Hermione was certain of two things only. The first was that the two figures flying in the distance were Harry and Professor Dumbledore. The second was that she had to get herself unnoticed to the Astronomy Tower because, with how high they were, that was the most likely place they would land. It was a logical assumption, backed up by the fact that it was from above the Astronomy Tower that the green light of the Dark Mark pulsed.

Malfoy's plan, whatever it was, succeeded.

Death Eaters were in the castle.

It was half past nine when Harry barged into the Gryffindor common room through the Fat Lady's portrait, paying no mind to Ron and Hermione who were doing their homework on the couch in front of the lit fireplace. Breathless, he ran past them and up the stairs to his dormitory, ignoring Ron's inelegant 'Oi!' and Hermione calling out his name. He rushed back to them in less than a minute, having retrieved from his suitcase everything he needed.

"No way, mate," Ron grumbled after Harry chucked the Marauder's Map into his lap. "I've got homework to copy," he whined, chucking the Map right back at his friend in vain hope that he'd take the Transfiguration assignment as a good enough excuse not to stick him with the job of babysitting Draco Malfoy's name on a piece of old parchment. Again.

The candlelit room was warm and the air smelled faintly of cinnamon from the apple pies Dobby brought them, but the peaceful comfort Ron and Hermione were feeling was gone when they noticed that Harry's mood was positively electric.

"Where are you going?" Hermione asked, alarmed, since the folded Invisibility cloak under Harry's arm could only mean trouble. "It's past curfew," she added, reaching up to gently tug at Harry's sleeve. His silent excitement was radiating in waves, sending a chill through her spine. Here we go again, she thought as Harry leaned down so that his friends could hear his whispering.

"It's happening. Dumbledore's found a Horcrux and he's taking me with him," Harry beamed. Ron spat out the cocoa he was sipping onto his lap and Hermione gasped in horror, covering her mouth with her hands in her usual manner.

Here we go again, indeed.

"We would have left already, but I had to fetch the cloak," Harry said with an unwavering smile, ignoring their fright as he reached into his pocket. "Feels like a good time to drink this," he grinned as he took the vial of the remaining Felix Felicis out of his pocket, uncorked it and drank its contents in a big gulp, much to his friends horror.

"But where in Merlin's name are you going?" Hermione all but shrieked, petrified by the way the situation was developing. Damn it all, she knew that big things had been set in motion by the Order, but this was too much. To battle, Harry was obviously going to battle - and she won't be there to help him.

"I've no time to explain," Harry said, "that is, other than it's in a cave in the middle of nowhere. Ron, watch over Malfoy for me," he repeated his request in a pleading voice.

"But I've got..." Ron exasperatedly pointed at the papers that covered the entire table in front of them.

"With Dumbledore away, it will be the perfect chance for him to do something stupid. Again," Harry grit through his teeth. Ron frowned, but he knew his friend had a point there. He yielded after a moment, nodding, and sent out a quick prayer to Merlin in hope that McGonagall won't flay him for not completing the assignment.

"Thanks, mate," Harry said, relieved, and the gratitude cheered Ron up, if only a bit. "I've got to go," he nodded to them both and turned to leave, when he felt Hermione grab his hand.

"Promise me that you won't do anything stupid," she demanded over a badly concealed shudder as she tugged hard at his sleeve. Harry looked into her wide eyes and saw her fear, but there was no helping it.

"I won't. Don't worry," he said in sympathy and leaned down to embrace her. He buried his face into the chaos that her hair was, inhaling deeply, thinking to himself that the fruity scent of her shampoo would probably be the best thing to bring back to memory in case he was to die tonight.

"Dumbledore already made me promise to do everything he tells me. That should be more than good enough for you," he said with his lips by her ear and gave her a small kiss there, the excess of affection safely shielded from Ron's eyes by her unruly mane. She shivered again as he released her and both of the boys heard her sniffle gently.

And while Hermione's reaction to situations such as this one was general panic, Ron masked his fear with annoyance.

"Bloody hell, Mione, they are only going to fetch a Horcrux, not march into Malfoy's manor to have a grand battle with the ugly snake and his stupid army," Ron said as he scrambled to his feet in order to help Harry free himself from what was becoming a suffocating embrace.

"Please don't fret too much," Hermione's shoulders slumped at Harry's gentle murmur as he gave her another kiss, on her temple this time, and in the next moment he was already walking away and unfolding his cloak in order to disappear from sight. He didn't stop to turn around. He wanted to, but he felt the potion starting to kick in at its full strength.

It was telling him that his friends would be alright.

Both Ron and Hermione were silent as they waited for Harry's return, but Hermione's silence was of the brooding type as opposed to Ron's, who looked more resigned than anything else.

For the first time since the Golden trio was formed, Harry left both his friends behind and headed into danger by himself. There were times when one or both had to stay behind, but this was the first time they were knowingly left behind, sitting on a sofa in front of the fireplace with their mugs of cocoa and homework scattered around them. They knew they couldn't help him, but simply being aware of it didn't make them feel any better. They wanted to be involved because that's how the Golden trio worked. It's what they were used to after six long years of mischief and disobedience.

More than an hour passed since Harry left. Some of the charmed candles have gone out - the castle's signal to the remaining students that it's bedtime - and the light in the room grew fainter, which added to the ominous atmosphere. The grandfather clock behind them rang eleven times, its chimes leaving no echo in the room, but just hearing the sound break the eerie silence sent unwelcome shivers up their spines.

Ron had the Map in his lap and his gaze glued to it, because even though he thought the information on Malfoy's whereabouts to be useless without knowing what he was actually up to, he knew that Harry was counting on him. Hermione, lying next to him, had a book in her lap but no patience to read it, and instead occupied herself by staring at Ron's profile, her mind clouded with worry.

Even though she was wrapped in a thick golden blanket that made her look like an oversized dragon egg, she stuck her feet under the redhead's thigh in search of even more warmth. Feeling her discomfort, Ron reached for her leg and started stroking it over the blanket.

"Mione," he started with a sigh, not looking up from the Map, "he drank half a flask of Felix Felicis in front of our eyes. He'll be fine," he tried to comfort her, "and he's with Dumbledore," he added. For him this was argument enough, but he knew that she wouldn't be calm even if Harry were out there with the entire Order.

"They aren't going to battle, they just need to collect Voldemort's cursed earrings or something," he snickered.

"But you've seen Dumbledore's hand," Hermione groaned as she shuffled to lean on her forearms. She appreciated Ron's efforts, but the Headmaster looked as if he couldn't hold his wand lately, let alone use it.

"Even he can get careless. He's probably a lot weaker now due to that injury. And there is only so much luck one can have when fighting the darkest magic in the world."

Ron turned to her, letting the Map fall limp over his thighs. Screw Malfoy for the moment, he thought. Hermione needed him and that took precedence. He looked at her with his innocent, trusting blue eyes, but from his half-smile she could tell that he wasn't even half as worried as she was. She leaned into his body and put her head on his shoulder, gorging on the feel of his strong arms pulling her in an embrace.

After the Ministry battle, awkwardness from close physical contact was gone in times of fright. After being through so much blood and dirt together, that was the last straw to make them lose almost all sense of propriety.

Last year Ron held her half-naked body in his arms, had the blood flow from her bare chest all over him after Dolohov's curse tore her open. It was him that carried her all the way to the atrium and Flooed her to St Mungo's. When they reached the Healing wards, Lupin and Kingsley had to pry her from his arms in order to allow the Healers to get to her. So on a night such as this it felt only natural to ignore any thought of embarrassment and huddle together.

Ron had Quidditch practice a few hours ago so he smelled like the Quidditch pitch, like grass and wood and oil, and she felt just a bit better when his masculine scent surrounded her. Knowing that Ron was there to hold her calmed her a bit while she imagined the various terrors that might be out there, trying to kill Harry that very moment.

She had no way of knowing that Harry was battling Inferi at the same time Ron was telling her that he was safe.

"But it's the darkest magic, Ron," she whispered into the crook of his neck. "There is nothing more dangerous that those monstrosities of his. And there must be at least one Horcrux that he's kept safer than the others," she said, but Ron just closed his eyes, shaking his head.

"You're not the only one that's worried," he murmured, and though he didn't mean to sound exasperated, it's how it unfortunately came out. But by the time he realised it, the damage had already been done.

"I'm sorry," she flinched as she slid from the embrace and got up to her feet, leaving Ron feeling guilty on the couch.

Hermione could still feel her skin tingle on the places where Harry kissed her. She turned to look at the clock and decided that too much time has passed. Far too much. Harry was officially late.

"I'm going for a walk," she declared and started hunting for her shoes, ignoring Ron's deepening frown. He didn't want her to leave, and he especially didn't want her wondering the castle with Malfoy still on the loose. She disappeared from his sight for a moment as she kneeled to look for the shoes under the sofa.

"You know, I love the times when you forget that you're a witch and go full Muggle on us," he snorted as he stared at the cracked ceiling with half a mind to just grab her and forcefully pull her back onto the couch with him.

"And what do you mean by that?" came her muffled reply.

"Accio shoes!" Ron invoked the spell, waving his wand half-heartedly, and he heard the shoes move and stop in front of Hermione's feet.

"That's what I mean," he said, feeling quite smug for a moment.

Unlike Harry who, since he found out that magic exists, became entirely dependent on it whenever he was allowed to use it, Hermione's mind reverted to that of a Muggle when under enough stress. More than once have Harry and Ron found her jumping up and down in the library, trying to grab a book that was out of her reach when exams were near, instead of just Accioing it. It always made for a good laugh for the boys.

"Thank you," she said gently.

"What if someone sees you?"

"I'll tell Filch I'm on patrol if I see him," she answered after she'd given it a moment's thought. "And if I come across some of the other Prefects, I'll just say that I thought I was on duty. Something stupid like that." She finally turned to look at him and noticed that he looked like a kicked puppy. She half expected him to whine and beg her to stay.

"I'll go mad if I don't walk around for a bit," she said, biting her lower lip. She meant it.

"You've gone mad a long time ago, Mione," Ron said in a small voice as he looked at her, and she felt his blue eyes pierce her. It was a new habit of his, staring at her in a way that made her feel quite naked.

She felt that the boy who she once knew to have the emotional range of a teaspoon was changing fast and in a way that unnerved her. He became much more observant lately than was to her liking - because it was herselfhe was observing, more often than not. She noticed it all, even though she never said a word about it. She picked up the fallen map and gave it back to him so that she wouldn't have to respond to his queer statement.

Ron went back to dutifully studying the map as soon as she put it in his arms, holding it up like a newspaper.

"Where's Draco?" she asked timidly, hoping that the blond Slytherin had gone back to his dorm so that there wouldn't be a chance of running into him. Though a part of her did wish to see whether his cheeks have sunken even more, or if the dark circles under his eyes turned a deeper shade of purple.

"Draco?" Ron spat out the name, lifting himself up to his elbows as his face twisted in disgust.

"Malfoy," Hermione groaned impatiently, rolling her eyes at the slip.

"Calling him by his name now? Mione, for fuck's sake!" Ron shouted, anger boiling within him in a matter of seconds. He instantly regretted it, seeing her eyes closing tight and her mouth pursing. This was an old fight. He fought for calm and tried again.

"Mione," he started with a loud exhale. "I understand that he's in a very shitty position this year, but he is not one of the house elves to be pitied. Or saved! Katie is alive only because she was lucky. I am alive only because I was lucky. I would be dead if Harry wasn't by my side when I drank the git's poison. Which he, let's not forget, intended for Dumbledore to drink! Did you forget that was two months ago?"

"I know! But haven't you seen him lately?" she asked pointedly with a deep frown of discontent. "He's desperate. His actions are a cry for help, as he obviously hasn't slept or eaten properly for months."

Ron signed. He'd noticed it all too, it's just that it'd invoked no sympathy in him. "Look at me," he said, gentler than before. Hermione complied, though she met his gaze as if they were standing across a battlefield.

"He's not another pet project of yours, Mione," he said, reaching for her wrist and giving it a squeeze.

Hermione knew full well that Ron had a good point. It's just that she hadn't given up hope that something could be done to help Draco Malfoy, and by doing that – to help Harry.

"He would probably sooner use an Unforgivable on you than accept your help. Don't you think Dumbledore would have brought him over already if it was possible for him to have a change of heart?"

Hermione sighed, shaking her head. This was a discussion for another time. "I don't really care about Malfoy at the moment, Ron. I care about Harry, who is still not back. I feel like jumping out of my own skin," she said, wrapping her arms around her shoulders as if to hold off a chill.

"Hey, come here," Ron invited her for an embrace, now regretting fully that he'd raised his voice. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have shouted like that."

"No," she said, waving his hand away. She knew she'd fall apart if she accepted him and she had no intention of Harry coming back and seeing her face red and puffy.

"No, you're right," she said with a forced smile, "I have been making too big of a victim out of him. I'm fine. Check where Malfoy is, please," she said, her voice gentle, hoping that he didn't think he had upset her too much. He, too, was worried about Harry; there was no need for him to be worried about her as well, she thought. Ron sighed and did what she asked of him.

"Be careful. He is still in the Room of Requirement. I mean, most likely, I don't see him anywhere else," Ron said, folding over the map in his lap.

"I'll be careful," Hermione patted him on the shoulder, glad that the dispute had been settled, and drew up a brave smile for the frustrated boy before walking away.

Ron sighed as she left, having been left to fret over both Harry andher in his silent, unmoving way. He couldn't blame her, but he was worried too, despite all the things he said. Still, that did not make him take his eyes off the map. He stared at the wretched thing, idly turning its pages and listening to the crackling of wood in the fire and the ticks of the clock-hands behind him. He thought it a very pointless activity, an opinion he voiced many times during the year. He decided that after he confirmed that Malfoy returned to his dormitory he would abandon the map and get back to his homework. That should be enough for Harry.

It was only ten minutes after Hermione left that he saw Malfoy's name reappear on the map. He relaxed for a moment, thinking that the babysitting was soon over, but he felt his world turn upside down when next to the blond git's name appeared the names of five Death Eaters.

"Fuck!" He shouted, springing up to his feet.

For a fraction of a moment, the only thought in Ron's mind was that he would never hear the end of it from Harry, before the weight of the danger everyone was in settled itself on his chest.

His heart started beating at an erratic pace as he bolted for the portrait hole with the map still in hand, but froze in front of it, not actually knowing what he was supposed to do next. He knew he needed to sound the alarm, but who was there to tell?

Harry was gone. Dumbledore was gone. He had no idea where Hermione was, though he franticly turned the pages of the map, trying to find her name. It showed up once in one of the corners but he overlooked it in his panic.

Professor McGonagall!

He didn't see the name on the map, but instead it lit up in his mind like a beacon. An Order member! She will know what to do, he thought.

He knew it would take him less than a minute to reach her office if he ran to her at full speed, and with the way the Death Eaters still haven't moved from the spot where he first saw them, they weren't likely to intercept him.

He shoved the map into his back pocket and started running as though the hounds of hell were snipping at his heels.