Scattered

Hermione stepped out onto the street, giving Neville a few moments' privacy to say good-bye to Megan. They'd had a very nice lunch. Megan was a fun and sweet-natured girl and Hermione had enjoyed meeting her. They'd had loads to talk about, from movies to music to primary school to favorite books; it was nice, she reflected, to have someone from the Muggle world to talk to.

The day she'd learned of the wizarding world, Hermione had been thrilled, excited, exhilarated and only a little bit nervous, all at once. Finding out an entire new civilization existed, one very few people knew about, had been only the beginning. To be told that she was a part of that world already, that a place was waiting there for her... she'd been fervently eager to learn everything about it that she could. In the years that followed, that eagerness had only grown, fed by the constant discovery of new knowledge and new possibilities.

At first she hadn't given much thought to what she'd be leaving behind. She'd expected to leave home for school soon anyhow, and although there were a few friends she'd been sorry to say good-bye to, her quick and fierce love for everything about Hogwarts had quickly eclipsed those regrets. She knew that she'd never forget the first time she'd stepped inside the castle, met her new teachers and been sorted into Gryffindor. It had been one of the best days of her life, and in a sense, it always would be, no matter what came after. That was the day, after all, she'd started out on the journey that had led her to Harry, and to Ron, and to Ginny and all of her friends. Her second family, really.

Even summers and holidays back home had, over the years, grown scarce. Usually she was with the Weasleys, and the few times she stayed home, she and her parents often went on vacation. That time was more about reconnecting as a family and much less about living as a Muggle. Ever since they'd moved to the safehouse, though, Hermione had grown more conscious of the Muggle world and the life she'd left behind -- the life she was half-living, now, while the wizarding world was denied to her.

Megan was just the kind of girl she would have enjoyed being friends with, had she stayed a Muggle. Hermione had watched Neville breathe a sigh of relief as they'd chatted, for he didn't like being secretive, she knew, and yet he didn't know enough about Muggle customs to bluff his way through many conversations alone. With Hermione there, Neville could follow along much more easily. She helped him to talk a bit about his family, without referring to magic, so that Megan could learn more about him. And from what she'd seen, Megan had been thrilled to hear every word.

Hermione smiled to herself. It was completely obvious that Megan was absolutely smitten with Neville. It was all over her face every time she looked at him, every time he spoke, every time they happened to touch oh-so-accidentally; Hermione knew infatuation when she saw it, by now. There was, unfortunately, no way to know where their relationship could ever lead... but for now, it was positively lovely to see that someone appreciated Neville for the wonderful man he was becoming. Hermione couldn't help but be thrilled for her friend.

The door to the pub opened and Neville came out first, holding it for Megan. "Are you sure you don't want us to walk you to your aunt's?" he asked her.

Megan shook her head. "No, no. It's just up the street. My sister's meeting me there and we're going shopping with Aunt Clara, and I'm running late already. It's fine."

"You're sure?"

"Neville, I wouldn't mind heading back to the house on my own," Hermione said. "Go ahead."

"No, no, Jane, I'm really in a rush," Megan said, slinging her bag onto her shoulder and starting off down the sidewalk. "It was lovely meeting you though!"

"Absolutely," Hermione called.

Neville and Megan shared a last good-bye; he watched her head off down the street, waiting until she turned a corner and went out of view. Heading back, he caught Hermione grinning at him and he blushed. "Sorry," he said sheepishly. "I just wanted to make sure she was okay."

"Don't be sorry," Hermione told him. "I think it's sweet."

They started towards home and Hermione couldn't help noticing that Neville still seemed uncomfortable. She frowned, not sure what was bothering him. They'd all gotten along so well.

"Neville, is everything okay?" she asked.

"Huh?" Neville replied, startled. He'd clearly been lost in thought. "Yes, of course."

"Megan didn't say anything... I mean, was I rude, did I talk too much?" Hermione said, worried. She'd tried so hard to be friendly and welcoming to Neville's girlfriend, but maybe she'd come on too strong?

Neville was quick to reassure her. "Oh, no, not at all. She liked you a lot, actually. When we were saying good-bye, she, uh, asked if I thought you'd really meant it about getting together sometime, you know, just the two of you."

"Of course I did!"

"Right. I told her that. She seemed happy about the idea."

Hermione frowned again, stymied. She was glad she hadn't done anything, but Neville did seem on edge about something.

They paused at a street corner, waiting for traffic to clear. It was a busy fall afternoon, with plenty of students from the university rushing in and out of shops and pubs, trying not to be late for class. Hermione looked around and couldn't shake the feeling that they almost belonged among them... almost, she could imagine that their "cover story" was true, that they lived here with her boyfriend's brother, that she and Neville were students like all the rest.

"You know what I was thinking the other day?" Hermione asked.

Neville shook his head. "What?"

"I was thinking that, if we're here much longer, I wish I could go back to school. Be a university student for real, instead of pretending."

Neville didn't look shocked. "Well, you always were so good at all of our classes at Hogwarts. I'm sure you'd do fine here, too."

She smiled ruefully. "I haven't gone to Muggle school in seven years, Neville. I went to primary school, but there's no record of me in any secondary school in Britain."

"There has to be a way," Neville said. "You know, to get you the right... um, credentials. Maybe Charlie can help. The next time he's here, you know, on a supply visit, we'll ask him."

Hermione sighed. "I also haven't learned the things you'd learn in Muggle secondary school, though."

Neville laughed. "Well, now, that part's easy. We'll just get you all the textbooks, and you can read them and I bet you'll end up at the head of all your classes. Like usual."

Hermione felt a wave of affection for her friend and his faith in her. "That's a very nice thing to say." She reached over and took his arm, giving it a warm squeeze. Neville's face turned a bit red but he smiled at her and they continued towards home.

The streets were a bit clearer now; everyone seeming to have finished their mid-day break and headed back to classes, or work, or home. Hermione walked slowly along beside Neville, in no particular hurry to get anywhere.

"So, you think we'll be here a long time?" Neville asked finally.

"I don't know, really," Hermione said thoughtfully. "Something tells me we won't be."

Neville didn't reply.

"Do you know what you're going to do about Megan, if we have to leave?" Hermione asked tentatively. She didn't want to pry, but she couldn't help wondering if this was what was bothering Neville.

He answered readily enough, though. "All I really hope is that I get a chance to say good-bye, just tell her we have to go away or something. I wouldn't feel right, just kind of disappearing on her. She'll think I've dropped her or something, and I wouldn't do that. I don't want her to think of badly of me, you know? After."

"She wouldn't," Hermione protested.

"Well, but she would, if we just had to leave like we did before. That quick, there wouldn't be time... I just wish I could think of some way to make sure I could get a message to her, at least."

"You can, through the postal mail," Hermione told him. "It's how Muggles send each other letters. If you write one ahead of time and sort of keep it handy? If we have to... you know, run, we'll find a way later to send it to her in the Muggle post. I'll show you how. We won't be able to put a return address on it, but you'll be able to say a proper good-bye, anyhow."

Neville grinned at her. "You really are brilliant, Hermione."

She laughed, pulling her arm free to swat him playfully. "Oh, stop it."

Neville blushed a little. "So... how are things with... you and... Ron?" he asked hesitantly.

Hermione couldn't stop herself from smiling. "Quite good," she said.

Truth be told, she'd had a difficult time concentrating this past week -- on anything but Ron, that was. Ron, with his hands in her hair, and his lips trailing down her neck... Ron, who shuddered whenever she kissed his jaw, close to his ear...

The first day after her birthday, they'd spent an inordinate amount of time locked away in their room, at first just talking and laughing and enjoying being together... and then the occasional kiss had turned into more, and more, until she couldn't catch her breath... and that's when she'd suggested that they start leaving the house a bit more. Because at least in public, she knew there was no chance she'd throw caution to the winds and let things go further than they really should.

She'd dragged Ron to the movies, and to the shops and cafés she'd grown fond of in the past few weeks. Ron hadn't seemed to care where they were, as long as they were together. He also wasn't trying to rush her into anything, and that was just one more reason she loved him and knew how very right they were together.

Hermione had loved Ron for so very long, and she knew how he felt about her. She trusted him. She wanted him. And she knew he very much wanted her. Being with him was intoxicating. At night, when they kissed, there was often a little voice in the back of her head saying how easy it would be to let go, to mold herself to his body, to reach for him, to tell him she was ready, that there should be no more waiting, that life was too short to hold off on something they both knew was as inevitable as the tides... that they should be together, truly together in every way possible, before it was too late...

But Hermione didn't listen to that voice. She refused to live that way, as if they had to rush all of their happiness now, just in case there was no future. She wanted to make love to Ron, someday soon, but not just yet, and not out of fear and desperation. She'd given up so much, so many of her dreams. She wouldn't give up any more. She planned to enjoy every moment they spent together, not because it might be the last, but because, in fact, it was only the beginning.

Besides, she thought with a bit of a guilty grin, it's not like there isn't plenty of... um, exploring... to do along the way to keep us busy for now.

She shook her head and cut off that particular train of thought... it seemed like she spent all of her time daydreaming about Ron lately. She glanced at Neville and saw he was smiling at her. She sighed sheepishly. "I drifted off there a bit, didn't I?"

He laughed. "You kind of did. But it's okay."

"We're really happy," she told Neville quietly. "But it feels wrong, sometimes. In the midst of everything that's happening. Does that make sense?"

Neville nodded. "Sure."

"Do you feel that way about Megan?" she asked, curious.

"I guess so, sometimes," Neville answered. "I know that we'll be out having a good time and I'll forget, for a second, what's really going on in the world. Then I feel kind of guilty about it."

"Exactly," Hermione replied.

"But... then later, I think... I mean, I don't think we should feel bad about being happy, really," Neville continued. "I think we should be glad, instead, that they... haven't beaten us. Not if we can still keep living, you know?"

She smiled. "I do know. And I think you're absolutely right."

They took a turn down an alley, a short-cut Bill and Neville had discovered a few weeks ago. It cut behind a row of shops and led almost directly to their street. Hermione didn't enjoy having to slip past the row of garbage bins stacked to one side, but she'd made a point of using the short-cut ever since she'd discovered that a ginger-haired cat made the alley his home. No one could ever replace Crookshanks in her heart, of course, but she liked seeing a feline reminder of him every now and then.

She was looking around for the cat when a door opened up just as they passed, the back door to one of the shops, she supposed. Or possibly a pub, from the sounds coming from inside. Two men tumbled out, bickering loudly. Distracted, she didn't give them much thought. She peeked behind a few crates where she'd seen the cat hide before.

Suddenly, Neville took hold of her arm in a fierce grip.

"What is it?" she asked, confused.

She glanced up at his face and was alarmed to see the panic written there. "What?" she repeated, starting to feel anxious.

Neville didn't meet her eyes, just gripped her arm and tried to pull her away, staring straight ahead the whole time. Hermione turned to see what he was looking at and for a moment, her brain couldn't process what she was seeing.

Two young men in robes, laughing and shoving each other roughly. One had bright blond hair, the other dark.

Two young men. In robes.

She gasped and Neville pulled her harder, but it was too late; the dark-haired boy turned and spotted them and his eyes narrowed. "Wait... wait..."

The blond turned and Hermione couldn't believe she hadn't recognized him sooner, couldn't believe she'd been idly rummaging around in an alley... three feet away from Draco Malfoy.

She reached for her wand but Malfoy was faster. "Expelliarmus," he said sharply, and both her wand and Neville's flew through the air, sailing in a lazy arc. The dark-haired boy -- Theodore Nott, she realized -- caught them both easily.

Hermione clutched at Neville's hand and tried to think...

"I'll be damned. Today must be my birthday, Nott," Malfoy said, grinning. "Finding the one Mudblood we didn't get, the one I wanted most of all. It's too good to be true. How've you been, Granger?"

Her chin went up. "Sod off, Malfoy."

He laughed. "That's the best you've got?" He chuckled a bit more, then smirked, taking a step closer. "It really is the best you've got, though, that's the sad part... for you."

Hermione shot a quick glance down the alley; there was no one to be seen. If she just turned and----

"Don't bother even thinking about it," Malfoy said in a lazy sort of way. "You're not going anywhere. Incarcerous."

Thick, rough ropes shot from his wand and bound her arms to her body and her legs and feet together. Hermione tried to keep her balance but couldn't prevent herself from toppling over, laying in an awkward position at Malfoy's feet. She struggled against the ropes but to no avail.

Neville shot forward, crouching down beside her. "Hermione, are you okay?" he asked, lifting her shoulders from the ground and trying to pull her up.

"Step away from her," Nott said, advancing towards them, his wand trained on Neville.

Hermione took a deep breath and prepared to yell; Malfoy was watching her too carefully, however, and pointed his wand at her throat. "Keep in mind that any Muggle who shows up, I'll kill. And I don't think you can handle that kind of innocent blood on your hands, can you?" he asked coldly.

That threat silenced her as nothing else could have. But there has to be another way...

"Nott, did you know about this?" Malfoy was asking his friend. "Was this a little surprise you had planned for me, bringing me to where the Mudblood was?"

The other boy laughed. "Wish I could take credit, but I had no idea."

"Nott's brother's got a house in the area, see," Malfoy told them conversationally, as if they were old school chums instead of old school enemies. "And we just stopped for a pint. Just my good luck finding you here, Granger. My very good luck."

Neville pulled Hermione into a sitting position, leaning her back against the fence. "Leave her alone, Malfoy."

The slick-haired boy seemed to finally notice that Hermione wasn't alone. "Longbottom, are you still here? Go on, get out."

Neville and Hermione glanced at each other, confused. Malfoy's wand was still trained on them both; Nott came up behind him, smirking, his wand held at ready as well.

Malfoy sighed. "Listen. You're a worthless blood-traitor coward. Personally, I think the world would be better off without scum like you. But the Dark Lord doesn't want to waste even pureblood like yours, and I, for one, never question what the Dark Lord says. Right, Nott?"

"Right."

"So," Malfoy drawled. "go. Run. Get out of here. Our business isn't with you today, and I've got a Mudblood to take care of."

"Neville, go," Hermione said softly. "Go." She tried to convey with her eyes that they had no other choice: he should run, try to get to Bill and Ron, try to get help. She knew they'd never make it back in time but it didn't matter, he'd be safe, at least...

Neville shot her an incredulous look. "I'm not leaving you. Or listening to a little ferret like Malfoy."

Malfoy's eyes narrowed and he kicked out viciously at Neville, catching him on the thigh. He was wearing dragon-hide boots with sharp, steel toes; Neville fell and rolled over in pain.

"Watch your mouth, traitor," Malfoy said quietly. "And go before I don't give a damn anymore and kill you like a dog. The Dark Lord does understand if we have to kill someone who stands in the way of our getting rid of Mudblood swine."

"Neville, please," Hermione said again.

"No," he replied, crawling to his feet to stand in front of her. "It's going to be okay, Hermione."

Malfoy and Nott laughed. "Really?" Malfoy said. "You've turned quite noble, Longbottom. For all the good it'll do you. I'm through playing around. Leave now or you're a dead man."

"No," Neville said simply. He looked Malfoy in the eye and then turned to Hermione. "It's going to be okay," he reassured her again, smiling just a little.

"I can't believe this," Nott was saying. Hermione glanced at Malfoy; he looked incredulous as well.

"Believe it," Neville said, still looking at Hermione.

"Fine," Malfoy laughed, shaking his head. His eyes, however, were as cold as ice. "Avada Kedavra."

There was a flash of green light and Neville crumpled to the ground at her feet, his face turned away from her.

"NO!" Hermione yelled, struggling forward, awkwardly trying to inch herself towards Neville. She couldn't get very far but kept trying, trying to ignore Malfoy and Nott laughing above her, trying to ignore the tears clouding her vision and the awful, terrifying stillness of Neville's body, sprawled before her.

"Didn't think he had it in him," Nott said.

Malfoy sneered. "Had what?"

"Well, you know, standing up to us like that," Nott said with a shrug.

Malfoy didn't seem to like this idea. "Fat lot of good it did him. He's dead, isn't he?"

Hermione sobbed. She just wished she could see Neville's face, just to be sure... but Malfoy's words rang true and Hermione knew there was no hope... for either of them, anymore.

"Your turn," Malfoy said, leaning over her.

She wished she could wipe her eyes. She wished she could stand on her own two feet the way Neville had done, that she could look Malfoy in the eye before he cursed her. She didn't want to die, not now, but especially not like this, lying on the ground, bound and helpless.

"What, no brave words? No insults, no empty threats about how I'm going to pay for this someday? I'm disappointed, Granger."

She tried to think of something, some curse or some threat to hurl in Malfoy's face, some kind of parting words that would put fear into his heart long after she was gone... but there was nothing. All she could think about were her parents... and Crookshanks... Harry... Ginny... and Ron.

Ron, I'm so sorry, she thought, shaking with tears. I never wanted to leave you.

Malfoy stood a few feet away from her, nearly giddy with glee. "You know, Nott, this really is the best day of my life. I've been waiting to do this for a very long time."

He held his wand aloft in a dramatic way and took a deep breath. "Avada Kedavra," he said again, this time with an almost maniacal glee.

Hermione saw the flash of green light again. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, trying to brace herself for... she didn't know what it would be like... it would be over in just a second...

Nothing happened.

Slowly, carefully, she opened her eyes.

Neville still lay beside her, his head turned away. She could see the wind ruffling his hair while the rest of him stayed so still. A few yards away, Nott was splayed on the ground, leaning up against the building, breathing heavily, staring at her. He didn't seem to be injured, just... shocked. His eyes were wide and he was staring, staring at the ground, a look of horror on his face.

Sprawled between them lay Draco Malfoy, his face turned towards her, his eyes wide and lifeless.

"What did you do?!" Nott yelled. "WHAT DID YOU DO?!"

Hermione couldn't answer. Her head felt heavy and there was a burning in her chest; she couldn't seem to fight the blackness overcoming her, and a moment later she slid into unconsciousness.