Gold Shall Be Squeezed from the Lily-Bower and Nettle

Ach yn anrhegu 'm gormod bethau.

Harry sat against the front door of Privet Drive. It was eight thirty on a humid July day, and he was patiently awaiting the arrival of several members of the Order of the Phoenix. He was partially ecstatic - no more Dursleys and meals composed entirely of lettuce and kumquats (Dudley had ballooned at Smeltings again); he was also somewhat apprehensive, because he would have to see everyone again. Harry had spent the last month moping and dreaming about Sirius and Voldemort; he had corresponded regularly with Ron and Ginny, but other than that, he had secluded himself, only leaving the house at night to walk around and enjoy the silence. He had finished his homework, read all of last year's course books, and had even purchased a copy of Hogwarts: A History by owl. It was a lot more interesting than he would have thought it was. He had ordered several more books to pass the time away. He felt better about what had happened now; Ron and Ginny's constant letters had helped him cope, and he felt that he ready to face the world again.

Harry jumped up as he saw a man with a familiar limp get out of a car and start walking towards him, a black haired witch with him. "Evening, Potter," said Mad-eye, magical eye whirling every which way. Hestia Jones, pink cheeks glowing, smiled at Harry and helped him gather his belongings. Harry ran to the car, and was delighted to see Ron, Ginny, and Neville there.

"Hey, Harry," said Neville and Ginny cheerfully, as Ron scooted to make room for him. "It's packed in here, even with an enlarging charm," he said apologetically. Ginny passed out some chocolate frogs.

"Merlin, it’s hot," said Ron, cracking a window to let some air in.

"Where exactly are we going?" asked Harry, watching as the car made spectacular leaps through traffic, with Mad-Eye looking in desperate need of a vomit bag.

Ron shrugged. "Not sure, mate, only that we had to be taken someplace hidden because of all the stuff that happened last spring," he said, rubbing his forearms.

"I feel so special," said Ginny, smiling gleefully. "Fred and George were so mad that they weren't allowed to know! Mum kept saying that’s what they get for dropping out of school." Ginny cackled evilly, and for the first time in months, Harry laughed. The trip went on for some time, until they at least reached a secluded house in the middle of some forested land.

"About an hour outside of Manchester," said Hestia, in response to Ginny’s question about their whereabouts, opening the car door for them. "There are some people here already. Go in and make yourselves comfortable."

All four kids ran towards the house. It was huge, but comfortable looking, and there were miles of land around them. "Excellent! We can play Quidditch for hours here!" said Ron, whooping in excitement and sheer youthful exuberance. He led the mini-stampede to the house, flinging the doors open. There were various Order members there; Tonks and Remus were deep in discussion with Hogwarts' premiere potions master, Severus Snape. McGonagall was looking over papers with Emmeline Vance, and so on. There were two people, however, that caught Harry and Ron's attention: Mr. and Mrs. Granger. They were standing together, staring out a window.

"Hello, Ron, Harry, Ginny," said Mr. Granger, who nodded at them and then resumed staring out the window.

"She's so happy...” said Mrs. Granger, softly. Harry could feel a slight pulse coming from outside; he pressed his face against the glass to see the cause.

Two young girls were running around the field outside, jumping and acting very much like six year olds. One was wearing a long skirt and a loose blouse, and was dancing as if the world depended on it. The other was in a white tank top and baggy boy shorts. Both had multi-colored streamers in their hands, and they twirled around each other. Harry could see them laughing from here.

"She's so happy," repeated Mrs. Granger to herself. Harry looked up at her curiously; obviously, Mrs. Granger knew one of the girls very well. Did Hermione have a sister? He couldn't remember her mentioning it. The girls started pointing up, laughing and waving their streamers at the sky.

"She never got the chance to be a child," murmured Mr. Granger. "She was picked on so much; she'd come home with black eyes and bruises from the other kids beating up on her. That's why she always read; books were her only solace. Even at school now, she still feels like an outsider, like her friends really don't care about her. But look at her now! I've never seen her laugh so much... she's always been a pretty girl, but she's beautiful when she laughs."

"I'm so glad she met Luna," replied Mrs. Granger. "It's strange, but they’re compatible. They offset one another well.” Luna? Harry squinted. The girl in the long skirt had long, silvery-blond hair. That was definitely Luna. But that meant...

"Wow, is that Hermione?" squeaked Ginny. "I've never seen her act like that before! I didn't know she could move so fast!" Ron goggled at the sight of Luna and Hermione dancing together in a way only children do. Harry and Ron could hear music coming from a Muggle stereo. Some of the words drifted in...”giving....lately....I need..." Ginny screamed as a blur bolted from the sky and landed right on top of the girls. All the kids got ready to run out and save the girls, until they noticed Mr. and Mrs. Granger's benign smiles. The blur stopped, and Hermione climbed onto it, and the blur, a tall young man on a broomstick, took off, Hermione seated in front of him. Luna continued to laugh, and then ran and retrieved her own broom.

They weaved in and out of each other. Even from their height, Harry recognized Hermione's fae-like laughter and Luna's giggles that sounded like water running over chimes, and a vaguely familiar, deeper laughter. They pulled off of moves that made Harry's heart stop, they were so spectacular. They free-fell several times, pulling up just before they hit the ground. Eventually, they stopped, and the girls and the mystery man got off their brooms. Luna and Hermione danced in circles around the man, who laughed and patted the tops of both of their heads. He leaned down and shut off the stereo, making Luna and Hermione pout. Hermione grabbed the man's arm, making Harry feel oddly empty. Luna took Hermione's other hand, making Ron and Harry go red ("Men!" sniffed Ginny, when she saw their reaction). All three of them ran in, the girls pulling the man in.

"Hermione! Luna! I missed you!" shouted Ginny, running towards them. They both looked a bit confused, but hugged her together. Ron and Harry just stood there, looking a bit smug. "Hey Hermione, Luna," said Ron casually, sweeping a lock of hair out of his face and smiling. Harry cracked a grin and said, "It's great to see you both." Luna and Hermione, still hand in hand, nodded, but didn't say a word and made no move to jump on them, something Hermione normally did when she saw Harry after being separated. The man behind them leaned down, to where Harry couldn't see his face. "Luna, 'Mione, would you take my broom upstairs? I'll go get our dinner." The girls nodded, and Hermione shouldered the man's broom, and they ran up the stairs. The man turned to go into the kitchen. "Who are you?" demanded Ron, in a tone of voice that would have gotten him a slap upside the head from his mother. The man merely turned around.

It was Oliver Wood.

"Oliver?" stuttered Harry. "What are you doing here?"

Oliver stared at him impassively. "Same thing you're doing here."

Harry's brow wrinkled. "But we're here because Ron, Ginny, and Neville, and I were at the Battle of the Department of Mysteries last spring. We’re hiding." Oliver continued to stare, and Ginny noticed that Hermione's parents stiffened, as if they had been personally offended.

"I suppose,” said Oliver acidly, "that Hermione and Luna were back at Hogwarts, playing ring around the rosies with the rest of the school?"

"What?" said Harry, now totally confused. Then it dawned on him -Hermione and Luna had fought with them! In fact, Hermione has sustained the worst of the physical injuries... she had almost died. Harry felt his insides squirm guiltily for forgetting. Oliver just stared coldly at them, then turned to the Grangers. "Birget, Esmond, would you like to join us for dinner?" The Grangers nodded, and they headed to the kitchens. Hermione and Luna thundered down a few minutes later. Ron attempted to grab one of the girls, but they both bypassed him easily and slipped into the kitchen, hurrying to the table. Harry watched with a cold sensation in his stomach. Hermione was flanked by Oliver and her father. They all sat at a small, round table, eating Hermione's absolute favorite dish: fish and chips, still in the newspaper. Hermione hair was still gathered in a loose ponytail, which Oliver regularly smoothed over with his non-greasy hand. They laughed a lot, and Harry clenched his fists. How come Hermione was totally ignoring him, yet having such a great time with Luna and Oliver, people she barely knew? He was internally fuming.

Neville watched the whole scene unfold, and shook his head mentally. He had seen this coming for a while. It was going to get messy.

After dinner, Luna, Oliver and Hermione went upstairs, while her parents remained in the kitchen, cleaning up and talking softly. Ron, Harry, Neville and Ginny seized the opportunity to visit Hermione, each hoping to get answers from her and Luna. They opened the door to her room, freezing at the sight that greeted them:

Oliver was stretched on Hermione's bed. Hermione had her head on his stomach, reading a thick book, and Luna was leaning against Hermione's legs. It was a picture of peace and tranquility. And it made Ron and Harry want to punch Oliver mercilessly.

"What in the seven hells is going on?" demanded Ron, striding in and plucking Hermione's book out of her hands. Hermione glared, and grabbed the book back from him. "What's it to you?" she asked in a surly, un-Hermione like tone. Ron looked shocked, but composed himself quickly. "How long have you been here?" he asked in an unnaturally calm voice.

"Since the end of June," came Luna's whisper.

Ron shot a look at her. “I didn't ask you, Loony," he said with a vicious grin. Ginny's indignant "Don't talk to Luna like that, Ron!" did not faze him. A very tall, burly Oliver Wood did.

"Do not talk to Luna like that, Weasley. And do not refer to her as Loony. Her name is Luna Keilantra Lovegood. And just for the record, my name is Oliver Obelix Wood, and this is Hermione Seraphina Granger. Are there any more questions involving our names? Good." And with that, Oliver lay back down on the bed, and Hermione took her spot with her head on his stomach, and Luna returned to her position against Hermione's legs. Harry felt the sudden need to bash something large over Oliver's head. Hermione had resumed completely ignoring them, snuggling her head deeper into Oliver's abdomen.

"Oll's," she asked quietly, "will you hand me my glass of soda?" Oliver reached back and handed it to her. It was obvious that they had done this before; it was too smooth a gesture to show any uncertainty. Harry thought he would explode as Oliver started absentmindedly fanning Hermione's hair out. It was so insignificant, but Harry was pretty sure if anyone else tried to touch her hair, she would have hauled back and smacked them so hard, they'd travel back to the time of the Founders.

Harry sneered. "Oll's?" he asked with a grin on his face. None of the people on the bed showed any indication that they heard Harry.

Harry jumped at the sounds of footsteps behind him. Mr. Granger walked in and took a seat at the edge of the bed. Ron's mouth dropped open; wasn't he the least bit concerned that a 20 year old man was snuggling with his almost 16 year old daughter? "Hermione, pet, your mum and I are going to leave tomorrow, around noon. I just thought you three should know."

Luna sat up, a look of shock in her eyes. "You're not staying, Daddy Esmond?" she asked quietly.

Ron laughed before he could help himself; Mr. Granger shot him such a look of malevolence, Harry was surprised Ron wasn't incinerated on the spot. "You four," he said, his voice grating, "downstairs. Now." Ron began to protest, but Ginny shot him a Molly Weasley glare of Impending Doom. They trooped downstairs, uncertain of the glowering figure of Mr. Granger behind them. He frog marched them into the kitchen, and told them, in no uncertain terms, to sit down and shut up.

"Hermione, Luna, and Oliver have had a very trying summer. I would appreciate it if you would please hold off on cornering them and putting them through the Spanish Inquisition."

"What about me? We're her best friends, and she's totally ignoring me!” interjected Harry angrily. Ron nodded his head in agreement. Mr. Granger raised an eyebrow.

"From the way I hear it, Hermione and Luna were the ones being ignored. I saw Hermione write letter after letter, and Luna did too, and the only replies that either of them got were from Ginny and each other. I lost count of the letters she sent you two - " he shot Harry and Ron a dirty look - "after about 25 letters. Each. Every day, sometimes twice a day, and not one damned word. She was in tears, worrying about you when she should have been taking care of herself. And you two haven't always been there for her, either. Remember the Firebolt incident? You have NO idea how many times I got tear-splattered letters from here after you kept teasing her about her studies. Isn't she the one who helps you pass? Isn't she the one who comforts you?"

Ron and Harry stood defiantly. Who was he to lecture them on how to treat their best friend?. Mr. Granger, who was taller than both of them, looked them back in the eyes. "As for why Luna called me Daddy Esmond, her father disappeared this summer. He's been presumed dead, or MIA. We took Luna in. That's where Daddy Esmond comes from."

"She didn't tell me that!" said Ginny with a shocked look on her face. Mr. Granger turned to face the youngest Weasley. "Apparently, all your letters were filled with 'Harry this' and 'Harry that'. If I remember correctly, Luna did mention it once - I read the letter before she sent it to the Weasley residence - but you didn't mention anything back to her about it. Now, Oliver, Hermione, and Luna are here for a different reason than you, one that doesn't concern you. Leave them alone, or God help me, I'll find my way back here and hang you all from the rafters." And with that, Mr. Granger turned on his heels and stalked out, his wife on his heels. The four of them sat there, stunned.

"I wonder why they were sent here early?" mused Neville. "I suggest we find out tomorrow. It's late, and I need sleep." Neville left and started to climb up the stairs to the bedrooms. The other three followed suit, but Harry and Ron couldn't resist one last peek into Hermione's room.

Luna was curled up on the bed, hugging a stuffed dragon and twitching her feet as she slept. Oliver was in a reclining chair, with Hermione curled up in his lap, head buried into his neck and a hand clutching his shirt in her sleep. Oliver had one arm draped over her protectively, the other on the bed, where Luna had her head in his outstretched hand.

Ron spotted something on the ground. It was some sort of journal. Silently walking in, he picked it up and opened the cover.

It read "Property of Hermione Seraphina Granger, Gryffindor" in swirly gold letters on the inside. Without a second thought, he slipped it under his shirt and tip-toed out. Ron and Harry bid Neville and Ginny goodnight, and Ron fetched a pillow and blanket from his room, with the intentions to camp out on a couch in Harry's room. They hid the journal underneath a pillow, and got into bed, resolving to go through it in the morning.

Ginny sat on the windowsill in her room, staring out the window. She was worried about Luna and Hermione, and she felt horrible for not reading Luna's letters clearly enough. She had assumed that Harry and Hermione were talking, so she hadn't bothered to send off a lot of owls to Hermione. Ginny wished that she had known how distraught Hermione was.

Neville sat on his bed, flipping through an old book that he had found in his father's library. He silently prayed for Oliver, Luna, and Hermione, that at least their sleep would be peaceful. As he fell asleep, a strange, fleeting thought crossed his mind. It was from something his mum had read to him years before, he was sure. A low, gravelly voice spoke in his mind as he drifted off.

"Then shall the North Wind rise against him, and shall snatch away the flowers which the West wind has produced. "

When he woke in the morning, the thought had left him, but a new feeling filled him: dread. It's time, he thought.