Hermione Granger and the Deathly Hallows

Ann Margaret

Story Summary:
The end of the series from our favorite herione's point of view--discover the millions of things that happened that not even the Boy Who Lived knew about! Follows Hermione Granger and the Order of the Phoenix and Half-Blood Prince.

Chapter 02 - Chapter Two

Chapter Summary:
Hermione heads off for the Burrow to plan for their great Horcrux adventure...
Posted:
09/12/2007
Hits:
5,274


Minerva McGonagall looked as formidable as she had Hermione's first day of school as she stood on Hermione's front porch, her wand pointed at the surprised girl who had opened the door. "What were you able to do the first day of class your first year?"

"I Transfigured a match into a needle," Hermione answered. She kept her wand behind her back, tense and ready to slam the door or fire a spell if necessary. "Why was I called into your office last term?"

"You were illegally patrolling on your own so I informed you that Mr. Weasley had to join you or you would face detention," McGonagall answered promptly. She lowered her wand and gave Hermione one of her rare smiles. "And if I did not tell you then, no student of mine was ever able to accomplish that feat on the first day of class."

"Thank you--is everything all right?" Hermione demanded, stepping out onto the porch so she could take a closer look at the dark, tinted windows of the Ministry car. It really bothered her that she couldn't see the driver.

"Everything's going to plan," McGonagall promised. "Are your parents ready?"

Soberly, Hermione indicated the living room. "In there."

"Did you--?"

Hermione nodded. She didn't want to hear the rest of that question.

"All right," McGonagall said kindly, laying a strong hand on Hermione's shoulder. "I can give you five minutes." Hermione nodded and Professor McGonagall entered the living room. Hermione could hear her mother brightly introduce herself to McGonagall, confirming yet again that Hermione's spell had worked; they had met McGonagall once before, when they had been allowed to briefly come to the castle to see Hermione after she had been Petrified. Her parents had always liked the efficient, extremely capable teacher who seemed to be very fond of their daughter; they would have recognized her in a heartbeat. That was probably why the Order had opted to have McGonagall be the chosen Order guard.

But for once, the idea of performing yet another perfect spell made her anything but happy. With a hard sniff, Hermione slung her rucksack over her shoulders, grabbed the suitcases, and started carrying them out to the car. She just wanted to get this awful day over with. The driver's side door opened so the Ministry driver could help her stow the luggage in the boot of the vehicle. Hermione set down the bag so she could easily grab her wand just in case, but it was the person who emerged from the passenger side that really caught her attention. He was wearing a Quidditch cap with the bill pulled down low and his ginger hair was trimmed much shorter than usual, but Hermione recognized him all the same.

"B--!"

"Let me help you with that," an earring-less Bill Weasley interrupted loudly as he hurried forward. Hermione took a cautious step back with her wand in the air. Bill immediately held up his hands to shoulder-height with a begrudging smile. "The first time I met you, I was playing Quidditch with Charlie, Fred, and George, right before you went to the World Cup. Ron brought you out to meet us." He grinned fondly. "He used the word 'atrocious' correctly."

Hermione lowered her wand. "Why are you--?"

"Thanks, Benton," Bill interrupted smoothly once again. The glassy-eyed driver nodded robotically as he loaded the suitcases into the car. Bill grabbed a hold of her hand so they could step off to the side, muttering a quick Mufflito charm to ensure complete privacy. Hermione frowned a bit uncomfortably when he didn't release his grip on her fingers; Bill had never been physically affectionate towards her and she couldn't understand why he was starting now. "We've charmed him, of course," Bill explained in a low voice. "But just to be sure."

"Won't they're still be a record of your dad requesting the car?" Hermione asked anxiously, watching the driver suspiciously. Clearly, he had been Confounded, but she wasn't about to take any chances today.

"Yeah," Bill confirmed. He flicked some curls out of her eyes to bring his attention back to her. "But Dad says that'll actually be good for us. We know You-Know-Who's got spies in the Ministry, so if they see that Minerva took the Granger family and Ron Weasley to Heathrow airport--"

"--they'll have written documentation I've left the country," Hermione finished. "Good." She blinked abruptly as she realized what Bill had just said. "Wait. R--?"

"That's why I'm here," Bill reassured. He actually looked oddly amused as he shot his eyes down to their intertwined hands. "Ron pointed out that if you were about to leave the country--"

"--he'd insist on seeing me off," Hermione finished with sudden understanding. Of course Ron would have demanded to come with her to the airport to say good-bye. She couldn't believe she hadn't thought of that herself. She nodded to Bill's new hairstyle. "Thus the hair."

Bill's face pinched with disgust. "Yeah. Mum was thrilled." He repositioned his maroon jumper, which Hermione recognized as one of Ron's. "But let me tell you, I'm growing it back to normal as soon as I get home. I think Fleur would give back the ring if I didn't."

Hermione smiled, but pressed on without comment. There was no time for jokes. "Why didn't you just use Polyjuice?"

"We're running low on our stores," Bill explained. "The next batch won't be ready until next week and we needed what we have left for--" He broke off and chose to just lift his eyebrows towards the car. Hermione nodded in understanding. "Ron and I are about the same height and the Death Eaters can't really tell us apart anyway. As long as I keep my head down, I should be fine. And speaking of Polyjuice," he glanced at his watch, "we don't have a lot of time."

"Right." Hermione quickly went to retrieve Crookshanks' cage, Bill right behind her with his hand protectively on the small of her back. He looked all around edgily, as Ron would have, while Hermione climbed into the car, set Crookshanks on the floor, and promptly yanked out several strands of her hair. She however held onto them for another few seconds. Her wand came up to point at the lone person waiting in the car. "What's your Patronus?"

"Remus." Nymphadora Tonks answered from the comfort of the plush backseat. To confirm her point, she held up her hand so Hermione could see that her left ring finger was sparkling with new light.

Hermione gasped. "You got married!"

"I know!" Tonks squealed excitedly, bouncing up and down as though she was still a schoolgirl at Hogwarts. She promptly bounced a bit too excitedly and fell off the seat, nearly landing on Crookshanks' cage and almost spilling the large flask she held in her hand.

"Hey!" Bill hissed from his position directly outside the open car door, unable to chide the woman by her name as she wasn't supposed to be there.

"Sorry," Tonks returned embarrassedly. She extended the flask to Hermione who quickly dropped her hair into the thick glutinous mixture. The Polyjuice Potion hissed and sizzled as it turned into a cool periwinkle blue while Tonks set it aside for the time being.

"Are you sure you have enough?" Hermione asked as she tried to visually ascertain how much potion Tonks had. "It's a really long flight--"

"Yeah, yeah. I should be fine and if it comes to it, I'll just go back to normal in the bathroom and change my hair and face in there." Tonks began to tug off her T-shirt. "Quick, give me your shirt," she ordered.

Hermione obediently stripped off her jumper, putting aside modesty for the need of speed, and handed it off to Tonks. Luckily, they had both agreed to wear jeans so they only needed to exchange shirts. Tonks tossed her hers and slipped on Hermione's. It was a bit snug, but it would do the trick.

"Good. Take that," Tonks requested, nodding to the Invisibility Cloak she had huddled under for the entire car ride over. She wrinkled her nose at it as Hermione set the cloak on her lap so it was ready to swing over her at a moment's notice. "It's not very good," she apologized. "It's Moody's and it's ages old--you can see through it in certain light--normally, we wouldn't have you Apparate alone, but you know how short-staffed we are at the moment--we're running two other operations today--"

"It'll be fine," Hermione said briskly. She didn't mind walking the five blocks alone to the place that Mr. Weasley deemed safe to Apparate at; it would give her a chance to finish crying before arriving at the designated Apparition point near the Burrow, where Mrs. Weasley would meet her to walk her to the house. She indicated her cat. "Should I take everything with me?"

"Just take your backpack," Tonks answered. "Bill will bring the rest when he leaves the airport--I need to use your luggage to make this look convincing." She started to gulp down the potion, but paused as she realized another question she needed to ask. "Now what did you tell them after you wiped their memories?"

"That I was their next-door neighbor," Hermione reported. "And I was on the same flight to Australia too so we're sharing a ride to the airport."

"Lovely," Tonks said. "Oh!" She rummaged around in her decoy backpack to fish out a vividly orange cap. "Ron wants you to wear this."

Hermione took the proffered cap with two hesitant fingers. "Why?"

"To cover your hair."

"I'll be under the cloak," Hermione reminded her warily.

Tonks was doing her best not to laugh. "Yes. Well. Just in case."

Bill's snicker from outside the car only confirmed Hermione's suspicions. With a groan, she dropped the cap to her lap so she could remove the hair-band she always kept on her wrist and impatiently tie her hair up. "He just wants me to wear Chudley Cannons gear again, doesn't he?"

"Yes, well, Moody agreed it was a good idea, to keep constant vigilance and all," Tonks explained wryly. She mashed her lips together to keep in another gale of laughter when Hermione rammed the hat on her head. It barely covered her voluminous head of hair and clashed horribly with Tonks' purple T-shirt. "Wow. You look gorgeous," Tonks said with the utmost seriousness.

Hermione made a sour face at her. "At least I'll be invisible," she grumbled. Ron really had the oddest sense of humor sometimes. She peeked out the window to see with a jolt that McGonagall was leaving the house with her parents who were chatting blithely away about how wonderful Australia would be. All other thoughts flew from her head; she hadn't seen them that happy in ages.

"It's time," Bill warned them swiftly before coming forward to introduce himself as Hermione's boyfriend who was coming to see her off. McGonagall had informed them that she was Hermione's grandmother who was accompanying them for the same reason.

Tonks started to gulp down the potion, but stopped when she saw that Hermione was still hesitating. "We won't let anything happen to them, Hermione. I'll stay with them until they get settled, I swear. They'll be fine."

"Good," Hermione said distractedly, biting her lip as she continued to watch her parents come down the walk with the rest of their luggage. She suddenly wasn't sure if she could bear to leave them.

"Hermione," Tonks said, her voice suddenly as sharp as Moody's. There was no more time. "Go."

She guzzled down the Polyjuice while Hermione threw the cloak over her head and slipped out of the open car door. Her parents' excited voices bubbled in her ear, but Hermione wouldn't allow herself to listen. She ducked low and raced around to her backyard, chest bursting. Once she was safely there, she fell to her knees so she could gasp for air and choke back those dreaded tears. Hermione knew that they were heading off to a much better place, where they could open a brand-new practice and live the sort of life that they couldn't have here, but it still felt as though she had just been orphaned. Parents always knew that one day they would have to let their children go, but children never expected to lose their parents. Your parents were always supposed to be there, no matter what, through thick and thin, forever and ever. They were your family. What on earth did you do when your own family left you?

"Hey."

She really shouldn't have been surprised to find him standing there, eyes roving the grass to find her exact location. She should have known he'd come. He always came. She sat back on her heels, stunned beyond belief. "Hi," she got out rather dumbly, idiotically wishing she had a mirror. She had always wanted him to see her home, but she really didn't want him to see her blotchy face and red-rimmed eyes. Even though he had seen her in every possible state, she had rather hoped that when he first saw her after their brief separation, she could be smiling and gorgeous so he would once again wonder why he hadn't given in and taken her in his arms and kept her there forever and ever--but of course that hardly mattered because she was under an invisibility cloak. Hermione shook her head. How could he always manage to shake all of her wits out of her? "What--?"

"Hang on," Ron Weasley, as tall, ginger-haired, freckled, and utterly wonderful as ever, said very quietly. He nodded to the back door. "Inside."

Hermione followed in a daze as he unlocked the back door and slipped inside. Only then did Hermione pull off the cloak so she could stare wide-eyed at him. There was no need to ask him a Ministry-approved security question. No one but Ron would look at her like that. "What are you doing here?"

Ron however only snickered. "Nice hat."

Hermione ripped off the cap in exasperation and wiped her face of the last of her tears. "What are you doing?" she repeated as the gravity of the situation started to hit her. "You can't be seen here--you're supposed to be in a Ministry car with me--if anyone sees you, this whole operation will be blown wide open--!"

Ron snorted. "Please. Death Eaters can't tell any of us apart. If I get caught, I'm just going to say I'm Charlie."

"And why would Charlie be at my house?" Hermione demanded with her hands on her hips.

"To put some last minute charms on the property," Ron answered promptly, looking smug. "Order members are doing it for all Muggle-born families they've helped leave the country. They're worried that Death Eaters will come torch their places or look for clues or something so they're setting up charms that'll alert them if anyone comes here, like the ones Umbridge used to catch you and Harry."

"And your mum let you be the one to do it?" Hermione asked skeptically. "Instead of an Order member?"

Ron's gaze faltered. "Well, no, they don't know I'm here. That's just what I'm going to say if I get caught."

Hermione's hands dropped back to her side. "Then why are you here?" she asked once again, this time her voice soft and sincere. The pixies were bounding away again in her stomach, making her suspect that Ron was doing something wonderful for her yet again.

"Dad said you were going to Apparate by yourself," Ron explained a bit uncomfortably. His ears were faintly pink. "And I knew that Invisibility Cloak was no good so I thought I'd make sure you got off all right."

"I only have to walk five blocks," Hermione said quietly. She was more than capable of handling five little blocks on her own, but that suddenly wasn't the point.

"That's enough," Ron said harshly. "Anything could happen in five blocks. I reckoned you could be under the cloak while I--" He swiped the Cannons hat from her hand and jammed it down on his head to hide his very distinctive hair. "--followed you. We'll Apparate at the same time; you'll meet Mum while I'll Apparate a bit further from that," Ron explained. "In that forest behind our lake? The trees should hide me. If I run, I should be able to make it back before you. They'll never know I left--I got them to think I was sick this morning so Mum wouldn't bother me--that's how I got here in time. I knew the car was coming at 5:00 so I Apparated here and got to the back yard before anyone got here and saw me." He looked apprehensively at her slack jaw and wide eyes. "Is that all right? I mean, hell, I know I just made things loads more complicated, and yeah, it's bloody dangerous, I know, but, Hermione, I couldn't just sit at home and let you do this by yourself--"

Hermione was already throwing her arms around him as she had a thousand times before and would probably do a thousand more times over this upcoming year. She couldn't believe he had done all of this just for her, just so he could feel better about her walking a paltry five blocks. He never ceased to amaze her. "I'll walk really slowly," was all Hermione could think to say. That way Ron would have more time to sneak back into the Burrow.

Ron's laughter vibrated straight down to her very core. "Thanks." They stayed like this for several moments longer than necessary. Hermione finally broke away and wiped her face again. She really wished she had a handkerchief. Ron awkwardly looked around the painfully empty house. "So they get off okay?"

"Yes. They did," Hermione confirmed, pretending to clean a spot on the floor with her shoe. She really didn't want to talk about her parents just now.

Ron sensed that and walked farther into the kitchen, inspecting the marbled countertops. "So this is your house."

As he had hoped, Hermione managed a watery smile. "It is."

"Nice," Ron commented. "Big."

"I suppose," Hermione said. She hadn't really thought about her house being so large, but now that she thought about it, her house had to seem huge to Ron. The Burrow barely managed to hold the nine members of the Weasley family while she and her parents had much more space than they could possibly use. Her parents had actually talked about opening their own practice in the basement since they had so much extra space, but decided against it, wanting to keep their jobs separate from their family life. For a second, Hermione felt a bit uncomfortable, hoping Ron wasn't once again feeling inferior due to their different financial statuses.

But if Ron did, he didn't show it. "Empty too," he added, attempting to make a joke. "You Muggles really like the simple life, don't you?"

"I suppose we do," Hermione returned.

Ron glanced at the watch he had received for his seventeenth birthday. "We've still got ten minutes before you have to meet Mum." He stuck his hands in his pockets hopefully. "Mind showing me around?"

Even in this dire situation, Hermione felt a pang of lightning strike her stomach. He wanted to see her home just as much as she had always wanted him to visit. "Sure." There wasn't much to show since the house was crammed with boxes and covered furniture, but it was enough to give Ron an idea what life would have been like in this warm house. He especially laughed when he found that the Grangers actually had their own library, full of the books that they couldn't fit in their respective bedrooms or studies. Hermione sheepishly led him around, leaving her bedroom for last.

Ron stepped inside, eager to explore but treating the space with respect. She remained at the doorway, still a bit too sad to reenter it. Hermione's room was normally immaculate, but now it was a storage space for all of the things that her parents couldn't take as they revealed that they had once had a daughter. Ron paused by some photo albums and flicked them open so he could see a five year old Hermione with her arms full of books, grinning madly at the prospect of going to school for the very first time. He poked at the photo to make the images active again before remembering that they were a Muggle photograph and moving on to examine the neat desk, the nicely made bed, the worn bookshelves sagging under the weight of extensive library. Hermione watched him intently, inexplicably nervous. For some reason, his opinion on her room was very important to her. "It looks like you," he finally commented.

Hermione smiled. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. Definitely." He turned another page of the photo album and examined the one of a ten year old Hermione proudly pitching a tent in the Forest of Dean while her mum and dad stood off to the side, feigning ignorance and disbelief that their daughter could accomplish such a feat. The next photograph displayed all three of them around the campfire, toasting marshmallows and grinning, without a care in the world. He stared at that picture the longest as it reminded him of happier days with his own family.

"I wish I could have known them," he admitted. His ears colored as he realized his mistake. "I mean, yeah, I know, I've met them loads of times, but all we ever say is hi- how-are-you and then your dad gives me a dirty look and that's it. I meant actually talk to them, you know." He gave her a furtive glance. "Know them like you know Mum and Dad."

"Yes, I know."

He glanced over at her; Hermione for the millionth time marveled at how blue his eyes really were. "Reckon I'll just have to wait until they come back."

The mental image of her father trying to awkwardly talk to Ron about Quidditch while she helped her mum set out the tea and scones made Hermione laugh under her breath. The idea of having that undeniably normal experience seemed so foreign to her, but it was maybe crazy enough to somehow come true. "They'd like that," Hermione answered. "They like you," she added.

"They don't know me," Ron said with surprise.

Hermione shrugged one shoulder. "I know. But I like you. And that's all that matters to them."

The tips of his ears were starting to burn pink. "Oh." He closed the photo album and spotted the framed picture Hermione had on her nightstand: she, Harry, and he were sitting by the Hogwarts lake in fifth-year. From the way it was positioned, he could tell that it was the last thing she would see before falling asleep and the first thing she would see when waking up. That thought seemed to bolster his courage and he went on. "Still, I should talk to them. Get to know them. I reckon I'll have to go to Australia with you when you bring them back." He glanced at her edgily again. "All right?"

For the first time in what seemed like ages, Hermione felt something amazingly like hope begin to burn in her belly. She finally had something to look forward to. "All right," she agreed.

Ron smiled the magic lopsided grin. "Good." He picked up the photo album and offered it to her. "You sure you don't want to take any of these?"

It was tempting, but Hermione shook her head. "I shouldn't have anything that would tie me to them. Just in case." She turned her back on the room before she could change her mind. "We should go."

"Right." Ron ran down the stairs after her, suddenly nervous. "So you'll be under the cloak. Just go straight there. I'll be behind you. I'm going to try to stay out of sight so no one sees me, but I'm there. I swear. Just keep going. Don't stop. Okay?"

She nodded. Despite his obviously shaky nerves, Hermione couldn't have asked for a better protector. "Okay." She started to the kitchen to retrieve the Invisibility Cloak, but she stopped when she realized something. "Wait. Why didn't you just wear the cap here? Why did you give it to Tonks to give to me?"

Ron snickered.

"Ron! I knew it--you just wanted me to wear that awful thing! That was really dangerous for you to walk here without any sort of disguise!"

"I know." Ron jerked his chin towards the cloak so she'd put it on and get moving. He couldn't help laughing again at the mental image of her wearing his Cannons hat. He really wished he had had a camera. "But it was worth it."

**

"Well, welcome back, Hermione."

"Thank you," Hermione said as she once again basked in the glow of the Burrow. She always thought that houses should reflect the people who lived there and no home adhered to that rule as wonderfully as the Burrow. Every time she looked at the tall, slightly ramshackle house, she was so warmly reminded of the Weasleys that she always wanted to laugh. That was one of the many things she loved about that entire family; they always made her laugh. She clenched the strap of her knapsack a little tighter as she leaned her head back and breathed the air. She loved that she could taste the magic of the family in the air.

Mrs. Weasley was already knocking on the front door and answering the security question. Hermione glanced quickly at her watch. She had been purposely lagging for quite some time; the walk from the Apparition site to the Burrow should have taken five minutes, but Hermione had managed to stretch it out to ten, feigning a sore ankle. She just hoped it was enough time for Ron to return safely.

The door opened and as soon as Hermione was admitted, an excited Weasley was jumping forward to give her a welcoming hug. Mrs. Weasley smiled at the two girls before going to the kitchen to prepare some tea. "Ginny! How are you?"

"Good, good, you?" Ginny asked breathlessly as she tossed her long hair over her shoulder so it would be out of her way. It seemed like her hair was growing as much as Ron did. It now hung several inches past her shoulders and Ginny showed no signs of tiring of its length. If Hermione's hair had been that long it would have resembled an oversized bush, but on Ginny, it looked stunning. It was also evident that Ginny had been spending a great deal of her time in the sun so she had a smattering of new freckles and slighter darker, more summery skin tone. Hermione had a feeling that Harry was going to take one look at Ginny and have a great deal of trouble sticking to the decision he had made to end things with her.

It took a moment for Hermione to remember that Ginny had asked her a question. "Fine," she replied. Remembering she had a masquerade to uphold, Hermione looked around the living room. "Where's Ron?"

"Oh, he wasn't feeling well, dear," Mrs. Weasley called from the kitchen. "He may be having a bit of a lie-in."

"Yeah, you usually don't feel well after having a Puking Pastille," Ginny whispered with a wink. Of course, she had caught on the second she saw Ron vomiting in the bathroom and instantly agreed to help. She raised her voice. "I think he's feeling better though, Mum!"

"Yeah, he's feeling better!" Ron launched himself down the stairs, still red-faced and sweaty from his sprint back to the house, up the stairs, and into bed. He grinned, impressed by his brilliance in creating such a cunning plan that had even managed to outwit Molly Weasley. "Hey. Nice hat."

"Hi," Hermione returned as she pulled off the hat that Ron had once again insisted she wear before Apparating to the Burrow. She didn't have to feign joy as if she had seen him for the first time; she really was overjoyed that he had managed to get home safely. She had been worried sick the entire journey. She started towards Ron, but Mrs. Weasley bustled into the room and let out a warning exclamation.

"Ron might still be contagious," she advised as she set down the tea and handed Hermione a cup. "I wouldn't give him a proper hello just yet."

"I'm fine, Mum," Ron insisted with a well-practiced roll of the eye and just the right amount of pathetic defiance in his voice. Hermione's eyebrows rose slightly. If Ron played this properly, he could get out of chores for the rest of the day.

Sure enough, Mrs. Weasley pressed her hand against Ron's forehead. "You're still boiling hot. And drenched in sweat!" she said sympathetically. Her fists went to her hips. "Did you throw up again, young man?"

"Mum," Ron whined, tilting his head towards Hermione.

"Oh, Hermione doesn't mind, do you, Hermione?" Hermione shook her head, fighting very hard not to giggle, which was especially difficult with Ginny snorting tea out of her nose. She shooed Ron towards the stairs. "You go straight back to bed, young man. I'll bring you up some tea and soup so you feel better. Hermione will be just fine," Mrs. Weasley added as Ron opened his mouth to argue. "Now go."

The second his mother's back was turned, Ron gave Hermione a proud grin and started very slowly up the stairs, waiting for his mother to return to the kitchen before turning around and gesturing for Hermione to follow him. Hermione picked up her tea to indicate that she would join him as soon as she was finished. Before Ron could silently argue, a vision in pale summer robes floated past Ron and down the stairs.

"Ginny! Zere you are!" Fleur Delacour exclaimed. "What do you think of zis one?" She pointed to her hair which was elegantly swept up in an intricate twist.

"It's fine," Ginny said with a shrug. Fleur gave her a withering look and Ginny let out a sigh. "I guess I liked the other one better."

"They all look fantastic," Ron said in a strangled voice. He had been fairly successful in repelling the part-veela's charms, but she looked so lovely with her hair piled up like that that he couldn't help himself. Hermione rolled her eyes and repressed the urge to whack him hard on the side of the head. It seemed that Ron would never grow up.

Fleur managed a kind smile in Ron's direction. "Thank you, Ronald. And please do not stand so close to me--I can still smell the vomit on you." Hermione clapped her hand over her mouth to contain her laughter while Ron scowled and slunk back up the stairs. Fleur turned back to Ginny. "Which one did you prefer? Ze first one, ze second one, or ze third one?"

Ginny thought back with a furrowed brow, trying to remember. "The second one."

"Zat iz what I think too." Fleur gave Hermione an obligatory nod. "'ello."

"Hello," Hermione returned. She had a feeling Fleur didn't mention her name because she didn't remember it.

Fleur returned her attention to Ginny and pinched Ginny's cheek in a fond manner. "I am so glad you came 'ome in time to get some color in your cheeks. If I 'ad known you tan so well I would 'ave 'ad ze pink dresses like I wanted. Ze coloring actually might 'ave worked."

Ginny swatted Fleur's hand away with a grimace. "Yes, I'm so glad I came home from school early," she said coldly. "Dumbledore dying really worked out well for you."

"Zat iz not what I mean, Ginny," Fleur chided sternly. "You know I am just as saddened by 'is death as you 'ere." Ginny sulkily folded her arms over her chest and didn't say another word. She did know that. "Now if 'ou do not mind, you need to 'elp your brothers--"

"Uh, do I have to?" Ginny interrupted. She indicated Hermione. "Hermione just got here. I should help get her settled."

Fleur gave a little gasp as if Ginny was asking if she could use Fleur's wedding dress to wipe up some spilled potion. "Mais non! Zere iz entirely too much 'ork to do--especially since Ronald iz ill! 'Ermione here can get settled on her own--she 'as been 'ere before. She 'ill be fine and perhaps she would care to give us a 'and a bit later?"

Hermione nodded politely, but Ginny grimaced and shook her head. "What could we possibly have to do that is so important?"

"'ell, you may not think there iz much 'ork to do, but let me tell you, Ginerva, there iz so much 'ork to do! Ze wedding iz less than two weeks away!" Fleur scolded Ginny indignantly. "We still 'ave a lot of work to do! Your dress iz still not ready, we 'ave still not decided about ze seating arrangements--"

Ginny interrupted her sister-in-law with just an arch of eyebrows. "And what am I supposed to do about it? I'm not a seamstress or a wedding planner and I'm definitely not your slave. I'm just a bridesmaid."

Fleur's chest swelled with rage. "You are supposed to do whatever you can in order to make zis ze best day of my life!" Fleur reminded her. "You are supposed to be a good sister and 'elp me! Do you not want me to 'ave a good wedding?! I am supposed to be 'appy!"

Her voice reached a high-pitched squeak that reminded Hermione of the merpeople's almost intelligible language that resembled banshee shrieks when heard out of the water. Ginny calmly put one finger in her ear to clear the ringing of her eardrum. "Ow," she commented. She blinked blandly as if she had just noticed Fleur was there. "I'm sorry, what did you just say? You got a bit high-pitched there."

"Oh--you--you-are impossible!" Fleur exploded before melodramatically stomping out of the room and letting out a string of furious French.

Ginny grinned as she took Hermione's trunk for her. "That'll hold her off for a while. Mum, we're going up to my room!" Ginny called as she led the way up the stairs.

"You're really starting to act like sisters now," Hermione commented, still in awe over the sisterly row. Personally, Hermione couldn't imagine anyone getting so worked up about one ceremony, but then again, Ron couldn't understand why she got worked up for one test. To each her own, she supposed.

"I keep trying to tell Mum that--that our rows are good signs, but--" Ginny trailed off with a little sigh. "She just doesn't understand."

"That you're only rowing with her for the sake of your relationship?"

"Of course." Ginny paused on the stair and turned around with one hand over her heart. Her eyes grew wide and mocking. "Would I torment her like that for any other reason?"

Hermione just shook her head with a smile. "I've missed you."

"Me too." Ginny continued up the stairs. "I'm hoping Fleur will calm down soon enough," she added. "Maybe she'll get everything out ages before the wedding so by the time it's actually time for the ceremony, she won't be this frantic." Ginny kicked off her shoes so she could fling herself on her bed while Hermione set down her backpack and took a seat on her cot. "Of course," Ginny said, suddenly serious. "I think she'll calm down after today."

"Why?"

"She was just worried about Bill and took it out on the wedding," Ginny explained. "She wanted to come along, but Moody said no, that she wasn't properly trained." She shook her head. "You should have seen Fleur when Moody said that. I thought the veelas at the World Cup were scary. That's nothing compared to Fleur." She cringed at the memory of it. "I probably should stop jerking her around." Ginny considered it for a moment before shaking her head. "Nah. I'll be fine."

"She was really that worried?" Hermione asked. "Did they really think something would happen?"

"I guess," Ginny said. Hermione bit her lip anxiously; Ginny hurried to placate her. "They're all just paranoid right now, Hermione. They don't really think they'll go after your parents. Things are falling apart all over the place and they're just--" Ginny trailed off and sighed. The wizarding world really wasn't a magical place at the moment. "They're just expecting the worst all of the time."

Hermione could only nod soberly. Ginny abruptly got to her feet and moved to her desk, in dire need for a change in subject. "So. Have you heard from Harry?" Ginny asked much too casually. She wouldn't look at Hermione as she busied herself rearranging the items on her desk.

"No," Hermione reminded her. "Harry is only supposed to use Hedwig if he absolutely had to. You know that."

A single sheet of parchment was knocked to the floor and Ginny hastily picked it up and smoothed it out. "I know," Ginny said in a remarkably even voice. Hermione didn't know how she managed the feat when Hermione could see from here that she was trembling ever so slightly. "I just thought he might've snuck you one before you came here."

"No. He didn't." Hermione sat up a little straighter. "Did he get one to you?"

Ginny could only nod.

Hermione grinned surreptitiously. Good for Harry. "What did he say?"

"Just that he was fine. Wanted me to write back with Hedwig to let him know I was okay." She laughed fondly. "He is bored out of his mind there. Spends all his time holed up in his room. He wishes he can do magic so he can finally curse Dudley once and for all. He couldn't say much else, of course, with everything."

"Right," Hermione confirmed. It was obvious that Ginny had nearly memorized the letter from reading it so many times. Hermione knew that sentiment all too well. She could probably recite almost every letter Ron had ever written her, no matter how trivial its contents were. Ginny's fingers found the before-mentioned letter which was already worn from being folded and unfolded so many times. Ginny had to read it at least five times a day. "You know," Hermione said quietly. "I never had a chance to talk to you after the funeral. About what happened with Harry."

The letter was hastily returned to its proper place on the desk. "I'm fine."

"Ginny--"

"I'm fine," Ginny insisted. She swung her hair off of her face. "I have to be. He can't know what he's doing to me."

"Ginny--"

"He can't," Ginny shook her head vigorously, eyes blazing. "Harry has enough on his mind with this mission thing the three of you are going off on. And it's not that I expect him to sit around thinking about me, but Harry always takes on what everyone's feeling and if he knew that he's ripping me up--" Ginny swallowed the rest of the words. "He'd feel horrible. And I'm not about to do that to him." She swiftly returned to her bed and snatched up a Quidditch magazine that she could pretend to read. "When this is all over, he and I can have a talk about this whole mess, but until then, not a word. Okay?"

"Okay," Hermione agreed.

"And don't let Ron stick his nose in this," Ginny added. "I don't need him to play big brother right now. This is between me and Harry."

"I'll do my best," Hermione promised although that one she wasn't so certain she could keep. She remembered Ron's reaction to Michael Corner all too well.

Ginny nodded gratefully as her eyes traveled to the ceiling, imaging her brother lounging on his bed, avoiding work at all costs. "I can't believe he puked all morning just so he could come see you."

"I can," Hermione answered without thinking.

Ginny smirked but went on. "He hates throwing up, you know."

"Not many people enjoy it," Hermione said wryly.

"Yeah, but he really hates it. Fred cursed him one time so he threw up slugs for three days--" Hermione let out a silent groan of understanding; that was where Ron had learned that curse. "--and ever since, he even can't stand to hear someone else upchuck. Makes him sick too. But that's why he did it--Mum would know he was faking if he used anything besides those pastilles. She never thought he'd take it that far just to go see you." Ginny folded her arms smugly behind her head. "But he did."

"Ginny," Hermione said warningly. She had no idea what was going to happen between her and Ron in the next months. They certainly seemed to be back in that place--close to something wonderful--but this was hardly the time to start a relationship. She couldn't imagine the three of them scouring the country, hunting for Horcrux, while she and Ron snuck off every night for some serious snogging while Harry sat alone, huddling near a fire for warmth. She and Ron had always been more than willing to make sacrifices for Harry and now she had a feeling that both of them would be making another one: they would put their relationship on hold in order to give him their undivided attention.

"Hey, let me live vicariously a little," Ginny joked with a grin. "I'm single now. I need to be reminded that there are some good ones out there."

A knock on the door cut off Hermione's next question. Bill Weasley stuck his head in, his dragon-fang earring back in its proper place. "Hermione, I have your stuff."

"Thank you," Hermione said gratefully as she leapt to her feet to take Crookshanks from his hand. She unlocked the cage and her cat leapt free, yowling in relief, as he streaked out of the room to escape outside and find some gnomes to chase. Bill lugged her trunk inside and dropped it with a gasp, rubbing his sore shoulder. Hermione had way too many books. "How are they?" Hermione asked anxiously.

"They got off just fine," Bill assured. "I don't even think we were followed. Tonks sent us a Patronus after the plane took off. She'll contact us when they land as well."

Hermione sank back to her cot, blood draining out of her limbs in utter relief. "Thank you so much."

"Of course," Bill replied. "We're happy to do it." He puckered his face up in disgust. "Except for one part."

"What?"

His face twitched, as Ron's did whenever he was fighting to contain a rush of laughter. "Well, Tonks and I had to be in character at all times. So when it came time for us to say good-bye, we had to be very convincing and well--" He exchanged a mischievous glance with his sister. "--well, let's just say Fleur and Remus really aren't happy with us right now."

Illogically, Hermione suddenly was as flustered as though she and Ron really were the ones to engage in public snogging. "So you--really?"

Bill roared with laughter. "Come on, Hermione. Ron said to be convincing. That meant sending you off with a proper good-bye."

"Did he say that?" Hermione demanded, wide-eyed.

Bill chose to leave her in suspense. He gestured to his sister who was still snickering into her pillow. "Come on, Ginny. Fleur wants us to give her a hand."

Ginny rolled her eyes, but she pushed herself off of the bed with a groan. "You're so lucky you're the guest," she informed Hermione as she sailed out of the room after her brother and down the stairs. Hermione quietly rose so she could stand in the doorway and watch the two Weasleys descend the staircase. When they were out of sight, Hermione returned to the room only to snatch up her rucksack and stole up the stairs, but not to find Ron. Not just yet. There was one last thing she needed to protect.

Stealthily, she stole up to the attic, where she had hidden whenever she needed some peace and quiet last summer. The Burrow may be one of the most magical places, but it was also a very small and very loud place. The family ghoul perked up with interest when she mounted the ladder, but soon went back to stacking old boxes in a haphazard pile, probably so he could knock them over at an opportune moment and scare the life out of the house's inhabitants. Hermione crossed over to the corner where she would always curl up and read, but she didn't plan on partaking in any summer reading today. Instead, she found the box of old toys that Ron had packed up last summer and opened it.

She then slid her backpack off her shoulders so she could extract a large textbook, bound in faded black leather. Secrets of the Darkest Art was carefully hidden under a mound of stuffed animals and Martin Migg action figures, safe from Ginny's prying eyes. Hermione had learned that sharing a room with a Weasley was always a dangerous thing. So until it was time to pack up their belongings, the vitally important text needed to remain out of sight. Hermione had complied all of the notes she had needed from it, but she could always come up here to reference it if need be.

A soft groan caught her attention. Hermione turned to find that the ghoul had slouched back to find her and was curiously watching her seal up the box. He looked so lonely, like Ron had the first day of school, that Hermione wasn't disturbed in the least at being discovered. "Hello," Hermione greeted kindly. She nodded to the box. "Do you mind if I keep something up here for safe-keeping? Just for a little while?"

The ghoul emitted something that could be a low chuckle or another groan. However, he did give her a definitive nod before returning to his nest near the stairs. Hermione double-checked that the box was securely sealed before returning to the ladder. The ghoul watched her with large, rolling eyes. "Thank you," she said gratefully.

He grunted again and Hermione swung her bag back on her shoulders so she could safely climb down the ladder. She was finally starting to relax; her parents were on their way to safety; Dumbledore's book was stored safely; her surrogate family was alive and well; Harry was fine for the time being. Nothing had fallen apart while she had been away. Phase one of her elaborate plan to survive the Horcrux hunt had passed without a hitch.

Now it was time for phase two.