They stood for a moment, on the beach, right outside the third little building that was now home to Hermione's parents. It was a lovely place, brilliantly whitewashed, with small bay windows facing the Ocean. The windows were open partially, which was allowing a breeze in. White net curtains were visible through the window, drawn close, but every so often parting slightly in the breeze, revealing a bit of the interior. It looked delightfully simple, with plenty of open space and modest, yet elegant furniture.

Harry glanced at the others for a moment. Hermione was understandably more nervous than ever. Her gaze was focused on the front door, which was up a few little steps, about three metres away from where she was standing. She seemed to be holding herself back. Harry couldn't decide whether she was refraining herself from running towards the door, or running away from it.

Ron was standing next to Hermione, trying to conceal his impatience brought on by standing around doing nothing. He was doing a not bad job, Harry thought, but then again, Hermione was so focused on the door in front of her, she probably wouldn't have noticed if Ron had started jumping up and down to get her attention.

He then smiled at Ginny, who was currently standing on his left hand side, her right arm looped through his left. They stood their for a good thirty seconds, then he surmised it was about time they got moving, so called over to Hermione. "Do you want to go first, Hermione?" he asked softly, "or would you rather it was one of us?" Better not to make her feel hurried, but at the same time, they couldn't stand around on the beach all day, regardless of how pleasant it was.

She shook her head dreamily in response, then made her way, ever so slowly, to the door. Ron, Ginny, then Harry followed silently, falling in a few steps behind her. Harry still had his wand gripped tightly through the hole in his shorts pocket.

Hermione reached the door a few seconds later. It was only a few steps away in reality, but it must have felt like a million miles to her. Harry saw her take a visibly deep breath, then turn to Ron, who managed an encouraging smile. She then turned back to the door, and knocked very gently, three times.

Harry was about to tell her that that she would have to knock a bit louder than that, but he never did get the chance, as about five seconds after she knocked, the door was flung open. There in the doorway, looking a picture of health and as happy as one can be, was Hermione's father. Harry had to close his eyes for a few seconds, and take a few deep breaths. He had nearly drawn his wand and blasted the doorway to pieces when the door had opened so suddenly. He was still silently chastising himself for overreacting when Mr Granger, or Mr Wilkins as he was now known, was inviting them in. Ginny gave his arm a squeeze to get his attention, then led him through the doorway, into a cool, spacious hallway, that branched off in to many other rooms.

Hermione's father led them in to the Living Room, which was the first door on the right as you entered the hall – it also transpired to be the room you could see from outside, when the curtains were blown open by the breeze. It was beautifully appointed, with a deep mahogany wooden floor, and matching furniture. One thing that struck Harry as rather odd though, was the television. It wasn't the television itself that caught his attention, it was the fact it was on the bookcase, in as much as it had been crammed in there, where eight or nine books may have been previously. It looked rather out of place with the rest of the room, but he assumed they found it easier to watch at such an angle. Or perhaps they simply hadn't been able to find a matching television stand...

"We're sorry to bother you, Sir," Hermione said to her father, which must have felt exceptionally strange, as he of course had no idea who she was, "But we really do need to discuss a f-few things."

She looked very disturbed, she was as white as a ghost, and clearly struggling to find the right way to handle this situation. Harry was quite surprised she hadn't just pulled her wand out, reversed the memory charm, then explained the whole predicament. That's what he would have done. Much easier to explain once they actually knew who she was. Unless...

"It's no trouble young lady, I can assure you, it's a rather nice surprise to have visitors – it's often quite lonely out here as you can imagine." said Mr Granger, in response to Hermione, clearly quite oblivious to her discomfort. "I'll just call my wife, then we can discuss whatever it is you need to discuss."

He gestured enthusiastically for them to take a seat on a large couch at the far end of the Living Room. It was right by the bookcase, and a set of French Doors, that opened on to the decking area which led on to the beach. Opposite the couch, separated by a coffee table, there were two armchairs, where Hermione's parents sat when they joined them.

Mrs Granger also looked well, and exactly as Harry remembered her to, which he was relieved to see. But, she also looked to be almost as nervous as Hermione, which he though was quite strange. Perhaps four complete strangers turning up out of the blue was making her feel a bit apprehensive – that would be quite understandable of course.

Then he had a feeling something was missing. Something pretty obvious. He looked out the window, at the beautiful blue sky and fine white sand beach, watched the sun beat down on the crystal clear water, and then turned to Mr Granger. "It's a lovely spot you have here, Sir, I'd imagine you can't stay off the beach, what with it being so close?" he then smiled to Hermione's mother, "You too, it must be great to just relax in the sun every now and again."

"Absolutely terrific," Hermione's father said, with a grin, "can't stay off the thing!" Hermione's mother seemed to have a bit trouble answering though, and in the end, she settled for a nervous nod of her head. "Anyway," continued Hermione's father, giving her mother a quizzical look, then returning to his cheery manner when addressing Hermione, Harry, Ron and Ginny. "Enough of us, what can we do for you?"

"We'll get to that in just a minute," said Hermione, glancing over at Harry, for just a fraction of a second, to see if he was following what she was saying, then glancing back to her mother, fixing a kind smile on her face, "First, would you mind if I used your bathroom, please?"

It was a simple question, but it seemed to have quite an adverse effect, particularly on Hermione's mother. Her eyes widened, and she looked immediately to her husband, who had kept a bit more composure than her. "I'm terribly sorry," he said quickly, sounding genuinely apologetic, "but I'm afraid our bathroom is having work done, and is temporarily out of order." He threw his hands up in an exaggerated shrug, as if doing so would convey how much of an inconvenience the situation had become to them.

As Mr Granger threw his arms up, Harry sprung upright from the couch without warning, pulled out his wand, and hit him square in the middle of the chest with a jet of bright red light that lit up the room. The impact of the spell blasted his chair backwards, which resulted in him being tossed like a rag doll, halfway across the room once it hit the floor. He didn't get back up again.

Mrs Granger looked at Harry with wide, disbelieving eyes, then jumped up from her chair. She looked furious all of a sudden, like she was about to give Harry a piece of her mind for hurting her Husband, or something along those lines, so Harry gave her exactly the same treatment. He held back a bit, partly because she was standing, and partly, even though he had learned a long time ago they could be just as dangerous, if not more so, because she was a woman. Human nature prevailed though, it just didn't feel right hitting her as hard. She still went down though, and it was still going to hurt when she woke up. It was as if she was a puppet, and someone had just cut the strings. She just fell where she stood.

A few seconds worth of fast, sudden violence, and then it was over. Harry had to compose himself, and bring his heart rate back down to normal. He was shaking with the sudden exertion, but forced himself to look round at Hermione. "Do you want to go and check they're alive, or will I?"

She shook her head, looking at the bodies on the floor in disgust, then left the room through the door they had came in, back in to the hall.

"Hermione," Ginny called urgently, obviously catching up with the situation, "Wait, I'll come with you."

She ran past Harry, giving him another squeeze on the arm as she went. Then Harry was left alone with Ron. He turned to him to see if the penny had dropped, but knew instantly it hadn't. Ron was looking between the two bodies on the floor, his mouth hanging open in astonishment, trying to process and make sense of what had just happened, but clearly failing miserably.

"Harry," he said, his voice faint, incredulous, "what the bloody hell just happened?"

"Just tie them up, mate," Harry said to Ron, nodding to the bodies of Hermione's parents, "then I'll explain. I think we'll find out in just a minute anyway, whether we're right or wrong."

Ron glanced down at the bodies for a moment, hesitating. They were Hermione's parents after all. Deciding though that there must be a very good reason for all of this, he flicked his wand towards the first body, Mr Granger's, then moved on to Mrs Granger, where he hesitated a moment more. A few seconds later though, both bodies were tied tight, and going nowhere. He turned back to face Harry.

"If we're right or wrong about wha -" Ron began, but then stopped dead. As coming through the doorway at that point were Ginny and Hermione. They were followed by Hermione's parents. Who looked absolutely terrible.

They were wearing old, dirty rags, which Harry presumed at some point must have been clothes, ruined over time. Mr Granger had grown a beard. There were big, ugly and obvious chunks missing from his hair, as though someone had ripped it out. He also had, on the parts of skin that were still visible, bruising and scarring, where he had obviously been subjected to some sort of a beating. Mrs Granger didn't look much better physically, and she was clearly very shaken. She was as white as a ghost, malnourished, and didn't look at all well. If Harry had to guess, he would have to say that going by the way they looked, they had been deprived of decent food and care for several weeks, if not months.

Hermione lowered her parents on to the couch, then bent close to talk to them, perhaps trying to assert if there was any mental damage before she reminded them of who she was. It was at that point that Harry felt a real pang of sorrow for his friend. She was, knowing Hermione, going to be blaming herself for whatever had happened to them.

Hermione straightened herself up, then spoke with Harry and the others, very quitely, so her parents wouldn't hear. "I can't reverse the memory charms just yet," she whispered, her voice shaking with emotion, "I need to find out what happened to them first, and they won't remember the last few weeks once I've reinstated their previous memories. I hate to lie to them again, but there really is only one way that a muggle will speak openly and truthfully with a complete stranger."

That said, she rummaged in her bag for a few moments, and came back out with a small square piece of parchment. It was entirely blank, but she tapped it once with her wand, then turned back to her parents, who were still sitting on the couch, staring at the bodies on the floor. It must have been quite surreal, Harry thought, to see an exact replica of yourself lying unconscious in your own home.

Hermione moved back to her parents line of sight, and held the parchment right in front of them, at eye level, so they could see it clearly. "Mr and Mrs Wilkins," she said clearly, "My colleagues and I are from The Australian Federal Police." They glanced at the parchment, which to Harry's eye, was still entirely blank, but they nodded in acknowledgement – they must have seen something he hadn't. They looked relieved – the Police were here, they knew they were safe. "We're going to have to run through exactly what happened here, I'm afraid. I know it will be tough to go through it all again, so I'll give you some time to gather your thoughts. We will just be in the hallway, please call us when you're ready."

She gestured to the others to join her, so Harry and Ron grabbed a body each by the legs, and pulled them unceremoniously out to the hallway. The real Mr and Mrs Granger looked on in horror as their impersonators were taken away.

Once in the hallway, they headed up towards the next room on the right, which turned out to be the Kitchen. It was a lovely bright, spacious room, with modern yet homely décor. There was a breakfast bar with two stools against the far wall, which Hermione headed straight for, burying her head in her hands, looking utterly dismal. Ron obviously felt it was time for him to fulfil his duty as a caring boyfriend, as he proceeded to sit in the stool next to her, whilst patting her gently on the back. Coming from Ron, this was somewhat of a big deal.

Harry could tell this was affecting Ron pretty badly though, as he was exceptionally quiet. Entirely out of character. He'd finally caught on to what had happened, there was no doubt about that. He now completely understood that Hermione's parents had been taken hostage in their own home. For how long, and for why, they were about to find out.

Ginny found the kettle, and busied herself digging out enough mugs for everyone. If Harry could smile, he would have. He would have told her she reminded him of her mum...she would have laughed it off...under different circumstances.

He decided to remove himself from the Kitchen, and after giving the two immobile bodies on the floor a kick, perhaps harder than he needed to, to make sure they were still unconscious, he headed back in to the hallway, and waited outside the Living Room door, for when Hermione's parents were ready to relive their nightmare. Ginny passed him a few minutes later, heading in to the Living Room with two steaming mugs for the Grangers. He heard mumbled thanks, then Ginny came back through the door. She came up close and pressed herself against him. She felt warm, vulnerable, but safe and reassuring all at once. She was incredible. Harry made a mental note to tell her at a more appropriate time.

"Harry, this is awful," she whispered, "They're ready to talk they say," she nodded in the general direction of where the Granger's were sitting, "but, I don't know if we're ready to listen. This could break Hermione's heart."

"Lets go and tell her," Harry said, "She might want to sit this one out, in fact, that may actually be better for her."

"No chance," said Ginny quietly, as they made their way to the Kitchen again, "She'll feel she has to do this, she'll already be blaming herself for them being found by now anyway, you know that?"

Harry nodded, then they both stepped in to the kitchen. Hermione wasn't burying her head any more, she was still at the breakfast bar with Ron, but she seemed to be coming to terms with her shock.

"Hey, Hermione, you're going to have to show me that trick with the parchment," said Harry, smiling to his friend, trying to lift her spirits, "What a handy thing that will be for any muggles we bump in to when we're out on work with the Aurors."

She smiled back, it was definitely weak, but it was definitely a smile. There was also a little colour in her cheeks again, the start of a trademark Hermione blush when complimented on a moment of brilliance. "Oh. It's really not too difficult," she replied modestly, "I'll tell you all about it another time, OK?"

"Sounds good to me," said Harry, then changing the subject, and lowering the mood somewhat, he came right out with, "Your parents are ready to talk Hermione, are you sure you want to be there? We wouldn't mind filling in for you."

"I suppose I've been dreading them saying they'll be ready," she sighed, "But, I have to be there, I have to know what they've had to go through."

"It's not your fault, Hermione," said Harry assertively.

"I know."

"They won't blame you."

"I know"

"You don't have to be there, just tell us what to ask, and I'll tell you what they say."

"No. Harry, I appreciate your concern, but I have to do this, please understand that." She walked past him to the door, and glanced at the two still figures on the ground as she passed. "How hard did you hit those idiots anyway? They've been out for ages."

Harry shrugged, "A whole lot less than I should have, depending on what your parents are about to tell us." he said grimly, following her out the door.

Ron and Ginny were going to stay and guard the two imposters in the Kitchen. They were going to come and tell Harry and Hermione when they woke up, or when their Polyjuice Potion wore off – whichever occurred first. Harry guessed they had half an hour at best with Mr and Mrs Granger.

Before he and Hermione entered the Living Room, Harry put a hand out to stop Hermione. He had been meaning to ask for a while, but hadn't gotten round to it. "How did you know it wasn't your parents?" he enquired, out of ear range of the Grangers.

"Oh. I just knew, almost straight away. They answered the door too fast, didn't ask enough questions about who we were, and they didn't offer us drinks. That's what settled it for me. Memory Charm or no Memory Charm, my parents always offer their guests drinks."

"Yeah, they were pretty rusty, I suppose"

"How did you know though, Harry? You were the first to click out of everyone, yet you've only met my parents a few times. What could possibly have given it away to you?

"It wasn't so much their attitude. You're right, I'm not really familiar with that, but your mum, or, er … whoever she was, she seemed really nervous. It was the TV that done it for me though. That and the lack of suntans. Oh, and of course your little test to see if they'd let you go to the bathroom. That sealed the deal for me."

Hermione smiled, "The TV too, they don't watch it, that's why it would be stuffed in the bookshelf like that – it's probably doesn't even belong to them. And I really wanted to make sure, you know, for certain, with the bathroom thing. I'm glad you caught on. What on earth does lack of a suntan have to do with anything though?"

"Simple. If you lived here, you love the beach. You told me your Mum and Dad love the beach, and they have the most fantastic weather here. You'd think they'd get a tan if they were out and about living their normal lives – and they didn't. It set the alarm bells ringing, especially as I had a bad feeling on the way here something wasn't right. So, I was on guard, and suspicious – that's all.

"Well I'm glad, Harry, it looks like you're going to make a pretty good Auror anyway!"

"You too, sure you don't fancy signing up? It's not too late to change your mind?"

She shivered. "Dealing with things like this every day for the rest of my life? No thanks. I don't think I've got the stomach for it."

Harry pulled her in to a hug, that he hoped would reassure her, and make her feel a bit better about such a terrible situation. Then he put his hand gently on her back, and guided her through the door, where her parents were staring up at them with a mixed expression of relief and expectancy.

It was time to find out exactly what had happened, first-hand.