Chapter
Two

It had only been hours since Hermione arrived at the
Burrow, and now she was on her first official Order of the Phoenix mission:
getting Harry to the Burrow.

Number four, Privet Drive looked how Hermione imagined it
would be. The house itself seemed to reflect the terrible people who had once
called it home: boring, intolerant, and a bit frightening. Mute colors were
painted on the outside. All the plants were in strict rows that never touched.
There was not a single patch of brown on the lawn. And on one of the upstairs
windows were bars.

Fury sparked in Hermione as she thought of how cruelly her
best friend’s family had taken care of him. How could they not have shown him
an ounce of love? Had he not suffered enough by losing his parents? Hermione
was thankful Harry’s family had already left. If she had ran into them, she
might not have been able to hold back. She could not blame Hagrid for what
Harry told her he had done to his cousin, Dudley.

Ron gave her hand a reassuring squeeze before they
followed Professor Moody to the door. He had been surprisingly calm about the
whole ordeal, only speaking when asked a direct question or to calm Hermione’s
nerves on the way to Harry’s. All sarcasm seemed to have fled from the six foot
tall wizard. Hermione was somewhat glad to see a mature side of Ron, but knew
it was due to the war, forcing everyone to grow up quickly.

Mad-Eye opened the dull looking door and Harry was there,
greeting them with a smile. He had his black hair wildly strewn all over his
head and his Hogwarts trunk at his feet, looking ready to flee the house that
caused his childhood so many traumas. He looked surprised to see his company
though.

Hermione didn’t care in that moment what or why Harry was
confused about, as he was quite often in a state of puzzlement. She threw her
arms around him, thankful once again that he was safe. Not that she doubted he
wouldn’t defeat Voldemort. She had been standing beside him throughout years of
adventure and danger, and knew exactly what her best friend was capable of. With
or without that prophecy, Hermione had always been sure of it.

Ron gave Harry a manly clap on the back. As they grouped
in his living room, Harry greeted the others as well: Mad-Eye; Hagrid; Bill and
Fluer; Mr. Weasley; Tonks and Lupin (and congratulated them on getting married);
Fred and George; Mundungus Fletcher; and Kingsley Shacklebolt.

“Well no need to look so surprised Mr. Potter. You ready?”
said Mad-Eye, gruffly. His magical eye was zooming all around in its socket. It
unsettled Hermione greatly. She always felt there was something lurking when
his eye did that.

“Yes, definitely. But why all the others?” Harry replied
pointing to the group of magical people piled in the Dursley’s living room.

The friendly chattering between everyone stopped. Hermione
knew he wasn’t going to agree to the plan and had told Mad-Eye at the meeting
earlier.

“You're underage in the Wizarding World, Harry. As it is, you’re
still under the Tracer,” began Lupin, “They are a few confirmed Death Eater’s
in the Ministry, and with a quick disapparting or Floo transporting your
whereabouts would be known to Voldemort.”

Hermione noticed a few around the room squirmed in
discomfort of the name. Fluer even went as far as flinching. She, Harry, and
Ron however remained neutral to the name. They had heard and said it enough
times that the name had become just that, a name.

However, Lupin’s explanation wasn’t enough for Harry. Well, she thought, better do it before he knows what’s going on.

“That still doesn’t explain why they—“ Harry stopped
mid-sentence and exclaimed a choice word as Hermione did her part of stage one.
Her fingers yanked at a patch of his thick, wild hair, and withdrew with a few
strands. 

“Oh Merlin, that better not be what I think that is.”
Harry warned as he watched Hermione drop his hair into a potion vial Mad-Eye
had produced from within his worn robes.

“I told you.” Hermione said, returning to standing next to
Ron.

“I’m sure you know what this is, Mr. Potter.” Said
Mad-Eye, swirling the bits of jet black hair in the mixture. “Everyone is of
age-“

“I don’t care.” Harry replied indignantly. “That’s not
going to happen. I’m not letting you stick your necks out for me. I would love
to thank you all for risking so much but honestly I won’t allow it.”

“Harry,” Hermione scolded, “We’re all of age. We agreed to
do this for you. You really can’t to anything to stop it and there isn’t any
other way to get out without letting Voldemort know.” She then turned to Ron
for more support in the matter.

As rehearsed, Ron told him, “Hermione’s right mate, it’s
either this or staying. And you know Mom would kill you if you didn’t come to
the Burrow for the wedding. She’d be bloody livid.”

Fred and George also contributed their encouragement, “Do
you think we really want to look like you-

“-for a whole hour or more? Short and-“

“Terrible looks in all? But we’re going to because
Ronnykins is right-“

“-Mom would be livid.”

Harry sighed in defeat, “Drink up guys.”

Mad-Eye gave the potion to Fred and then George went next,
then Fluer. Mundungus took a swig, his mouth twisting from the unpleasant
taste, before passing it to Ron. Down the
hatch, Hermione thought as she took the last swallow of the Polyjuice
Potion, a small glimmer of fear of transforming into a cat returning.

She then watched in amusement as Ron shrunk beside her.
The burning all over was almost unbearable and she thought she was going to me
sick. Her head was itching from her hair retracting. Her eyesight went and she
was surprised at how terrible Harry’s eyesight really was. Finally the changing
stopped. She couldn’t see that well now, but she knew that the room was now
filled with seven Harry Potters. The first thing Hermione was going to do was
put on glasses.

The twins broke out in exclamation, “Hey! We’re identical.”
*

Everyone chuckled at the joke, but the tension was still
thick in the air. Ron, at least Hermione was sure it was Ron, lead her to the
pile of clothes.

“I’ll shield you while you change,” he offered.

She giggled, “Ron it’s Harry’s body not mine.”

“Oh, right.” He mutter, ear tips turning pink, then adding
when he lifted his shirt, “Ginny lied. There is no tattoo.”

Fluer, Hermione noticed, seemed not to like her new image.
She was grimacing at Harry’s nails before trying to sooth Harry’s cursed
untamed locks, and even went as far as ordering Bill not to look at her because
she was hideous. Hermione hoped Harry wouldn’t take that to heart if he heard.

They all changed quickly, knowing time was not on their
side tonight. Hermione and the others then took fake luggage from another sack that
was complete with a owl cage holding a faux snowy owl and they were ready.

Just as quickly they went of in pairs. Bill was taking
Fluer on a threstral. Mundungus with Mad-eye on brooms, Ron with Tonks also
taking flight aboard broomsticks. Fred was to go with his father also on brooms
along with George with Lupin. Harry was with Hagrid in the flying motorcycle,
and Hermione with Kingsley on a threstral since she was not fond of brooms.

Hermione shot Ron a quick look of reassurance. He did not
look comfortable with his arms around Tonk’s waist.

“Okay people, show time. You all know which houses you are
to go to. And whatever you do, do not be heroic and turn around to help.”
Mad-Eye bellowed, “One. Two. Three.”

The group shot off into the sky. Hermione prayed that
everyone would come back to the Burrow safe.

The air was chilly. The sky was a dark void save for a few
twinkling stars shining their light. They had been in the air but a few moments
when Hermione noticed they were not alone.

The follower’s silver masks seemed to shine brighter than
the stars. Hermione counted them. One, two, three, four, five.

Five Death Eaters were following them.

“Kingsley!” she cried, raising her wand for battle. “Death
Eaters!”

“Hold on as best you can Ms. Granger,” The skilled Auror
told her, ‘Things are about to get a bit bumpy.” She clutched onto his side with her free had.

As soon as he said that, two of the five came up and flew
along either side of them, their wands raised as well, green flashes of light
erupting from them. Kingsley steered the death horse to and fro to escape the
blows. The dives and side lunges made it hard to aim as Hermione sent defensive
spells in their directions.

“Protego!” she
screamed when a spell nearly hit Kingsley.

The spell bounced
off Hermione’s shield. She then fired a Confundus
charm at the sender. It hit the flying assassin in the shoulder. Suddenly he
decided to jump off his broom. Hermione cringed at what she had just done but
quickly regained her focus. The other Death Eater’s had decided to join. One
was behind, and the other’s on either side, boxing the two in.

The threstral neighed in panic, rearing in the air.
Hermione gasped, her hand had lost it’s grip on Kingsley. She searched for
anything to hang on to and she slid to the back of the horse. She managed to
grasp onto the saddle, but couldn’t pull herself up.

“Hermione! Are you alright?” Kingsley asked, diving the
horse again.

“Yeah,” she screamed, before trying to fire another spell.
She missed by a foot. This was not good. She tried again and hit the man in the
leg. The ripping sound of serving charm was not pleasing although it did
relieve her that the Death Eater had stopped sending curses their way. “Three
to go!” she shouted upward.

“Reach for my hand,” she heard Kingsley yell above the
explosion of the duel.  She moved her
head slightly to see him turned around to pull her up.

She reached with her wand hand, leaving them both
undefended. It took several tries for her to hold on to him, as her hands were
slick from fear. As soon as she did, the Auror pulled her up again.

Although the enemy’s numbers had lessened, there was a new
problem. Pushing her glasses back, Hermione gasped again, her heart dropping to
a new low in her stomach.

“It’s…It’s him. It’s Voldemort!” cried Hermione.

He was petrifying. His skin was pale as the moon looming
above. It glowed with the light from the spells flying in every which
direction. Much to her astonishment… he wasn’t using anything to fly with. Not
a broom or a threstral or some other magically influenced object. He was like
smoke and skin… a monster of human origins.

With foolish aggravation, she screamed out Expelliarmus.

The spell was deflected as if it were flying buzzing
nuisancely in his face… a face that resembled more of a snake than a human,
Hermione noted with a shiver.

She sent Confringo
at his way next, but he shifted and it striked his follower instead sending him
down as well.

And them just as fast as he had appeared, Voldemort
vanished. His Death Eater’s left too, veering to the left in a hurry.

Several minutes passed by, but Hermione and Kingsley both
waited for their enemy to return.

“Do you think it’s safe now?” Hermione questioned after
five more minutes. The wind was picking up a bit more as they were closing in
on their destination.

“I believe so Hermione. That was some amazing spell work
her did there.” He complimented. “Saved me a time or two there. And your Protego was the one of the strongest
I’ve ever seen. You’ve got a knack for protective spells I believe.”

“Thank you.” Said Hermione, “and thank you for pulling me
up when I fell.”

“If you live through this war, I wouldn’t mind seeing you
on the force.” He added as they landed.

Before Hermione could respond with a polite decline, she
was over spoken by a old witch. “Finally you arrive. I thought I was going to
have to wait for another century to pass by. Must have been because of the Muggle-born.”
Hermione looked down to see an old witch with tuffy grayed hair and a beak like
sort of nose. She grimaced at the name calling, but was glad she wasn’t
referred to as something much worse. Like mudblood.

“We’re terribly 
sorry to inconvenience you, Ms. Muriel, at a late hour as this.”
Kingsley apologized, sliding of the threstral.

He stuck out his hand to help Hermione off. She took it
and slid of as well, glad to be off the horse. She legs were stiff from the
ride, but from the gaze she was receiving from Ron’s great aunt, she decided
not to bend and stretch out.

The elderly witch lead them inside her home. It was ten
times as nice as the Burrow. Hermione couldn’t help but feel a little mad at
the old woman. Didn’t she care about her family? Why didn’t she try to help
them a bit? Obviously she was apart of some old pure blood money, right?
Hermione felt as though Ron’s great aunt had stolen a much better life from
him. She almost wanted to hex the witch as she continued to complain about the
time and the weather and Hermione’s status.

“-can’t believe my great nephew for befriending that-“ and
“-Merlin, that set of ankles could snap from the weight of her hair-“ was just a
few insults Hermione caught.

Thankfully, they reached the room holding the portkey
before actually did do something to Aunt Muriel.

‘It’s an old wire hanger,” the witch said before departing
to bed.

Hermione and Kingsley found in on a large wooden table in
the center of the room. They both grabbed hold as it started to glow blue.

“Let’s see how the other’s fared.’ Kingsley said, with a
hopeful but worried tone.

Hermione squeezed her eyes tight and prayed that Ron had
made it safely home.