Author's Note: I just finished writing this story today! Yay! So to celebrate and because I'm ready to move on, I will be updating this story every day for the next week until all of the chapters are posted.


Chapter Twenty-Two

It was only when Hermione landed far away from London in the country that she realized she hadn't been successful in shrugging off the person who grabbed her as she was running out the front door of Gringotts. Feeling their hand still gripping her arm, she was terrified. None of the options of people who were present for the dramatic end to her mission were good. Thorfinn would be the least objectionable, but even he would have far too many questions she couldn't answer.

Prepared to fight to the death yet one more time in her short life, she made certain her wand was still held tightly in her hand. If she lost it, she would be done for. There could be no coming back from something like that unless she had a stroke of incredible good fortune. She was running out of hope that she would ever be lucky again. No, the longer she remained alive, the less she felt like she had any control whatsoever in what was going to happen next.

Remembering some of the dueling tactics she learned at Hogwarts when she actually had a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor who wasn't a complete idiot, she prepared to spin her body around to cast a curse straight in the face of the stowaway. A stunner was all she needed to get away. Nothing fancy or too overly complicated. The ones who tried to use too much style were usually the ones who didn't make it out in one piece.

She kicked her leg behind her to try to knock them off their feet. Stumbling around at the sudden onset of pain, they nearly released their hold on her arm. A spell was on the tip of her tongue, just waiting to be uttered when a flash of orange light struck her in the face instead. Unsure what the curse was, she didn't have time to be afraid. Her entire body flew backwards at least a meter or so. Expecting to hit the ground hard, she was surprised to feel the cushioning charm under her back.

"Nice try, but you'll have to be quicker than that to get me."

Hearing the amusement in Kingsley's chuckling voice brought on an immense sense of relief. She exhaled, pleased that she wasn't in any real danger. The wizard extended his hand to help her back up to her feet. Seeing with her own eyes that it was really him, she couldn't help but throw her arms around his waist to rest her head on his chest.

"I thought you were a Death Eater."

"Nope, not a Death Eater, but just barely. The older Lestrange almost grabbed you on your way out. I was able to trip him."

Hearing how close she was to failing made her want to throw up all over again. She ran her trembling hands over her face, hoping that would help calm her down. Touching her unfamiliar features, she quickly removed the glamours she and Thorfinn cast on her before they left her parents' house.

"How did you know it was me?"

Kingsley shrugged his shoulders.

"I paid attention to what you were wearing when you left this morning. Also, Rowle is hard to miss. Did it work?"

For a minute there she almost forgot the reason she had been there in the first place. Everything happened so fast. Her brain was struggling to catch up. It would likely be hours until she really felt confident that she was safe.

"Uhh, yes, it did. Almost perfectly right up until the end."

She reached into her pocket to remove the gold cup. Handing it over to his waiting hands was easy. The dark magic seeping out of it was more than she could handle. Perhaps that was the main reason why she continued to feel like she was going to be sick. No one should be exposed to that level of evil for any length of time. How she and the boys managed to actually wear the locket horcrux for so long without going completely mad was something of a miracle. It should have surprised no one who knew what they were going through that Ron couldn't take it. For some reason the locket affected him worse than the others.

There was no need to ask Kingsley if he could feel the dark magic in the wretched object. Once it was in his hands he shuddered. To create that horrible artifact required an act of great evil. Neither of them were capable of understanding that level of darkness.

"Let's get rid of it."

Of course she was anxious to go along with Kingsley's suggestion. The only problem she had was she didn't understand how to do it. Professor Dumbledore and Ron used the Sword of Gryffindor that had been imbued with basilisk venom and Harry stabbed his destroyed horcrux with a basilisk fan. Considering neither one of them possessed anything that had anything to do with a basilisk, she felt lost.

"How?"

Dropping the cup to the ground, Kingsley conjured a thick glass box all around the item. When it was fully covered, he blasted the tiniest hole in the side that just fit the very tip of his wand. Seconds later the glass box filled with bright green flames that could only be Fiendfyre. He was quick to pull his wand back and seal the hole he made with magic. Though she had never seen anything but a moving picture in a textbook, she knew she was watching the cursed fire.

"How did you learn how to cast that?"

"Part of my auror training. Sometimes the baddies conjure Fiendfyre as a weapon and we had to learn how to destroy it. Can't learn to destroy it without learning how to cast it first."

Together they stood side by side staring at the horcrux be engulfed in the flames. It was easy to be transfixed by all of the colors. Though the horcrux tried to fight back, it was no match for the Fiendfyre. By its very nature, it was designed to destroy everything in its path. She was impressed by the awesome and terrible beauty of the spell. Only a few minutes were needed to reduce the gold cup that once belonged to Helga Hufflepuff down to a twisted, melted ruin. The Fiendfyre died out when it had nothing left to consume within its protective area. Kingsley waited a few more minutes to vanish the glass box to verify that the horcrux really was destroyed.

"It doesn't feel the same way anymore. Just feels like regular metal."

She exhaled a heavy deep breath. They were just a little bit closer to their final goal. The snake still needed to be killed and the other horcrux discovered, but they were just a little bit closer. Part of her started to dare to hope that maybe they could be successful.

"Would you teach me how to cast Fiendfyre? It could be useful."

The wizard's initial response to what she thought was a reasonable request was to laugh loudly. She immediately wished she hadn't said anything. If it was all going to just be a big joke to him, maybe it was better for her to learn from another auror. He wasn't the only one left in the Order.

"Absolutely not. Fiendfyre in the wrong hands is far too dangerous."

"I would be careful."

"I know you would try to be careful, but no. It takes years of practice to get to where you can cast it and destroy it safely. No. I'll destroy the next one too."

Hermione knew when there was no reason to argue. Maybe in the future he would change his mind, but she wouldn't hold her breath. The man was stubborn and if he had a point, she wouldn't admit it. In her own arrogance, she just assumed she wouldn't need all of the years of practice he claimed were necessary.

"Do you think the Lestranges went back into their vault to check what you stole? They would know the cup was missing, wouldn't they?"

"No, I made a duplicate. I'm sure they will just poke their head in, see the cup is still there, and then just assume we were only in there for money. Rowle's pockets were filled with galleons."

She held up her hands with the palms out to show him the burns she sustained in the process.

"All of their treasures are protected well with spells."

Seeing the burns on her palms, he took her hands in his. Gently he kissed each one of her palms. A little dittany would take care of the burns. There was nothing serious about any of her injuries.

Kingsley turned her left hand over to get a better look at the diamond engagement ring she was still wearing. In all of the excitement of her escape, she forgot she had it on. His renewed laughter proved he found it funny.

"A lot more happened in that vault than I realized."

It was truly a beautiful ring, but it was a shame that it had to have come from Lestrange. She'd hoped the first man who put an expensive diamond ring on her finger wouldn't be a known homicidal Death Eater. That didn't seem like too much to ask for.

"Thorfinn told Lestrange that I was his fiancée and ordered him to treat me like it. He explained that we needed to get into the vault to get a ring for me. This belonged to his mother apparently. He was quite anxious to make sure I wore it."

No longer wishing to be reminded of the incident, Hermione pulled on the ring. It didn't budge. Pulling harder didn't help. Nothing did. She looked up at Kingsley with fear in her eyes. What was happening? He sighed, but there was still an element of humor in his eyes. He wasn't completely hating everything that was going on.

"Did Lestrange kiss the ring before he put it on your finger?"

"Yes, he did."

"And then he kissed you once it was there?"

"Yes. What does that mean, Kingsley?"

Unable to keep from smiling, he at least had the courtesy to clear his throat before bursting out in more laughter. She was glad that at least somebody seemed to be enjoying themselves. Despite knowing nothing would happen, she kept pulling on the ring.

"That is an old Pureblood tradition, I'm afraid. My dad used the same spell on my mum, but of course, she actually wanted to be engaged to him."

"Tell me what it is."

"The spell seals the ring to the intended's finger until either the spell is removed or the one who placed it on their finger dies."

She didn't like the sound of that at all. As beautiful as the ring was, she didn't like the idea of being forced to wear Rabastan Lestrange's engagement ring for the rest of her life. Why did the wizarding world have to have such archaic traditions? It sounded as if Lestrange was effectively marking her as his property.

"How do we remove the spell? I want it off right now."

Kingsley cleared his throat.

"I'm afraid only Lestrange will be able to take it off. Either he breaks the spell and thus the engagement or he dies. There aren't any other options other than slicing your finger off, but that seems a bit extreme."

"Given the options, that doesn't sound like the worst idea."

The frustrating wizard laughed again. She was starting to find him annoying. How could he find anything amusing about what happened to her? Under no circumstances did she want to be engaged to a Lestrange. The very idea was horrifying. As she stared at her finger contemplating whether or not she really needed ten fingers, Kingsley grabbed her hand to pull her body up against his. Before she could ask him what he was doing, he was kissing the very breath out of her lungs.

It was difficult to remain upset with Kingsley for anything when he could kiss like that. How did she not ever suspect he had the capacity for such passion? There was a lot about him that she didn't know, but was anxious to find out. If the war went their way and they had a future worth having, maybe she would get the opportunity. Lasting perhaps no longer than thirty seconds, when he broke off the kiss he started to laugh again. She glared at him.

"Always hated that Lestrange arsehole. Felt pretty good just now kissing his fiancée. He would hate it."

Hermione playfully pushed him away which only made him laugh harder.

"Don't worry. I can kill your fiancé if it makes you feel better."

"It would, thank you."

The chilly air reminded them both suddenly that they were in the middle of nowhere when there was a warm house waiting for them in another part of the country. With the destroyed horcrux tucked back in Hermione's pocket, she took Kingsley's arm to allow him to Apparate them both back to the safe house. All of the difficult magic she had to perform so far that day had taken a lot of energy out of her. While she didn't doubt she could've made it on her own, it felt nice to have him so eager to help.

News traveled amongst the Order members that something big was going to happen that day. Even if they didn't have all of the details or know who was involved, many of the members chose to gather at the house to wait for news. Hermione tried not to take it personally that she knew several thought she was probably going to fail. Even if she hadn't been successful, at least she was doing something. That was more than many others.

It felt good to walk through the kitchen door to see all of the nervous Order members seated at the large table speaking in hushed whispers. Everyone looked up at the sound of her footsteps. Without saying a single word, she approached the table. Her hand pulled out the ruined horcrux to casually throw it into the center.

"Another one was destroyed. Two left now, I believe."

Cheers erupted around the table from most of the Order members. There were a few who still stared at her like they didn't quite understand what she was saying. It helped her recognize which of the survivors weren't fully on her side. Soon that might very well become information that was as important as life or death.

Across the table a confused but smiling Tonks silently pointed to her own ring finger. Hermione tried not to groan. The hope that no one would notice immediately was not to be. As she stared down at the damned diamond ring again, the others started to notice as well. Hermione waved her hand as if it was nothing important, a topic hardly worth mentioning.

"I accidentally got engaged to Rabastan Lestrange, but Kingsley promised me he'd kill my fiancé and break the spell."

To her relief, no one asked her any other questions. Likely they were in shock. She understood the feeling. If she hadn't been a part of it herself, she knew it would be hard to fathom how a person could get engaged with another person against their will. Magic was odd. She could spend a lifetime studying it and still be surprised by all that she didn't know.

Destroying the cup was a big deal, but it wasn't the end. There was more that needed to be done. Kingsley and Hermione both took seats at the table. Everyone else in the room did the same or at least moved close enough to hear what was being said.

"Tell us how you got the horcrux, Hermione. Did it go as planned?"

She was grateful for Remus asking the question to get everyone on topic. Less than half in the room had known what she was going to attempt. Describing everything that happened took less than ten minutes. It would've been too easy to get caught up in telling all of the details. She wasn't the storyteller some of them wished she was. After all of the barest of details were described, she turned to Kingsley to encourage him to move on to the next part of the meeting.

"Like Hermione said, we likely only have two horcruxes left to destroy now. Severus believes strongly that the snake is one. I have no reason to argue. That makes sense to me, especially considering how close You-Know-Who likes to keep the snake to him. We only have guesses what the other one could be."

"Something that belonged to Rowena Ravenclaw or Godric Gryffindor, right?"

He nodded his head at Tonks' statement. It was what they assumed at any rate. Hermione hoped they weren't wasting their time. What if the remaining horcruxes were something else entirely? They could be looking in the wrong place. But, of course, she didn't even have an idea where to look for at all. The more she thought about it and obsessed over the details, the less confident she felt that it was even going to be possible.

"That's what we think. If any of you can think about an item that you heard belonged to one of those two Founders, it might be helpful. We really aren't sure where to even begin."

There was a definite shift in the atmosphere from when she tossed the ruined horcrux onto the table to the moment Kingsley said those words out loud. Almost as if all of the air had been let out of the room, the Order felt deflated. Some of the bitterness and anger that Hermione hadn't been great at suppressing in recent weeks began to rise up again. How could so many people be so damned weak? She didn't even understand why they were bothering if they were going to drag down morale so much. If they wanted to run off like the cowards they were, they should. She was done looking at their faces.

All of the excitement from that morning reminded her how little sleep she'd had the night before. Exhausted and feeling disgusting from her mission, Hermione stood up from the table without explaining herself and exited the room. No one asked where she was going. It was hardly the first time since she was rescued from her captivity that she just stood up and left a room. Less and less she felt the need to not be rude. What did it matter? Polite manners only mattered in peacetime. Maybe a day would come when she might be arsed to care whether or not people she didn't respect thought she was rude. It certainly wasn't that day.

She lingered under the spray of the hot water for longer than she normally did. It was quiet in the shower. No one was asking her impertinent questions or annoying her with their whinging. She wasn't expected to do anything behind that shower curtain other than lather up her skin and hair and rinse off. There were far too few places where she could enjoy the simplicity of life.

When she could no longer use the shower as a place to hide, she turned the taps off. Exhausted enough that she knew she could sleep for two days straight if no one bothered her, she pulled on a nightie. What did it matter if it wasn't even noon yet? She wanted to go to bed, fuck everyone else's plans.

A knock on the bathroom door made her jump. Who would dare annoy her when she was in the only room in the whole house she could be guaranteed privacy? As temped as she was to ignore them, she knew she couldn't when there was a second knock. She pulled the door open a crack, ready to give whomever was in the corridor a piece of her mind.

"I have some dittany for the burns on your hands."

Kingsley held up a small glass bottle to prove he wasn't lying. Grateful for his kindness, she smiled as she opened the door up to let him enter. She didn't miss the way his eyes went up and down her body in the thin nightie even if he was quite skilled at not making it obvious. There were too few compliments to receive in those days. She would accept the attention for what it was.

"Come closer to the sink so I can get a better look."

The bathroom was far from luxurious. Built for either housemaids or footmen in decades past, there was only a single bulb above the sink. She didn't mind that it was simple. Most of the Order avoided that part of the house for the nicer rooms on the floors below. It impressed her that Kingsley felt the same way. Instead of one of the rooms intended for family members or honored guests, he stayed in the room that had once belonged to the housekeeper. Larger than Hermione's by only a few square meters, it was simple too. She got the impression that he was the sort of man who would've been just fine living rough in an old tent that smelled strongly of cats. Would they have been more successful if Harry had broken his promise to Dumbledore to include a few trusted adults? She hated to think that they probably would've.

"This will burn a bit. I'm sorry I can't stop that."

She only smiled at Kingsley when he warned her about the pain. Considering how painful it had been to touch the magical objects and galleons in the vault, a little dittany wouldn't be hard to endure. With a great deal of gentle care, he applied the dittany to each of her wounds. They stung, but soon the relief was all she could feel.

"You were very brave today. I was very proud of you."

"Thank you. You were brave today too. Why were you waiting inside the bank for me? That wasn't part of the plan."

Caught, Kingsley could only smile that sheepish grin of his that made him seem even more handsome. While she couldn't deny it was a relief to know he was the one who grabbed her arm as she was escaping, she knew that there had been nothing in their plans that included him standing just inside the front doors of Gringotts. A wanted man, he could've been arrested just as easily as she if he was spotted.

"I was nervous for you. Wanted to be there for you in case you needed me."

Hearing him say that meant more to her than she realized. Overcome with emotion, she leaned forward to kiss him. Just a soft peck at first, it didn't take much for either of them to heat it up quickly. She strongly suspected they had real chemistry. Given the chance to find out for certain, she was sure she would enjoy the experiment.

The tiny bathroom was never going to be the best place for the two of them to remain together for very long. There was hardly enough room to turn around when there was only one inside. Kingsley took her hand in his, careful not to hurt the healed burns. It was a tight squeeze to get the door open again, but somehow he managed. He stepped out of the space, gently pulling her behind him across the corridor.

It was a bold decision for the wizard to invite her into his bedroom during the middle of the day. There were Order members all over the large house. As Hermione followed him into his borrowed room, she caught a glimpse of Remus staring in her direction from a few doors down the corridor. She didn't have to ask him his opinion on what was happening to know her former professor wasn't pleased. No doubt he would have something else to say about her relationship with Kingsley.

She didn't care. Catching Remus' eyes and stopping for a second or two to show him that she knew he was watching, she closed the door behind her. It was none of his business what she did behind closed doors. She didn't give a damn what his judgmental opinion was.