You Call This A Holiday?

'Harry. I must inform you of the situation before we go inside. I am afraid it may come as quite a shock.' Dumbledore spoke softly to Harry on the doorstep of number 12 Grimmauld Place; Mad-Eye Moody and Emmeline Vance had left them at the door at Dumbledore's request with the intention of following up on a lead he had been tracking. The late afternoon sky was darkening with dense clouds promising rain soon, which Dumbledore watched stretching above them from underneath his Invisibility Cloak. Even though Harry was also wearing his own Cloak, Dumbledore could feel the boy's emerald eyes watching him intently. Despite what Harry had suspected for years, Dumbledore could not see through Invisibility Cloaks. Yes, admittedly, he did have a very acute sense for these kinds of things; he was an old man and had seen many things in his years as Headmaster. Good intuition and keen guesswork helped him retain the respect, obedience and above all, trust of the wizarding community. But he was not omnipotent. He was not immortal.

Dumbledore waited as a group of muggles in their late teens ambled up the street, smashing glass bottles on the side of the road with rocks and throwing sticks at a mangy cat skulking in the shadows of a parked car. When Dumbledore spoke again he looked straight ahead, still watching the clouds instead of turning towards Harry. 'Recently, Harry, there have been more reports of Death Eater activity and it has been confirmed that they have the Dementors of Azkaban on their side. You friend Miss Granger's parents' home was attacked while you all were still on the Hogwarts Express. They were not at home, but we left them in protective quarters until their home could be more adequately secured. Hermione was taken here and then we were notified of a similar attack at Neville Longbottom's grandmother's home a few days later. There were dementors, and Mr Longbottom managed to keep them at bay with a formidable Patronus Charm. Several members of the Order were on hand to help and luckily no one was harmed.'

Dumbledore paused thoughtfully before continuing. 'The fear was that they were targeting a specific group - your friends. Those who were at the Department of Mysteries. As a precaution we sought out Ms Lovegood and brought her here as well after Neville came. We believed that with all the security on this house it would be the safest place for them to be.'

'So why couldn't I have come here straight away, too, Professor?'

'Well Harry, at the time we were under the impression that you would be safest while under the protective roof of your Aunt and Uncle's home. We held that belief until today.'

There was a tense silence while Harry steeled himself for the news. When he resumed speaking again this time, there was a note of regret and defeat in Dumbledore's voice. Sounding as if he were speaking from very far away, he regretfully told Harry the truth.

'Your friends were very concerned that amid all these difficulties they had forgotten to send you a birthday gift, A very thoughtful group of young people, your friends are, Harry.' Harry allowed himself a small, reserved smile under his cloak. 'Concerned that they hadn't bought anything to send, they requested permission for two of them to go to Diagon Alley under supervision to go shopping. Conditionally, I agreed. Tonks took Hermione and Luna out for an hour, but they became separated.' Harry waited with anxious rapt attention as Dumbledore took a deep, weary breath. 'While Luna briefly visited her father at work, Tonks and Hermione were abducted while crossing the street.'

Shocked, Harry braced himself and lowered his body down onto the top step in a daze. He couldn't speak, he was so stunned. This time a year ago he probably would have flown into a rage and screamed at Dumbledore for not preventing this somehow, but not now. Since learning the prophesy about himself and Voldemort, Harry was not prone to expressing extreme emotions any longer. It seemed to take too much energy that could be better spent elsewhere. Now, though, harry believed a good yell might be cathartic, yet he abstained. Hermione and Tonks. Gone. How could it have happened so quickly?

'Is Luna alright?'

Dumbledore sighed. 'Yes, she is. She's inside.'

Sitting silently on the step, Harry toyed with a patch of frayed denim from a small hole in the knee of his jeans. He didn't know what to say. Yes, Luna was fine, but what about Hermione and Tonks? There were many other thought and questions plaguing him that he couldn't bring himself to ask.

Harry felt a hand on his shoulder, gently but firmly, and he felt slightly reassured. He stood up once more and waited for Dumbledore to unlock the front door.

The atmosphere inside the Order of the Phoenix headquarters crackled with tense anxiety as its occupants fidgeted with nervous energy, performing tasks solely to kill time.

Neville sat by himself with the morning's crossword on his lap and holding a well-chewed pencil in his hand like a weapon, poised to attack the little squares. He kept trying to catch Luna's eye but she was resolutely ignoring his gaze. Instead, her mind dwelt on a magazine quiz that she, Ginny and Hermione had done in the Quibbler a few days ago entitled 'Are You A Bad Friend?'. Maude wrote it, Luna knew, so as usual she took that to mean that it was complete rubbish, but now when it came to her mind she wondered if she had been right. The seventh question of the quiz haunted her in particular: 'Do you turn away when a friend is in trouble?'. They had all laughed, confident that if their teamwork at the Department of Mysteries had done nothing else, it proved that they stuck by their friends. No one had been prepared to let Harry go by himself, so they all vowed to go with him. Herd mentality Luna thought to herself, uncharacteristically cynical. None of us wanted him to go alone, but we didn't want to be left alone, either. That had nothing to do with friendship - it was an automatic response, fueled by fear. We should have known that. If it was just me, would I have gone with him? If it was just Harry and myself? I don't even know. I sure wasn't much help to Tonks and Hermione. I should have done SOMETHING!

Ron was the only other person in the room, Ginny having left to go upstairs to be alone for a while. He stood in a far corner of the room, apart from Luna and Neville. Feeling awkward, he didn't even know what he wanted - whether to be left alone with his anxious thoughts, or to be surrounded by his friends. So in indecision he stood off by himself, hardly noticing the rest of the room.

When had he ever been so scared before in his life? Probably when Ginny had been taken down into the Chamber of Secrets more than three years ago. Excluding that, nearly all of his other episodes of fear and worry were related to either exams, quidditch or some 'adventure' with Harry and Hermione . . .

Ron's stomach clenched as he thought of Hermione, and he forced himself to think of something else. Anything else. His mind came to rest on the memory of the time last year when his father was attacked while on guard outside the Department of Mysteries. That was bloody nerve-wracking as well. That was his father for Merlin's sake. And this is Hermione . . .

Hermione.

Taking a deep breath, Ron brushed his hair with his fingers anxiously. No matter what he did, all he could think about was Hermione; how after all these years he was finally able to show her exactly how he felt about her, and then she got snatched away from him. Pools of tears began to well up in his eyes but Ron blinked them away, stubbornly determined to keep his mind clear. He was struck with an overwhelming wave of despair and a voice in his head screamed out Hermione! Where are you? I need you! Ron felt like flailing his arms around in the air and screaming at the top of his lungs; the stagnant atmosphere in the house was doing nothing at all to ease his mind. How could everyone sit and look so calm when everything was not alright?

Interrupting his inner monologue was the sound of people in the hallway. Ron had heard the door open but hadn't really paid any attention to it, more focused instead on his own misery. He walked across the room towards the doorway just in time to see Dumbledore and Harry appear out of thin air as they cast off their invisibility cloaks. Lupin was there to greet them, and took Hedwig's cage from Harry's grasp.

Ron brushed through the doorway to see his friend. 'Hey mate,' he greeted him in a raspy voice.

'Good to see you, Ron,' Harry responded, truly relieved to find his friend looking well. Considering the circumstances, the strained look on his best friend's face was easily overlooked.

'Good day, Mr Weasley.'

'Oh, hello Professor Dumbledore, sir.' Ron felt downtrodden and was really not in the mood to make small talk, especially not with the Headmaster. He shifted his stance and looked at Harry pointedly, who gave him a questioning look in response.

Dumbledore broke up the awkwardness. 'Well then, thank you Remus. I think I will go in and let Mr Longbottom and Ms Lovegood know that Harry has arrived here safely. I dare say he and Mr Weasley would like to speak privately.' He looked from Ron to Harry, eyebrows raised in question, and received affirmative replies.

So leaving Hedwig with Lupin and dragging his trunk up over the stairs, he followed Ron to their room.

'So,' said Harry uncertainly as he pulled the bedroom door closed behind them, watching Ron sit gingerly on his bed, placing his face in his hands.

'Harry, if only you'd been here, mate,' Ron began quietly. 'I mean, it was okay once we knew everyone was safe. It's great having Neville around, he's changed a lot I think, and Luna's alright, too. But I missed my best friend.' He paused and looked at Harry with red-tinged eyes. Harry sat on the freshly-made bed next to Ron's, waiting for his friend to continue.

'You wouldn't believe it, mate; Fred and George showed up to meet with Dad and you'll never guess what they brought!'

Harry waited expectantly for the answer, confused and concerned about the shift of topic.

'Firewhisky! A full bottle of Ogden's. Said it was a gift and that I should share it. Obviously you were the first person I thought of, Harry, because I know you've wanted to try that stuff for ages. I was kind of stuck. In the end I was going to drink it by myself, but then Hermione . . .' Ron trailed off for a moment, but then determinedly went on with his story. 'I would never have thought Hermione would drink anything stronger than Butterbeer! But she said she had Ogden's before at the pub with her parents. Anyway, we were in the lounge and it was really fun, and we got smashed, mate, smashed! Then . . .' Ron shook his head as if in a daze. 'I don't know how it happened. Really, I don't. One minute we were just carrying on, then the next *poof* the candle burns out.' Ron looked at Harry for understanding. 'Well, we - erm . . .'

Harry finally grinned. 'You snogged Hermione!'

Ron feigned a mildly scandalized face. 'Yeah, well we kissed a bit, yeah.' His face flushed and he tried to stop grinning like a fool. 'Yeah, we snogged.' He beamed triumphantly. 'It was . . . I don't know. Wow. Hermione.' His face fell a bit, then he raised his eyes up to meet Harry's again. 'So now what, mate? Now she's gone - I don't know if I'll ever see her again.'

The words dug like barbs in Harry's heart. Although he didn't have any romantic attachment to Hermione, she was one of his very best friends, and to hear Ron speak so dejectedly was more than unsettling. 'They'll find her, Ron. Dumbledore will.' He said the words but he wasn't quite sure he believed them himself. 'The Order probably knows loads more about what Voldemort's doing than they're letting on. She'll be back soon.'

Ron narrowed his eyes bitterly. 'Do you really believe that?' Harry didn't reply. 'It's not that I blame you for saying that, Harry. It's what we all want to hear. But they're not even sure if it's You-Know-Who. Doesn't fit the pattern. One single attack in a public place. No Dementors. Not even obvious Death Eaters, no matter who they suspect. I know that's what they're all thinking about even if they won't say it. I could figure that much out for myself. Really do Hermione proud on that one, huh?' Shaking his head bitterly, he addressed the carpet, 'It's not . . . It's not them. There's something else happening. Somebody else has Hermione and we've got to find her!' He lifted his head and straightened his back defiantly. 'I love her, Harry. I always have. And now right when I find out that she has feelings for me, too, she gets kidnaped before I can even tell her how I feel about her!'

Harry carefully chose his words and spoke quietly. "Ron, I'm pretty sure she already knows.'

'Why would you say that?'

'Well. She might have mentioned it to me once before.' He saw the incredulous look on Ron's face and finished his thought quickly. 'She swore me to secrecy, mate! She specifically asked me not to mention it to you!'

'When was this?'

'Erm. One time last year while you were out stopping Quaffles.'

'You mean not-stopping Quaffles, don't you?'

'Well, you're a much better Keeper now than you were at first,' Harry pointed out diplomatically.

'Anyhow!'

'Anyhow, we were working on a Charms assignment, I thin, and she just kind of blurted it out all of a sudden. You know how she is like that.'

Ron sighed. 'Yeah.'

'She said something like "I think I'm in love with Ron, that great stupid prat. I wish that blockhead could figure that out himself. And I think he loves me, too."'

'Harry, you made that up.'

'Well, you're right - I don't think those were her exact words. But that was the general idea. She asked a lot of dumb questions. Well, dumb for Hermione.'

'What did you tell her?!'

'I said you were a stupid prat, but she knew that already. Oh, and that you fantasize about her every day since you met on the train. Get a grip, Ron. I told her I didn't know a thing and that you hadn't mentioned anything to me about being madly in love with her from day one.'

''Priciate that, mate.'

'Anytime. Anyhow, she kept trying to talk to herself about it. I didn't try to figure that out. Said something about maybe she should kiss you or something like that-' Harry's eyes shone mischievously and Ron's face lit up with dawning comprehension.

'The quidditch match . . .' he whispered.

'I guess so, yeah. By the time she mentioned that she had herself all worked up and she tried to run off to the library.'

'Good ol Hermione. What did you do then?'

'Stopped her, of course! Without her, I'd have never have finished that essay for Flitwick!'

Harry laughed for a moment as Ron chucked a pillow at his head. 'Lying prat!'

'Not a chance!'

Ron shook his head ruefully. 'All this time. I had no idea.'

'Yes you did, Ron. You both knew; you just couldn't admit it to yourselves.'

They heard a sound outside the door and they both fell silent to listen. Unable to discern the sound, Harry stood up and inched open the door to find Crookshanks scratching his claws on the doorframe. Mewing plaintively, he squeezed his fat body through the opening in the door.

Ron stared at the cat in a mixture of loathing and affection. He didn't really hate the animal, but he found it hard knowing that it was only coming to him because Hermione wasn't there. Almost ready to shoo the cat out the door again, Ron was surprised when Crookshanks leapt up onto the bed with his bandy legs and curled into a fat ball of fur in Ron's lap. Harry noticed Ron's expression soften.

'I think I'll go say hi to Neville and Luna, okay Ron?'

'Yeah, okay. Hey Harry!' Harry turned back towards his friend before stepping out the door. 'I'm really glad you're back.'

Time was meaningless for Hermione as she lay alone in captivity. While she felt less uneasy after her meal, it did have the effect of making her somewhat vague and drowsy. Perhaps the lack of stimulation within the room contributed to her idle mind, but whatever the reason she found it difficult to keep her eyes from closing periodically. Without a clock or noises or any other points of reference, she was quickly losing any notion of how long she had been in the room, at least in terms of how long she had been awake.

She desperately watched the candle by the door, comforted by its glow. Soon, however, Hermione realized that she couldn't even gauge the passage of time against the burning of the candle. It must have been charmed to not burn down, she surmised. As far as she was concerned, this room was temporally no different from a black hole.

What would it take to be allowed to at least walk around the room, she wondered. The longing to move was so great because she could not get up on her own will. Everything culminated in her mind, bringing back that feeling of unease. There was nothing specifically terrifying about her environment, but the disorientation and lack of freedom made her nervous, if not frightened. But, perhaps unfortunately, that feeling did not last for long.

The door swung open again, forcefully yet smoothly, and Hermione gaped in disbelief at her captor.

Arms swinging jauntily and freely and wearing the pleased smirk of a smug cat came Draco Malfoy. Hermione choked on her words.

'Hullo, love; I trust you slept well.'

'What are you doing here, Malfoy?' Hermione spat in disgust, nearly forgetting her predicament.

'Mind that temper, Granger,' he replied with a sneer. 'Don't want to anger the management, do we?'

She bit her lip to keep from screaming at his unreadable face. It wouldn't do her any good to give him a reason to punish her. As if being bound-up and locked up in this room wasn't bad enough. Malfoy watched her face intently as she processed this information, amused to see the great genius Granger trying to know-it-all herself out of this fix.

Taking a calming breath, she mock-politely inquired 'Why am I here? Where is here, and where is Tonks?'

'See? I knew you could be pleasant if you tried,' he flashed her what he probably considered his most charming smile, but they both knew it was just for show. 'First of all, Granger, I have no intentions of telling you why you are here, nor where we are. But in regards to that revoltingly tacky friend of yours, she is no more. So sorry.'

'Liar!' she hissed with vehemence; she wouldn't believe that Tonks was dead. 'Where is she? Is she locked up somewhere here, too?'

'If I said she's dead, she's dead,' Malfoy replied, sickly-sweet. 'There's an old tradition held by our community of family and friends. We call it 'Kill the Spare'.'

Hermione's stomach lurched involuntarily when she heard the words. Kill the spare. She remembered Harry saying over a year ago that was what Voldemort said to Wormtail before Cedric was killed. She shut her eyes tightly and unsuccessfully tried to fight back tears. She didn't see Malfoy delight in the vision of her crying at his news.

She looked right at him, her eyes red and watery. 'What do you want with me? Why did you kidnap me and bring me to your mansion?'

'Nice try, Mudblood. Do you think I'd let you tarnish the purity of Malfoy Manor? My father may be in Azkaban, but there's enough pureblood pride in my veins to keep you from defiling our family home with your filthy heritage. You wouldn't be so lucky as to see Malfoy Manor, you can bet your life on that.'

It was a good try, in her opinion. Even though she didn't find out where she was being held, she could at least eliminate one possibility. That was, of course, if Malfoy wasn't lying to her. 'Could I at least get up and walk around a bit?'

'I don't know. Can you?'

'Well, no. I mean, I'm bound to the chair; I can't move.'

'Too bad, then. I guess you can't.' Malfoy gave her a falsely cheery wave, turned onhis heel and exited the room, leaving Hermione frustrated and alone once more.