November 2001

The lounge in the Potter house was at full capacity for a quick briefing. The members of the Advisory were spread out amongst the others. Hermione was leaning against a table beside two younger Order members. Every few seconds they would steal a glance at her. When Hermione turned to meet their stare head on, they quickly turned their attention back to Arthur and Hestia.

"We're told Yaxley will be leading a strike on Manchester. I'll be leading a team there to head them off. We leave today to start setting up tripwires and enchantments," said Hestia next.

Arthur spoke next. "We'll want to intercept them before they reach the city. We have someone on the inside who gave us the coordinates of where they'll be stopping. They assured us they can get their defenses down so we may strike swiftly."

"So, your source wants us to just kill them all. Isn't that Voldemort's agenda?" Hermione shot back. "Have we taken to purifying the earth for him?"

Arthur's shoulders dropped. "You know it's not what we want. But more lives will be lost if they make it to the city."

Hermione wanted to argue further but she resisted. There were a lot of younger members in attendance, and it made them anxious whenever there were open disagreements.

"Pavarti and you ten will come with me to intercept them," George said pointing out members in the crowd. "The rest will accompany Hestia."

The two boys groaned by her side and Hermione laughed quietly. It would be a while yet until they were assigned to a mission that involved any fighting. Setting up enchantments and tripwires wasn't exciting and glamorous, but at least they'd be safe.

Matthew cleared his throat nervously. "You with us, then?"

Hermione turned to see two nervous, albeit eager, faces looking at her.

"Looks like."

The boys smiled and looked at each other. There was a small not-so-subtle shoving match.

"We could be a unit? Advisory prefers we travel together," Matthew said.

"I'm acutely aware of the Advisory's rules, Matt," said Hermione with a smirk and his face flushed red.

"No! Yeah- course you do," Matt stumbled. "I was just saying. So that you know that I know. I always follow all your rules."

Hermione waited a few more moments before taking pity on him.

"I know you do. You're a good man. The both of you," Hermione watched as their chests swelled with pride. They must have been in their late teens. They really should travel with a more experienced member. "We'll all meet down here at four and then the three of us can travel together."

"Hermione!" Ron called urgently.

"Everything alright? Where's Isla?" Hermione tried to keep her voice even, but Ron was visibly shaken.

"We've got a new defect," Ron said, and Hermione exhaled. She should punch him for being so dramatic.

"See you both later. Pack lightly. It is easy to carry a lot of stuff with enchanted bags but you'll hate yourself if you lose half your wardrobe," Hermione mentored them before turning towards Ron.

Hestia and Neville followed, chatting about their pending trip and which of them was going to do what. Hermione didn't even pay that much mind when she came to a stop outside of the Potter house grounds and looked up to see Astoria was standing between Charlie and Kingsley Shacklebolt.

"We should go somewhere out of the open," Charlie said.

They were standing in the middle of the woods, just outside the boundary of the fidelius charm. Usually, they would meet for interviews at one of the lesser known, and valuable, safehouses. That way even if they were found it wouldn't be a huge loss.

"Why did you bring her here, then?!" Hestia continued.

"We can't just take her anywhere. Everyone, magical and muggle, knows who she is," Shacklebolt explained.

"Exactly. Everyone knows because she is to marry the Dark Lord's Favored! You can't possibly be falling for her tricks?" shouted Hestia.

Hermione had seen Astoria stand up to the Dark Lord at his own table and hardly bat an eye. Now she stood in front of them, trembling. Allowing Kingsley to keep a grip on her arm that had it held at an awkward level.

"They're not getting married anymore," Neville offered.

Before Astoria spoke, she rolled her shoulders back, trying to maintain some dignity. "I've never wanted to be part of Voldemort's Army-"

"Oh please," Charlie exasperated. Rejecting the very idea.

"It's true!" Astoria snapped back, looking him in the eye. "I had no choice. My father was devoted but Daphne and I never were. We never even got the mark!"

Hermione felt a stab of guilt. Astoria was alone without her sister and father around to protect her. Surely Blaise was still looking out for her. He was also so adamant in the past.

"Your father's been dead for nearly three years. Why wait so long to leave?" Hestia questioned further.

Astoria's eyes glazed over, tears threatening to spill again. "I've nowhere to go. I can't even have full reign over my inheritance until I am wed. And that's… I can't rely on that anymore."

"Why not?" Charlie questioned next.

Astoria lifted her chin. Her shoulders were still tight, but she managed to pull her arm from Kingsley's hold. "Is there anyone in the Dark Lord's inner circle you'd be willing to marry Weasley? Or your sister? You can't honestly tell me you don't know what those men are really like. The longer I stay…"

Astoria started to quietly cry. Damn her. She was ruining every image Hermione kept that allowed her to hate her.

"It's not safe for you there anymore," Hermione finished for her. "Not without Malfoy's betrothal."

Astoria's eyes locked on Hermione. Begging and pleading as if they had some secret language between them. "It's been relentless since the engagement's been called off. Everyone wants a claim on my family's wealth. I inherited my father's seat at the Dark Lord's table, but I don't want it. Please. Please."

"They could have sent her here to spy," Charlie continued.

Right as he spoke Arthur and Molly appeared from trees. Molly didn't seem as surprised to see Astoria as the rest of them. Perhaps her source gave her a heads up.

"She's telling the truth," Neville said. All eyes turned to him as he smiled kindly at Astoria. "The time I got taken prisoner into Hogwarts. It was Astoria who helped me escape."

"You said you couldn't remember anything?" Arthur questions.

"I owed her my life. I didn't want to put her in danger," Neville said. Astoria smiled gratefully at him. "I bet if we ask around, we'll find more people with the same story."

"I believe her," Hermione said next. All eyes shot to her, the Weasley's heavier as they knew about her time in the manor. "She stood up for Katie Bell. To Voldemort himself."

Astoria gasped, blinking at Hermione. "How… how do you know about that?"

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck…

"Anthony told me," Hermione said as quickly as the excuse popped into her head. "We should fetch him."

Kingsley nodded. "He's at Post Oxford. We don't need all of us to conduct an interview though,"

"Hestia and I are meant to lead the unit in London," Hermione said.

Interviews were never pleasant. There was a part of her that was masochistic and wanted to hear every detail. But seeing it? She wasn't letting herself give into those feelings anymore. She knew she couldn't take it. Not without a price.

"Head back to the manor and ready the unit, but Hermione you are staying behind this time. We'll need you in the next few days. Charlie can accompany Hestia to London," Kingsley instructed her.

Hermione was going to refuse right then, but she decided to take the permission to leave. Once they got back to Potter house, Hermione helped them prepare and saw them off.

She penned a letter to McGonnell and made her way to the barn. It was short, mostly only an urgent request to return home. McGonagall was a great Leginems, and Hermione was sure she would be the only person the Advisory would select over her to look over Astoria's mind. And Hermione wasn't sure she could handle what she'd find there.

December 2001

"Open the window! I'm roasting," Pansy wailed.

She fanned herself with her hand. Ginny hurried to the window and threw it open. The snow was flurrying outside. In the front garden, there was an enchantment creating a dome over all the chairs and decorations, keeping it safe from the weather.

Hermione walked over to Pansy, casting a cooling charm over her and she started to relax.

"It's nearly freezing here. You need to relax," said Hermione.

Pansy glared at her. "Great advice, Granger. Really. Riveting."

"Pippy can get the miss a calming draught?" Pippy offered generously.

"We'll stick to champagne. Thank you though, Pippy," said Hermione.

Hermione asked Pippy to help them about an hour ago when neither her nor Ginny could figure out how to work the dress robes. It was nice to have her there to translate some of Pansy's demands they were unfamiliar with.

Pansy turned to look at herself in the mirror. Her black hair was in gentle waves just past her shoulders. The apples of her cheeks were pink. Partly from her nerves but also because her face was fully done. The dress robes she wore were elegant, so similar to a gown. The neckline was modest, showing just enough of her collar bone to make her necklace visible. Her bare arms showed through thin material that was draped over her shoulders. It looked more like a vail than a cape.

"This is beautiful," Hermione said genuinely.

Pansy ran her hands over the front, smoothing out the material. "It's Molly's. She wore it to wed Arthur."

Hermione smiled, though Pansy couldn't see her. "It's perfect."

"Technically I am supposed to wear it," Ginny joked.

Pansy scoffed. "You'd have to be willing to marry."

Ginny scrunched her nose. "All yours."

Hermione laughed and grabbed a glass of champagne to help cause Pansy's nerves. She downed it quickly and handed the glass back. Pansy sighed and walked to the window. Looking outside. Pippy trailed after her, still mending the dress to make it perfect.

"Tradition says I'm meant to wear violet. To represent my house," Pansy choked. It was more like she was talking out loud than to the three of them.

Pansy started to fret again, eyes jumping around the yard where they were setting up for the ceremony.

"I suppose it doesn't matter. We're not having a traditional Marriage Rite anyway," Pansy bit. She attempted to sound unaffected, but Hermione knew what it meant to her.

"No one does the Rite anymore," Ginny said, half teasing.

Pansy turned her head towards Ginny. "My family does. I've expected my whole life for it once I got married."

"I'm sorry Pansy. We would do the Rite if we could. But none of us know how," Hermione consoled her. Pansy relaxed, nodding as she took in her words.

Pansy would have to settle for the modern ceremony. It was the one everyone outside of the sacred twenty-eight performed, and they all seemed pleased with it. Hermione even threw in a couple of muggle wedding traditions for fun.

"Erm… Pippy knows," Pippy muttered from behind Pansy an"d she spun around. "Pippy did the Master and Mistress' Rite."

It was like a lightbulb went off and Pansy's entire face lit up.

"Of course! Why didn't you say anything?" Pansy screeched. "Can you do it? Will you. Please?" Pansy was kneeling to look her in the eyes and it looked so much like begging.

"Wow, wow. I think we should run it past George," Ginny interrupted. "The Rite is permanent. Like soul-bonding, forever, permanent! There's a reason sane people don't do it anymore."

"George is okay with it!" George himself shouted through the wall.

"Hey, you're meant to stay away!" Hermione shouted back.

"Sorry, Granger. Looks like we are going with my way after all," Pansy smiled and ran to open the door.

Hermione bit back a smile as she watched her go. George met her with a huge smile of his own. Wasting no time, he pulled her up and pressed his lips against hers. His hand drifted into her hair, careful not to undo any of the work she had already put in.

When it was time to start, George and Pansy walked down the aisle arm in arm. There was a small podium at the front, modestly decorated. Hermione was seated next to Neville behind Ron and Ginny.

Nearly anyone who had access to Potter House was in attendance. In the years since Pansy and George had been together, Molly and she had really taken to each other. No one would have believed it if they hadn't seen it with their own eyes. Yet everywhere there watched them walk down to the front without a hint of skepticism.

Pippy appeared behind the podium, out of sight from the crowd. Pansy and George made their way up until they stood before it. They turned towards each other, and Pansy formally clasped her hands in front of her before George reached out and held them in his.

Everyone was looking and waiting for what happened next. In muggle weddings, the officiant would kick it off.

Pansy glanced from Pippy to George quickly before clearing her throat. "Well… this is usually where our fathers read betrothal contracts and standards. And then we formally agree."

George smiled. "No need for that. I'm all in. All I have is yours."

"You don't even have anything."

"Give me about five minutes."

Pansy glared playfully. "I'm not against being a widow."

George laughed out loud and Pansy joined him. Once some of their nerves fell away, Pansy looked over the podium to Pippy and nodded.

"There's not usually any spectators here for this part," Pansy muttered to George. She looked at the crowd, all eyes on them. "Erm… Pippy. Could you speak the enchantment out loud?"

"Don't we have to say the vows?" George asked.

"Not until the very end and everyone is staring," Pansy growled through her teeth, and he chuckled.

Pippy stepped up so that she could see over the podium. The enchantment she spoke was in an ancient language no one could understand. The guests leaned in, trying to listen closer. All eager to get an insight in the ancient magic that the sacred twenty-eight kept under lock and key since its creation.

George winced, sucking in air through his teeth and then lifted his palm to see that a shallow cut had been made in his hand. Pansy gasped, getting one to match. It would be easy to heal, but it was enough for them to slightly bleed.

"The exchange of the wands," Pippy instructed in English, mostly to George since he had no idea what he was doing.

As soon as they exchanged their wands, Pippy lifted both of her hands, palms out, and crossed one arm in the air. Following the movement of each wand as they went from one hand to the other. The gesture looked vaguely familiar. Once Pansy and George's wand were firmly in each other's hands, a few people in the crowd gasped. Their hands, where they held each other's wands, were glowing.

Hermione had seen it before.

Felt it.

She looked down, almost expecting it to be there again. It didn't stop her magic from prickling angrily against her fingertips.

Hermione shook her head. Her breaths were now coming through her mouth and she looked back up and Pansy and George, who stared at each other admirably. To Pippy who was still moving through the gestures.

The glowing of their hands increased, growing brighter and Hermione felt needles and ice trace all along her body. Neville said something next to her, but Hermione just closed her eyes, waiting for the vertigo to go away.

Time passed slowly and all at once as she worked hard not to draw attention to herself.

There was applause surrounding her and Hermione opened her eyes to see all eyes on Pansy and George, happily skipping back towards the house. People followed them, heading to the foyer to where the celebration would be held. Hermione rose to her feet, feeling weightless.

Neddy wouldn't. She was so loyal to Draco. Why would she do that to him? How could she without them doing their part?

The second floor appeared, and she started running. Pippy would come back and then Hermione would ask her. She would know what Neddy did. Know of a spell or an enchantment that looked and felt like what she just performed but was something different. It had to be.

It was so hard to breathe. Fuck. Pansy was right, It was humid and terrible in here. She should go back outside. The air was sharp and cold and would snap her out of it and let her think straight.

Pansy.

Pansy knew. Her whole life, she said. What a marriage rite was. What would happen, what it looked like.

They all knew.

Hermione leaned against the wall of the corridor from where she sat on the floor alone.

Minutes passed, maybe even an hour, as she stared at the stone in front of her. The muffled sound of celebration was audible inside the house. Occasionally, someone would cheer over the music, or over another, and then laughter would erupt.

Never more in her life did Hermione so desperately want to disappear. Not to hide beneath a cloak, but to vanish entirely. To seep through the floor and into the ground and cease to exist. There was nothing of which she was so sure.

Hermione gave herself two more minutes, counting down in her head. And then she gathered all the resolve she had remaining and used it to rise to her feet, and went back to join her friends.

A/N: I don't know how well received author's notes are so I usually just keep them to AO3. But I just wanted to give the note below, as well as thank you so much for reading!

**SPOILER**

For any anxious readers who would be flipping ahead right now in a normal book, I think I know the question you may have and the answer is two more chapters.

**SPOILER**