Hermione paced the floor of the Floo room, her nerves fraying with every passing minute. Over an hour had passed since she received Harry's urgent message, instructing Greg to keep her at the manor until further notice. The urgency in Harry's tone had set her on edge, filling her with a restless anxiety she couldn't shake. When she had tried to use the Floo, the flames refused to turn green, blocking her from reaching her own home. She had even attempted to Floo the Burrow, but nobody had answered. The frustration mounted as she repeatedly glanced at the fireplace, hoping for some sign, some message from Harry that would tell her what was going on.
Her mind raced with possibilities, each one worse than the last, and the urge to apparate was overwhelming. She turned toward the door, ready to leave, but found her path blocked by Greg. His expression was both firm and concerned. "Hermione, you can't leave," he said, his voice steady but laced with worry. "Potter said it's not safe."
Her frustration bubbled over as she met his steady gaze. "Harry means well, but he's usually overprotective," she said, her voice edged with impatience. "He thinks he has to shield everyone, but he doesn't realize I can handle myself."
Greg stepped closer, his large frame casting a shadow over her. "I know you're strong, Hermione, but this isn't just about you. If he's telling you to stay put, there's a reason. He wouldn't have said it if it wasn't serious." His tone was calm but insistent, and she could see the genuine concern in his eyes.
Hermione bit her lip, torn between her instinct to act and the nagging sense that maybe, just this once, she should listen. "But what if something's happened? What if someone's hurt?" Her voice cracked slightly, betraying the fear she'd been trying to push down.
Greg gently took her hand, his rough fingers tender against her skin. "If something's wrong, Potter will let us know. Right now, we need to trust him. You need to trust him—and me."
Hermione looked up at him, searching his face for any sign of doubt, but all she found was steady resolve. For a moment, she allowed herself to lean into that strength, taking a deep breath as she tried to push aside the anxiety clawing at her.
She whirled around at the sound of the Floo igniting, relief and worry clashing in her chest as the flames finally turned green. Harry Potter stepped out of the fireplace, his Auror robes slightly singed and his face etched with exhaustion.
Before he could even dust himself off, Hermione was on him, a flurry of questions tumbling out of her mouth. "Harry, what's going on? Why couldn't I leave? Why wouldn't the Burrow answer? Is everyone okay? What happened?"
Harry held up a hand, trying to stem the tide of her questions, but the tension in his expression only made her more frantic. "Please, Harry, tell me what's happening!'
Greg moved closer, his presence a steadying force, but Hermione's focus was entirely on Harry. She searched his face for answers, for any sign that things were under control. The silence that hung between them felt like an eternity.
Harry took a deep breath, running a hand through his already messy hair as he braced himself to explain. "Everyone at the Burrow is fine," he began, his voice heavy with the weight of what he had to say next. "But… there's something you need to know. Lavender was found unconscious in her flat. Parvati found her and took her to St. Mungo's."
Hermione's eyes widened, her hand flying to her mouth. "Oh, no… is she…?"
"She'll be fine," Harry reassured her quickly, but his expression remained grim. "But she pressed charges against Ron for assault, at Parvati's insistence. Apparently… this isn't the first time Ron's gotten physical with Lavender when he's been drinking."
Hermione's heart sank, the shock of his words hitting her like a punch to the gut. "Ron?" she whispered, barely able to comprehend what she was hearing.
Harry nodded, his jaw clenched. "After checking that you weren't home, I used ministry spells to shut down your Floo and put up anti-Apparition wards around your home. Ron's gone missing, Hermione, and I couldn't risk him trying to get to you while you're alone. I was worried for your safety."
The room felt like it was spinning. Hermione's thoughts raced, trying to piece together what Harry had just told her. Lavender… Ron… the idea that her old friend could do something like this was unfathomable. "Ron… he's really…?"
Harry's eyes were full of sympathy as he looked at her. "I'm sorry, Hermione. I didn't want to believe it either, but… he's not the same anymore. And until we find him, I need you to stay here, where it's safe."
"No," Hermione said firmly, shaking her head. "I won't be pushed out of my home, my place of business, or my daily life by Ron. I've worked too hard to build my life to let him dictate where I can go or what I can do. I understand the danger, but I refuse to live in fear of him."
Greg put a hand on her shoulder, his voice steady but earnest. "Hermione, I understand you don't want to be driven out of your life, but for now, your safety has to come first. How about this: I'll go everywhere with you. You won't be alone, and we can make sure you stay safe."
He tried to lighten the mood with a wry smile. "After all, I used to guard the Slytherin Prince. Now I can guard the Golden Girl."
Hermione didn't smile back. Her expression remained serious as she replied, "This isn't a joke, Gregory."
"I'd rather you stay in the manor," said Harry,
"Ron isn't the only person in the magical or Muggle world who hates me. Even with the last sighting of Dolohov, you weren't this paranoid. What aren't you telling me, Potter?" Hermione fixed her friend with a sharp glare.
Harry just stared at her in silence, his jaw tight.
"Since when do we have secrets?" Hermione demanded, her voice trembling with anger and hurt. Without waiting for an answer, she turned and stormed off, her emotions propelling her out of the room, leaving Harry and Gregory standing in her wake.
AN: Not JKR. Still Poor. Thanks for read.