Author's Note: Sorry for the long delay—my classes are taking up so much time this semester! I have to thank everyone for all of their wonderful reviews, comments, and points to improve my writing. I hope you all like this chapter which starts some weeks after chapter 6.

From Darkness

By Rei (Of Reminiscence)

Previously on From Darkness Chapter 6: The Interlude Between Conflicts

"It couldn't have been entirely unexpected—they know we're a family." Harry tossed the fork back onto the table and suddenly leaned forward making the chair creak uncomfortably in Hermione's ears. "We need to find a place they won't look for you, but first thing is that we need to do is make a list."

"Are we gonna check it twice?" Fred and George grinned until they saw Molly's annoyed face but retained that twinkle in their eye when they saw the tinniest smile from Hermione.

Later on that night Hermione slept in the spare bed on Ron's room. Her hair, only slightly damp from the brief towel dry, laid across the pillow. A soft chime and Hermione knew it was almost ready for dawn. Ron's heavy breathing from the other bed did nothing to lull her to sleep. As her friend called another name Hermione's face heated and hurriedly turned her body to face the wall.

Harry's voice was just barely over the roar before it tremendous noise halted into deafening silence. Hermione turned around and for a brief moment thought that she saw Harry face before a brilliant light burned her eyes. Hermione shook her head—no she knew she saw Harry because he had aged since she saw him last. For that brief instant…hope flared up in Hermione's chest and then crashed feeling a shard of glass cut into her cheek.

"What's happening?"

Hermione came to the conclusion that she had been unconsciousness for a few minutes. The sound of curses and the damaged they caused surrounded them.

The door closed and Narcissa gently tugged her away from the door, "Draco, take her upstairs to her room.

Chapter 7: Moments of Clarity

(Four Weeks after the events in Chapter 6)

Albus Dumbledore carefully examined the distressed face of Hermioone
Granger, the student who in all of his years at Hogwarts who had held the
most promise. Although the threat of Voldemort and Harry's safety was
always on his mind, he had worked hard to find her the best of jobs or
opportunities to further her education. The massive file which held her
once promising future sat tucked away collecting dust—none of those
opportunities were available to a blind even if she had helped saved the
world beside the glorious hero Harry Potter. She was an icon of strength
and intelligence. She was not someone who could wave a wand or look you in
the eye.

His normal habit of asking guests to sample muggle candy was answered with a
small smile and open palm. Hermione Granger was always a polite and
charming young girl. Around the Jolly Rancher, Dumbledore cleared his
throat "I think I understand my dear and if you really don;t wan to return
to Malfoy Manor than we'll work out something." Dumbledore smiled at
Hermione's heart felt sigh of relief, "But I really think that I should also
give Mr. Malfoy an explanation when I send him a letter. He deserves that
much my dear."

"I guess I just prefer to live alone. My stay was comfortable, but I really
just don't belong there."

"If you don't mind me asking, why not?"

Hermione squirmed in her seat before forcing herself into a calm stillness.
"Paintings sir." She bowed her head so that tendrils of brown hair covered
her face.

Dumbledore winced knowing something of Malfoy Manor. "Yes?" With his wand
he motioned an overstuffed sofa chair closer to the one Hermione was sitting
on. Gently the older wizard laid his hand on her wrist. "Go on."

Hermione took a breath and paused thoughtfully. "They don't around Draco or
Mrs. Malfoy, but if they aren't there... I can't live being called a whore
and a mudblood in my own room. The paintings are always there and they..."
Hermione stopped, he lower lip trembling, "I just can't."

Dumbledore nodded and very sincerely held a handkerchief to her face and
instructed her to blow her nose. "I see what you mean my dear, but yet I
know your friends and parents would feel better if you stayed at the Manor.
No?" Dumbledore took a quill and began writing a note to Malfoy Manor.
"I'll see what I can do for you my dear, and for tonight I think you'll do
better if you stay here. There is a guest room upstairs, first door on the
right if you think you could manage."

Hermione nodded and with a somberness gathered her cane and left the room.
The carpet muffled her footsteps and the soft tap of her cane, and yet
Dumbledore waited until he could hear the soft click of a door closing
upstairs. "She's upstairs now...you can come out."

Draco sagged into the chair Hermione had just vacated and scowled at the
disapproving face of Harry Potter. "I swear I didn't know, she's never said
a work of it to me."

If it hadn't been for her striving need to preserve any sense of maturity,
Hermione would have giggled. After her long night of rested sleep, Hermione
gradually woke up to the smell of scrambled eggs, bacon, hashbrowns, toast,
and hot tea. Hermione managed to eat most of the feast before a house elf
appeared and pushed her towards a waiting bath. Then, to Hermione's
horror, the elf took up a sponge and began to dutifully scrub her back.

Dumbledore's home did not have the space that permeated Malfoy Manor, but it
had all of its comforts and more. The elves were quite, obedient, but did
not shake and quiver like many house elves did. The house even felt like
summer holiday at the Weasleys, but it was spacious enough not to feel
crowded. The bath, long and luxurious, ended with long, full trousers, and a tunic after a thorough towel dry. Of course it took Hermione quite some time afterwards to brush out her hair, but once it was tangle free, Hermione braided her hair until it stretched down her back.

"Hermione?"

Hermione stood up and walked with her hands stretched out until she reached the door. "Yes sir?"

"Come down will you?"

Hermione could tell by distance in his voice that he was just at the foot of the stairs. Choosing to leave her cane behind for the short distance, she exited her room and began tentatively walking down the stairs, "Is there something you need sir?"

Dumbledore took Hermione's hand once she reached the bottom and tucked it into the crook of his arm. "Actually my girl, there is something I need. I have an urgent meeting I must attend, but while I'm gone I need some ingredients cut and ground up."

They entered a room and the wards around it made Hermione's skin tingle. "Sir, I don't think…"

"No, my dear, you may not be able to read, but I am sure you're able to think." When Hermione tugged her hand away Dumbledore grabbed her by the shoulders, so that her face and sightless eyes were turned towards him. "I have things that I must to today Hermione Granger and I need your help in order to get those things done. I also have to make arrangements for your next home because although I would be honored to have you as a guest, the target is too great and too visible."

When Hermione nodded her head Dumbledore smiled and touched the side of her face as he had done years ago to Harry when he faced his deepest fears. "Now I will tell you what roots you are cutting, dicing, and grinding down from left to right. If you remember the smells of the roots from your Potions classes I don't think that you'll have a problem."

Again Hermione nodded and paid close attention as Dumbledore described the workspace in front of her. When he was satisfied that Hermione would call Hoppy if she needed something he left and she picked up a small cut. With the first slice and every one afterwards, Hermione was almost sure that she saw a white blur. The scent of Wrenwood, Coldron, and dried organs filled her senses, but as she dutifully ground dried Ginfir into powder she thought back to her time spent at Malfoy Manor.

Her training had enabled Hermione to see her surroundings without sight, and Hermione could effectively defend herself during a fight. However, the tortuous sneering from the portraits never ended. She supposed that Draco had been courteous enough during her stay, but as their last fight proved Hermione wasn't a pureblood nor acted like one.

She winced as she remembered that painful strike against Draco's cheek when he mocked her. Granted, she knew the barbs on his tongue, but somehow she never thought that Draco, after saving her parents, would remark on her 'lesser' parentage. He had made the elves spy on her when he was not around and she blushed remembering his comment on her underwear. She could not see it so how could she see the shabby lace or the faded colors.

Mrs. Malfoy had been helpful when she helped arrange for Hermione to meet her parents at the Manor for dinner, but then politely excused herself right after their arrival. Hermione found out later from the portraits that she hated to see the sight of muggles and mudbloods at the table her husband had previously resided over.

Hoppy came with a light lunch and a washbasin sometime after twelve, but Hermione was only distracted from her work enough to eat half of the food—her concentration focused on the weeks past as her tended to the potion ingredients. The first bowl of Ginfir was grounded down into the finest powder and Hermione moved on to the last ingredient, dragon scales. The liter of dragon scales would take ages to grind down, and so Hermione once again allowed her mind to wonder.

Draco's reaction to her first days in his home was overprotective, and embarrassing. Hermione's dismay came upon that first night when Hermione remembered her mother's lectures on unmarried woman who lived in the houses of men. Of course her mother knew that such things were rather common, but her mother was also of the opinion that only loose, uneducated, and self-destructive women would do such a thing.

Draco was a "nice young man" her mother had said, but that didn't mean her mother liked the fact her was protecting her daughter in his own home. Dumbledore was a professor and guardian for her. Harry and Ron were her best friends. Draco was her age, and antagonized her enough to keep her interested. At that point her father had excused himself from the conversation.

They had toured many countries, but they were eager to return to their dentist practice. Running from dark wizards and their associates was not something they had planned. The conversation continued with inquires about her eyesight, but Hermione knew that was the moment it ended. Something had happened during the war and her mother had recognized it before it even happened. Hermione was no longer a little girl who read books larger than her head. Instead, Hermione was a woman who found herself strangely detached from the things and people she had once held so dear to her life.

The dragon scales, Hermione realized, needed more pressure in order to become a powder before night fall, and she leaned forward applying more of her weight.

The clothes that arrived over lunch six days ago were the ones that represented who she was now. She no longer wore the Griffindor crest of Hogwarts, or even something from her muggle life. Her clothes bore no markers of a pureblood or even half-blood heritage except for maybe the quality of the cloth and tailor. If it hadn't been for her war-hero status or her friendship with Harry Potter, she would be invincible in the wizarding world.

The dragon scales were coming along nicely, but Hermione was careful not to grind them too fine. She imagined the bowl of scales before her and the soft metallic gleem of the draconic skin. The crackle of the scales within the mortar, from the pestle's pressure revealed that she was close finishing grinding the ingredient.

"Hermione?"

Dumbledore's voice called from the hallway and Hermione dusted her hands off before joining him. "I'm almost done…" She shrieked as a massive created propped two wet paws on her chest. "Rufus?"

"I had stopped at the Weasleys and I thought you could use his insight. An animal as faithful as this one should not be left behind. Hoppy left to get your cloak, but when she returns we'll be leaving."

Hermione hugged Rufus uncaring that his damp fur would leave a wet dog smell on her clothes. "Will Rufus be allowed to come?"

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled although Hermione could see it, "I expect Harry wouldn't begrudge you one pet."

Hermione pulled on her robe "We're going to Harry's house?"

"No, my dear, things are too serious for that. We're going to 12 Grimmauld Place."

The cheer that had been absent from Sirius Black's home now permeated the atmosphere. The scolding portraits had long been removed, the drab curtains been replaced, and the air was now revitalized. Fred and George were among the first to hug her in the torrent of friends, but Rufus stood quietly throughout the excitement. At one moment, Hermione knew Draco stood in front of her, but the pit between them evaporated when George carried her to the seat beside his mother.

"She'll be too busy with you to notice us, you know."

Hermione laughed and obligingly lowered her voice into a whisper, "If you think that'll work you're completely mad. Molly knows both of you are always up to something."

Dinner was served then and they laughed at the stories they shared, rejoicing in the time and fellowship they could spend with each other. Neville only split his goblet once and Ron only made two attempts at a speech. The twins successfully demonstrated their first trick of the evening but it was because Molly didn't have the heart to forbid them from one joke—she remembered when they had been too sorrowful to even smile.

She knew Draco stared at her all evening because he was the only one who said nothing. With a small shutter she remembered when he had asked her what she wanted. That one moment was only the first of unexpected moments that seemed to follow her around Malfoy Manor. Dinner continued until they moved with cups and saucers to the living room with Dobby cheerfully calling out that dessert would be served shortly. Hermione groaned at his proclamation, but smiled as Minerva walked with her.

"Headmaster."

"Ah yes. Severus I'm glad you could join us, here please sit down."

Hermione leaned over, "Professor…" Minerva's tut made her flush, "Minerva, where is everyone seating?"

Minerva's thoughtful silence evaluated the room. "We're sitting on a settee with Remus Lupin beside me. On your other side a few feet away, unfortunately mind you, is Fred and George Weasley. On the far side of them against the wall is Harry, Ron, Neville, Ginerva, and Lavendar. Mister Draco is sitting near them but he's closer to Albus who is directly across from us. Severus is sitting down at the small table with Alastor Moody…"

Hermione nodded, and althouth she sensed that other Order members were near by she quieted as Dumbledore began to speak.

"Friends, we have all come here because of events that we are all aware of. Voldemort's remains were stolen but we found them some weeks ago. There are whispers of a menace that caused this thievery, but our information is limited to those rumors. There have been harassments on several individuals including our own Hermione, and although I do not believe that this threat is one on a scale with Voldemort or his rise to power, I do believe that it is not dissimilar."

Dumbledore eyes flickered to the scowling face of Ron Weasley. "It seems like you have a question."

Ron did not gulp like he might have during his tutelage at Hogwarts, "When will this fight be over? We've spent years, decades, lifetimes even fighting the darkness and it seems that after we just start rebuilding someone else comes along to crush what we have."

Dumbledore's voice lifted in just a way that Hermione could hear the smile in his voice. "Excellent question. Do you see this?"

Ron shifted against the wall, "It's a candle".

"And if I light the candle?"

"The wick burns adding light to the room."

The smell of a burning candle filled the air as did the confusion from many of the room's occupants. "What else happens other than light, and the burning of the wick when I light the candle?"

Ron's lips thinned and creased as if he was figuring out his Potions homework. "The wax melts."

Dumbledore waited for another answer and was almost surprised when Draco leaned back and rested his head on his palm. The young man, who had a Death Eater father, who worked around the Dark Arts for most of his life understood first. "Shadows" Draco's voice was calm, although it held a moment of trepidation.

"Yes, five points to Slytherin." Lupin smiled and Severus rolled his eyes. "Well if we were still in Hogwarts it would be five points." Dumbledore turned back to Ron and motioned to the darkness created by the candle. "We cannot light a candle without creating shadows. 'Only in silence, the word, only in dark the light, only in dying life…'" Dumbledore paused, lost in thought, before clearing his voice. "Without the Dark there cannot be Light, and so the conflict will never completely end. When one part of the spectrum gains too much there is unbalance, and forces are created to restore that balance."

"So there will always be dark wizards?"

"Yes."

Silence permeated the room and Dumbledore sat down. "That may not have been the answer you were looking for, but there will always be those who are tempted by darker things and false promises. For the situation at hand I've asked Severus to bring a list of wizards and witches who are suspected of dark wizardry or those who might have escaped when Voldemort fell."

Hermione sat still and listened to Severus recite the numerous names. "Lestranges? I thought they were all killed…"

Severus paused, "We found out later that the bodies we had assumed to be theirs were actually the bodies of muggles charmed to share the same appearances."

Snape took a breath to continue reading the list but stopped, "Sir, maybe this is pointless, everyone here is familiar with death eaters and their suspected associates. Perhaps it would be better if you tell us what else we're here for."

Dumbledore smiled and adjusted his glasses on his nose, "Miss Granger needs a new home, the Grangers need a new identity, and we need to examine and execute a plan of action for the next coming weeks."

Lupin hesitated before leaning forward, "If we are going to discuss the Grangers then why aren't they here?"

Hermione bit her lip, "Where are my parents?"

Draco sat back up, "They're with my mother in Italy. My mother has a few acquaintances in America and she is looking into setting them up an office some where in New England—Maine I think she said."

"Oh."

There was silence for a moment before Fred and George solemnly stood up. "In the line of duty we have no choice but to honorably offer our flat to Hermione and her grand defender Rufus."

Minerva's mouth dropped, "absolutely not! Who knows what she could fall into without the ability to see what horrible, disgusting, and unfortunate concoctions you devils have devised."

Fred smiled and George swooped down to kneel at Hermione's feet, "Oblige us dear Hermione. Allow us to house your incredibly massive brain and temper."

She laughed and drew her hand away from George's grasp, "It's not that I would…"

"Head master, all things set aside, I think that it would be better for Miss Granger to come with me." Snape pulled at his robe's cuffs, "I think that my current residence is the one least commonly known out of all those present."

The room exploded into a commotion of rapidly talking voices, and frustrated friends, but Dumbledore solemnly held up his hand signaling silence. "Agreed Severus, if that is alright with you Miss Granger?"

Hermione nodded, and did her best to ignore Fred's comment of "Poor girl she'll be waiting for that death any minute now." She smiled when Minerva squeezed her shoulder and whispered that the dreaded professor wasn't that bad.

Harry brushed his thick black hair away from his face and waved his wand. After a murmured word an imaged appeared of an older building long neglected. "Ron and I traced the evidence of dark magic to here." The image flickered and then zoomed onto the front of the house. "The house originally belonged to a Roger Hauvermale, but the Hauvermale bloodline never showed any inkling towards magical predispositions. The trail ended here with this paper which said "Draught of Morte" but no previous…Snape?"

Severus Snape gritted his teeth in anger, "Damn fools…" He looked up and saw his former pupils and order members staring at him. "I know that Voldemort ordered this potion to be created but I didn't know that some fool had done so. The person who drinks this potion loses parts of themselves in order to absorb the power of ingredients incorporated into the potion. If someone added phoenix tears they would find themselves able to heal themselves."

Harry banished the image, "Then why is it the draught of death?"

"Inevitably the potion tears the internal organs of the user apart, and once it enters the body the effects cannot be reversed. The body cannot house powers it was not created for."

Ginny's voice only held the smallest tremor. "Then why would someone harass Hermione, or any of us, if they could drink this potion and get revenge on Harry without us knowing what they were planning."

"If the dark wizards weren't infallible and could comprehend their actions then Harry wouldn't have won."

Draco knew he was sleep. In fact, Draco knew that he was sleeping at the 12 Grimmauld Place. Hermione's room was three doors down from his on the right. However, Draco could not force himself to wake up.

Then Draco turned and noticed the old school yard behind him. The playground seemed to have survived a war and the trees were barren of leaves or fruit. He approached the rusted swings, his bare feet softly slapping against the pavement. "Hello?"

A high pitched childish laughter greeted his call and Draco ran towards it. "Is someone there?"

The laughter squealed louder again, but this time it caused goose bumps to raise on his skin. Behind the once blue slide, a girl stood, her once lace dress splattered red with something Draco believed wasn't paint or ketchup.

"Are you okay?" The girl giggled and Draco eyed her in horror, "Ring around the rosies, pocket full of posies, ashes, ashes, we all fall down!" Her mouth dropped open and her head fell to the side.

Gasping, Draco jerked himself awake, threw off the bed covers, and slammed his bedroom door open.

Hermione woke feeling a damp breath running across her legs. She sighed and faintly heard her name. "Yes?" She frowned when no answer came and sat up against the pillows. The breath thickened and wet droplets fell onto her ankles. Then somehow Hermione realized that whatever she heard or felt was not human. She felt the wraith climb up the length of her body and shuttered when it pressed cold hands to her mouth. Unable to scream, Hermione stated thrashing her arms.

"Hermione…Hermione…" The ghoul's mouth fell open and the remains of the Dark
Lord spilled forth. The thick liquid covered her chest and then Hermione did her best to reason. "You're not real…"

The creature squealed when a cascade of light thundered into the room. Light? Hermione blinked her eyes.

Draco's face came into view. Carefully he took her hand and laid it upon his defined cheekbones. "Hermione are you okay?"

She could hear doors slamming open and feet pounding down the hallway. Hermione eyes blinked once and twice and yet Draco's face still remained. The
image of Draco, his hair long, eyes searching, struck her. "Draco?" The
image vanished and the horrible feeling of the creature's bile made her choke. The repulsion she felt though was offset by that one blissful moment of joy. "I saw you…just for a moment but I saw you."

Snape peeled off his own robe that also had been soiled by a creature. "Whoever is doing this isn't stable Dumbledore. They're enraged, and seek satisfaction. Head quarters isn't safe, and I need to move Miss Granger now."

Dumbledore lighted the lamps and with a wave bottled the bile, leaving Hermione and Snape free of the residue. "The creature is a follower so whoever it is does not know where we are." Dumbledore picked up several long curly hairs and frowned, "Its how it can find Miss Granger so easily… Whoever did this was able to get pieces of Hermione's hair."

At Rufus's howl several order members left the room and cried out that someone was in the house. She ignored the words and instead rubbed her eyes, "I saw you…"