Chapter Three

Never in her entire life had Hermione woken up in bed next to a wizard. Or a Muggle man for that matter. Of course she'd been curious what it would be like to go to bed with someone and wake up in their arms. When she watched it happen to other people in movies she'd been fascinated, eager to experience the same for herself. Usually they took it for granted like they'd done it a thousand times and would do it a thousand times again. Still a novelty to her, she didn't know what to do next.

She stared at Ron as he continued to peacefully sleep. The bed they shared was hardly big enough for one person. Adding in a second meant there was nowhere for either of them to go where their bodies wouldn't be touching. It all seemed delightfully inappropriate. What would her mother think if she knew where she was?

The casual thought about her parents was a sharp pain to her heart. Almost like she'd been stabbed, she knew without reservation that she'd never been in so much pain before. How could she keep going knowing what she did to her poor, unsuspecting parents? They trusted her and she betrayed them. Maybe she was too hasty in her decision. It was entirely possible that she'd overreacted. They weren't really in danger, were they?

Remembering her unexpected repeat visitor she knew they were. For whatever reason, Rowle wanted her to leave and was pleased to know she'd taken steps to shield her parents from the most dangerous parts of their world. If a Death Eater thought she was right, did that mean she'd fallen into his trap? She couldn't shake the feeling that some part of the monster really did care. Likely he didn't even see himself as a monster. It was all too much, all too overwhelming. Would she even make it to the other side of the war?

Hermione didn't even feel the hot tears rolling out of her eyes until Ron began to gently brush them away with his fingertips. Lost in her own thoughts, she didn't even notice him wake up. He placed a tender kiss on her forehead.

"Are you feeling any better this morning?"

No words came out of her mouth when she tried to speak. It would be inaccurate to assure him she was fine when she was anything but. He understood. For being such a frustrating boy at times, Ron could be perceptive. Like with most other wizards, especially their age, it just didn't happen very often.

"Dumb question, I know."

His self-deprecation drew the smallest of smiles out of her. She was too afraid she would burst into tears if she tried to speak. Ron wrapped his arms around her back to pull her close. She could breathe a little easier with the physical reminder she wasn't completely alone. After several minutes of listening to the pounding of his heart, she felt calm.

Ron was the one to kiss her first. Alone in bed for the first time, it felt exceptionally naughty and grown up. There was nothing concerning in his kiss, nothing that made her scared or uncomfortable. She felt perfectly safe and at ease. Hardly more than just a press of their lips, they were interrupted by the door opening before they could do much else.

"Oi, Ginny! Go away."

"Mum's on her way up the stairs. What do you think she'll say when she finds Hermione in bed with you?"

None of them wanted to find out. Ginny wasn't even finished with her announcement before Hermione's feet were on the floor.

"How did you know I was here?"

Ginny rolled her eyes.

"I heard Ron stomping up the stairs last night and your voice. Mum would've heard it too if Bill hadn't put a silencing charm on her door to keep her from hearing him sneak into Fleur's room."

Clearly annoyed with her brothers, the younger witch rolled her eyes again. Without a second to spare, Hermione was composed with her shoes on the very second Molly Weasley came walking through the door. She paused when she saw the newest arrival.

"Hermione, dear, when did you get here?"

"Just a few minutes ago, Mum. I brought her straight here to wake Ron up."

Seeing nothing at all suspicious in her daughter's explanation, Molly turned her full attention to her son.

"Time to get up, Ronald. We have a busy day."

The nearly constant activity at the Burrow was exactly what Hermione needed to keep her mind occupied as much as possible. It was difficult to dwell too long on her parents when there was so much to do. Not only were they preparing to host Bill and Fleur's wedding, a lot needed to be done before it was safe to bring Harry. Every spare moment she had she continued packing her beaded bag with everything she thought might be needed on their hunt for Lord Voldemort's horcruxes. They had to be ready to leave at a moment's notice.

Molly was careful to make certain Hermione was never left alone with Ron. At first she suspected the witch was just being an overprotective mother. Hermione understood it wasn't appropriate for them to be by themselves locked up in Ron's bedroom, especially at night. A few days passed before she understood Molly's actions were more than that. Sensing they were making plans that would no doubt be dangerous, she didn't want to give them the opportunity to coordinate or strategize. It was sweet, if a bit misguided. What they were going to do was for the benefit of everyone. If something dreadful happened to one or all of them, she hoped Molly would understand.

No matter how busy Hermione tried to keep herself, she never could stop thinking about the bizarre and uncomfortable encounters she had with three different Death Eaters. Nothing would ever convince her that they weren't related. Coincidences were rarely genuine. Was there some sort of devious plan that included drawing her away from Harry? It was all that made any sense. Was Draco there to provide information about her that no one else would know but a classmate? Was Dolohov there to frighten her senseless so she would run away without thinking of anyone but herself? Was Rowle there to act like he cared about her? To manipulate the innate biological desire nearly all women had to be protected?

She was driving herself mad asking questions that had no answers. If Voldemort's plan was to eliminate her from the equation to expose Harry and his vulnerabilities, it was working. Unable to talk to anyone about her visits, she could only go over them in her head repeatedly to the point of madness. The madman might break her even from a distance.

Each time Ron was able to catch her in a rare moment alone to pull her into his arms, she couldn't help thinking about Rowle. It angered her that she couldn't even enjoy a simple, sweet moment without the brute popping into her head to ruin it all. How could she forget how he pulled her against his broad chest to offer her comfort? Or how she was almost certain he would've kissed her if her mother hadn't interrupted? Would she have let him get that far? What would it feel like to kiss a dangerous man? She hated herself for her thoughts. They felt like betrayal.

When the day finally arrived that Harry was going to be brought to the Burrow, Hermione was glad for the distraction. The worst part about wartime she'd already discovered was the never-ending waiting. Was it any wonder so many soldiers went mad waiting for the next battle? The expectation could be worse than the reality. To a small degree, Hermione thought she understood. Having a tangible goal helped keep her spirits up. Terrified out of her mind, at least she would be doing something.

All of the participants involved in the complicated plan to bring Harry safely out of harm's way stood out in the back garden reviewing the details. 'Risky' didn't seem like a strong enough adjective to describe the insanity. She didn't want to negatively impact the morale of their group, so she kept her mouth shut. What good would voicing her concerns be? There were few other choices that would work and they were running out of time. Why anyone would ever take a suggestion from Mundungus Fletcher was beyond her, but no one asked for her opinion. Maybe if they had she would've reminded them all that Mundungus never had a good idea. Something was bound to go terribly wrong.

She was glad when Kingsley Shacklebolt stood next to her and informed her they were to be partners on the mission. Knowing he would be fighting next to her helped lessen some of her anxiety. He was a very powerful wizard she trusted with her life. What else could she ask for? As she watched several of the participants mount broomsticks, she felt a churning worry in her stomach.

"I'm a terrible flyer, Kingsley."

"Nothing to worry about, my dear. I'll be there to keep you from falling off."

Without warning Kingsley placed his two large hands around her waist and tossed her straight into the air. A frightened scream exploded out of her. What was the man thinking? Only when she felt the warmth of a living, breathing creature underneath her did she realize he was helping her mount the thestral she couldn't see. He easily jumped up behind her.

"You could've warned me what you were doing."

"The thestral was right beside us the entire time we… oh, you can't see it, can you?"

She shook her head. Visible only to those who had witnessed death with their own eyes, she'd only seen pictures of what they looked like. Kingsley slid his non-wand arm around her waist to keep her steady.

"I'm sorry. After you lot rode them to the Ministry, I just assumed you could see them."

"I wish I could… no, that's a terrible thing to say."

His arm tightened around her slightly in an effort to comfort.

"I hope you never can see them."

Flying through the air a second time in her life on an invisible animal was no less terrifying than the first. Kingsley's presence helped as they made their way to Harry's aunt and uncle's home. When he realized she had her eyes closed, a deep chuckle rose out of his shaking chest.

"You weren't exaggerating when you said you were a terrible flyer."

"I'm marginally better on a broomstick. At the very least I can hold on with more confidence. I don't know why I couldn't just ride your broomstick."

Kingsley failed to suppress a snort at her poor choice of words. Were all wizards incapable of maturing past their teenage years? She felt her cheeks burn.

"I mean, I don't know why I couldn't just ride with you on a broomstick. I don't take up much space. I'm small. Surely your broomstick is big enough…"

Another snort.

"You're terrible, Kingsley."

"You're not the first witch to tell me that."

"And I doubt I'll be the last."

The night air was cooler up high in the sky. She wished she'd dressed warmer. A shiver went through her entire body. Evidently used to situations like they were in due to his many years as an auror, Kingsley was well-prepared. Had he ever had to fight dark wizards while flying through the air before? He pulled Hermione back on the thestral so her back was flush against his chest. His cloak covered them both quite comfortably. With her eyes still firmly closed, she could almost relax. She matched the steady rise and fall of his chest with her own breaths. If he was nervous, he didn't show it. She thought she could learn a lot from the auror about remaining calm under intense pressure.

Long before she was ready for the next step of their journey, signals were made to begin the descent into the Dursleys' garden. She only realized what was happening when the angle changed slightly and the pressure of Kingsley's arm around her tightened. It was easy to feel the thestral's feet land on the ground even if she couldn't see it. Grateful that they made it in one piece, she didn't protest when Kingsley carefully pulled her down to the ground.

"You really are small." He lowered his voice to a whisper only she could hear. "Any time you want to ride my broomstick, Little Witch, I won't mind."

Knowing he was teasing her in an effort to keep her calm, she had to laugh. She slapped his arm lightly with the back of her hand. Even she couldn't deny that with those sorts of inappropriate thoughts running through her mind, she wasn't nearly as frightened about their mission as she had been just moments before. The wizard winked and chuckled. Whether he was serious or not didn't matter. It was enough to make her smile.

There was chaos inside the house the moment everyone stepped inside. Relieved to see Harry again after what felt like an eternity, Hermione rushed across the room to hug him tightly. Time was of the essence. It was dangerous to linger longer than absolutely necessary. Moody had already begun barking orders at everyone to drink their polyjuice.

It had always been Hermione's hope that after her nightmare in second year of accidentally turning herself into a part-cat abomination that she would never have to drink the foul potion again. Of course reality rarely met a person's every expectation. Knowing it was all to keep Harry protected, she gulped it down.

There was no adequate way to describe what it felt like to transform into another person. Perhaps it would've been less uncomfortable if the change happened instantaneously instead of taking nearly a minute. Once Hermione was an exact replica of her best friend, she tried to keep her mind focused on the mission ahead and not how weird it felt to be trapped in a body that wasn't hers, especially considering she possessed parts she never had before. Even as she followed the other Harrys' leads to strip down in the middle of the room with no care for modesty, she felt a twinge of guilt. How uncomfortable must it be for Harry to see himself in various stages of undress?

She tucked away her own clothes in one of the pockets that had been enlarged with an undetectable extension spell. Moody gave her credit for inspiring the idea when he was announcing the details of the plan back at the Burrow. Because the polyjuice would wear off in an hour, the moment they were all dressed, more impatient orders and demands for urgency were given by Moody. Knowing that delay would make it all worse, Hermione gladly allowed Kingsley to toss her back onto the thestral.

"Oomph."

Because her landing had been less than graceful, a new kind of pain spread throughout Hermione's body. Feeling the sudden urge to retch and wanting nothing more than to slide back down to the ground into the fetal position until the pain went away, she had a newfound sympathy for the wretched souls curse with the appendage on a full-time basis. Kingsley hopped behind her with an agility she envied. Sensing her discomfort, he chuckled again.

"Sorry. Should've warned you to mind your bits. Don't worry. You'll get used to them."

"I should hope not. I never want to hear the word polyjuice again."

"Good. You're much better looking than Harry."

Once they were up in the air all teasing and joking stopped. Kingsley moved her close to his chest again, but only to make it easier for him to brace the outside of her borrowed legs with his strong thighs. He would need both of his hands free if there was any trouble. She was grateful he hadn't forgotten his promise to keep her from falling off.

From the first moment she spotted the dark robes of the Death Eaters surrounding their Dark Lord, Hermione was certain she was going to die. Without the benefit of the Felix Felicisshe'd had months earlier while fighting the Death Eaters the night Dumbledore died, she feared her luck would run out. Never in her entire life had she been more afraid. She was relieved that instinct took over. Spells and curses flew out of her wand at a rapid rate of intensity she would've been impressed by if she was a safe, neutral observer. Kingsley showed no fear. Even as curses were thrown their way and Voldemort himself paid them special attention, he didn't flinch.

She cast every single jinx or hex or curse she could think of to keep the enemies away. Just the simple fact that she was alive enough to keep casting encouraged her not to give up when it seemed impossible they would make it out in one piece. All of her focus had to be on what was happening right in front of her. Despite hearing shouts and pained screams all around, she couldn't be distracted by what the others were doing. She had to trust they could take care of themselves.

The only moment of hesitation she experienced was when she stared directly in the red eyes of the evil madman responsible for so much pain and destruction. Knowing a monster like Voldemort existed was terrifying enough. Having him stare in her eyes was indescribable. Unable to think of any other spell, she cast a stunner that was easily batted away. The relief she experienced watching Voldemort fly away was short. Was she terribly unconvincing as Harry? Could her failure to convince him be what got her best friend killed? How could she live with the guilt of knowing she had the opportunity to keep him from getting killed and failed?

Just because they were no longer a target of Voldemort didn't mean they were out of danger. She had to make the decision to push away her fears. Later, she could either worry about them when they were safe or she would be dead and they wouldn't matter. At least five Death Eaters remained to battle. Any one of them could be responsible for their deaths if they underestimated them.

"Fuck!"

In the corner of her eye Hermione could see a Death Eater lose his mask thanks to one of Kingsley's spells. The auror was angry about something, but she didn't dare ask him to explain. Not yet. She had her own concern to spare a thought for the Death Eater Kingsley was dwelling. He was more than capable of fighting without her help.

Hermione's attention was on the massive Death Eater firing curses in her direction. There was no question in her mind that it was Thorfinn Rowle. All of his spells were quick, but erratic, even careless. The night Dumbledore was murdered he'd killed one of his fellow Death Eaters with an avada straight to the face because of his reckless behavior. Very few people were as big as him. Even with a mask he stood out.

She felt a reluctance to cause the wizard pain to her surprise. It was a temporary madness she couldn't rationalize. Even as he tried his damnedest to kill her, she could only cast shield charms. Thorfinn left himself open for an attack. With anyone else the mistake might have lost him his life. Knowing she couldn't just refuse to fight, Hermione cast the first spell she could think of.

"Diffindo!"

Thorfinn bellowed in outrage and pain as a deep cut several inches long appeared on his shoulder. Blood poured out of the wound. Unable to lift his wand arm, he knew he couldn't keep fighting. She felt her shoulders relax the moment he pointed his broomstick towards the ground to escape from the melee.

Only a short time passed from when they first spotted a Death Eater and when they were able to get away, but to Hermione it felt like she'd always been fighting. The sounds of the battle became memories, echoes. She nearly cried when she felt the thestral begin to descend. Was it possible it was over?

Once they landed in the back garden of a house Hermione didn't recognize, Kingsley helped her down to her feet. He pat the thestral's back.

"Thank you for the ride. You can go home now."

Though she still couldn't see it, a miracle considering they'd been fighting for their lives, Hermione felt the rush of air from its flapping winds. Reality came crashing down. Unable to hold her weight up any longer, she collapsed to the grass in an undignified heap. Everything she still held in her stomach erupted out of her mouth. She couldn't make it stop.

"You're all right, Little Witch. You're safe now."

Kingsley knelt on the ground next to her tenderly rubbing her back. When she couldn't throw up anything else, the trembling began. All of the fear she didn't allow herself to feel up in the air could no longer be ignored.

"You fought brilliantly, love. It's perfectly normal to feel this way after a battle. Now, let's get you inside for some water."

She was grateful for his soothing presence. His strong arms easily lifted her back to her feet. Harry's features were already beginning to disappear. Kingsley pushed open the kitchen door and welcomed her into his home.

"Are you sure you're not injured?"

"I'm okay."

Not fully trusting her to tell him the whole truth, Kingsley checked her over himself. When he was satisfied she was all right, he removed a clean glass from the cupboard next to the sink.

"Who was the wizard whose mask you knocked off?"

He sighed, frustration easy to spot.

"Felix Travers. I've never liked the arsehole much to begin with, but I was angry because he was supposed to be in Azkaban. I escorted him there myself. There must have been a breakout we don't know about."

"I saw Antonin Dolohov in Flourish and Blotts."

The glass of water nearly slipped from his hands when she made her confession. He was startled and angry.

"When?"

"Two weeks ago. He cornered me. Threatened me."

Kingsley's eyes were wide with a mixture of shock and a little fear. No longer able to meet his gaze, Hermione stared at the water in her hand.

"He's one of the worst there is. Dangerous and heartless. Never gave a damn about another person as long as he lived."

"I know. He almost killed me in the Department of Mysteries. You don't have to tell me I should be worried."

"Why didn't you tell anyone?"

She shrugged her shoulders, unsure how to answer. A normal person would've reported seeing a fugitive Death Eater out roaming freely in public. Why didn't she? Kingsley squeezed her shoulder. He seemed to understand better than she did.

"It must've been frightening to see him when you were alone."

"It was."

"Promise me you'll be careful. If you see that bastard again, do whatever it takes to get away from him. I mean it, Hermione. Anything."

All she could offer him in response was a nod of her head. She didn't trust herself to speak. Her throat felt too tight and the urge to throw up the tiny sips of water she just consumed was strong.

"There is nothing too devious, too deceitful when you're trying to survive. Your enemies won't fight fair, Hermione. Don't you dare try to either. Fight just as nasty, just as dirty as you need to to make sure you make it out."

Their portkey back to the Burrow was ready just seconds later. They held on to it together. Chaos greeted them. Before he returned to personally guard the Muggle Prime Minister, Kingsley sought Hermione out to hug her close once more.

"Please be safe, Hermione. Remember what I told you. Nothing is off limits when you need to survive."