ron immediately threw the magazine aside. "I'm doing it, I'm doing—! Oh, it's you," said Ron in relief, as Harry entered the room.
He took a seat on the bed next to Ron's.
"We were just talking about Mad-Eye," Ron told Harry. "You know, I reckon he might still be alive."
Both Harry and Hermione looked at him as if he were mad while he attempted to defend himself.
"Well, all right, if you want him to be dead," said Ron grumpily.
"Of course we don't want him to be dead!" said Hermione, looking shocked. "It's dreadful that he's dead! But we're being realistic!"
"The Death Eaters probably tidied up after themselves, that's why no one's found him," said Ron wisely.
Hermione really didn't want to think about this right now. It just felt wrong to discuss it so close to the man's death.
"Yeah," said Harry. "Like Barty Crouch, turned into a bone and buried in Hagrid's front garden. They probably transfigured Moody and stuffed him—"
"Don't!" exclaimed Hermione, suddenly feeling nauseous. She felt tears forming in her eyes, and she hastily wiped them away.
Harry looked startled. "Oh no," he said, struggling to get up from the old camp bed. "Hermione, I wasn't trying to upset—"
But before Harry could make his way over to her, someone else had already reached her side.
Hermione looked up, somewhat surprised to see Ron in front of her. He placed his arm hesitantly over her shoulders and procured a handkerchief from his pocket.
"Oh...thanks, Ron...I'm sorry..." she said, blowing her nose and feeling slightly embarrassed.
But he continued to comfort her, making her feel extremely bewildered in the process.
She looked up at Harry and saw amusement dancing in his green eyes. But she didn't feel amused in the slightest.
She appreciated Ron's concern, she really did. But she just felt...weird. Why was he treating her this way? Why did he suddenly seem to care so much about her feelings?
Because he fancies you.
And for once, Hermione didn't think she could provide an argument. Ron fancied her. Of that, she was now certain.
Her eyes flitted across the room to meet Harry's, and she felt her heart sink.
But I love you, her mind whispered, staring into the depth of his emerald eyes, and wishing hopelessly that he could somehow hear her thoughts.
Time was moving by unnaturally quickly, it seemed. It was already a day before Harry's birthday and two days before the wedding. Harry had made it quite adamant that he intended to leave as soon as the wedding was over. However, they still hadn't the faintest idea of where they would go. And this made Hermione extremely uneasy.
Mrs. Weasley had not given up hope on making them stay, and so continued to separate the trio if they so much as sat next to each other at the dinner table.
Hermione understood that the woman was just being protective, but she couldn't help but think that it was only causing them more trouble. Planning was of the essence.
A knock on Ginny's door interrupted Hermione's thoughts and she called for the person to enter.
Harry rushed in, closing the door quickly behind him.
"Thought I saw Mrs. Weasley," Harry said in answer to the questioning look on Hermione's face.
"How did you even escape? I thought she told you and Ron to de-gnome the garden?"
"Yeah, except we've already done it about five times this week. Gnomes tend to stay away after the third."
"Smart creatures," Hermione admitted. "So, where's Ron?"
"Intercepted by Fleur," Harry replied, simply. "What are you up to?"
Hermione was suddenly very conscious of the fact that she was alone with Harry for possibly the first time all summer.
She was also very conscious of the fact that he looked incredibly handsome casually leaning against Ginny's bedpost with his hands in his pockets. Yes, incredibly handsome, indeed.
Hermione cleared her throat, ridding these thoughts from her mind. "Erm...the usual. Just deciding what to bring with us."
"Oh," Harry said quietly, looking down at the ground for a moment. "Thank you, Hermione. I honestly don't know what I'd do without you."
Hermione smiled gently. "You don't have to thank me, Harry. I just want you to finally realize that you don't have to do this alone. We're here with you. It's our job as much as it is yours."
Harry nodded, mutely. But his eyes seemed to express the immense gratitude that he couldn't put into words.
"So," Hermione started, tearing her eyes away from him, "are you excited about your birthday?"
Harry chuckled softly, moving to sit down on the ground across from her. "Oh yeah, I'm practically bubbling over. Can't you tell?"
"Oh, come on. It's your seventeenth birthday! You should be excited," Hermione insisted.
"More relieved, really. I finally won't have to worry about Ministry officials coming after me because a house elf dropped a cake on someone's head or because I defended myself in a dark alley."
"Or because you blew up your aunt," Hermione added.
"You still haven't forgiven me for that, have you?" Harry said, raising an eyebrow.
"I just don't think it was a very responsible thing to do," Hermione said shrugging.
"Completely worth it though," he said, reminiscing with slight smile on his face.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "I suppose I can't really have an opinion on the matter since I've never met her," she conceded.
"Consider yourself lucky," he said.
"Well, I'm finished sorting through the books, no thanks to you," Hermione announced, getting up from her seated position to stretch her legs. "I just need a few more things...Do you have underpants in the wash?"
Harry's eyes instantly grew wide. "Sorry?"
"Never mind I'll just ask Mrs. Weasley," Hermione said to herself. "But then again...she'll probably start interrogating me. I'll just go look myself."
"Wha—?" Harry began, standing up clumsily.
"Is something wrong, Harry?" Hermione asked, concerned, finally noticing his discomfort.
"May I ask what you need with my...my stuff?" Harry managed to say.
"Well, you're going to need a clean pair for the road," Hermione said, as if stating the obvious.
Looking a little red in the face, Harry clapped in hands together. "Right, er, I will get those. You...you can take care of...of your things."
"Sure," Hermione replied, unperturbed.
Harry was about to exit the room when Hermione stopped him.
"Harry?" she called.
"Yeah?" he said, turning around.
"Everyone wears underpants," she said, trying and failing to fight back a smile.
"Would you like me to get yours as well while I'm down there, then?" Harry asked, innocently.
Hermione felt her face heat up, and she seemed to choke on her words before finally uttering a 'touché' and closing the door on his grinning face.
"Prat," Hermione muttered to herself, leaning her back against the door.
The effect was slightly muddled, however, by the fact that she couldn't wipe the small smile off her face.
"Ginny!"
"What?"
Hermione removed the towel that had just been haphazardly thrown on her head. "You're lucky I haven't done my hair yet," she glared, throwing it back on the girl's bed.
But Ginny didn't seem to hear her. "Where in Merlin's pants did my other heel go?" she demanded, throwing more stuff all over the room as she searched the ground.
"Oh for goodness sake!" Hermione exclaimed. "Accio Ginny's heel!"
Both girls looked around the room waiting for the item to appear, but nothing happened.
Then out of nowhere they heard a muffled "bloody hell!" from outside the doorway.
Hermione opened it up to peer into corridor, and saw Ron emerge from the loo with a gold heel whizzing just past his forehead.
"Thanks, Hermione!" Ginny said, catching it deftly in her hands.
"Ronald, for goodness sake, put a shirt on!" Mrs. Weasley yelled as she rushed past the three of them.
Ron turned a bright shade of red before darting back into the loo, while both girls returned to Ginny's bedroom, nearly getting run over by the twins in the process.
"We're doing pretty well for our first wedding, don't you think?" Ginny said, using her wand to curl her hair.
"Yeah..." Hermione commented meekly.
"I mean, no one's been injured yet. That's always an accomplishment..."
"Ginny, should you be using your wand for that?" Hermione said suddenly, noting the girl's use of underage magic.
"Oh God!" Ginny said, putting her wand down dramatically. "What's the Ministry going to think when they detect the use of magic in a pureblood wizard home?"
Hermione wasn't amused. "I'm just saying. It is illegal."
"I think I can live with that on my conscience. Would you like me to do your hair?"
Just then the door of the room swung open and Fred marched inside.
"Oh, come on in and make yourself at home," Ginny said sarcastically.
"Mum wants the seating charts, Gin Gin," Fred stated.
"Why the bloody hell would I have them?"
"She said they were with you last."
"What would I want with seating charts?" she exclaimed.
"So they're not with you?"
"No!"
And with that Fred marched back outside.
"I'll do my own hair by the way, thanks," Hermione said, in answer to Ginny's previous question.
"Suit yourself," the redhead shrugged.
"Have either of you seen Harry?"
Both girls turned their heads simultaneously to see Ron slipping his head through the doorway.
"Gee, I'm sure glad I didn't just have my shirt off or anything," Ginny stated, annoyed.
Ron closed the door in front of him momentarily. Then proceeded to knock.
"Come in," Ginny called.
"Have either of you seen Harry?"
"No," both girls shouted in unison.
"Okay, finished," Ginny said, smiling. She turned around to face Hermione. "How do I look?"
"Um perfect!" Hermione said in awe. "Your hair looks beautiful, Ginny! All of you looks beautiful!"
Ginny laughed. "I could say the same for you. Well...not the hair part...we still need to work on that."
"Maybe I will take you up on that offer, after all," Hermione said uncertainly.
Before Ginny could express her delight, the bedroom door opened for a third time.
"Does anyone in this house knock?!" Ginny yelled, whipping her head around.
"Sorry, dear," Mrs. Weasley said. "I was just wondering where you put the seating charts."
Finally, after what Ginny proclaimed to be a successful morning ("Only one broken bone!"), the Weasleys, Delacours, Harry and Hermione, all lined up to greet the guests as they arrived and show them to their seats.
It was the first wedding Hermione had ever been to, muggle or magical, and for this, she was quite excited.
Fleur looked extraordinarily beautiful as she walked down the aisle, her smile radiating a warmth that seemed to spread out amongst the crowd of guests.
Hermione truly felt guilty for misjudging Fleur all those months ago. It surprised her somewhat. She was never one to make quick judgements, and yet she had completely condemned the girl from the start.
And why? All because of her immature jealousy. All because of her pathetic insecurities. Hermione truly felt ashamed, and she vowed to treat the girl with the respect that she had deserved from the start.
As Bill and Fleur began their first dance, all eyes were set upon them. Well, almost all eyes. Hermione could feel someone's stare on her and she turned her head to see Ron gazing at her intently.
"What are you staring at?" Hermione asked, feeling slightly unnerved.
She noticed him visibly gulp, then take a deep breath in. "You look really nice tonight, Hermione," he said.
She didn't really know how to respond to this. She didn't even know how she felt about it, to be honest. It was the same strange feeling she'd received when he'd comforted her. She appreciated it, yes. But it just didn't feel...right.
"Thanks Ron," she responded. "You look nice, too."
Turning away from him, she sighed heavily. She sincerely hoped that he didn't actually fancy her. She knew all too well what it felt like to have feelings for someone who didn't return them. It was painful. Extremely painful. And she really didn't want Ron to go through that.
For the rest of the night, Hermione kept her eye on both Harry and Ron, in case they were in need of a quick escape. The former was proving more difficult since she kept forgetting which redhead Harry was disguised as among the sea of redheads around them. However, she soon spotted him talking with an older man and Ron's Aunt Muriel.
After about a full hour of straight dancing, Hermione felt as if she could walk no longer, and collapsed onto the nearest chair in front of her. She was a little ways away from Harry who was still conversing with the odd pair.
She wondered what they could be discussing but figured he would tell her later if it was anything of importance. So she took to staring at him for a moment, and marvelled at the fact that even disguised as a freckly redhead, he still had the ability to make her heart beat quicker.
Something in the way he held himself, or maybe the way he would talk with his entire body, or perhaps it was the way he would stare so intently at a person when they were speaking to him, as if every word they were saying was of the utmost importance. It was so clearly Harry that she was surprised the entire room didn't spot him instantly.
Maybe no one else studies his every move like you do.
Hermione let out a humorous sniff. "Yeah...maybe," she said to herself, quietly.
She was just about to walk over to him, but at that moment, something large and silver came falling through the canopy over the dance floor. The Patronus's mouth opened wide and it spoke in the loud, deep, slow voice of Kingsley Shacklebolt.
"The Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming."
Hermione froze for a split second as her heart jumped into her throat. Then without another moment's deliberation, she sped towards Harry and both of them threw themselves into the panicking crowd, searching frantically for Ron.
This was it.
This was war.
A/N: I'm really, really, incredibly sorry about the long wait! Life just gets in the way sometimes. I hope that I still have readers somewhere out there and I hope that you'll enjoy this chapter! As always, feel free to leave any questions, comments, criticisms, or suggestions. Have an excellent day, my friends :)