A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows after last chapter! You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions.

Please let me know what you thought of chapter forty-one and be on the lookout for chapter forty-two soon!

December 1969

Hermione was barely able to squeeze into the booth at the Hog's Head, her pregnant belly having grown so round as the year and the decade came to a close. Waving off Aberforth Dumbledore's offer of a butterbeer, Hermione instead requested a glass of water. She'd tried not to cringe at the dingy state of the glassware when it was handed to her.

Her child had grown so large now that she could no longer feel the sweeps and rolls it would make inside her womb, but she could still feel the persistent kicks and pushes the baby made as it outgrew its little home. She pressed her hands against her skin while she waited for her companions, comforted when the baby pushed back against her.

A wave of guilt went through her when she remembered that Rodolphus had no idea that the baby even existed yet. Of course, they hadn't parted on the best of terms - Godric, she had been so angry at him - but she was certain that he would want to know about the baby no matter what happened between them. Her resolve was beginning to waver, and she wondered if there wasn't some way that she could let him know.

There wasn't a day that went by that she didn't think about him. Despite their distance and the way that they had left things, Hermione couldn't pretend as if she didn't still love him. She'd never given herself a chance to get over him, but there was some part of her that couldn't let it go. Maybe, with time...

Before she could grow more melancholy than she already was, the bell above the door rang and two new customers arrived. Dumbledore and Arthur saw her immediately and made a beeline for the table she was at. Although they were the only customers in the pub on a blustery Tuesday night, Aberforth took his sweet time in bringing them their requested drinks. Apparently, there was some lingering animosity between the two brothers, but Hermione knew that it was unlikely to be expanded upon that night.

"What's with the secrecy? Couldn't we just have met at the Burrow?" Hermione asked, wondering why she'd had to steal away, taking great care not to be seen as the letter from Dumbledore had suggested.

Arthur looked bothered. "Look, Hermione, there is no good way to tell you this," he started off with a frown. "But it has come to our attention that You Know Who has...become aware of you."

Hermione frowned. Merlin, she had hoped that she'd been unremarkable enough in this time so as to escape his notice. She wondered just what she had done this time that had caught his eye, knowing that she'd basically been living as a hermit since she left Hogwarts. She doubted that Rodolphus's father would have said anything about her, considering he'd have to admit to what his son and heir had done. It didn't seem like a very smart thing of the older Lestrange to do.

"How?" she heard herself asking out loud. "Was it...Bellatrix?" she added, thinking that the witch was the most likely culprit. After all, it seemed as if she'd blabbed to her father which is what started all the trouble in the first place. And, for whatever reason, Bellatrix had it out for Hermione because she wouldn't help her get out of her betrothal. Did she still hold a grudge even after she'd been freed of her engagement with Rodolphus?

She reminded herself of the time she'd seen Bellatrix at Flourish and Blotts, when the Slytherin had discovered that Hermione was pregnant. She'd promised that she wouldn't tell Rodolphus about the baby, but she hadn't promised not to tell anyone else. Merlin, the timing was too suspicious for it not to be. "It must have been her," Hermione told the other two, looking at Dumbledore guiltily. "She's the person I ran into in Diagon Alley and well, she knows about the baby."

"It doesn't really matter who told him about you, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said, disappointment reflected in his eyes. "What we need to discuss is what we are going to do about it."

"Oh right," Hermione said in turn, realizing that her situation was quite precarious. They were coming up on a time when Voldemort's Death Eaters wreaked havoc on the Wizarding World and where people "disappeared" all the time. It's what had created the Order of the Phoenix in the first place. "Can't I just stay at the Burrow? We've updated the warding and everything."

Arthur frowned. "It's not that I don't like having you as a guest Hermione," he said, his cheeks turning bright red. "But, it's too dangerous to have you stay there. Too many people know about it now and...and I just can't risk Molly's safety."

A knot formed in her throat. She'd just been so selfish she hadn't even thought about the position it was putting Molly and Arthur in. "Oh, of course," she said, trying not to cry at the table when she realized just how terrible this all really was. "I didn't mean...I just think that, I don't think anyone who knows would tell, but I understand. We can't risk it."

"We can't," Dumbledore agreed. "Arthur and I have been talking, and we think we've come up with the best possible solution. If You Know Who wants you dead, then...we will just have to fake your death. It's the only thing that will get him and his Death Eaters to stop."

"What?" Hermione asked, thinking that it sounded a bit preposterous. "Couldn't I just trick them into thinking I've moved to America or something? Surely if I am all the way across the ocean he won't care about one little muggleborn."

"Hermione, you know that won't work," Arthur said, reaching across the table to give her hand a quick squeeze. "They won't stop looking and it puts not only me, but also my parents in danger. Think of all the people who knew that you stayed with them while at Hogwarts."

This time, Hermione wasn't able to stop a tear from escaping her eye. She quickly wiped at her cheeks with the sleeve of her robe, remembering how kind Cedrella and Septimus were to her. And little Georgie, who'd be halfway done with his last year at Hogwarts now. "Alright, what do we do," she asked, knowing that there was no other choice.

"I've found somewhere for you to live after tonight," Dumbledore explained. "Arabella Figg is an old associate of mine. She is a squib and therefore the Ministry did not keep a record of her. She has a spare room that she has offered to you. She lives in the muggle world."

"The muggle world?" Hermione asked, realizing that it had been over two years since she'd been in the muggle world for real. It would be strange to go back there, even if it was familiar to her. "You promise that you won't just leave me there...I want to - I need to help with You Know Who. I need to help finish this."

"When you can be useful, I will always use your assistance," Dumbledore agreed with a nod.

Hermione was struck by the way that he clearly saw people...based on their usefulness. She wanted to argue that she was just as invested in this as possible, but she also knew that if she was dead, she wouldn't be able to help either. "And you'll send me books, so that I can keep looking for Hufflepuff artifacts?"

"I can stop by once a week. Because of my job, I go into the muggle world on occasion, so it won't raise eyebrows," Arthur promised.

"Okay," she agreed, thinking that she'd be able to help, even if it was just in a small way. It wasn't as if she could do much dueling now, anyhow, so close to giving birth. Her stomach was too unwieldy now.

Dumbledore smiled at her. "All we need now is a strand of your hair," he requested, his blue eyes going a bit hard behind half-moon glasses.

"My hair? What for?" she asked, before the wheels in her head started turning. Unless they meant to use... "No, I absolutely refuse to let you polyjuice someone into me only to have them killed! I won't let someone else die on my behalf."

"This person is very old, and they have dragonpox. They know that they only have a week at most left to live," Dumbledore explained. "They want to do this, because it is their way of helping out our cause. Please don't argue with us, just give us the hair."

"I can't," Hermione said, feeling her heart beating wildly in her chest.

"It's the only way to make it seem really believable, Hermione," Arthur practically begged. "Please, it's for my parents' safety."

Knowing that they weren't going to let this go, Hermione knew that she didn't have much of a choice other than to comply. She would just have to believe that what Dumbledore said was the truth about the witch or wizard wanting to do this. Reaching into her hair, Hermione twirled one curly strand around her finger before pulling it free, ignoring the pinch in her scalp.

Handing it over, Dumbledore placed the brown strand into a vial for safe keeping.

"So what happens next?" she asked.

"I will take you to see Arabella now," Dumbledore said. "I'm afraid that there is no time for you to even go back to the Burrow. Unfortunately, no one else can know that you haven't really died, or else this whole exercise is pointless."

"I'll collect your things, though, and bring them to you tomorrow," Arthur promised. "So you won't have to wait too long for your trunk."

"But, Arthur, what about Molly? I can't have her think that I've died!" Hermione said, thinking that it would hurt her new friend far too much. "Please, I know we can't tell everyone, but can't you at least tell her?"

Arthur and Dumbledore shared a look, before nodding in agreement. "I'll explain it to her," Arthur said finally. "But everyone else...the Prewetts, McGonagall, my parents, the rest of the wizarding world will think that you're gone." He did not seem too happy to have to go to these lengths, but if it meant that it would keep everyone safe, it appeared that he was willing to do it.

Leaving her water glass untouched, Hermione gave Arthur a big tight hug. "I'm so sorry that I've gotten you into this mess, Arthur," she said, wishing that she had gone back to her correct time. Then none of them would have to worry about her.

"Don't worry, Hermione," he said, hugging her back just as tightly. "I'm sure that I would have gotten in trouble even if you weren't here. The Weasleys are blood traitors after all," he added with a wink. "Now, you keep yourself and that baby safe."

With that, Dumbledore was leading her into the back room of the Hog's Head, where they could apparate without being seen. Taking his arm, Hermione allowed the Headmaster to side-along her to her new safe house.

When she opened her eyes, they were standing in a small back garden, with a high fence on all sides. A thin blanket of snow remained untouched, save their footprints. The house was small, but well kept, and it didn't take long before the back door was opening. A woman in a pink dressing gown and with rollers in her hair appeared at the top of the steps, several cats weaving between her legs.

"Albus, good to see you," the presumably Mrs. Figg said. "Come in, come in. It's much too cold to be standing outside all night."

Hermione took a step forward into her new home for...who knew how long she would be there. But hopefully when she left, Voldemort would be dead and the wizarding world would be free.