Warning: Things are getting a bit more brutal. Death of minors and helplessness.


He was so busy cross-referencing between that old book he'd found in the Black library and the research magazine Hermione had given him a week prior, Harry completely missed the knock on his door.

"Harry? Harry! Hey, are you asleep?"

Looking up, he saw a familiar redhead coming in. "Oh... Ginny? Hi! What... how did you get here?"

"The Floo?" She rolled her eyes as she sat down on his bed. "Honestly, Harry."

He glanced at the magazine, then Ginny again, and decided he wouldn't get any more reading done anyway. "I hope Sirius didn't make a fool out of himself."

"There was an insinuating comment about the number of girls visiting you in your room these days, now that you mention it." She frowned at him. "What did he mean by that, exactly?"

"I don't know, you'd have to ask him, Ginny." Harry sighed. "Now, what can I do for you?"

"How's your leg?"

He touched his left knee. "Fine, actually. It just itches occasionally."

"I'm glad." She smiled at him.

"Ginny?"

"Why won't you come to the Burrow as we planned at the beginning of the holidays? My family would love to have you over. We could do so many things, play Quidditch, go swimming..." She waved with her hand, encompassing his sparsely furnished room. "Instead you brood in this old house all day long, that is, when you're not talking Merlin knows what for hours on end with Dumbledore or Sirius or Remus or whomever."

"Well, I..."

She raised a finger. "I'm not finished, Harry."

He stopped and observed her closely. She had a tan and the freckles on her cheeks and nose were more prominent. The tips of her hair were sun-bleached and had turned almost blonde. Ginny looked like... like summer, really. She looked great.

"What is it?" He had a feeling that knew what she was going to needle him about. Ginny's brown eyes were locked onto him and for a moment Harry had a feeling of vertigo as if the young woman sitting in front of him didn't have red hair but wild, brown curls... But the eyes he was seeing now would have had a subtle amber sheen, especially in the low light of his room.

"What is up with Hermione and my brother? And why is she in on most of these talks you're having, but we're not?" She crossed her arms in front of her chest now. It was a cute look, but it... felt a bit manufactured, if he was honest with himself. "What is going on?"

"Hermione is part of all this because she'd directly involved, Ginny. She knows more about spells and history than some of our professors do. And she saved our asses more than once in the past few years, mine especially."

The redhead huffed. "It's because she's a werewolf, right? Because she's useful to have around in a fight?"

Harry felt sudden anger rise up from his stomach. For once, he didn't feel inclined to moderate himself. "The fuck is wrong with you, Ginny?" He stood up, leaving her flabbergasted as he started pacing. "I've heard some pretty cruel things from the students at Hogwarts about her, and now you too? Really? Is that simple jealousy, or is it a Pure-blood thing?"

"Harry, what in Merlin's name... "

"You don't get to play that card, Ginny! You made it clear how you think about her, just as Ron has with his constant flinching in her presence. I've just about had it with you people making Hermione feel like shit about herself all the time!" He paused in front ot a pale spot on the wall where another cursed painting had been hanging right before they'd partially refurbished this room. "If you dislike her that much, you're free to leave."

"Just what is she to you, Harry? I suspected Ron was trying to be with her for the longest time, but that ship clearly has sailed, thank Merlin." Ginny's voice was getting louder, too.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

She laughed and it sounded cruel. "Please don't tell me you actually enjoy having her around. She's a bossy know-it-all, and she's mean to everyone who disagrees with her."

Harry stared at her in disbelief and shock. "Do you really believe that trash-talking like that in front of me is getting you a date or something, Ginny?"

Her bravado crumbled instantly, but she still gave him an angry look as tears ran down her face. "We were supposed to be together, Harry. This summer, next summer, and then... "

"Then what? What, Ginny? You're having this all thought out, haven't you? If only my bothersome best friend weren't in the picture? Are you listening to yourself? You can't force someone to be with you."

"Your best friend is my brother, Harry, in case you forgot. And Hermione? Do you fancy her now, Harry? Why are you so focused on her all of a sudden?"

He almost started another round of heated exchange but stopped himself as he imagined a familiar hand on his shoulder, belonging to someone who wouldn't like seeing him like this. So he wouldn't be.

"Stop."

Ginny wiped her eyes and waited for him to say something.

"I'll try and make this as clear to you as I did to Dumbledore, Ginny." That got her attention. "Hermione Granger is the most important person in my life. Not Ron, not you, not your family, not even Sirius. It's Hermione, and it has been like that for years. Nobody has been with me no matter what, be it Voldemort or evil members of the Ministry, or ancient curses, no matter what."

He saw that she was beginning to cry now but he didn't much care. "What did you do, when everyone believed I was Slytherin's heir? What did you do when everyone said I had ordered those Dementors to attack during the Triwizard Tournament? When the Room of Requirement got out of control, and we were all trapped in the castle? You know who stood by my side every single time, Ginny? Want to make a wild guess?"

She sniffed. "That's not fair, Harry. I had no way of knowing what was going on at the time."

"Neither had she, but that didn't stop her from believing in me. And that, Ginny, is the difference between you and her. Between all of you, and her. To you, I'm Harry Potter, the icon. To her..."

Ginny looked almost fearful now.

"To her, I'm just Harry."

"I... didn't mean it like that, Harry. Please, let me explain..."

"No, I don't think that's a good idea." He stepped out of his still-opened door. "Sirius? I know you've been listening. Ginny will leave now, please see her out. And next time I'm getting ambushed like this, I'm going to hex your old bones!"


Tea in the Headmaster's office always felt like an effort, Harry reflected. Chances were you either left angry and confused, or just confused.

"Why hasn't the DMLE contacted any of us yet? I know it's not something the Ministry wants to touch at all, but now that there are all these verifiable accounts of Pettigrew being well and alive... how can they keep letting Sirius' unlawful imprisonment just lie around in a file? I'd hoped some of the older families would be all over that."

Dumbledore smiled a patient smile. "Oh, they very much take an interest in the revelation that Sirius is innocent of the crimes he's accused of, Harry."

"Then why does it feel as if nothing is happening? I am sick and tired of him having simply exchanged one prison for another." He stared into his cup. "Or that I can never go see him when I want, but when someone's there to keep watch."

"I am sorry for that, Harry." Dumbledore sighed as he absently stirred his own tea. "A lot is happening right now, actually, but most of it is well-hidden from the public eye. We need to be very careful because there is much that hangs in the balance and a simple wrong move on our part could spell disaster in the long run."

Harry grunted. "But we are doing something, right? Please tell me you do more than just observe."

The old man looked at him over the rim of his teacup, and there was a bit more steel in those blue eyes now. "At the risk of confusing our current topic with another one, may I ask how you've been recently, Harry? It seems your leg has healed marvelously. How's your sleep?"

"I'm fine."

The responding silence made it clear to Harry that he wouldn't get off that easily.

"There are no nightmares, at least nothing beyond the occasional glimpse into Voldemort's mind. If you're hoping that I changed my stance on what happened in the Department of Mysteries though, ... don't. Because I didn't."

"That is a dangerous road you're walking right now, Harry."

He snorted in disgust. "More dangerous than letting my friends die? More of them, that is? To what, feel better about my choices if not the outcome when I look into a mirror? Try telling Hermione that. I'd like to watch when you do."

Dumbledore nodded, but there'd been a moment of hesitation. "I see that it bothers you, which is good. Because there are some who claim that the violence seen during that encounter is only a beginning, and that you might follow Voldemort's footsteps after all."

"Ha! And who's saying that? No, let me guess, the fucking Death Eaters who're still sitting in the Wizengamot because of course they are."

"Language, Harry. Please." The Headmaster turned his empty cup around in his hands, his eyes still locked onto Harry.

"Sorry."

Another moment of silence followed.

"Is there something we can do to make the DMLE start investigating Sirius? We need to act, Dumbledore. I need can't just sit around any longer!"

The Headmaster pondered this, seemingly giving it a serious thought. "How much money do you have in your private vault right now, Harry?"

That question was not what he'd expected, and he floundered. "Er... well... I don't... around 2,700 Galleons or so? I'm rarely using any of it."

Dumbledore was smiling now, smirking even. Harry felt it wasn't solely directed at him though but at something, or rather someone, not present in the Headmaster's office. "How do you feel about investing 1,000 of those Galleons, Harry? You might have given me an idea."

Harry lowered his teacup and groaned slightly. Sometimes, he hated being right.


"Close the door, Hermione. I need to show you something."

She complied and sat down on the empty chair with a quiet smile. "Does it have anything to do with that Horcrux you're hiding in your desk?"

Harry wasn't surprised per se, yet it still astonished him how much she noticed these days. "You know, I'm not even going to ask. Bloody hell."

She chuckled, which was a rare occurrence nowadays, especially considering the serious topic they were about to discuss. He watched her glance at the drawer he'd hidden the locket in, trying to imagine what it must be like to pick up so many clues from your environment. Or people. She had been shy the past few weeks when confronted with groups of people, but every time someone had tried to put her on the spot, she'd played those fools like a fiddle.

It made him feel a variety of things, attraction being just one of them. "So, remember the talk we had with Kreacher a few weeks ago? When you grilled him about what he'd tried to do to destroy it?" Harry slowly opened the drawer and removed the folded piece of cloth he'd covered the necklace with.

"Of course, Harry. I've been trying to find out more ever since, but I fear we'd need access to the Ministry's archives to learn more at this point. Certain books have been removed from the Hogwarts Library and I... I'm stumped." She appeared to be crestfallen.

"Not for much longer, maybe." He dropped the Horcrux on the table but didn't remove his other hand fast enough. As it slipped out of the cloth, it touched his ring finger and caused him to shiver slightly.

Hermione's reaction meanwhile was more extreme.

She jumped out of her chair and snarled at the Horcrux. Her eyes had that bright sheen that signaled the rise of her inner wolf. Her nails were growing sharper, too. "What was that, Harry?"

He swallowed. "I touched it with my hand, accidentally. It's uncomfortable, but it doesn't possess someone instantly as we suspected earlier."

She looked at him, and he saw her fighting the impulse to rip the evil piece of jewelry apart, or at least try to do so.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you like that... was it that bad?"

She nodded, but the motion was jerky. "There was a presence there when you touched it, for a split-second only. Something that felt like... him. Rotten, corrupted, just... dark. I thought it would come out of the locket like a wraith." She reached out and let her hand hover over the Horcrux. "Please don't... touch it, Harry. Not ever, if possible."

"I won't." He carefully closed his hand around hers and gently pushed it away from the locket. They exchanged a glance, and he smiled at her, seeing the wolf slowly disappear. He liked to imagine that he was one of the few people who would be able to see these subtle changes in her in the first place. Maybe even the only one.

"Good." She sat down again and exhaled. "Now, what did you find out that makes you think it'll help our research?"


It had taken six years for Harry to reflect that not everyone enjoyed the Hogwarts train as much as he did. He'd always loved the ride, to be taken away from the Dursleys toward the Wizarding World, and to have time to let that very fact sink in. Sure, there'd always been Malfoy and his goons or altercations with some other students when the Daily Prophet had denounced him. But one very painful encounter aside, those arseholes had never managed to spoil the whole thing. Neither had Voldemort. The train still always felt like... the beginning of an adventure of sorts.

Not so much for Hermione, it seemed. Not anymore.

While Professor McGonagall had seen fit to take away her Time-Turner, something he very much wanted to yell at his Head of House for, his best friend was still a prefect. At least on paper, because in reality some people either ignored her or acted as if she either was Hogwarts' resident bully or a leper. It was infuriating to watch, and he could only imagine how she must feel.

When Hermione had returned from the prefect's carriage, with Ron following a few steps behind, she'd been furious and hurt about something. He didn't know if there'd been an outright fight or of the Head Girl, a position he'd assumed Hermione to have this year, had just said something nasty. There'd been that amber sheen in Hermione's eyes upon return, her shoulders hunched in defeat. She'd excused herself immediately to make rounds, on her own.

Now he was alone with Ron, and it was awkward. Neville had been asked by the Hufflepuffs to help out with Herbology homework, and Luna had wandered off to Merlin knew were on the train. Ginny hadn't even looked at them at King's Cross station.

The tall redhead finally sat down again opposite Harry. "Look, mate..."

"Oh, we're mates again? I didn't know. Your last letter certainly didn't sound like it."

Ron lowered his gaze to the floor. "I was pissed because Ginny was crying so much after she came back from your... from Sirius. You broke her heart, Harry. Mum's too."

"She did it herself, Ron. She didn't ask me to visit you guys, she demanded it. Had this elaborate plan about what we'd do. Dragged Hermione through the mud as well."

They stared at each other, and he could see that Ron was trying to work through his brotherly protectiveness and actually listen to him. This meant it was a serious matter for Ron because he tended to go off like a cracker when Ginny was involved. Or awkward relationship stuff. "Did you and Hermione like... hook up or something? Behind my back?"

Harry snorted. "Merlin, that figures... no, we didn't. We're the same as we've always been, Ron."

"Please, who's talking shit now? Ever since she was bitten, you two are basically attached at the hip as if she's lured you. Ginny was right."

"Was she now? Like you were right to call me out as The Master of Death after that Dementor incident? But sure, believe Gin's vindictive gossip, by all means."

The Redhead was standing now. "You don't talk about my sister like that!"

Harry fought the impulse to smash his former friend's head through the compartment's door and remained sitting. "But talking like that about Hermione is okay, then? Do you even realize what a hypocrite you are? Everyone's fair game, except your sweet innocent sister?"

"This isn't about her. It's about you and me, Harry!"

"First it was about Ginny, then Hermione, now it's about us. Ron, do you even know what you're so angry about?"

"Fuck you!" Ron was raising a fist now. "You can be as smug as you want, but you're not better than me, Harry."

He moved his tongue around in his mouth a few times before answering. Some inane advice for de-escalating a situation he'd picked up a while ago since one's forced to literally chew on their words before saying them. It seemed a good opportunity to try it out. "Well, I'm certainly a better friend to her than you are. Ginny's failed attempt to declare herself my girlfriend is just the perfect excuse for you to blow off, isn't it? To validate your own shitty behavior toward Hermione prior to the holidays? Go on, yell at me for being a spoiled arse with money and fame and her being a swotty know-it-all. Like we haven't heard that before, both from you and from Malfoy."

Knowingly or not, Ron imitated him and moved his chin left and right before answering. "So you did everything right, Harry? The-Boy-Who-Lived doesn't do blunders?"

"I'm as broken on the inside now as I was back in third year, if not more so, you wanker. When have I ever claimed to be right all the time?" He shook his head. "If I hadn't missed Remus twice, she wouldn't have been bitten. So, no, I did plenty wrong."

"Could have fooled me, Harry. You certainly act like we're all just revolving around you and her, dismissing my sister like a bothersome insect and ditching me the instant Hermione has a problem that goes beyond an unfinished Arithmancy essay. What a friend you are."

Harry almost physically felt the few remaining threads of friendship connecting him and Ron sizzle and burn. "You were there when she was bitten, man. Same as me. You saw how much she was suffering, and you could've visited her anytime, approached her, or offered to help. She certainly would have liked that, you know? You acting as if she's contagious had her crying more than once."

"I already was the third wheel by that point, and you know it. She didn't want my pity, and I didn't want hers. Or yours." Ron sat down again. "And I may sound like an arsehole right now, but Harry... she is contagious. One bite, that's it."

He wanted to pull his own hair in frustration. Why was it seemingly impossible to make Ron understand his point of view? "I thought we stick together, always. Remus is still welcome in the Burrow, is he not?"

"He's not the one I have issues with, you guys are." Ron crossed his arms and let his head fall back. "Bloody hell. This might be it, then, right?"

He gave Ron a level look. "Probably. Hermione is the most important person in my life, Ron. Make of that what you want. But if you walk away now, that's on you. I don't want you to, but I won't stop you either."

They watched each in silence other as the landscape raced by the compartment's window.


Hermione had missed all of their classes today, and now Harry was worrying.

She hadn't been a werewolf long enough to establish a thorough routine for the days when a full moon rose, especially in school... yet it felt strange to him. Despite the effects of the Wolfsbane Potion, he'd expected her to at least make an appearance in the common room, or at breakfast. But Lavender had told him that Hermione had switched beds from the girl's dormitory to her special room, for the first time ever.

That didn't sound right to him.

After Professor Slughorn finally released them from Potions at the end of the day, Harry ran to the Great Hall and stuffed himself with a quick dinner. When Ron and the others arrived, he was already finished. With a few equally hasty excuses, he proceeded to the Hogwarts kitchens to ask the house-elves for a bowl of chicken soup, then hurried toward Gryffindor tower.

Standing in front of the door that he knew to be magically reinforced and sound-proofed, he hesitated. He needed to respect her privacy if that was what she really wanted and not be a creep, no matter his own feelings. She was too important to...

"Come in, Harry." Her voice was muffled.

With a smile, he carefully opened the room. "Hermione? Sorry to disturb you. Are you all right?"

"I'm decent. Close the door, please. Is that chicken soup?"

Curious about this room he'd never seen from the inside, Harry looked around. It was about a third the size of the boy's dormitory, with a large bed, a few cupboards and cabinets, and two narrow but high windows. Also, a small bathroom near the door he'd just come through. If he wasn't mistaken, he was standing inside one of Gryffindor tower's massive turrets now. "Wow, prefects had it pretty good back in the day, eh? This is so cool..."

Hermione smiled weakly from her bed. Crookshanks was lying on the edge of her blanket, a ball of quietly purring fur. "I'm glad you approve of the werewolf lodgings."

"I do, very much." He came over to her and placed the soup on her nightstand. "Are you hungry at all?"

Her skin was pale, a few strands of hair sticking to her forehead. "I don't think so." She looked miserable.

"Should I put it away? The smell?"

"No, it's okay, Harry. Leave it there." She shifted under her blanket and winced.

It caused Harry almost physical pain to see her like that. He knelt by her bedside. "Talk to me, Hermione. What's wrong? Do you need Madame Promfrey to be here?"

She shook her head and reached out to grab one of his hands. Her skin was hot. "Thank you, but no. I'm fine."

"Hermione... "

"It's not what you think. The Wolfsbane Potion didn't cause this, Harry, not solely. I'll always feel bad when a full moon is up, though. You know that."

He nodded. "But this isn't... normal. Right?"

She smiled tiredly and shifted a bit closer to the edge of her mattress. "It's cute when you're worrying like that, but it's nothing, Harry."

A flash of anger came over him and he felt embarrassed because he knew she'd notice it immediately. It was strange that she could read him so thoroughly like that, much more clearly than she'd always been able to. He should feel disadvantaged or handicapped. Instead, he felt... safe. Yet, still angry. "Don't say it's nothing when it's clearly something, Hermione. And you don't have to explain to me. But after chewing me out for over six years for lying when I'm hurt, I... don't like you doing the same."

She looked at him intently, one of her eyes hidden behind her hair. "It sucks being on my side of things for once, doesn't it?"

"It does. You really should smack my head more often."

"I'll take that under advisement, Mister Potter."

"Wise-arse." He tried to smile but it came out as more of a frown. He wasn't good at hiding his emotions from her. "Sorry, I'm just worried."

Hermione sighed. "Okay, Mister I-Need-To-Know. Not that it's any of your business, really, but... well, I'm having my period."

Harry felt overwhelmed by the fact that she would share something as intimate as that, and with him. Years of overhearing couples arguing in the castle, often in not-so-private spots, had taught him that this was almost a taboo. Girls talked about it, but only amongst themselves.

"Don't freak out, Harry, please..."

He blinked. "I'm not! It's not that, Hermione, I know... we... the boys had lessons with Professor McGonagall, same as you girls, I suspect. And I read stuff. How bad it can be for some women. I am so sorry, Hermione. The full moon probably doesn't help, right?"

She shook her head. "It doesn't", she whispered. "My skin feels like I'm covered in chili powder and my gums hurt and there's this tugging pain... I hate it, Harry."

"Can I do anything?"

"There's nothing to be done. It needs to run its course."

He tried to calm himself. Feeling this... impotent in the face of her suffering was worse than a Cruciatus. Knowing it to be a stupid sentiment, he'd nonetheless imagined changing places with her if it would be at all possible. Probably to regret it instantly. "Okay. I'll let you sleep then, Hermione. Do you want me to check up on you later?"

"Yes, please."

But as he tried to stand up and walk away, she didn't let go of his hand. "Hermione?" He could see her working herself up to another question, probably a question related to her suppressed werewolf transformation that he couldn't even begin to imagine.

"Harry..." Her voice was so low he'd almost missed it.

"Yes?"

"Would you... would you mind staying here?" She removed her hand from his and hid her face. "I don't want to be... please, can you stay?"

His breath hitched as his emotional Cruciatus increased tenfold. "Anything, Hermione. Of course."

But as he tried to sit down on the floor beside her bed, her gaze made him stop. A tear was running down her cheek, stopping briefly on every faint scar line that lycanthropy had brought before it dropped onto the pillow. "Up... here?"

"Oh." Her look became timider at his bewilderment, and he wanted to bite his stupid tongue and strangle his bumbling and insecure self for always acting like a deer in headlights when someone reached out to him like that. When she did. "I'll just remove my robe and my trainers, okay?"

She silently watched him as he also slipped out of his shirt, which felt way too stuffy all of a sudden.

Carefully, he laid slipped under the blanket on the other side of the bed. "Is this okay?"

Hermione didn't answer. Instead, she turned around and scooted over to him. Before he knew what had happened, she was snuggling up to his side, her head on his chest. He noticed that she was holding an enchanted cold pack to her abdomen. Her body was burning hot though, for non-werewolves it would probably be an almost lethal fever.

"I'm gross right now, sorry for that", she mumbled.

He put an arm around her. "You're not gross."

"But I'm all sweaty."

Harry chuckled and lowered his nose into her hair. "Nope, don't smell no sweat or anything." In fact, she smelled nice, he thought.

"Shut up and let me listen to your heartbeat, Harry."

He breathed deeply. "All right."

They lay there in quietly for a few minutes, and Harry grew more comfortable with his current situation. It should feel awkward and strange and probably inappropriate to be so intimate with Hermione, but he couldn't find it in him to feel any of those things. He worried about her, sure, but now that she hadn't sent him away... he liked being with her. To provide a small amount of comfort.

"Harry?"

"Hm?"

She shifted slightly and pulled his arm tighter around herself. "Tell me something. Something nobody else knows."

His first idea was to conjure up one of the more whimsical memories of their first year at Hogwarts, but he dismissed it immediately. She was serious and so he needed to give her a thought he'd never tell anyone else. There wasn't anything particularly happy that came to mind though, at least nothing he dared to say out loud. "I kind of gave up hope... to ever be with Sirius... as a family like I want to."

"Why, Harry?"

"Because we believed we'd achieved a victory before the summer when we caught Pettigrew, but nothing has happened. The Ministry still has its head buried in the sand, Sirius is still declared a fugitive, and I'm still stuck. Or following plans I'm not told in full. So, looking back at the previous years, I'm terrified because I don't see why suddenly, this time, I would get what I actually hope for instead of losing yet once more and seeing people I care about die." He closed his eyes. "Listen to me whining about missing out on a permanent flatshare with my godfather, while you... "

"No, I asked you. You need your dreams, Harry. I want you to have all of that, and more. To be happy." She twitched suddenly, which made him flinch in response. "Sorry, sometimes I cramp", she whispered.

"It's okay, Hermione. I just wasn't... " He cleared his throat. "What about you, then? Your dreams?"

She moved her head slightly lower, away from his voice. "I don't... I'm not..."

Harry hugged her before she could finish the sentence. He didn't want to hear whatever self-hatred lived inside her, to have her give it a voice. His inner Gryffindor was kicking and screaming at him right now, and for once, Harry decided to just let that imaginary brave part of him have its moment. "Do you want to know another secret, Hermione?"

She nodded into his chest.

"I like Hogwarts. I like being back here, despite all our problems. I like Neville. Luna. All the others. Maybe even Ron, I think."

Hermione's hold of his arm increased suddenly, almost painfully so, and he felt her entire body cramp up as a wave of pain or nausea ran through her. He waited until she relaxed again, and her heartbeat seemed to match his own again. His head felt light all of a sudden. One of her fingers was drawing circles onto the back of his hand, but he suspected she wasn't doing it consciously.

"But you? I... love you, Hermione. Nobody else, only you."

She threaded her fingers with his and started to sob quietly, but this time, it didn't feel like sorrow.


Harry dodged the curse sent his way easily. The Death Eater was too far away and telegraphing his every attack, so none of his spells came as a surprise. Still, he didn't want to prolong this duel when people were screaming and falling all around him.

Continuing his evasive momentum, Harry whirled around and knelt down in one fluid motion. "Expelliarmus! Petrificus Totalus!"

He hit the other man in the chest and blasted him off his feet, his body suddenly stiff. He probably didn't deserve to live, but they needed answers once the carnage was over. "Incarcerous!"

There was no time to feel anything over his victory though because the attack on Hogsmeade wasn't over yet. Harry saw a group of third-year students huddle behind one of the houses on the other side of the street. Problem was, there were at least two other killers somewhere on that side of the street. "Hey, you!" he yelled and waved. "Get over here! I'll cover you!"

He sent a string of spells toward some of the adjacent alleyways to provide suppressive fire. "Go, go!" he yelled.

The students, first unsure what to do, darted across the street and hunkered down close to the house behind him. Harry fired a few more blasts before he joined them. "Is everyone okay?"

"They... they killed Mia", one of the boys said. His face was caked with grime and tears. "We just ran away."

"It's not your fault, you'd have died as well. Do me a favor and stay here, yes? I'll try and cast a repelling charm."

They nodded, staring at him with frightened eyes as he cast the spell two times around them. He winced as his mind suddenly tried to convince him to go elsewhere right now. "But if one of those Death Eaters notices you, you sent everything you have his way, you hear me? Your most powerful stunners, all at once. Don't move from this position, I'll come back and get you. Me or someone from the DA."

"We'll stay here, Harry." The boy wiped his face with a sleeve and raised his wand slightly.

He nodded one final time. "Good."

Running along the edge of Hogsmeade's main street, Harry disabled another Death Eater and saw the corpses of two students before he reached the square before the Three Broomsticks Inn. Seamus, Michael, and a few others were keeping three attackers in check, supported by a few brave members of the townsfolk. When he saw one older woman screaming on the ground after one of the Death Eaters hit her with a Cruciatus, he didn't hesitate.

"Reducto!" The man's back exploded with a wet crunch.

But before he could utilize the confusion he's caused, he was violently thrown off his feet and tumbled across the square like a pebble on water. Someone had blasted him from the side, luckily not with anything that pierced flesh. Harry picked himself up with a cough and clenched teeth because he'd at least broken a few of his robs. Two Death Eaters had replaced the one he'd killed, probably the pair he'd seen vanish between the houses earlier. Wiping the blood from his mouth, he readied himself to engage again, but Hermione was quicker.

He saw her landing on top of one of the newcomers, flattening him with a sickening crunch as her fingernails dug into his jugular. She must've jumped from a nearby roof, and it was clear she had shifted. Her eyes were almost orange now, and there was blood all over her face and her hands. That didn't stop her from using her wand tough, and another Death Eater was swept away by a sudden wave of water that flung him against Honeydukes' storefront.

Seeing several loose cobblestones on the pavement, the collateral damage of earlier jinxes and hexes, Harry decided to provide some assistance. "Oppugno legion!" At the direction of his wand, the two remaining Death Eaters were pelted with numerous heavy stones and soon fell under the combined spellfire of the DA students.

Everyone stared at each other when it was over.

"Are there more?" Seamus made a few steps toward Harry. "What the fuck happened?"

Harry looked around. "I don't know. They came out of nowhere, I was just about to leave Tomes and Scrolls when it began."

"Harry, are you injured?" Hermione came up to him with the long, fluid strides she always had when being shifted. Her eyes were still glowing in her blood-smeared face, and she was obviously was concerned now.

"I'm fine, it was nothing. Where are the others?"

"Shut up, it's not nothing. I heard you groan when you were hit." She put a finger to his face and wiped away a smear of fresh blood from under his nose. Something about her made him think she'd lick it off her own hand, but her inner wolf seemed to be satiated for now because she started cleaning herself up.

"Where are the aurors? We send for help ages ago." Madame Rosmerta handed out a potion to the old woman who'd been tortured. "Where are your professors? And where is the Merlin-damned Ministry?"

Seamus cleared his throat. "Professor McGonagall is alive, but she's unconscious. I don't know where Professor Burbanks is."

"She's... " Hermione lowered her head. "She won't come."

"I... damn. We should try and send another call for help." Harry exchanged a look with Michael. "Can you... ?"

"Sure, but I think we... "

"For Merlin's sake, cover your rear, you fools!" A new voice rang across the square, and Harry whirled around, his wand at the ready. It wasn't a Death Eater though, it was Tonks who ran up to them. Her dirty robes indicated that she'd encountered a few Death Eaters of her own.

"Where did you come from? Is the Order here?" He didn't care about secrecy right now, as far as he was concerned, everyone present was in the anti-Voldemort camp.

The Metamorphmagus shook her head. "Just me for now, the others are busy defending Hogwarts. Remus told me to get you."

"What?"

She nodded grimly. "We don't know how, but they found a way into the school. Death Eaters suddenly appeared on the seventh floor and it was pure chaos. It... it's bad, Harry."

"But what about us? When will help arrive?" Madame Rosmerta gestured across their group. "People are wounded, or dead!"

"As far as I know, aurors will arrive soon."

Now that his life wasn't immediately threatened anymore, Harry felt his adrenaline rush fade as the implications of everything that'd happened unfolded in his mind. His wand hand started shaking, but Hermione noticed it and reached out to fold her hand with his.

"What now, Harry?" she whispered as Tonks and the others continued to take stock of the situation.

"I... we need to go back to Hogwarts, as soon as possible."

She frowned. "All right, but how? I don't think the front gates are safe right anymore."

"We use the secret tunnel. I know how fast you are right now, Hermione. I'll charm my sneakers to try and keep up with you." He put a hand on her shoulder. "Or do you want to stay here?"

"No, I'll go where you go, Harry."

He nodded. "Okay." He hated to lead her into danger but it was something he just had to learn to accept. She was tougher and stronger than him, and he had no place to push her aside so he could sacrifice himself to his own idiocy. They were better together, as a team, if not as a trio anymore.

"Why did they kill students, Harry? I don't understand. So much death... "

"I know. But I don't have an answer either."

She let go of his hand. "Let's talk about it later. We should go. Merlin knows what's happening in the castle right now."

"Tonks?" He took a deep breath. "There's a group of students behind the second-to-last house down there, near Tomes and Scrolls. Can you fetch them? There's an unconscious Death Eater, too. Hermione and I have a plan, but you won't like it."


The rain had gotten so bad, even Hermione couldn't see much of anything around them. As the storm pulled on their charmed cloaks and sapped away the very idea of warmth and comfort, Harry tried not to think about rest or comfort. They needed to stay focused, and on task. Wharram Percy was only two days away at this point. Once they'd regrouped with the rest of the Order, things would be... well, he hoped there would be something.

"Harry!" Hermione's voice was almost swallowed by the storm. "I think they're on to us! I smelled something!"

He stepped up to her, and they put their heads together. "Snatchers?"

"Werewolves, I think. For a moment I thought it was Remus, but the scent is sharper. Like from a flesh eater."

"Damn. What now?"

She reapplied warming charms on both of them and then removed her cap and the hood of her jacket. Her hair was immediately pulled out by the wind. "I'll try to move us out of here. Follow me!"

He nodded, drew his wand, and took a low stance. He couldn't see or hear anything in this weather, but he didn't doubt her senses for a second.

When the attack came, Harry managed to blast the first silhouette that jumped out of the shadow of a large tree. While he dodged in case of another attack, he could Hermione scream, and that one second of fear and hesitation cost him dearly. Before he could regain his bearings and look at Hermione, he was hit by a painful curse and then a full body-bind.

"My, my, I'll be damned. It really is Potter and that bitch of his." Greyback's gravel voice carried across the storm, and Harry felt the hairs on his arms and neck rise as he was lying on the rain-soaked ground. He'd encountered this man before and knew how vicious and brutal he was. Voldemort'd probably ordered them to catch him alive, but Hermione...

"The Dark Lord will laud us for our successful hunt! We succeeded where all those fucking Pure -bloods failed." He roared, and the other werewolves joined in. Harry counted at least five individuals, but he wasn't sure. He tried to remain calm as he saw Hermione being held by one of Greyback's goons. She fought back but wasn't strong enough to escape the hold.

"And you, girly... you smell delicious. Maybe I'll have a bite, yes?" Greyback, unbothered by the storm around then, put one of his claws under her chin and she stopped wriggling. She stared into his face while she shifted and growled at the large man.

"I'll tear your head from your body, you filthy beast," she roared. "You'll regret ever laying a hand on me!"

Greyback had backed off half a step, but now he was laughing. "Oh, this one has fire! I like it." He grabbed her hair forcefully and exposed her throat. "I can smell myself on you, you know? Who made you? Was it Chester? Or Vivian?"

Hermione fought as if she was possessed by a demon, but two men were holding her now as Greyback lowered his nose toward her neck. "You're the child of one of mine, definitely. But this isn't the weather to enjoy such a juicy little thing as yourself."

He stepped over to Harry and kicked his still-broken rips. The pain was so bad that Harry almost lost consciousness. He felt the body-bind being dismissed as rough hands hauled him up. The older werewolf leaned into his blurry field of vision. "There's not much to you, Potter, is there? Just a scrawny boy, the likes of which I've broken aplenty." He could smell rot and blood on the Greyback's breath and knew what Hermione had meant earlier.

Harry tried to ignore the pain and the fear that threatened to take hold of him. They were utterly screwed. How had these beasts tracked them in this weather? He glanced toward Hermione, but she was little more than a blurry outline at the edge of his vision.

"Want your bitch back, eh?" Greyback chuckled. "Maybe you can watch when we take her apart in Malfoy Manor. The Dark Lord might find that amusing. Let's go."

As his innards seemed to be yanked toward nothingness during the apparition, Harry finally fell unconscious. The last thing that went through his mind, other than the pain and the taste of his own blood on his tongue, was the amber color of Hermione's eyes that seemed to watch over him as darkness took hold.