AN: Happy new year everyone! Massive thanks for the kudos and comments on the first chapter. I wanted to post this before the year ended but I got so busy with the hols.

I actually intended for this fic to be a Hermione only first person POV journal style. I just finished reading The Martian when we watched DH and I was inspired by it. I already wrote the first chapter back then but decided to throw it out and started a new one in this format.

Anyway, without further ado: the second chapter. *tadaa*


UNINVITED GUESTS.

AUGUST 1, 1997.

The wedding was a simple ceremony followed by a lively reception. After Bill and Fleur had exchanged vows and a kiss, the wizard presiding over the ceremony asked the guests to rise from their seats. Mr. Weasley summoned cloth-covered tables to the side while Charlie magically arranged the chairs to surround them in a swift synchronized movement that amazed Harry. The canvas flaps that surrounded the marquee had vanished, leaving only the large canopy that was supported by gold-colored poles that matched the wedding decors. The guests all cooed and ahh-ed as the interior was bathed with the warm glow of the fading sun while the band that played the wedding march was now performing a boisterous song number.

Harry sat alone on the far end of the orchard with his hands inside his front pockets as he observed the afternoon festivity. The Order thought it wise to Polyjuice him to look like one of the Weasleys' relatives since they didn't trust everyone in attendance to not let anything slip once alcohol was involved. Harry didn't like it, but he grudgingly acquiesced. Maybe it was better that people didn't know he was here. Death followed him everywhere he went.

The tips of his fingers touched Hermione's birthday gift to him, a sneakoscope, and the golden snitch Dumbledore had bequeathed to him in his will. These two items had taken the place of honor in his pocket, previously occupied by the Marauder's Map and the fake locket which now resided inside the drawstring pouch Hagrid had given him. It had only been yesterday, on the morning of his seventeenth birthday, that the Minister for Magic arrived accompanied by Mr. Weasley and requested that he speak to Harry, Ron, and Hermione. It came as a surprise to everyone when Rufus Scrimgeour said that the late Headmaster had even included Ron and Hermione in his will.

You were not aware then that Dumbledore had left you anything?

No, Harry had not been aware. In fact, he had not been aware of a lot of things in his life. But it still came even more of a shock when Scrimgeour told him that there was a second bequest. The Sword of Gryffindor. Unfortunately, it wasn't Dumbledore's to give away, hence the reason why Scrimgeour confiscated it for examination, a supposed 'fact' that was intensely contested by Hermione. Threats were exchanged between Harry and the Minister and the tension was only diffused by Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's timely arrival.

The interaction left a sour taste in Harry's mouth and only intensified his dislike for the Ministry.

He had been feeling on edge since that night the Order whisked him away from his childhood home to a new safe house. All he ever wanted was to be alone even for an hour. But ever since he arrived at the Burrow, he never had a moment of peace. There was always someone breathing down his neck. Even Ron whose presence he normally didn't mind had started to grate on his nerves.

But now that he was alone, Harry felt morose more than ever.

He had to wonder how they could be happy at a time like this let alone have a wedding. They lost so many people in such a small period. Dumbledore's murder was still fresh in his mind and now Mad-Eye Moody died protecting him. Harry didn't even want to think about Hedwig who had been his companion and one great link to the magical world whenever he had been forced to return to the Dursleys for the summer.

Hedwig who laid motionless and pathetic as a toy on the floor of her cage when the killing curse missed Harry and hit her instead. Whose cage exploded when he was forced to blow Hagrid's falling sidecar.

Harry sat on the cold hard floor of the Weasleys' bathroom that night, dry heaving as the news finally sunk in. How many more had to die because of him? Because some stupid prophecy declared him to be the chosen one? He wasn't a skilled fighter like Kingsley, nor as smart as Hermione. Harry had gotten by mostly on pure luck and by the skin of his teeth. Why him? What was so special about him? The only reason he survived that night was that his mother sacrificed her life for him. Snape was right. Harry was weak and pathetic.

That helplessness was amplified by Mrs. Weasley's insistence that he stayed here in the Burrow where they could keep him safe when all Harry wanted was to leave and disappear and continue whatever it was that Dumbledore had asked of him so Voldemort would leave the people he cared about alone.

At that last thought, Harry's eyes drifted to the dance floor where Ginny was dancing with Luna. She was wearing a light lilac-colored dress that made her baby blue eyes pop. His mind wandered to yesterday again. After Scrimgeour had left, they resumed Harry's small birthday party and once everyone had their fill of the cake, Ginny stealthily pulled him aside and led him to the basement, giving Harry his birthday gift.

Something to remember me by when you leave.

The kiss felt more of a permanent goodbye than a temporary parting gift and Harry fought the urge to break down and cry because he wanted to stay in Ginny's arms but at the same time, he wanted to cut off ties with her for good. He told her after they discarded the Half-Blood Prince's book in the Room of Hidden Things that he can't continue the relationship anymore. That she deserved so much better, a future that was free and unencumbered, and staying attached to him would only bring her much pain and misery. He remembered how she'd kissed him softly, telling him that she's not mad at him.

Harry shook his head to try and get rid of images of Ginny walking down the aisle towards a different man, one who didn't have a cursed lightning-shaped scar on his forehead. He spied Ron sulking on the far corner of the marquee, his eyes trained on the couple dancing near Ginny and Luna. Hermione looked radiant in her burgundy skater dress with matching high heels. Her soft curls flowed freely as Viktor Krum twirled her around the dance floor.

Harry wondered if Hermione also felt conflicted about her feelings for Ron. His two friends had just reconciled before Dumbledore's death but Harry knew it was only a matter of time before Ron and Hermione fought again. And by the look on his friend's face, an argument was bound to happen before this party ended.

After taking a sandwich from a passing waiter, Harry made his way around the edge of the crowded dance floor, carefully avoiding bumping into George who was dancing with one of Fleur's Veela cousins.

"Wotcher, Harry," said a familiar voice and Harry stopped himself just in time before colliding with his former DADA professor. Tonks was standing beside her husband, a glass of champagne in one hand. "Arthur told us you're the one with the curly hair."

"Hello, Tonks, Professor."

"Call me Remus, Harry. I haven't been your professor in ages," Lupin gave him a small smile. "I don't think I'll ever be a professor again."

"Cheer up, luv. I'm sure Hogwarts would welcome you back once this is over," Tonks nudged him in the side. She then turned her attention to Harry. "I hope you liked our gift, Harry. I'm sorry Remus and I couldn't attend. The Ministry's being very anti-werewolf at the moment and we thought our presence might not do you any favors."

"It's fine," he smiled gratefully. Last night, when Harry was about to head upstairs, Mr. Weasley handed him a package wrapped in a simple brown paper with a note attached to it. Happy birthday, Harry. From T&R. It was a Gryffindor scarf but what made it special was the initials stitched at the bottom of it: JFP. It was his father's scarf. "Thank you for the gift."

"I found it in my old school trunk while Tonks and I were cleaning up the house," Lupin explained. "James gave it to me when I lost my scarf and I know it's a little bit worn out but I figured you still might want it since it's your father's. I think I'm too old now to be wearing Hogwarts house co—"

The rest of his speech was lost as Harry propelled himself forward and hugged the two, nearly spilling the contents of Tonks' champagne glass all over him. He tried to put a lot of unsaid things into the hug and perhaps Lupin and Tonks understood them because Tonks patted his cheek clumsily when Harry released them while Lupin squeezed his arm.

"You take care of yourself, Harry," Tonks beamed at him before dragging her husband away to get another refill of their drinks.

Harry continued wandering around the crowd until he spotted an old wizard sitting alone at a table. The wizard was wearing a red, moth-eaten fez atop tuffs of thin, puffy, white hair. Harry wondered if magical people tended to get odder the more they age. He was about to turn around and make a beeline for Ron when he realized that the old wizard was Elphias Doge, member of the Order of the Phoenix and the one who wrote Dumbledore's heartfelt obituary.

It probably couldn't hurt to make his presence known to another Order member. Taking a deep breath, Harry decided to approach him.


"Your friend is not pleased to see me," Viktor said as he gave Hermione another twirl, catching her waist just in time. It felt familiar, the way his large hand settled on her hips as they swayed to the music.

She looked across his shoulder to see Ron looking murderously at them. When she caught his eye, Ron quickly shifted his gaze away, his ears turning the same shade as his hair. Hermione shook her head in disbelief. Friend. Such an odd word to describe Ron's standing in Hermione's life. "He's just surprised to see you. He's been a huge fan," Hermione replied. It was partially true. Ron was a big fan of Viktor Krum before.

It was like being transported back to their fourth year during the Triwizard tournament. Back then, Ron had fawned over Viktor much more than the girls did until the Bulgarian Seeker decided to ask her out to Yule Ball. She didn't know if Ron was jealous of Viktor or her. Ginny once mentioned that it was probably both.

Truth be told, Hermione didn't know where she stood with Ron now. Their relationship had improved considerably after his split with Lavender but it was far from romantic either.

Friend.

They were friends, alright, but was there a possibility of it becoming more? Every time Hermione thought they were becoming more than that, something would happen and all the progress they made would come crashing down. Each fight would become worse than the last and Hermione was worried that something bad would happen soon that might deem even their friendship irreparable.

Her musings were cut short when Hermione felt Viktor tensed in front of her. "What is it, Viktor?"

"Who is that man in the yellow?" he asked with a scowl on his face.

Hermione turned her head to see an eccentric-looking wizard wearing an eye-watering shade of egg-yolk yellow chatting with several warlocks on the other side of the marquee. He had shoulder-length white hair that looked like it hadn't been touched by a hairbrush in decades. Hermione thought he looked like the polar opposite of Lucius Malfoy whose hair was as immaculate as his clothes.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Luna approached the wizard. Hermione observed as the wizard leaned down to press a kiss on the top of Luna's head and that was when Hermione made out the resemblance. This must be her father.

"That's Luna's father, Xenophilius Lovegood. Luna is a good friend of ours."

"You know this Lovegood vell?"

"I'd like to think I know Luna quite well but I can't say the same about her father. I've only seen him today," Hermione noticed Viktor had glided them closer to the Lovegoods. "Why do you ask, Viktor?"

"Because he's a disrespectful vizard for vearing that filthy sign upon his chest," Viktor growled in a thick Bulgarian accent that surprised Hermione. She had never seen him this furious before. Sure, there were a handful of times he got pissed during the tournament but it was nothing compared to now. Viktor was practically seething. "I vould duel him right now if he is not a guest of Fleur's."

Hermione tightened her hold on his hand and shoulder. "Sign?" she said, looking over at Xenophilius. Her eye caught something glinting from the golden chain around his neck. It was an odd logo, rather like an outline of the eye of providence symbol with a line bisecting it in the middle. "Why? What's wrong with it?"

"Grindelvald. That is Grindelvald's sign."

Hermione gasped. "The Dark wizard Dumbledore defeated?"

Krum tersely nodded, his jaw muscles worked as if he was chewing blocks of stones. "Your people never feared him because you had Dumbledore but Grindelvald killed many of my people. My grandfather died fighting him. That symbol, I recognized it immediately. Grindelvald carved it into a vall at Durmstrang ven he vos a student there. I know because I valked past that sign for several years. Some idiots copied it onto their books thinking it vas cool, until those of us who had lost family members to Grindelvald taught them better."

"Oh, Viktor. I'm so sorry," Hermione squeezed the hand she was holding as she tried to maneuver him away from the Lovegoods. "Xenophilius has probably no clue what the symbol really means. The Lovegoods are quite an unusual family but they mean good."

"Are you sure?"

They were now on the far side of the dancefloor and Hermione spotted Harry's Polyjuiced self, sitting across an old wizard. They both seemed to be in an intense discussion with Ron's Aunt Muriel. Hermione nodded distractedly at her dance partner. "I'm sure. They're good people."

"Okay. I trust you, Hermy-own-ninny."

Hermione returned her focus to Viktor when she heard the familiar mispronunciation of her name, remembering that time in the Yule Ball when she'd taught him how to correctly say it. A fond smile appeared on her face at the memory.

"Her-my-oh-nee," she said each syllable slowly and clearly.

"Herm-own-ninny," Viktor tried, his brows scrunched together in concentration.

"Close enough," Hermione sighed in resignation.

She'd never found him physically attractive before. Viktor was thin, dark, and sallow-skinned, with a large, curved nose and thick black eyebrows—completely different from Gilderoy Lockhart's well-polished look and Sirius Black's chaotically rugged appearance. But what Viktor lacked in the physical department, he made up for in his passion and natural talent for Quidditch—something she appreciated more. Hermione remembered how he moved so easily through the air as if gravity itself was bending over backward for him. Unsupported and weightless, he hardly looked as though he was using a broomstick at all. She used to think that you only needed to be physically agile for the sport but when Hermione saw him in the Quidditch World Cup, she developed a newfound respect for the sport she used to ignore.

After the disastrous Triwizard tournament, Viktor had invited her to his hometown in Bulgaria for the summer. Her parents had allowed her to stay for a week only and it was more than Hermione could hope for but that week with him had been one of her happiest. By the time she had returned to London, Hermione had felt confused about her feelings for Ron and Viktor but as her sixth year went on, her feelings for Ron had overcome whatever possibility she had imagined with Viktor. Halfway through the year, they had ceased communication.

"You seemed distracted. Did I say something wrong?"

"No, no," Hermione smiled reassuringly although he did pronounce her name wrong again. But she'd accepted it now—was even fond of it. She felt like it was his term of endearment to her. "I was just remembering Yule Ball."

"Ahh," was his only reply, a small smile on his lips.

Right on cue, the music had ended and Hermione excused herself but not before promising Viktor another dance before the night ended. She watched him amble through the crowd towards the bride and groom before she went to the opposite direction where she last saw Harry who was disguised as a distant Weasley cousin.

He was still sitting beside the old wizard but both were red in the face. Hermione guessed that it wasn't from the champagne. Her eyes landed on Aunt Muriel who Hermione now realized was talking about Dumbledore.

"The Dumbledores lived in Godric's Hollow?" she heard Harry asked, the shock was clearly written all over his Polyjuiced face. His parents had also lived in Godric's Hollow and all this time, Dumbledore had never mentioned anything about it.

"Yes, Barry, that's what I just said," said Auntie Muriel testily.

Hermione pulled a chair beside him but Harry didn't seem to notice. His eyes were staring straight ahead but weren't really seeing what was in front of him. He had always hated being kept in the dark, being treated like he was still the bullied kid sleeping under the stairs. It reminded him so much of how the Dursleys treated him back when he didn't know he was a wizard. She had planned on telling him about what she had learned about Grindelwald but decided to reach out her hand to his instead, her voice low and gentle as to not be overheard. "Harry, are you okay?"

Her gesture snapped him out of his stupor and Harry looked at Hermione, his bright, green eyes seemed slightly out of focus still. Like he was trying to figure out how to articulate his thoughts. He opened his mouth, then closed it before opening it again but whatever he was about to say was cut off when something large and silvery came falling through the large canopy, landing directly in the middle of the dance floor. Everyone had stopped whatever it was they were doing and glanced at the gleaming lynx. Hermione's heart started hammering inside her chest. She knew whose Patronus it belonged to. The lynx then opened its mouth as wide as it could and spoke, the voice that came out was slow and deep. It was Kingsley Shacklebolt's voice.

"The Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming."


The night slithered in chillingly like a Dementor on a hunt while Lucius stood hidden a short distance away from the Weasleys' small property as he waited for the signal from Pius. After he had left the Dark Lord's presence the other night, he had immediately assembled an army of forty Death Eaters. Some of them were from the inner circle like Avery, Rosier, Nott, and the younger Lestrange who had eagerly agreed for a chance to impress their master while the others were mostly freshly recruits. Expendables, as the Dark Lord would say although Lucius would be inclined to disagree. All of them were expendable in the Dark Lord's eyes.

Lucius' instructions to his subordinates were quite simple that even a toddler could do it: distract the Aurors and divert the Order's attention away from the Mudblood by attempting to converge on Potter. As soon as the girl was on her own, he and Draco would whisk her away back to the Malfoy dungeons where she would stay as bait. It didn't matter what kind of distraction his soldiers would do as long as they got the job done although he had forbidden them to kill any innocent bystander especially if it was one of them. A Pureblood. There was no need to spill such an untainted line.

His eyes then landed on his son, Draco, who stood on the very side with a grim look on his face, his wand clutched tightly by his side. Narcissa had begged Lucius to run away that night he told her about the task; had asked him to flee to another country where the Dark Lord wouldn't reach them but Lucius insisted that nowhere was safe. No matter where they went, the Dark Lord would find them and absolutely kill them on the spot. No, it was better this way. If the mission was a success tonight, Lucius would soon gain his standing again as the Dark Lord's second in command. The Malfoy name wouldn't be ridiculed anymore and maybe—just maybe—his son would come to respect and look up to him just like Draco used to.

Out of the corner of his eye, Lucius caught sight of a swirling black mass heading towards their direction. He straightened his posture, drawing himself higher, and pretended to brush off an imaginary lint on his robes. This would be it, the signal.

The noncorporeal figure came closer and closer until it landed ahead of him and he was surprised to see Antonin Dolohov materializing, his manic, dark eyes gleaming in excitement. He had expected Pius to send a rookie, not him.

"I take it everything went well in the Ministry?"

"Oh, yes, it did. Scrimgeour is dead courtesy of moi," Antonin gave a mocking bow and everyone behind Lucius cheered and hooted. "I volunteered to deliver the news and to participate in this skirmish. I find myself still feeling restless."

Lucius clenched his fists tight, his nails nearly drawing blood. Antonin can be a bit of a loose cannon and he and Bellatrix were the reason why they fucked up that mission in the Department of Mysteries. If they hadn't provoked Potter, then Lucius was sure he could've gotten his hands on the prophecy.

"This mission is important to the Dark Lord, Antonin. He needs the Mudblood girl alive," he snarled.

"Don't worry, Lucy. I won't kill her," Antonin gave him a shit-eating grin, his crooked yellow teeth gleaming under the cloak of the night. How Lucius hated that nickname. "I'll only give the girly a warm welcome."

Before he could respond, a silvery vapor went flying overhead straight to the Weasleys where the canopy was erected. He watched as everyone froze when the Patronus landed in the middle, revealing an elegant lynx. He realized someone must've escaped the Ministry and alerted the Light ahead. Antonin gave him a deriding salute before flying over to their destination.

Lucius cursed under his breath as he turned around to face his comrades. There was no time for long speeches. He gave his son, who was looking like he would like to be anywhere else but here, a stern look before giving everyone the go signal. He donned his mask and raised his broken wand up, the one the Dark Lord had borrowed.

"My friends, it is time."


The Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming.

Hermione sat still as a statue as she watched Kingsley's Patronus slowly fade away into obscurity. There was a deafening lull in the surrounding like a person taking a deep, full breath before screaming at the top of their lungs. She couldn't remember who made the first move but everyone was suddenly everywhere. It was utter chaos. And Hermione had seen her fair share of mayhem in Hogwarts.

"This is not good," the old wizard Harry was talking to kept shaking his head as if doing that would undo everything and bring Scrimgeour back to life. "He's taken control of the Ministry. He—"

He was cut off by an ear-piercing screech across the marquee. Hermione watched in horror as the canopy was ripped apart and dark wisps of smoke permeated the area.

Death Eaters.

People were getting hexed left and right. Hermione even saw a flash of green light and hoped to Merlin no one was on the receiving end of that horrible spell. Harry stood rigid beside her. The effects of the Polyjuice potion will wear off soon and they needed to get out of here. She scanned her surroundings looking for Ron but she couldn't see him among the masses running and fleeing for their lives. The old wizard was now gone, most probably had apparated once he saw the Death Eaters. She spotted Ginny nearby who was merely dancing a few minutes ago but was now dueling a masked wizard.

It seemed like this was a planned attack. Hermione had counted at least more than twenty Death Eaters inside the marquee and there were probably more battling the Aurors outside. She tugged on Harry's sleeve, willing his friend into action.

"Harry, get it together! We need to find Ron and get out of here before they figure out who you are!" That seemed to snap him out of his trance. Harry pulled his wand and proceeded to help Ginny, sending a stunning curse to her opponent.

Hermione made her way across the large tent in search of Ron, carefully trying not to draw any attention to herself. Nearly halfway through, she saw him battling two Death Eaters and she felt her heart sank when Ron didn't detect the incoming jet of a spell. It landed squarely on his chest and he slumped to the floor writhing in pain. The two Death Eaters advanced on to Ron, their wands trained to him and obviously going for the kill.

"No!" she howled trying to run as fast as her legs would allow but her path was suddenly blocked.

"Hello girly," the masked Death Eater growled. The hairs on the back of her neck stood at hearing the familiar voice. Hermione knew who this was despite his face being covered by a mask. Antonin Dolohov. The one who nearly killed her in the Department of Mysteries. She didn't have any scars but it took her an entire month to heal from his nonverbal spell.

"Did you miss me?"


A curse went sailing past Lucius, nearly missing his robe by an inch. Somewhere along the pandemonium occurring around him, he had lost sight of his son and now he felt utterly defenseless and useless. His wand was barely functioning, limiting him to a handful of basic spells only a toddler could perform so he had relied on Draco to neutralize the Mudblood and transport them out of here back to the Manor.

Most of the guests had already fled, but Lucius couldn't see the girl or Potter. He briefly wondered if the Dark Lord was misinformed and Potter and his friends were not in attendance but soon dismissed the thought. Nearly the entire law enforcement was here. That was why the Ministry was left open for the taking. That meant they were guarding something—or someone—here. And where Potter went, his two friends surely followed.

"You two!" he barked at the two nearest Death Eater he reached. "Watch my back. If a single strand of my precious hair is harmed, you'll pay for it dearly."

The two unknown Death Eaters nodded and resumed a defensive stance as they followed Lucius through the fray. Moments later, he heard a woman shout to his left and turned to see the girl he'd been searching for being taunted by Antonin.

"Dammit!" he cursed. There were no explicit instructions from the Dark Lord that she was not to be harmed but Lucius didn't want to risk it. Between incurring the Dark Lord's wrath and Antonin's ire, Lucius knew the choice he would make. He raised his hand, about to instruct the two lackeys beside him to restrain Antonin and stun the Mudblood but a commotion to his right interrupted him.

There stood Draco with his mask discarded; his wand aimed at a Death Eater standing in front of him who Lucius realized was Thaddeus Nott. Draco was visibly trembling and Lucius noticed two unconscious bodies lying around them. One was Mulciber while the other was Potter's other friend, the youngest Weasley boy.

"I can't," Lucius heard his son say; his eyes were slightly wet. "I can't do this anymore."

Oh, Draco.

"Blood traitors!" Thaddeus bellowed. "A disgrace to the Dark Lord!"

The older wizard then started firing curse after curse and Lucius couldn't help but feel proud of his son as Draco easily deflected each of them but he felt his chest tightened when he saw Rosier sidled up beside Thaddeus and started bearing down on his son. Lucius could see Draco was already losing his hold, a panic look was etched in his young features when he was suddenly disarmed by Thaddeus and Lucius was about to rush over when the werewolf Lupin and his metamorphmagus' wife, Tonks, came to his son's rescue. Together, the three of them managed to incapacitate Thaddeus and Rosier but they were far from safety. Nearby Death Eaters soon replaced the fallen two and Lucius watched as Lupin's expression changed. He grabbed Draco by the arm while his wife took the unconscious Weasley and somehow, Lucius knew what was about to happen, what the werewolf was about to do.

His legs were moving, running as fast as he could. No, no, no. Don't take him. He kept chanting inside his head. Lucius shoved everyone that was in his way, whether it was a Death Eater, an Auror, or an Order member. He needed to get to his son. A stray curse had hit him on the shoulder and Lucius stumbled down but he hardly felt the pain, hardly felt the blood oozing from his shoulder down to his arm. He staggered to get up, his vision slightly woozy from the blood loss. And as Lucius desperately ambled his way to Draco, he heard another voice inside his head.

Promise me you'll keep our son safe no matter what.

I promise, Cissa.

"Draco!"

His son looked up at hearing his name and there was a split-second moment when their eyes met before the pull of disapparition took Draco away from him, leaving an empty hole in his chest.

"Draco, what have you done?"


Arthur Weasley watched out of the corner of his eye as his son disappeared with Remus, Tonks, and the young Malfoy. Relief washed over him, knowing his son was now safe. He was one among the scattered people who had witnessed Draco's sudden change in loyalty and couldn't help but feel sorry for the boy. Harry had told them the story the day Dumbledore died. That in the end, Draco couldn't bring himself to kill the late Headmaster and admitted that he was only forced to do so because You-Know-Who would kill his family. Arthur remembered Molly clutching his hand tightly as they all listened intently to the story, could feel his wife's compassion extending to the young lad whose family had made theirs miserable from the start.

If his wife had her way, she would probably march into Malfoy Manor and rescue the boy.

"Where's Ginny?" he heard Molly asked behind him. They've been stuck by the entrance of the marquee, fending off Death Eaters.

"The last time I saw her, she was with Luna."

"But Luna has already fled with her father," Molly replied, her tone was laced with worry. "Have you seen Harry and Hermione?"

"No, dear. I didn't see them. Maybe they've escaped already," Arthur hoped to Merlin that they had indeed escaped already for their and everyone else's sake. He had to wonder if You-Know-Who somehow found out that Harry would be here. All the people who knew about his disguise were sworn into an oath of secrecy, making it impossible for it to come out. Maybe You-Know-Who just wasn't taking any chances since he knew Harry was close with Arthur's family. But still, he couldn't help but feel suspicious about it.

Arthur stunned another Death Eater before craning his head up above the crowd. He spied the twins and Lee Jordan nearby while Charlie and Oliver Wood were occupied repelling off two Death Eaters. Bill and Fleur had taken off along with the rest of the Delacours to safety. A lone Death Eater was standing there in the middle of the marquee, unmoving. Odd, Arthur thought.

"Boys!" he called over to them. "You need to leave. Take Lee with you and go!"

"We're not leaving you and mum!" one of the twins shouted back.

"Listen to your father before I go over there myself and hex you two!" Molly snapped.

Fred and George nodded and motioned for Lee Jordan to take their hands. "You know where to go. We'll follow you as soon as we find your sister," Arthur assured his sons before the three disappeared with a loud crack.

"Arthur! I saw Ginny!" he heard Molly said from behind him. Arthur turned to see Ginny with Harry in his Polyjuiced form who had just finished disarming a Death Eater. Molly didn't waste any moment and dragged Arthur towards the two.

"Thank goodness, you two are okay," he said in a low voice when they reached them. "Harry, you need to get out of here."

"I can't, Mr. Weasley. Have you seen Ron and Hermione?" Harry asked him. "Have they taken them?"

Arthur shook his head. "Ron was injured but Remus took him to safety."

"And Hermione?"

"I don't—"

"Oh, no! Arthur!" Molly shouted and Arthur felt his blood drain from his face when he saw what his wife was yelling about. There on the other side of the marquee was Hermione being attacked by three hooded figures. There was a gash on her left cheek and part of her dress was singed. She was barely holding on but considering that she was battling three experienced Death Eaters… Arthur welcomed the rush of pride and admiration for the intelligent witch who he had considered as his daughter.

"Hermione!" Harry yelled before he took off at breakneck speed followed by Ginny.

"Ginny! Harry!" Molly called after them. Arthur and his wife tried to follow them but their path was suddenly blocked by three Death Eaters.

"Leave us alone!" he snarled but they ignored him and started firing hexes at them instead. At this rate, he and Molly wouldn't be able to reach the kids in time and the effects of the Polyjuice potion would wear off soon, leaving Harry quite exposed. Arthur looked around for help but everyone else was occupied with saving their own lives.

"Hermione, they're after you! Get out of there now!"


Hello, girly. Did you miss me?

Hermione didn't hesitate in cursing Dolohov as soon as he took a step in her direction. "Confringo!" her wand released a bright purple spell but the Dark wizard had managed to deflect it with ease.

"My, my, someone's finally getting vicious," Dolohov purred. "Whatever happened to 'stupefy' and 'expelliarmus', Mudblood? Tired of using the same spells over and over?"

Heat suffused Hermione's cheeks at the derogatory word. "Don't call me that!"

"I will call you whatever name I want, you filth," he snapped. "And this time, you won't be able to silence me. Crucio!"

Hermione ducked just in time, narrowly avoiding the Cruciatus curse but her body collided with one of the tables, tripping her. She fell over, her left arm taking the brunt of the impact. A gash marred her cheek but she ignored the pain. Hermione sent a full body-bind curse but it was also deflected. "Shit," she hissed.

"Is that all you got, Mudblood?" Dolohov smirked. "Reducto!"

"Protego! Diffindo!" she fired the spells in rapid succession, shielding herself from his curse while firing offensive quickly after. Dolohov nearly missed the spell, hitting the side of his mask instead and it shattered completely, revealing his face. Hermione noticed he looked more deranged than the last time she fought him in the Department of Mysteries, making him probably more unhinged than Bellatrix. A brief look of surprise and fear flashed across his features but Hermione didn't have the time to rejoice in it because out of nowhere, a spell hit her side, flinging her a few feet away. She could smell something burning and realized the fringes of her dress were sizzling, tendrils of black smoke coming out of it. Looking up, she noticed two more Death Eaters had joined Dolohov. Great. Just my luck!

They started advancing towards her and Hermione scrambled back as fast as she could. Dolohov waggled a finger in front of him. "Not so fast, Mudblood. If the Dark Lord didn't want you alive, I would've killed you this instant. I've actually invented a new spell just for you but alas, that will have to wait until our Master is finished with you."

"What the—"

"Carpe Retractum!" a rope of light sprouted from the tip of Dolohov's wand. It went straight for Hermione but to her relief, it was immediately fended off.

Harry and Ginny came into view, taking a defensive stance in front of her. Hermione's heart started racing. She could see some of Harry's dark hair already sprouting out of the red curly ones, the effects of the potion already wearing off. Why is he still here?

"Kill the two redheads but leave the girl alive!" Dolohov ordered.

"Stupefy!"

"Crucio!"

"Expelliarmus!"

"Sanguis Exumai!"

Ginny managed to avoid the spell easily, her Quidditch training gladly paying off now in the duel but Hermione knew they could only keep it up for so long. Suddenly, Arthur's voice cut across the crowd.

"Hermione, they're after you! Get out of there now!"

It suddenly all made sense now. Dolohov's words a few minutes ago. If the Dark Lord didn't want you alive, I would've killed you this instant. They weren't after Harry. They were after her!

"Lacarnum Inflamari!" Using her father's momentary distraction, Ginny managed to hit one of the Death Eaters beside Dolohov, setting his cloak aflame. Harry followed it with a body binding curse, fully incapacitating it. Hermione joined in the fray and soon the other Death Eater was immobilized, leaving only Dolohov standing. Hexes started firing back and forth. Dolohov may be a seasoned duelist but he was bound to get tired eventually and the three of them managed to overpower him with Harry sending him sailing across the marquee.

"We need to go!" Hermione cried as she pulled out the worn toy from her beaded bag. Apparating was out of the question when she knew they could track her magical signature. Using an illegal portkey, however, would give them a head start. "Grab on to it quickly!"

Harry seized one of the stuffed animal's leg while Ginny caught hold of the head. Hermione muttered the password and soon sensed the familiar hooking sensation behind her navel. It was when her vision had started to distort that Hermione noticed a pale masculine hand touched the portkey at the very last second, cold fingertips brushing against her knuckles and part of the toy.

Hermione looked up and her blazing hazel eyes met icy blue ones. She could only stare in horror as she saw Lucius Malfoy being transported with them.


AN: So there you have it. The golden quadruple are finally together in the next chapter.