With as much homework as they were receiving, Harry as the Quidditch Captain was under the most stress of anyone (besides perhaps Hermione). He was being hounded day and night to set a time for try-outs, something he was pushing off as long as he could. The whole Umbridge Mutiny Club was spread thin to help Hermione, not that anyone was complaining.

It was only when Cho finally brought it up - the Ravenclaw Captain - that he finally picked a time.

"I had people bothering me, Harry," She said with a dramatic sigh, "Pick a time, serious."

"Fine, fine!" Harry grouched, "We'll do it on the fourteenth. Hermione will be gone by then, so I'll have less to worry about," He decided.

Ron pouted, "She's going to miss tryouts?" He asked, eyebrows knitting together.

"It's not like she was going to try out herself," Lavender laughed. Hooch was right when she assessed Hermione as an average flyer."

Ron gave a bark of laughter in the group but slapped a hand over his mouth when no one else joined in.

"It wasn't really a joke, I think," Hermione said, confused, "But she is true."

"I thought it was funny…" Ron mumbled, red as his hair, "I mean, Hermione's been to all the tryouts…" He gave Hermione a puppy-dog look, "Can you stay just for this?"

"And push back all of it? No," Hermione said, and ruffled his hair, "You'll do fine, Ron."

"I'll be there to cheer you all on!" Lavender said brightly, "And I'll drag Parvati."

"That's worse," Ron said, staring down with wide eyes at his shoes.

Lavender looked like she'd been slapped.

"Merlin's sake, Ron!" Ginny said, eyes wide, "Are you dense?"

"No! I just…" He groaned, "You don't have to come…"

"But what if I want to?" Lavender asked, putting a hand on her hip.

Ron's reply was a faint, wheezing squeak, "Fine, I guess?"

Lavender, at the breakfast table, grabbed her things, "Oh, just fine! Maybe I'm coming to support all the Gryffindors who like me, Ron," She said with malice, stomping away.

"Way to be a jerk," Parvati muttered, running after her. Harry shook his head at Ron, and Ginny whispered something in Dean's ear. He snorted into his hand before sending a guilty look at Ron as they left.

"Let's go, Harry, you have a lot to prepare for try-outs," Cho said, tugging him away, "I'll help."

Soon, it was just Ron and Hermione.

"Care to explain what possessed you to be such a massive prat right then?" Hermione asked icily.

Ron hid his face in his arms, face-down at the table. "No," He mumbled.

"Too bad, fess up, Ron."

His response was barely audible.

"What?"

"-I said I have a bloody crush on Lavender, Hermione!" He said louder, wincing as it echoed down the Gryffindor table. Luckily, most had left to get ready for their first class, and only Neville nodded, as though approving.

"Don't worry, the secret's safe with me," Neville assured as he got up.

Ron groaned into his palms.

"Oh." That was really all Hermione could say. A lot of his behavior made sense now; the jitterness whenever she was around, the laughing at her jokes that weren't funny or jokes, the way he always was drifting towards her, subconsciously. Hermione would bet a galleon he'd smelled 'lavender' in potions that day, too!

"If she's at tryouts, she'll totally distract me! I'll perform like a doofus in front of her. I'm so nervous around her lately. She said she liked my hair the other day and I tripped over my own feet!"

"You could explain that to her-,"

"No! No way," Ron's eyes were wide, "What if she doesn't like me? Then I'm still obsessed with her but have the painful knowledge that she just sees me as a friend."

"She's going to the tryouts one way or another," Hermione said with a purr of laughter, "Unless you fess up."

"Rock and a hard place," Ron winced.

"Aren't you a Gryffindor?" Hermione pointed out.

"Not about this I'm not. I'm worse than a Hufflepuff," Ron said, "She's just so…amazing…her hair is so pretty…and she's so funny…and so brave…" He said, dreamily, sighing as he slumped his chin on the table.

"What if she likes you back?" Hermione asked quietly, "What if it all works out?"

"I'm not Harry, the chosen one. I'm not you, the smart one," Ron said, drawing up, looking glum, "I'm just Ron. Who would choose me?"

"Plenty of people!"

"You didn't."

"I thought you were over that?" Hermione winced.

"I am! Really, but…" He sucked in through his teeth, "Hard to forget any rejection."

"I'll put in some good words for you," Hermione offered, feeling helpless.

"Don't be obvious about it," Ron warned, "I'd just about die of embarrassment."

XXX

As her departure date rapidly approached, Hermione became more nervous about the tent situation. She hadn't planned something else, so having the Weasley tent was a necessity.

"They'll get it when they get it!" Ron said when she pestered him for the umpteenth time, "The twins are on their own schedule, being rich business owners now," He added with a dramatic eye roll.

"Okay, sure, but I'm also on a very tight schedule," Hermione replied through gritted teeth.

"They'll make it in time," Ron said dismissively, "Now really, you gotta help me with this Potions essay before you leave- Harry's no help at all!"

In true fashion, the twins did get the tent to her in time, with three whole days to spare. This, according to Ginny, was early for them.

"I expect them to send it the morning of," She said honestly when Hermione dropped badgering Ron about it and instead targeted Ginny.

Instead, the twins smuggled themselves back into Hogwarts and nearly gave Hermione a heart attack by grabbing her from behind a statue and dragging her into a classroom.

"You were two seconds away from being piles of goo!" Hermione snapped, shoving her wand back in her pockets angrily.

"I have no doubt," George chuckled.

"Wait; how'd you get in?" Hermione asked, "I doubt McGonagall would let you in the front door."

"Oh, for shame! You think that people who knew how to get out of the castle wouldn't know how to get back in?" Fred puffed, offended at the question.

She supposed they weren't wrong.

"Do you have my tent?" She asked flatly.

"And so much more," George said, offering his hand where their family tent - magically shrunk - sat on his palm.

"More?" Hermione asked, narrowing her eyes, "What do you mean by more?"

"Well, we think what you're doing is really brave and wicked cool," Fred said, "But dangerous. Naturally, we'd never talk you out of it, but we reckon you might want some help in your back pocket."

"...Like?"

"These pastiles are a full meal," George held up a tin, shaking it, "Do they taste good? No; that's a kink we need to work out. But they'll keep your stomach full in case you run out of food."

"Oh…" Hermione stared down into the tin, "That's actually a good idea."

" Actually ?" Fred scoffed, "She must think we're right dumb, Forge."

"Well, we never graduated, Gred," George pointed out with an unbothered shrug, "Who knows what last month of information we'll never recover!"

"Okay, okay, is that it?"

"Ah, now you're greedy," Fred teased, "But no, that's just the beginning."

The twins laid a veritable treasure-trove at her feet; Peruvian Darkness Powder pods, bruise salve (a smidge more powerful than their bruise removal paste), small-injury salve, extendable ears, a Portable Swamp (they insisted it may save her life), Weasley's Wet Weather to make it rain, a whole cache of explosions and defensive trinkets, and a few other odds and ends.

"And I don't know if we can follow where you're going…but if you're ever in over your heads…" He handed her a little muggle monkey-in-a-barrel toy, "Just squeeze this in your hands and it'll apparate us to you if it can."

"This is really…" Hermione's voice warbled, "This is incredible. I can't thank you enough," She said, trying to keep her emotions in check. She rubbed under her eyes, wiping away her misty eyes, "You didn't have to."

"Course we did!" George said empathetically, "You're as good as family, and we'd help any of our siblings no questions asked."

"Just imagine if you put your minds to good all you could do," Hermione said, watching as Fred swept her goodies into a bag.

"We are using it for good," Fred said, "What could be better than whimsical fun?"

She did have a few last requests for the pair.

"I need to get out of the castle. Security is really intense this year due to…well, you know why. And I need you to help get Seamus out too…a portkey, perhaps? And maybe do some damage control so that no one raises the alarms that he's gone for two weeks?"

"Say no more!" George said, grinning widely, "You can count on us!"

"I know that's true," Hermione agreed, and she meant every word.

XXX

On the day of her departure, Hermione was a bundle of nerves. She'd repacked her suitcase with Lavender, Ginny, and Parvati eight times, all the girls watching to make sure she wasn't forgetting anything. It was as light as a feather, despite being filled to the brim with tents and food, and other random things. The Umbridge Mutiniy Club really came out of the woodwork with little charms and magical items they thought may help her on her way.

The plan was set; she'd been dramatically sniffling for the last two days and had even taken a Wealsy Product to send herself to the infirmary. Pomfrey was terrified The Goo was back and had insisted if she were to show any signs of it to quarantine herself immediately. On Monday, Lavender would report her sick, and buy a few days. They may spread The Goo (a mild form) to a few others, nothing damaging, just to make sure it was believable. From there, there was a schedule made of who would be Hermione, at least in the view of one or two teachers, here and there for the next week and a half, which was just enough Polyjuice in the vial to pull it off.

Ginny had been elected to go as a Polyjuiced Hermione to meet Mrs. Finnegan on the 20th of September. She knew Hermione best and was absolutely sure she could pull the wool for one quick meeting. By the time the next check-in came by, they'd either be successfully on their way or dejectedly back at Hogwarts.

Hermione had also been shown a very secret passageway that Fred and George were sure no one knew about.

"We've kept this close to our chests," Fred said, "So it means a lot we're showing you. No one else knows about it, but it will get you past Hogsmeade. There will be a portkey for you there to send you to Ireland."

And so, it was all set.

Her and Seamus' letters had been surface-level. They didn't want to talk about their plans in case her parents or his parents or the Headmaster was reading mail, nor did she want to talk about Hogwarts magic in case someone oversaw the letter and thought he was insane. So they'd talked about what they could, but it wasn't much.

She was dying to see him again.

On the night of Friday the 12th, after she'd met up with Mrs. Finnegan as herself for the last time - a special allowance that had been approved by Dumbledore to allow her to return - she sat in the common room, reading spells under her breath. Her leg bounced wildly; she was a bundle of nerves.

Harry sat next to her, looking concerned.

"I've decided that you should have some items," He said abruptly. The area was mostly deserted at this hour.

"Oh?" Hermione asked, raising an eyebrow.

Harry thrust a box towards her. She opened it and immediately tried to give it back.

"Harry, I couldn't!"

"You need both more than I do," He said with a shrug.

"That's not true. You're hiding from Voldemort."

"I'm safe here," Harry said, absolutely certain, "You're going out to unknown lands. Please, Hermione, it would make me feel loads better if you had these."

Hermione's fingers opened the box again and traced over the vial of Liquid Luck and his Invisibilty Cloak.

"I-,"

"I won't take no for an answer," Harry said with his cheeky smile, "I'll magically attach it to you so it always reappears with you."

"Harry…" Hermione gave a hard sigh, but inwardly, she felt so loved by all her friends, willing to give up important items or stick their necks out for her.

"Let's skip the argument and just take it," Harry whispered, pulling her into a hug, "I'll be at tryouts tomorrow, so I won't see you. But I know if anyone can do this, it's surely you."

Hermione sniffled, holding back tears.

"You'll be alright here without me?"

"Yeah. It's about time I figure out how to manage my own study schedules," He said teasingly, "I'm almost an adult."

Hermione held the embrace as long as she could. Ron was lingering too, and she pulled him towards her, wishing that she was going with either of them as well. They'd always done all of this together…it was strange to be going through this without them.

"You'll make history," Ron said.

"And you'll make the team," Hermione said.

"Maybe," Ron didn't seem sure, "But I'll write to you. And I won't send it, so no one can find you, but you can read through all our letters when you return."

"I'd really love that."

Soon enough, they were being shooed back up to their dorms.

Lavender hugged her before she went to bed, citing that she'd be up early to go watch the Gryffindor Quidditch tryouts, and it was true. When Hermione woke, despite believing she'd never fall asleep, Lavender was gone.

Parvati was waiting with some breakfast from the Great Hall for her, though.

"I have a question…" Parvati asked nervously, "How'd you convince your parents to let you come back?" It was no secret that the Patil twins were at risk of being pulled, due to the swirling fear of the unknown.

"Well, I pointed out that my parents - as Muggles - couldn't give me what I needed. I know you're a half-blood, so that might not work."

"No, my Dad already has a tutor lined up for us," Parvati frowned.

"I also pointed out that I was nearly a wizarding adult and could make my own education decisions. If I had to, I'd just wait until I turned 17 and then return."

"Bollocks," Parvati sighed, "We don't turn until late December."

Just as Parvati was about to leave, Hermione stopped her.

"Erm, can you…do something for me?" She asked.

"Me?" Parvati frowned, "Sure."

"Do you swear to keep it a secret?" Hermione asked, grasping her hands, "Promise?"

"'Course!"

Hermione thought of Lavender at the pitch and no doubt that Ron was probably painfully aware of her there and winced.

"Ron has a crush on Lavender," She said all at once, watching as Parvati's eyes widened, "And he's too scared to say anything. I'd love to play matchmaker but…"

"Oh, say no more!" Parvati jumped up and down, "You know, Ron's really matured…I don't think Lavender has ever looked at him like that, but I know exactly how to sow the seeds in her mind, make her think it's her idea," She added with a conspiratorial grin.

"Perfect," She let her shoulders drop, "I just want the best for both of them."

"I could see it," Parvati said after a moment, "And I'm not just saying that. No wonder Ron didn't want her at the try-outs! Ooh, I'll try to find a reason to pull her away today. Lavender loves athletes so if he made the team, half my work would be done."

"It would make me feel better, knowing that he's looked after," Hermione said.

"You don't have to mother-hen him, you know?" Parvati said.

She shrugged, "Call it a habit. Keep an eye on Harry too, eh?"

"I can't promise I'll be able to keep him from doing something stupid-,"

"No one can," Hermione sniggered.

"-But I'll do what's in my power." Parvati hugged her too, "Good look and godspeed."

Then, she exited to find a way to make a distraction for Lavender.

For a second, Hermione paused. Not considering calling it off, but just…existing. Trying to soak it in; the smell, the sounds, the feel…she would pull back this memory to ground herself, never happier than when she was at Hogwarts.

Then, she pulled all her Gryffindor bravery together and slid out of the castle, unseen and undisturbed.

When her fingers closed around the portkey, all she saw was the world spinning in front of her eyes, and then green as far as the eye could see.

And one lone figure. Seamus; waiting for her.

"Took you long enough, Luv."

XXX

Seamus, in the time between starting and leaving, felt like he was becoming more and more like Hermione Granger.

Not that he was acing his classes and being noticed for being such a know-it-all (he was dating her; he could call her that, legally). In fact, he was just barely skating by, giving the exact amount of effort to eke out 'C's, just the right grades so that he wouldn't be singled out and tattled on to the Grangers. And, he had his canned answer at the ready, in case someone questioned it. Well, he had never taken Calculus in his entire life; they couldn't think he'd be good at it right away, eh?

No, Seamus felt like Hermione because he spent 90% of his time with his nose buried in a book.

He knew he brought nothing to the table in terms of this adventure. He had no magic. He couldn't get food or supplies because he'd be unable to shrink and lighten it down anyway. He didn't even bring Nathair's journal; Hermione was far better at deciphering it than he ever would be.

If not for the faint hope he could get his magic back, there was no reason for Seamus to be going with her! There were plenty of his classmates that would be better-traveling companions.

So he did what he could…he tried to soak up as much information as he could. About edible plants, about the animals that frequented Ireland (tracking their prints), learning how to make snares and traps, learning survival techniques…he doubted any of it would come in handy, but on the off-chance it did, he would hate to feel like that was just another thing he couldn't provide.

If his classmates found him odd, no one said much. As a sixteen-year-old transfer, he was blissfully ignored. He thought most of them were fine folk, but he wasn't putting any effort into charm.

He had enough friends.

Plus, it would just complicate his departure.

By the time the school reckoned they'd been giving him the cold shoulder long enough, Merlin willing, Seamus would be long gone.

That was the tricky part of it…he wished he could have a few good memory charms at the ready, but alas, there would be entirely too many people to confound even if he could.

He just hoped that he had made himself such a wallflower that by the time someone went, 'Eh, isn't that Irish fellow meant to be in this class?' it would be too late.

Hermione hadn't been able to write much about their planned escape, other than it was going as planned and she had a plan.

Stay put, and wait. Someone is coming.

That had been as much information as she'd given him.

He had the utmost faith in her, but as the hours grew closer to 'go-time', Seamus was starting to worry that something had gone wrong.

Until, as he sat in the back of civics with his nose buried in a bird-identifying book, he heard a loud explosion crash through the silence.

He knew right away; his type of chaos recognized others with little effort.

As his teacher was shooing everyone out of the room back toward the main building, Seamus caught a glimpse of bright red hair across the way. As he craned his neck, searching for its pair, someone grasped him from behind a pillar.

"At your service, Finnegan," George said, saluting him.

"I take it Hermione talked to you?" Seamus asked with a wide, relieved grin.

"You bet she did! Now, quickly, strip-,"

"What?" Seamus choked, taking a step back as George reached for his school tie.

"Well, Freddie and I are going to take turns being a muggle chap for a bit," George said, holding up a potion bottle and swigging it around, "And we require his clothes to do so. And a bit of yer hair. Or blood; both are fine."

Seamus peered around to where everyone was still being evacuated, "I don't know how I feel about dropping my trousers in public…"

"Well, it was either this or run you over with a car and drag you away, so we can always go with plan B," George replied with a grin, "And there's a notice-me-not charm."

Seamus began to disrobe, "Could have started with that, mate. So you're both just going to tag-team being… me? For how long?" He asked as George threw a set of his clothes at him (and he didn't even want to ask how he'd gotten that), "Don't you two have a business to run?"

"Yes, and no. That's the benefit of being in two places at once," George tapped the side of his nose, "Sides…I've always wanted to know what life is like on the other side. Who knows, maybe we'll expand our line. These poor bastards could do with some 'magic' in their lives, don'tcha think?"

Seamus blinked, "How's your accent?"

"I think it's right cracker, don't you?" George replied in not-the-worst Irish that Seamus had ever heard, but not the best. He hoped that his classmates wouldn't question him. It was…passable.

"It'll do," He whispered, "Before I go I just need my-"

"Go bag?" George guessed, kicking a knapsack near his feet, "We took the liberty of filching it for you. Visited the Grangers; Fred pretended to be horribly lost on the confusing streets of Hampstead Garden Suburbs while I slipped to grab it. No time to waste."

Ah, that explained his jeans and sweater.

Clad in his casual clothes, Seamus watched George uncork the bottle and take a pair of scissors. He didn't even have time to duck before the Weasley was snipping off a lock of his hair.

"Ought to last a week or two, and by that time…well…you'll be famous mate! The kid who appeared out of nowhere for two weeks and then bloody vanished! They'll write books about you, I reckon."

"Or I'll come back, utterly defeated," Seamus mumbled glumly.

"Or that," George agreed, which was not the sense of support Seamus was looking for.

He sprinkled a few strands of hair into the potion and took a swig.

"What do I taste like?" Seamus asked sarcastically.

"Gasoline," George shuddered, his features bubbling and melting away in front of Seamus' eyes. In no time at all…he was staring right back at himself. Fuck; had his nose always been sort of crooked like that?

A particularly loud explosion shook the ground, "Ah, that's your cue. The show's nearly up. I'll slip back like you never left, you go."

"Right," Seamus swallowed, "You want to find Professor Mirren. He's a-,"

"Bloke who looks a bit like Binns. We've been studying you," George puffed out his chest proudly, "We will be the best Seamus there ever was. Possibly better than you yourself. Now, wait until it's clear and run to the north side of the campus lawn. Near the hole in the stone wall, there's your port key. It's an empty bottle of Guinness-,"

"Har-har."

"-And bloody good luck, mate," George held both of his shoulders, "Bring your bastard of a brother back, eh?"

"And my magic."

He wasn't sure which one George was more sure of was feasible, but he just grinned, "That too."

Then, George winked and slipped out into the still-frenzied commotion. Seamus watched Fred lunge over the fence, running down the road, security guards chasing after him. Their campus was now blasted to hell, the grass singed and battle-marked.

Once there was a general quietness, Seamus darted out. He didn't care if someone saw; he just had to be faster.

"Oi! All students in the auditorium-," A teacher yelled, taking off after Seamus, but he pushed on.

He could see it; the break in the wall. And, laid innocently at its edge, a beer bottle turned on its side.

The teacher was fast, though. Seamus could hear the footsteps gaining, but he had drive and desire and fire burning through him.

He skidded, leaping for it, and his fingers closed around the handle just as he saw the teacher reach out to grab the hem of his sweatshirt.

Seamus was deposited on the green, soft grass. Waves broke off a cliffside shoreline; it rang in the back of his head as he sat up, dizzy.

"Hermione?"

She wasn't here yet.

Of course she will, you ninny, he scolded himself for even thinking for a second she may not be. Hermione Granger was one thing if not punctual.

He sat and waited, having not much better to do. He wondered how George was fairing as him at school. He screwed up his nose, imagining the twins with Hermion's mum and dad. He hadn't considered that part of the plan.

He tried not to focus on his worries, the ones that curled inside of him like a tiger and prowled around his heart. It was a tad chilly up here, but not overwhelming so, and it was nice to just…sit.

Sit and wait.

He felt the magic on his skin before he heard it, like electricity buzzing across his arms. He stood just as there was a great crack and Hermione appeared before him, landing unsteadily on her toes.

She spun around, searching.

Seamus let out a fully unbridled laugh. She was here; they'd done it.

"Took you long enough, Luv!"

Hermione had bags slung over each shoulder but she dropped it where she stood, running across the field and throwing herself around Seamus, impossibly tangling her arms around his shoulders.

Seamus felt such joy, such unstoppable happiness. He couldn't remember a time when he felt so giddy on sheer possibility. Anything could happen from here, equally bad as good, but fuck it- they had a chance.