Author's Note

I don't have a beta, sorry. Please forgive any spelling and/or grammar errors. I hope you enjoy it, please let me know what you think!

I'll write the next couple chapters, but if there isn't more interest, I won't continue, so please let me know what you think! I'm sure this storyline seems pretty obvious, but it was the best reason I could come up with as an excuse for them to sleep together right away. The rest afterwards should be fairly unique though. Also, I know Brockdale Bridge is supposed to be a footbridge, but it's more dramatic this way.

I'm not J.K. Rowling, so I don't own anything.

Ch 2: Discovery

Tension permeated the air in the Granger household, thick and oppressive like the summer heat on an afternoon in August. It'd been this way since her parents had picked her up from the train station the day before. Several times Hermione had tried to strike up a conversation, but to no avail. Stranger still, her parents had taken the day off work and were having hushed conversations that immediately stopped anytime she walked into the room.

The whole situation made her feel like an intruder or unwelcome guest. Part of her understood that she'd spent most of her breaks with the Weasleys or chosen to remain at Hogwarts instead of coming home to visit her parents, but things should not be this awkward.

She was so uneasy that she'd retreated to her room after lunch to start reading the books she'd gathered from the headmaster's office. They were filled to the brim with many disturbing and strangely fascinating bits, but so far the only relevant parts she'd read about were how to create a Horcrux – a truly nasty business involving murdering someone in order to tear the castor's soul apart – and that remorse would repair the fractured soul.

Considering Voldemort wasn't likely to feel bad about the dozens of people he'd murdered, it didn't offer much in the way of a solution.

No wonder Dumbledore had so much trouble. It didn't bode well for herself, Ron and Harry either.

The sound of her dad's raised voice prevented her from continuing, and she headed downstairs to investigate. It was past time for supper anyways.

"No, no, that's fine. You're probably right that it was junkies looking for a quick score. We don't keep much in stock," her dad said wearily, rubbing a hand over his face. Never had Hermione seen him appear so visibly exhausted. He looked drained.

"What happened?" she asked, glancing from her dad to her mum, who was wringing her hands and pacing, clearly agitated.

"I'll try to come by the station in the morning after I check out the damage," her dad promised, nodding despite the person on the phone being unable to see him.

"Our office was vandalised today," her mum answered, looking ready to burst into tears.

"What?" Hermione gasped. Her parents were dentists. "Why would anyone target your office?"

"I can't believe it," her mum muttered, shaking her head as her dad pulled her into his arms.

"Were they looking for drugs?" Hermione asked, trying to make sense of things and recalling the junkie term just mentioned.

"The police think so. That or gangs. Apparently they left a bit of graffiti," he said angrily.

That office was where her parents met. They were both older at the time, Hermione coming along even later in life for them. Her mum had already been working there for a few years when her dad moved to London after a messy divorce and was looking to start over. From the way they told the story, it'd been love at first sight, though they'd danced around one another for almost two years because her mum didn't want to be a rebound. Finally, her dad had arranged an elaborate scene with candles and roses at the office to officially ask her out on a date. They'd been together ever since. The whole thing had always seemed rather romantic to Hermione, and she'd longed to experience something similar herself.

Of course she'd resigned herself to the fact Ron would never be one for romantic gestures, but perhaps she could still have a happily ever after.

Hermione shook off her musing, knowing it wasn't the time for fantasies or schoolgirl notions. But then one word struck her, and tentatively, she asked, "Graffiti?"

"Yes. They burned images of snakes and skulls on the walls," he answered flatly, forehead creasing.

Hermione's world spun. Death Eaters. They'd targeted her family. They must have known whose office it was. They'd done it to get to her.

She had to do something, say something. How could she protect her parents?

"I've been telling you for months that London has changed. I don't feel safe here anymore," her mum declared, voice trembling.

"I know, but what are we supposed to do? The rest of England isn't faring much better. You saw what –"

The sharp tapping of an owl's beak against the window interrupted his rant, signalling the arrival of the Evening Prophet.

"Er, sorry," Hermione muttered, rushing over to collect the latest news.

She'd barely untied it from the owl when the headline jumped out at her. "Death Eaters Attack Brockdale Bridge, Almost a Hundred Muggles Dead."

Hermione stared, stunned beyond comprehension. A hundred dead? All those poor people… What had the Death Eaters done? Just collapsing the newly built bridge spanning the Thames would have killed several, mostly those unable to exit their vehicles, but a hundred? The Death Eaters must have done something to the cars. How horrible!

And out in the open too. She opened the paper to the next page and saw a different article citing a Muggle attack in Falmouth. Three incidents in one day. So this was it. The war had begun in earnest.

"That was caused by magic?" her mum asked quietly, staring at the front page Hermione had quickly turned back to.

"I guess," Hermione answered absently, busy scanning the article for mention of the Order. Hopefully no one she knew had been injured or killed.

"It's been all over the news today. All those people died, and now you're telling me that-that witches like you killed them?" her mum asked shrilly. The changing tone had Hermione's head snapping up, and the sight that greeted her was one she never could have prepared herself for.

Her parents, both of them, looked utterly terrified of her.

She'd heard other Muggleborns talk about how their parents reacted to learning of their abilities, so of them truly awful, but it'd never been like that for her. They might not understand anything happening in her life, but they were happy that she was happy. Hermione told them she was excelling, and they celebrated that fact.

But this…. Well, it certainly wasn't like that.

"Not like me," she said, the words tasting of saw dust and leaving her parched. Her tongue had grown ten sizes too big. Had she eaten a ton tongue toffee without realising it? Surely that would explain why she wasn't defending herself more ardently or saying more than, "Death Eaters did."

"Death Eaters," her father repeated, revulsion for the moniker clear on his face.

It suddenly occurred to Hermione that perhaps she shouldn't have kept her parents ignorant of all that had transpired since she'd started Hogwarts. There was probably a way she could have told them that hadn't involved divulging everything, but she'd always been such a crummy liar that she'd decided her best bet was to avoid sharing anything at all. The only thing her parents knew she got up to was achieving top marks in every subject.

Always, there had been this fear that if they knew, they'd try to stop her from returning. Out of love, yes, but they cut her off from her friends and the life where she could be herself. Apparently, she wasn't wrong to fear that.

"They attacked the bridge," she tried, not really knowing where to begin. Then it was as though a damn burst and words rushed out in a jumble, "They must have decided to take the war public since they can't get to Harry. Voldemort keeps failing to kill him. Or maybe it was to lure the Order out? I'm not sure, but –"

"War? Attack? Harry? Wait, your friend Harry?" her mum exclaimed, panic and confusion spreading through the room like a pandemic.

"Yes," Hermione confirmed, knowing at once she'd not approached the situation properly.

"That's it. We're moving," her father announced.

"You're leaving?" Hermione parroted dumbly.

"We're leaving. It isn't safe here anymore – for any of us," he corrected, staring at her meaningfully.

"You want all of us to leave the UK?" she asked, needing clarification. Then, more incredulously, she insisted, "I can't just leave. I have responsibilities. Harry needs my help to destroy Voldemort!"

Never would it have occurred to her that they'd expect her to move as well. She'd been a legal adult in the wizarding world for nearly a year now. But worse was the way her parents were staring at her like she was a stranger.

"Imagine, someone trying to hurt your friend, and you didn't even tell us," he accused. "And now you're telling us you're helping destroy someone?"

"We've handled it," Hermione said defensively, too stunned not to react. Oh, why couldn't she find the right words? Never had they alluded her as they were just then.

"We never should have let you go to that school in the first place. We know nothing about what happens there, and you've obviously been keeping secrets," her mum said, burying her face in her hands and sinking into a chair at the table. "We've failed you."

"What? No! You taught me to stand up for a worthy cause and fight injustice. That's what I've been doing! You raised me to –"

"You're a child! Our child," her mum said passionately, tears beginning to run freely down her face. "And now you're discussing a war as though it were ordinary. You're speaking as though you've been involved in fighting this – this war."

"I have," she admitted quietly.

No one spoke.

Hermione wanted to argue, but found she couldn't. It was too easy to see the hurt and betrayal and fear that her parents were experiencing. To them, she was a child not yet done with school. It was their job to protect her and raise her to become anything she wished.

But she wasn't that child. Not anymore. Not for a long time, really. Not since she'd accepted a place at Harry's side fighting Voldemort. She didn't want to be a soldier, but she also couldn't stand by and do nothing. Too many others already did that.

She couldn't tell them that the plan was never for her to return to Hogwarts, but to go off fighting. They'd never support the decision. And now that the Death Eaters knew where her parents worked, it wouldn't take them long to find them or track them to her house. Either place was too dangerous for them.

They were right. They had to leave the UK. Immediately. It was the only way to save them.

But she also knew they'd never willingly leave without her.

"You're right. I love you both so much," she said thickly, a plan taking shape in her mind and becoming more solid by the second. Her eyes stung, and pressure built behind her eyes as she held back a torrent of tears and resolved herself to doing what she felt she had to.

The sigh her father released was massive, and Hermione wondered if he'd been holding his breath as he waited for her to argue. He'd always been the first to call her out on her stubbornness.

"I love you," she repeated, trembling as she pulled out her wand. "Obliviate!"

It was so simple. So easy. No wonder an imbecile like Lockhart had managed the spell. All she had to do was think of herself, of magic, of letters, and it all vanished from their minds. Trickier, was implanting the suggestion that they'd already planned to move and that all the details were taken care of. But she managed.

Guess all the extra reading she'd done while Ron had been busy snogging Lavender had come in useful for something after all.

Her parents slumped to the ground, unconscious when she finished. Memory spells were hard on anyone, but particularly on Muggles. She went ahead and placed a heavy Sleeping Charm on them to keep them that way while she worked.

It was surprisingly easy to race about the house and destroy everything that related to her in any way. She was a pre-programmed machine ticking boxes off a list. Not that it took very long, considering how few momentos existed. It was all evidence that she'd hardly been a part of their lives at all since starting Hogwarts. None of the photos showed her older than eleven-years-old.

Then she booked them tickets on the next available flight to Australia, which luckily was in the morning, packed their bags, and sent a message to a realtor about selling the office and house remotely. That is it. She'd given them enough of a suggestion that they wanted to travel a bit while their properties were sold, then they'd settle in the area they'd best enjoyed.

With her parents taken care of, she went about packing her own belongings and vanishing anything that wasn't going with her. Only the essentials. Everything else was expendable.

Not once did she let herself think on her decision or question it. At least not until she got to the Muggle hotel nearest her house. Remaining in the Muggle world seemed like the safest bet with the turn the war had taken. No one was likely to search for her there, and she could take the time she needed to form a plan and process everything.

Part of her had wanted to go to the Weasleys, to find solace with them and lean on Ron for sympathy, but she didn't feel she deserved any after what she'd done. Besides, he'd never been capable of being sensitive to her emotions before, so it wasn't logical or practical to expect differently from him now. Ron was who he was.

The door had barely closed behind her before she broke down. Her chest tore open and spilled the very blood from her heart. Her soul felt tattered and bruised, banged repeatedly against rocks as it was dragged through class five rapids.

A million different ways to handle the situation came to mind, and she mentally flagellated herself for not thinking of them sooner and not taking a breath before acting. Harry and Ron were the reckless ones, not her.

But it was too late to change anything, and the only way to make any of it all right was to accomplish the goal she'd ultimately made the sacrifice for. Destroy Voldemort.

The books she'd appropriated were the only things that took her mind off of her parents – even if it did take her a week to stop mourning and berating herself enough to open them. By the time she finished reading the third one, she understood why Dumbledore had intended the sword to be used to destroy the Horcruxes. It was imbued with Basilisk venom, and only the most potent Dark elixirs could destroy a Horcrux, the ones that only Phoenix tears could counter. There were no other antidotes.

It really was too bad that Basilisks were so rare. They didn't even have any other remnants of the one Harry had killed in the Chamber of Secrets. At least not since the summer after it happened. Ginny had been struggling so much in the aftermath, that her parents had agreed to go with Dumbledore back to the place where her ordeal happened. The five of them had gone down and watched as Dumbledore used his considerable magic to incinerate the remains. Dust to dust, and ashes to ashes.

At the time, Dumbledore had thought seeing it happen would help Ginny cope and move forward. It had worked, but it left them at an unfortunate disadvantage now.

There were two other potions listed, but she already knew the first wasn't possible. She recalled learning about it in Muggle Studies, of all classes. It had been referenced as a reason for animosity between Muggles and wizards because one of the necessary ingredients had gone extinct due to human activities, and now it was impossible for wizards to make. Hermione wasn't sure it was entirely Muggles' fault for the extinction, but she had understood the point that Professor Burgage had been trying to make – we're all connecting and what one side does can impact the other.

The other suggestion must have been the one the heads had mentioned. There was nothing specifically mentioned in the book about ingredients or directions, but it did reference the book where that information could be found, and thanks to the time she'd nicked ingredients from Snape's private stores, she knew he had a copy of the book.

When Professor Slughorn had taken over, he'd not redecorated the classroom or made any changes. Probably, it was because he was too busy cozying up to important students for his temporary position to bother. With any luck, Snape had left his potions-related belongings in the classroom since they weren't needed to teach Defence. And considering the hurry Snape had left in, there was a chance it was still there.

Obviously there were no guarantees, but it wouldn't hurt to check either.

She went early the next morning, unwilling to put it off and let nerves talk her out of doing it – something she wished had happened with her parents. But apparently behaving recklessly was working for her, because the trip there was easier than expected.

She'd cast a Disillusionment Charm and snuck into Honeydukes before using the passage to enter the castle. She figured it would be easiest if no one else was aware of her unsanctioned visit – particularly since it was to steal yet another book from a professor. Having to answer Professor McGonagall's questions was not on her agenda. The whole journey was completed in less than an hour with no hiccups.

A simple Alohomora was all it took to enter the empty Potions classroom after that, and the book was right where she remembered it from second year. As though it was waiting for her to need it.

Her fingers had barely closed over the spine before the feelings of unease and distrust finally took root. It was all just a bit too convenient. Even the index seemed too straightforward, because she'd found the potion after the briefest of glances and the flipping of a few pages.

That was about the time her luck ran out, and she realised she was in over her head.

It was a poison, certainly, but one unlike any she'd ever encountered. It included several Dark spells performed during brewing, their casting interwoven into the preparation of ingredients, not to mention the ingredients list itself. She didn't even know where she would locate half of the items or if it was possible with Death Eaters acting out in the open now. Knockturn Alley wasn't likely to sell anything to a Muggleborn, particularly not when said Muggleborn was also Harry Potter's best mate.

And some of the things that jumped out at her right away were vile and disturbing. She couldn't imagine having to use such. Whomever first created the potion must have been depraved to bring such a creation into existence and experiment with such.

But what choice did she have?

Resigned, Hermione studied the list more carefully.

8 bones from a murdered infant

10g Ashwinder egg, unhatched ashwinder within

The heart of an animal, freshly slain – whole

3 tsp. Oleander oil

5 drops Virgin's blood mixed with bodily secretions collected after achieving first orgasm. Beside it a note read: The fresher, the more potent.

That must have been the one Dumbledore had been referring to. He believed it would need to come from her.

Hermione was uncomfortable even thinking about it. But honestly, was she really that transparent? Was it so obvious she was completely inexperienced and hadn't been with anyone, let alone tried anything on her own? But really, when was she supposed to? It wasn't like she had a room to herself at Hogwarts or the Burrow, and there was no way she'd have dared in her childhood home with her parents next door.

Regardless, it wasn't that big a deal. So she did what Lavender and Parvati were always tittering about and blushing over when they discussed masturbating, then cut herself and mixed it all up. It was the rest Dumbledore should have been worried about her ability to obtain.

Huffing, she returned to reading the list – the list that only mentioned what all she'd need, without elaborating on how to prepare the items. No, that bit was reserved for the next twenty-two pages.

10 mL Syrup of Arnica

Four petals from a flowering Tormentil, and 9 ounces of dried root

3 mL Iguana blood

6g –

A hand suddenly caught her arm, hauling her up to face the very last person she was prepared to encounter.

Terror seized her. It was all she knew. That, and she probably wasn't making it out of there, so all she'd done was for nothing.

Please keep in mind this is AU. I am aware that details have been changed from the original books, that's part of why this is a fanfiction. Hopefully, you'll enjoy the drama the additional challenges create and you keep reading and reviewing!