Hermione Granger and the Time of Troubles

Leaving Hogwarts always instilled a rather melancholic feeling within Hermione. Hogwarts had become a second home to her over these years and leaving it at Christmas time always felt wrong somehow even if she was leaving to spend time at her real home. She always enjoyed Christmas at the Granger house--it was the only chance she got to see her grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins. But Hermione vividly recalled Christmas during her first-year: she had spent the majority of the day seated in an armchair by the fire and wondering what adventures Harry and Ron had gotten themselves mixed up with. Her family had tried to ask her about school, but she hadn't been able to go into very much detail. She was the only witch in the entire family so no one understood how amazing it was for a first-year to master a Levitation charm on the first try. No one in the Granger clan understood her anymore and that fact made the holidays rather lonely for Hermione.

So Hermione had been secretly relieved to find excuses to remain at Hogwarts for the holidays: second-year it had been to tend to the Polyjuice Potion, third-year was to keep a close eye on a depressed Harry, and fourth-year had been the Yule Ball. Fifth-year had been the exception, however; Umbridge had made Hogwarts so unbearably awful that she had been glad to leave the castle for a few weeks. But she had honestly wanted to spend Christmas at the Burrow with Ron and Harry instead of returning home and she had been greatly relieved to be given permission at the last minute to go to Grimmauld Place. Christmas at home just didn't mean what it used to.

But when Ginny had extended the invitation to her and Harry to go back to Grimmauld Place, Hermione had instantly declined. Spending her holiday at the undoubtedly still-grieving Weasley family wasn't going to be very therapeutic for her. She had to get away from the magical world completely so she could return with a clear head and hopefully a fresh perspective on how to rectify all that had gone horribly wrong with her world.

Besides, she had a job to do. Now that she was of age, she was going to follow Ron's advice and tell her parents the truth about what was currently ensuing in the magical world. They would be furious at her, of course, and demand that she withdraw from Hogwarts, but she finally could refuse to obey.

The impending argument that was imminently brewing plagued Hermione's thoughts the entire train ride to London. She managed to secure a compartment to herself so she could be alone with her thoughts. She even went as far to charm the door locked so not even the nice woman with the food trolley would disturb her. Harry and Ginny were leaving by Floo Powder later that evening so they had said their good-byes in the common room last night since the Hogwarts Express left quite early. Hermione didn't know why they had acted as though they weren't going to see each other in ages; she would be joining them at Grimmauld Place in less than a week. She supposed that Ron's disappearance had instilled in all of them the stark reality that it really was possible that anything could happen to anyone at any moment. For all she knew, she could potentially not see Harry or Ginny for a very long time.

They had agreed to send owls everyday, much to Hermione's relief; she was going to feel much better knowing that at least two of her close friends were safe. Well, Harry wouldn't be sending Hedwig to her--Hedwig was off on her rescue mission. They had sent a preliminary letter with Hedwig addressed to Ron and were going to see if Hedwig retuned with news of a successful delivery or even miraculously a reply from Ron himself. If she did, they were going to concoct a plan of action to somehow follow Hedwig to Ron's whereabouts. So Harry was going to send his letters with Ginny's through Errol and Hermione would be using Pig.

Hermione smiled at the thought of the elfish owl and instinctively reached up to try to stroke the owl's feathers. Of course, Pig was too busy fluttering zanily about in his cage to allow her to pet him, but Hermione made the effort all the same. It had somehow become unspoken knowledge that she was going to take care of Pig while Ron was away; even Pig seemed to know his brief change of ownership--he had mournfully shown up in Hermione's dormitory the day after Ron's kidnapping and had remained in her care ever since. Hermione even had trouble convincing him to return to the Owlery at times, much to her roommates' annoyance. Pig knew that his master was gone and as a gesture of grief, clung to the person closest to him. Hermione had to admit that Pig had been a great source of comfort to her; he always behaved quite well and would actually calmly perch on her shoulder while she researched empathic abilities. Of course, Crookshanks didn't fancy the new adopted addition to the Granger pet household, but he hadn't made any attempts to make a snack out of the tiny owl; he would simply give an almost disdainful sniff whenever the bird arrived and retreat to the foot of Hermione's bed. Crookshanks would then glare at the owl until he left.

Right now, Crookshanks' yellow eyes were glowing warily at the sporadic owl from the prison of his cage. Hermione chuckled at the sight of it before returning her attention to the English countryside whipping past her. They were almost at London. Hermione took a deep breath and for the last time, made a vain attempt to seek out Ron. He had been nowhere to be found once again, much to Hermione's consternation. He was being so bloody stubborn about this; she knew this wouldn't help bring him home any quicker, but if they could talk to each other, she couldn't comprehend why he wouldn't want to speak to her. She knew that he thought he was protecting her in some way, but honestly, she could take care of herself. Yes, talking to Ron would make her very happy, but it would undoubtedly upset her at the same time. But she could take care of herself; she could handle it. But the communication required two willing minds and since Ron was such a stubborn prat, there was nothing but silence.

The train was starting to slow to a stop and a magically enhanced voice announced that they would be arriving at King's Cross in five minutes. Hermione bit her lip as she packed up her belongings. This was it.

She somehow managed to juggle her trunk, Crookshanks' cage, and Pig's cage and unload the bulky items off of the train. Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan spotted her plight and assisted her through the barrier. Her parents hadn't arrived yet so after setting down the kennels they were carrying, Seamus and Dean wished her a happy Christmas and headed off with their respective families. She only had to wait a few more minutes before she saw them. Hermione had never been filled with so much excitement and trepidation simultaneously. She managed a weak smile as they approached, and to her surprise, she was immediately scooped up in a tight embrace by her father. Her dad wasn't the most demonstrative of men so the gesture was even more painfully meaningful. She returned the hug just as fiercely but she did have to swallow hard to displace the lump that had jumped into her throat.

"It's good to see you, honey," William Granger whispered before stepping back to allow his wife a clear shot to their daughter.

"Hello, dear," Helen Granger greeted with a smile as she gave Hermione another hug. She released her daughter so she could inspect her. "You're looking..." The traditional compliment was halted as she really looked at Hermione. "Old," Mrs. Granger finished the sentence with unhidden shock. She absently arranged her daughter's curls to hang more neatly about her face.

"You're looking a bit peaky," Mr. Granger interjected with concern. "Have you been ill?"

"No," Hermione spoke for the first time and she had to clear her throat before continuing. It was painful to realize that she was getting ready to lie and tell her parents that she had some late nights due to pre-holiday exams. "No, I haven't been ill." She cleared her throat again and forged ahead before she lost her nerve. "But I really do need to discuss something with you."

**

Hermione quietly closed her bedroom door behind her and leaned her forehead against the painted wood for a long moment. Her father had brought up her belongings before returning to the living room for the conversation she had told them she wanted to have as soon as they returned home so Pig's twitterings and Crookshanks' yowls broke her from her reverie. Silently, she unlatched Crookshanks' cage and tossed him one of his favorite toys so he could be entertained. She then went to Pig's cage and allowed him to flutter around the room.

Taking a seat at her cedar roll-top desk, Hermione opened a drawer to extract parchment, quill, and ink so she could write to Harry and Ginny and reassure them about her safe arrival. Dear Harry and Ginny were the only words she managed to write in her neat cursive before dropping the quill and leaning back in her chair. Her fingers dug into the armrests of her chair as she closed eyes.

Ron?

Infinite, horrible silence.

Hermione swallowed hard. Come on, Ron, I know you can hear me.

When he failed to respond again, Hermione next tried to tap into his thoughts. She frowned as that effort failed too. It wasn't as though she hadn't reached Ron before; in fact, most of the time she couldn't contact Ron whenever she tried--he always had initiated their connection. This time, however, it just felt different. It was almost as though she knew she could get to Ron, but something was blocking her. Or to be more precise, Ron was blocking her again. She didn't know why he would continue to keep her out of his thoughts, especially now.

"Ron, I know you're there," She didn't know why she decided to speak out loud, but once she did, Hermione felt considerably more comfortable. She just wasn't used to telepathic communication just yet. "I know you don't want me poking around in your mind, and I understand that, but we don't have to talk like we did the other day, but I just need to feel you and make sure that you're alright." She leaned forward in concentration. "So could you please let me in?"

She opened her eyes when there was no change and nervously brushed her hair back. "Ron, you're starting to scare me," she admitted. "You've always been there when I need you, and I don't want to complain, but I really need to know you're all right, so please,"

Hermione hated weakness and she hated that she had been reduced to this state, but she couldn't help herself. She was perfectly willing to openly beg for Ron. "We've got a plan to find you," she told him. "It's a good one too; do you want to hear what it is?"

She sighed as she waited again; maybe Ron was asleep or something--she really didn't want to think about what that something could be--and if she kept talking, he would realize that she was trying to reach him. She would have thought he could have sensed her distress, but there was a first time for everything. She couldn't very well expect Ron to always be there every, single time she was upset.

"Christmas holidays started today," she continued. "Harry's spending the holidays with your family. I'm going to head over there pretty soon myself." She nervously twisted her hands together which had been resting on the desktop. "I hate that I always have to tell you my problems, but you're the only one I can talk to about these things, so even if for some reason you can't hear me, I'm going to tell you anyway."

"Uh, I told them--I told my parents everything." For the first time since that horrible conversation, her bottom lip quivered warningly. Pig hooted softly in commiseration as he settled down on Hermione's shoulder. She smiled at the gesture--it fit that Ron's owl was so empathetic. "And it was just as awful as I imagined. I've never seen them that angry, especially when they realized that I kept this from them until there is nothing they can do to get me out of this mess. I understand that, of course--if I was in their position, I would react the exact same way.

"They know everything now; it took ages since they asked loads of questions, but they know everything that's ever happened. I hope you don't mind but they know about us, although I think they already knew on some level since I talk about you incessantly." Hermione laughed quietly. "You know, I always knew they felt uncomfortable with the magical world, but I never realized just how apprehensive they are about magic and now I just made matters even worse.

"And they've conceded that I make my own decisions now since I'm of age, and they promised they would always pay for whatever school I chose to attend, so money's not an issue." Hermione had to pause to bite her trembling lip and Pig affectionately nipped her ear while Crookshanks leapt off the bed to rub comfortingly against her legs. "But they did say because I am making adult decisions, I should be living like an adult so basically, I'm not allowed to live here anymore. I can stay here for Christmas, but after that, I have to move out.

"Now I know what you're thinking, and I don't think it's a good idea for me to stay at the Burrow for the entire summer. I have an aunt in London that I'm going to write to or else maybe I can try to get a flat of my own somehow--I do have a bit of money saved up." She wiped her eyes with annoyance. "I think that this is for the best, really. They'll be completely disconnected from me so I won't have to worry about them being targeted because of me and they are rather irritating at times; they still treat me like an infant, so it'll be better for me to leave home."

That bit of logic didn't stop her from needing to bury her face into her hands and wipe her eyes once again. Crookshanks jumped up onto her lap and nuzzled her stomach to attract her attention. Hermione leaned back so she could scratch her cat's ears. She remained silent for a long moment.

"It was the right thing to do," Hermione said quietly. "Thank you for that,"

She closed her eyes as she tried once again to find him. "You're really not going to talk to me tonight, are you?" she finally conceded defeat. She smiled bitterly as she waited once again for an indication that he was listening. "I don't know which I would prefer: you hearing this and not wanting to talk to me or you not being able to hear me because you're hurt."

"Last chance, Ron," She held her breath as she waited once again with her heart thudding with anticipation. "All right," she whispered. "You know that whenever you want just to--you know. Anytime, anywhere, Ron, I just want to know that you're safe." She picked up the quill and held it over the parchment, poised to start scrawling away before closing her eyes once again and picturing Ron smiling at her in her mind. "And I think that you know this already, but I love you."

And wherever he heard her or not, Hermione felt a bit better as she began to slowly write in her pristine, perfect script.

**

Hermione?

It took Hermione a few moments to fully rouse herself from her deep sleep so she could answer him appropriately. "Ron, is that you?" she asked while sleepily sitting up in her bed.

Yeah, sorry I woke you.

"No, no, don't be," Hermione reassured him, forgetting that speaking out loud was not necessary. "I was getting worried; I haven't heard from you in days--are you all right?"

Yeah, I'm fine. He was blocking her very effectively this time and she was so disoriented from being jerked awake that Hermione could even clearly tell if he was lying or not. In fact, now that she thought about it, he was unusually terse--Ron had never been this stiff in their communication. She shook her head to clear the drowsy cobwebs and closed her eyes to focus.

Ron, you sound odd; what is it?

I know where I am.

That effectively knocked Hermione's lethargy far, far away. WHAT?

Little Hangleton--it's the town where Lord Voldemort used to live. His father's house; the Riddle manor is its name.

Are you certain that's where you are? Hermione asked sharply as she flicked on her bedside lamp and swung her legs out of her bed.

Yeah.

Okay, Hermione was rummaging through her desk drawer for some parchment. Okay, I'll get help to you as fast as I can.

Thanks, Hermione.

She stopped her search so she could focus solely on Ron, or try to focus on Ron, he was still blocking her. Ron, did they hurt you again? Is that why you aren't letting me in?

There was a long silence that told her everything she needed to know. Okay, she thought again, hastily scrawling a note for Harry. Okay, don't worry, just hang on, I'll get the Order to you as fast as I can. Just hold on, understand?"

Yeah, I will. Just--just get them here fast.

Tears sprung to her eyes at the desperate tone radiating from Ron's thoughts. I promise I will.

Riddle Manor in Little Hangleton, Ron repeated.

I know; don't worry--I'm leaving right now.

Thanks, Hermione.

With an abrupt pop, Ron was gone. Instantly, Hermione sprang into action. She stuffed her brief note to Harry and the Order into an envelope while clicking her tongue loudly. "Pig!" Pig had returned only a half-hour before Hermione had gone to sleep, wearied from the long journey to London and did not appreciate being awakened so rudely. But he seemed to sense that this was something very urgent and he hooted tiredly to indicate his willingness to embark on another mission. "I need this to Harry as fast as you can, understand?" Pig twittered again as Hermione tied the letter to his leg. "Hurry!" she ordered the second she completed the knot. Pig instantly shot out of the window and disappeared into the early morning.

Hermione glanced at her clock before dragging her trunk out from under the bed. It was a bit after four o'clock in the morning. Pig could make it to London in a little over two hours. If she hadn't received a reply by seven, she was going to head into London herself.

"Hermione?" Mr. Granger knocked quietly on her door. "May I come in?"

Hermione swore under her breath; she hadn't wanted to wake her parents. "Come in,"

Her father slipped inside and closed the door behind him. "You're up a bit early,"

"Yes, well, loads to do," Hermione replied distractedly as she started to throw her clothes back into the trunk.

"I thought you were going to the Weasleys the day after Christmas, not the day before," Mr. Granger sat on the edge of Hermione's bed, yawning as he tied the sash to his dressing gown.

"Change of plans," Hermione explained testily, now tossing her books into the case. "I may have found Ron."

"How?" Jonathan Granger asked.

"I--well--we--magic," Hermione finally got out a coherent word. "A spell I tried worked, and now I know where he is so I have to tell the Order so they can find him." She didn't have time to explain that not only was she in love with a wizard but she could also telepathically communicate with him.

"So you're off to London?"

"Probably," Hermione looked about the room somewhat frantically. "Have you seen my wand?"

"Try under your pillow," her father advised. Hermione nodded as she remembered she always stowed her wand there for safekeeping wherever she slept and went to retrieve it. "When are you leaving?"

"Well, I just sent them an owl, and I have to wait until it gets there and they get here," Hermione hypothesized. She couldn't simply tell the Order what Ron had said in the letter lest it was intercepted. All she had written was that she needed immediate transportation or an Order member at her home as soon as possible; her plan to find him had worked. It was somewhat cryptic; anyone with half a brain would know that she was talking about Ron, but they didn't know that she knew precisely where he was. She just hoped that whoever came to retrieve her could find a record of her home address. She knew it wouldn't be wise to write that down but none of the Weasleys had ever been to her house; she had always met them in Diagon Alley. But the Ministry had records and Mr. Weasley was the bloody Minister of Magic himself; they would be able to find her. Hermione glanced at the clock again--only ten minutes had passed. How on earth was she going to be able to wait for two more hours?

"Do you want me to drive you to London?"

Hermione froze. They lived an hour outside of London and this early in the morning, there would be very little traffic to hinder their arrival. She could be at Grimmauld Place before Pig even arrived. "You would do that?"

"Of course, I know how important Ron is," Mr. Granger rose from the bed. "Just let me tell your mother where were going and you get dressed and finish packing and we'll be on our way." He paused at the door. "Unless you'd rather just leave and come back after you tell them what you know."

Hermione met her father's eyes. "I think it would better if I stayed in London."

He sighed. "What about Christmas?"

"I'm sorry," she said simply. She wouldn't be able to enjoy the holidays if she was just waiting to hear word about Ron's rescue. Besides, if they did find him and brought him home, she was going to be spending every possible moment at his side.

"You do realize it's things like this that make us dislike your school so intently," her father said quietly.

"Yes," Hermione answered while stuffing Pig's empty cage into her trunk. "But you do realize that that doesn't change anything."

William Granger let out another heavy sigh before nodding in assent. "I'll go talk to your mother."

**

"Hermione? What on earth are you doing here--we weren't expecting you until the day after tomorrow!"

"I know, I know," Hermione dragged her belongings into the foyer of Grimmauld Place. She wanted to tell Mrs. Weasley instantly why she was here, but Mrs. Black's shouts were effectively drowning out any further attempts for conversation. Professor Lupin finally snapped the curtains shielding the hideous decrepit woman from view and Hermione hurriedly began to speak. "I know where Ron is,"

"WHAT?"

"I don't know if Harry or Ginny said anything about--"

"Harry told me," Lupin interjected.

"Well, he contacted me last night. He's in Little Hangleton."

"Tom Riddle's hometown," Lupin said quietly.

"You--you talked to Ronnie?"

"Yes," Hermione told Mrs. Weasley offhandedly before focusing on Lupin. "Professor, he's there, I'm sure of it."

"REMUS!"

Hermione never knew that Lupin could move so quickly as he grabbed his wand and began to hurtle up the stairs in the direction of Harry's shout. Harry met him on the first landing, panting heavily and clutching a very familiar piece of parchment.

"Remus, it's Hermione, she knows..."

"I know, I know," Remus paused to swallow hard and rest a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Don't ever yell like that again,"

"Oh, sorry," Harry apologized, looking a bit stricken as he realized how much he had frightened Remus by shouting as though he was being murdered.

"Quite all right," Remus gave him a parting pat on the shoulder before gesturing towards the ground floor. "If you wish to find out what Hermione knows, I suggest you ask her yourself,"

"Hermione," Harry bolted past his former professor and met Hermione as she bounded up the stairs.

"He at Little Hangleton," Hermione said before Harry could even ask a question.

Harry whirled to face Lupin. "Are we going now?"

"You are not going anywhere," Lupin told him sternly. "I am going to gather the Order so we can arrange a plan of action,"

"You're not going to go now," Hermione protested. "But he's hurt, Professor, and I said I get help as quickly as I could,"

"And you are," Remus Lupin reassured her. "We can't just go charging into the Riddle manor without a plan, now can we?"

"You want me just to sit here and wait?" Harry demanded.

"Yes, I do, Harry!" Lupin snapped. He met Harry's eyes and there must have been something in those wolfish eyes that made Harry instantly looked rather abashed. Hermione had to remember to ask Lupin what his trick was to make Harry this complacent. "Now, listen to me, you two," he lectured. "You can come with me to the meeting to hear what the plan of action is--Hermione, you're of age now, I believe, and Harry, as your guardian, I give you permission to sit in." Hermione vaguely realized that she had never known that Remus was now Harry's guardian although she didn't know why she expected anything less--who else would be responsible for him, the Dursleys? "But once we move out, you two and Ginny are going to stay here--Hogwarts students are not allowed to partake in Order missions, you understand me?" Hermione and Harry both nodded. "And just in case you become tempted to follow us," Lupin continued warningly, "I assure you; we have some very, very watchful people who will be keeping a close eye on you,"

**

"Your turn, Ginny,"

Ginny scowled as she carefully considered her options in the half-hearted game of Exploding Snap that was currently under way. "I cannot believe that we're being babysat by you lot,"

"Ah, how quickly they forget," Fred Weasley bemoaned. "Remember the good old days when we watched this little one, George,"

"That was when she worshiped the ground we walked on," George recalled.

"She was so much gentler then, sweeter, kinder, a true angel,..."

"...and incapable of speech,"

The twins snickered in perfect unison.

"That's not funny," Ginny bit out of her clenched teeth.

Fred rolled over on his back so he could stare in mock concentration at the ceiling. "Actually, Ginny, I think it is,"

"Fred," Ginny warned, "I will hex you, it will hurt, and I will laugh and then I will tell Angelina."

"Ah, Ginny, that would be so much scarier if your wand wasn't locked in your bedroom," Fred smirked. She scowled at her brother--before being trapped in the ballroom in Grimmauld Place, she, Harry, and Hermione had to relinquish their wands so they couldn't use magic against Fred and George in order to follow the Order to Little Hangleton.

Ginny finally came to realize that sniping at her brothers was not going to accomplish her goals so she quickly changed tact. "Look, aren't you embarrassed? You always complained about not being allowed to join the Order sooner and now that you finally are, look at your position: a bloody babysitter? Don't you want to do something?

"It's not the most glamorous of posts," George conceded. "But we're doing our part; that's all that matters."

Ginny eyed her brothers suspiciously. "Liar,"

"Look, little sister," Fred sat up so he could face his sister dead on. "You're not leaving this room so just shut up and play,"

"And you both really have no desire to find your little brother yourself?" Ginny pressed. "You're content to just let everyone handle this?"

"We're handling plenty, Ginny," George snapped. "For one thing, we're the only ones who are putting up with you."

"Ginny," Fred intercepted, sensing that his brother was dangerously close to releasing his little-seen rage. "We're doing the best we can, all right? Do you really think that Ron would want all of us to blindly run in a castle full of Death Eaters and probably get ourselves blown up? We just have to be patient..."

"Since when have you two ever been this patient and noble?" Ginny interrupted. She folded her arms over her chest. "What's in it for you?"

"Nothing..." Fred began to protest but George held out a hand to stop his twin brother.

"No, Fred, she wants to know," George cocked his head challengingly to the side. "We get twenty Galleons each to make sure you three don't leave this room,"

Ginny sputtered in outrage as she glanced at Hermione and Harry who had silently watching the row. Neither of them attempted to respond so Ginny forged ahead once again. "So this is about money," she screeched. "Your sister's sanity is worth twenty Galleons, is it?"

"Actually, it's worth less," George corrected with a smirk. "6.667 Galleons, to be precise."

"I'll give you twenty-five each to let me out of here right now," Ginny offered.

"You don't have fifty Galleons," Fred scoffed.

"I'll get it somehow," Ginny snapped. "Just remove that Barrier charm!"

"Nope," Fred refused. "Now sit down before you have a stroke."

"No!"

"Ginny, you ever wonder why Mum never tells you anything?" George gestured at Ginny's red face and clenched fists. "Maybe it's because you throw a tantrum every time you don't get your way!"

"This is not a temper tantrum!"

"And maybe Fred and I are just trying to protect you lot so instead of screaming at us, you should thank us, sit down, shut up, and make your next move!" George continued furiously, fire blazing from his brown eyes.

Hermione stared at George for a long moment, recalling vividly the conversation they had had the night after Ron's kidnapping. She could tell by the rigidity of his shoulders and the terseness in his voice that he was very, very worried about his little brother and wanted to help bring him home. But he knew that there were other important things to tend to besides the actual rescue, and one of those things was keeping the promise he had made to Ron the previous summer.

"Protect us?" Ginny let out a sarcastic laugh. Her hands were on her hips as she stared down at her brothers were still seated on the floor. "Have you ever faced a Death Eater? Because if I remember correctly, I believe that you two are the only ones in this room who haven't! You two are the least serious people I know; how on earth can I be expected to depend on you to protect me when all you do is crack jokes!"

"Hey!"

"Damn it, I just wish that this family would stop treating me like a baby when I've faced just as much as any of you!" Ginny continued heatedly. "So until you've had You-Know-Who possess you or you've been running from Death Eaters with a broken ankle, don't tell me that I'm a little baby that needs protection--I've dealt with plenty, thank you very much!"

Ginny's face was incredibly flushed and Hermione exchanged a worried look with Harry. He had been seated on the window seat, watching for some sign of a successful mission and tactfully trying to ignore the Weasley squabble. However, it appeared that outside involvement would be necessary; Ginny looked ready to throw a few punches.

"All right, that's enough," Harry said loudly as he rose from his perch from the window. Ginny whirled on him, ready to turn on him if necessary while Fred and George stared mutinously up at the Boy Who Lived. Hermione hung back, prepared to spring in at a moment's notice from Harry, but she had a feeling that he should handle this. "We're all worried about Ron but screaming at each other isn't going to get him back any quicker." He looked pointedly at Ginny. "We just have to wait."

"You're one to tell me about patience and waiting around," Ginny scoffed. "After all the things you've done."

Fred, George, and Hermione all stiffened sharply at Ginny's words. They knew exactly what reckless incident Ginny was referring to, and they couldn't believe that she was being so openly cruel.

If Harry was hurt by her words, he managed to swallow his emotions and continue to look at her dead in the eye. "Turning this on me isn't going to help either. I would have thought that the Ministry fiasco last year would have taught you that running straight into danger isn't going to help matters; I know that's what I learned that night." Ginny finally began to look ashamed and lowered her head. Harry let out a long breath and nudged her slightly with his foot. "Hey," he said quietly, pausing until she looked up at him. He pointed to one of the cards in the Exploding Snap game. "I'd try that one; it's your turn, isn't it?"

Ginny nodded wordlessly before kneeling back down on the floor to resume the game. Fred mouthed Harry a quick "thank you," but George still looked properly outraged.

"We do a hell of a lot more for this family than just crack jokes," George mumbled.

"Like what?" Ginny asked flatly as she moved the card Harry suggested.

"We give half our wages to Dad," George relayed. "We visit Mum every week; we work for the Order, and we make all of you laugh on a regular basis."

"And how does that help?" Ginny demanded.

"Haven't you heard laughter is the best medicine?" George returned edgily. "Sometimes when things are so awful, all you can do is laugh your fool heads off."

"Your turn, mate," Fred told his brother quietly. George grumpily made his next move as Fred attempted to resuscitate the humor in the tense room. "Yup, we're the regular comedians around here," he said cheerily. "The only person invulnerable to our wicked wit is the one who I like to call, 'The One with the Cauldron with the Perfect Thickness Shoved Up His Bum'," George let out a guffaw as he finished his turn and Ginny couldn't help a small smile of her own lighting up her face. Fred shook his head and raised his fist with mock determination. "One day, Percival, one day, we will hear the sound of your dry, humorless laughter once again."

"Where is he, anyway?" Ginny asked. "Did he get to go with the rest of them?"

"Percy, fight?" George laughed again. "Please."

"Percy is here?" Hermione finally spoke up.

"Oh, yeah," Ginny turned around, now lying on her back, propped up on her elbows so she could look up at the table Hermione was sitting at. "He showed up a few days ago and apologized for everything. Said he wanted to help find Ron and make amends and blah, blah blah,"

"And you still don't want to forgive him just yet?"

"Hermione, he didn't even come when Dad was in the hospital," Fred said darkly as he made his move in the Exploding Snap game. "He didn't come when he heard Ron and Ginny had been hurt at the Ministry in June, he didn't congratulate Dad for becoming Minister, and he waited almost a month after Ron left to show up and apologize," He shook his head angrily. "Why should we forgive him without subjecting him to a great deal of groveling?"

"Because he's your brother," Hermione said as if it was the most obvious response in the world.

A loud knock on the door halted all conversation. Fred and George both aimed their wands towards the door. Ginny snorted quietly at their extreme caution; Death Eaters couldn't very well penetrate Grimmauld Place since it was protected by the Fidelius Charm. Hermione, on the other hand, knew that you could never be too careful.

"Who is it?" Fred called.

"Let me in, Fred," Lupin's voice had an unnerving solemnity to it that made Hermione's stomach twist horribly.

Fred flicked his wand and muttered under his breath. The lock clicked open and a pale-faced Lupin quietly walked in and shut the door behind him. "Good, you're all sitting down," Lupin said almost to himself as he crossed to sit in the chair across from Hermione.

"What happened?" Harry asked tightly.

If Lupin heard Harry's question, he was ignoring it completely. He looked at Hermione seriously, hands folded calmly on top of the table between them. "Hermione, I need to know exactly what you experience whenever you 'communicate' with Ron,"

"Why does that matter?" Hermione inquired anxiously.

"Just answer the question, Hermione," Lupin said steadily.

She shrugged slightly while leaning back in her chair. "It's different every time, but basically it's just like he's in me, he's there in mind and I know things about him and...it's difficult to put into words," she finished a tad awkwardly.

"Do you just sense him or is it actually like you're having a conversation with him in your mind?"

"It started with sensing his emotions but the last couple of times, we had a conversation," Hermione revealed.

"And this morning?"

"This morning it was a conversation; he woke me up to tell me that he knew where he was," Hermione stared at her former professor with a great deal of anxiety. "Why do you want to know?"

"What happened, Remus?" Harry repeated loudly.

"Hey," Ginny suddenly sprung to her feet and rushed over to seize Lupin's arm. "You're hurt!"

The other four gaped at the bloodstains on Remus' worn robes. Lupin pulled his arm away, reassuring Ginny that he was perfectly fine, but no one was appeased. "What happened?" George asked.

"Did you find him?" Fred demanded.

Ginny and Hermione just stared at Lupin with wide, fearful eyes, dying yet dreading to hear a response.

Harry, on the other hand, didn't need to hear the words from Lupin's mouth; somehow he already knew.

"It was a trap, wasn't it?"

Lupin met Harry's green eyes for a long moment before nodding slowly.

It felt as though her chair had fallen out from underneath her.

"What?"

"Ron wasn't there," Lupin elaborated. "We thought the house was deserted and let our guard down, and they ambushed."

"Was anyone hurt?" George asked in a hoarse voice.

There was another long, horrible pause as everyone waited with bated breath.

"Emmeline Vance and Elphias Doge were both killed," Lupin revealed gravely. Hermione covered her mouth with her hand to stifle her horror-struck gasp. Harry simply closed his eyes and exhaled sharply with grief. Ginny, Fred, and George looked too shocked and horrified to speak or even move. "Kingsley and Moody are going to have to spend some time at St. Mungo's but they'll be all right." He had to pause to sigh. "And Severus was with us, so his cover was blown--they tried to take him alive, but we managed to get him out of there in time." Lupin gave them all a moment to digest the appalling news before focusing on Hermione once again.

"Hermione, was there anything unusual about your connection with Ron this morning?"

Hermione closed her eyes to concentrate and let out a bitter laugh when she realized something dreadfully important. "Yes," she said, hating herself for not catching this before, "he said Voldemort." She opened her eyes and shook her head in disgust. "I should have known--Ron would never be able to even think Voldemort," She looked down at her lap. "How could I have been so stupid?" she whispered so only Harry heard her.

Harry glanced at her sharply before turning to Remus. "So what do you think happened? They found out about their empathic thing and used Imperius on Ron to make him give Hermione the wrong information?"

"Possibly," Lupin conceded. "But Dumbledore has a more plausible explanation although it is a bit more disturbing," He paused yet again to collect himself.

"We think that Voldemort was the one in Hermione's mind this morning."