Chapter 53

Disclaimer: Not mine. I just borrowed them for a while. I promise to put them back when I'm done. Also, no money made either...just for fun. Keep in mind, most of the actual events in DH happen as they happened in the book unless I have indicated they happened differently or at a slightly different time. I am, however, adding to the drawn out camping stretches a bit, and some interactions that didn't happen in the book. My creative license says I can do that.

I want to give a great big thank you hug to my alpha reader, Arabellabloodgood, Proulxes for the bit of Brit-picking, and to DuchessOfArcadia for combing through this and helping me clean up my many mistakes. I really appreciate it more than you can possibly know.

Thank you, Jay, for the beautiful banner. I absolutely love it!

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Since Hermione was hoping that the Tawny owl would return, she had Apparated them to the Pashley Manor Gardens and found a spot south of the gardens in a copse of trees to make camp that was fairly secluded. Harry hadn't been too sure about being this close to the previous campsite, but Hermione argued that until he learned how to Apparate with all three of them, he'd have to trust her. And she was getting tired of Apparating every few days to another location, especially long distance Apparition with all three of them. So he relented for now. But now he wanted Apparition lessons. The tricky part had been to locate magical places to Apparate from, and they only had about maybe ten small doses of the Polyjuice Potion left.

"Hermione, you can't trace someone when they Apparate; Remus told us that, remember? Besides, how hard can it be?" Harry asked. "I took Dumbledore on Side-Along Apparition when we returned from the seaside cave, and you did it first time you tried to, right?"

"Harry, don't be so thick. If someone is Apparating over and over in the same place it will be noticed, and if any of us Splinch, it's not as if we can go to St. Mungo's to be sorted out nor do we want the Ministry's Accidental Magical Reversal Squad to find us, do we?" Hermione asked, but he gave her that stubborn I'm-going-to-do-this-anyway look.

"If you can do it, Harry can," Ron stated, trying to be helpful.

Hermione glared at him for a second, then turned to Harry. "If you recall, I Splinched you, Ron," she said, indicating him with her hand, and Ron flinched, his ears turning red. "I did it out of desperation the first time, and I was lucky! I've been going to places I've been, so I can see them clearly in my mind, exactly where I want to be. That way I can concentrate on the determination and deliberation because the destination is firmly set in my mind."

"I can do that," Harry stated firmly.

No matter what she said, he stubbornly wanted to learn it, as did Ron, so she relented in the end. "Fine, but I suggest you try taking only one of us at first, then you can try taking both of us." Which meant choosing destinations she and Harry had been to or knew of well enough so they could both visualize them. "Right, so... we have to pick a place you can see, so we both go to the same place...and we have to keep moving to different locations, the farther away the better...and randomly. We don't want to make any kind of predictable pattern," Hermione reasoned.

"Well," Harry drawled out slowly as he looked around. "We can jump to that hill."

She turned to look at where he pointed. It looked to be reasonable enough. And from on top of the hill they'd be able to pick a place more easily for their next jump. Someplace significantly distant.

"Hermione, it's not as if we haven't Apparated before...Harry should be able to do it," Ron said, rolling his eyes.

"It's a good thing, because he's taking you with him," she snapped. "And so far you've Splinched yourself twice. Side-Along Apparition is much harder because you have to be especially determined on your destination to take another person with you, and your deliberation cannot waver...it's why I Splinched you, Ron; I was insufficiently determined, and even though I was deliberate in where I wanted to be, I lost my concentration." She turned back to Harry and looked him in the eyes. "Be absolutely determined that you can do it and focus your determination on your intended action, while clearly envisioning your destination, and say the incantation, without losing focus, while being absolutely deliberate to do it as you release your magic..."

"Too many 'D' words," Ron said. "Enough already, let him do it!"

Hermione turned sharply back to face him. "Don't be so cavalier about this, it's serious if you Splinch or Splinch one of us. Splinching is quite common if you're not suitably determined."

"Don't get your wand in a knot. I'll be sufficiently determined," Ron said, still trying to be funny.

"Oi! I think I have it," Harry said, forestalling their argument. "I think I'm ready, Hermione."

Still, Harry did very well taking her and Ron to the hill he'd pointed out and next to the stand of oaks he chose for his second location. Ron managed to take them to the road, but he tripped everyone on their arrival. However Ron's second time, Harry's eyebrow was sliced open. It wasn't really a bad Splinching, but Harry called it quits for the day. After stopping the bleeding and healing his cut with some Dittany and having him take some Blood-Replenishing Potion just in case, Hermione had Harry Apparate them back to the tent, and they all arrived safely. "I see what you mean about longer distances being more difficult," he admitted as she cleaned up his face.

"You did well," she said softly. "I think that with some practice, you could easily do it." She put down the flannel. "I've noticed that if you act on necessity or on impulse, you are able to do remarkable feats of magic, but when you have to concentrate to do something, you hesitate. Get over that, and I don't think there would be a spell you can't do."

Harry smiled up at her. "Thanks." He rose and walked to his room to lie down a bit.

The next day, Harry tried taking them to locations he had to visualize in his head. The first was a park he knew, but within minutes, Dementors swooped in, and Hermione had to Apparate them away since Ron wore the locket, and Harry had cast his Patronus to protect them.

His second attempt went much better. They arrived in the zoo where he'd been before, but Hermione insisted they leave immediately because they attracted far too much attention. His third try took them to Kingston Market, and Ron insisted they stop for lunch. Not that the historic market square wasn't a fun place to eat, but the Polyjuice transformation only lasted for fifty minutes before they had to quickly find a place to hide as it wore off. Harry and Ron then slipped under the cloak as she shopped, but she was constantly on alert for anyone suspicious and was quite glad when it was time to go.

On the third day, she began to wonder if the Tawny owl would come back. She made sandwiches and soup for dinner, but she'd refused to eat inside and took her sandwich outside to eat while keeping watch.

The next morning Harry insisted on moving. Hermione Apparated them to Halley Road not far from the Herstmonceux Castle in Hailsham, and they made camp in the trees between the castle and the Observatory Science Centre. While searching for edible fungi and wood for the stove, she stumbled upon a lovely pond covered in red lilies. A heron strode along the edge of the pond with his long, cruel beak, beady eyes and stately walk. She thought of Severus and their excursions when they had been teens and wondered what he'd have thought about the pond. She sat down and enjoyed the moment of solitude. He'd have asked me to name the use for each part of the water lily. She concentrated on what she knew about the plant from that perspective. An Arhizomatous aquatic herb. The vascular bundles in the stems and dried roots are used in potions for swollen limbs, digestive problems, uterine fibroids and menstrual cramps, and... a rinse for mouth sores. The flower buds and the seeds are edible and can be eaten fried or used in potions as well. The seeds are...

Her attention was broken by a bird flying overhead, and she thought of the Tawny owl, wondering if she'd found Hogwarts. I hope Severus is all right.

She sighed. Severus Snape was such an enigma. His teenage self was so different than the man she knew as her professor, so much more amiable and relaxed around her, and yet he really hadn't changed all that much. He was more acerbic as an adult, stern and strict, but there had been times when he'd let his guard down that he was like the boy she knew. But back then he hadn't killed Dumbledore. He hadn't joined the Death Eaters, then turned spy. He hadn't had to stand trial for his crimes against humanity...not just wizardkind...humanity! She remembered watching him once with his housemates...his friends. Now those friends were Death Eaters and probably more fanatic about Voldemort's ideals than Severus was...if he ever had been. That was something she'd wanted to ask her Professor but never dared...if he'd ever believed in what Voldemort stood for. But how could he have? We were friends, and he knew about my blood status.

Shrugging, she trudged back to the tent, dropped off the wood she'd gathered and went to her room. She smiled at the bit of green sleeve on the side of the painting as she sat on her cot. "Hello, Altheda. Being shy today?"

"Avoiding the boys," she replied, moving into view. "How are you, Hermione?"

"I'm all right, everything considered," Hermione replied. "How is Professor Snape? Is he all right? Have you seen my friend Ginny?"

"Severus is fine. He's busy, there is so much to do with all the changes, but he is well," Altheda said. "I don't see your friend much, except when she passes my frame. I don't speak with her at all."

"No, I suppose not," Hermione said sadly. "Altheda, how long have you known Professor Snape?"

"Since he was in his fourth...no, the second half of his third year," she replied. "I got tired of the four Gryffindor bullies always tormenting and attacking him, so I started to give him warnings when I could. We became friends in his fifth year, especially after that heinous trick Sirius Black pulled on him. I was delighted when he returned to teach, although he was not at all happy about the assignment."

"Why?" Hermione asked, curious.

"It was part of his probation, as I understood it. The condition of his receiving a pardon as Dumbledore's spy was to work under Dumbledore's employ, under his supervision," Altheda stated, not that Hermione hadn't learned about it from the articles in the Daily Prophet. "I was delighted that he chose to stay on, once his probation was over."

To protect Harry, Hermione assumed. "But what about his dorm mates, did you know them?"

"I knew of them," Altheda said. "I didn't speak to any of those boys."

"But you knew them. Was Severus even like them? I know he befriended them," Hermione said, then quickly added, "he must have," because she didn't want to explain how she knew them. I remember seeing a few of them, and they were not the type of boys I'd have wanted to be around. "They are Death Eaters now, the wizards he shared a dorm with, and probably more fanatic about You-Know-Who's ideals than Severus was. So, did his dorm mates hate Muggle-borns, even back then?"

"Yes, many of them opposed Muggle-borns," Altheda admitted. "What is bothering you, dear?"

What she really wanted to ask was, Why did he kill Dumbledore? "Normal people...smart people...don't kill other people. Most normal people are law-abiding good citizens and don't destroy other people's lives. They don't wake up one day and become zealots and do the atrocities that the Death Eaters are doing...all in You-Know-Who's name!"

"I'm sure at one point he did think like they did, but not for the reasons you think, it was more... complicated. Hermione, you have to realize, Muggles... prejudice." She looked to the side for a moment. "For centuries, we've been persecuted. Many of the old traditions were being challenged by witches and wizards who didn't grow up with our ways, our values. Back in my day, many of the Muggle-borns, and quite a few of the half-bloods, still retained the values and traditions of their Muggle families. The older magical families were afraid the old ways would vanish because of this. The Muggle-borns lacked the social manners, refined deportment or the understanding of the responsibilities and duties of a witch or wizard as it was taught in the magical households. Their lack of censure and responsibility caused many problems and strife. The Muggle-borns, many of them, still held ties to the Muggle world and used their magic to terrorize and dominate in order to gain power and control over Muggle clans and royal houses and to become the right hand of the rulers."

"Some usurpers and rulers used wizards and witches...calling them sorcerers...and used them to gain power, conquer more land, obtain more gold," Hermione pointed out. "Not unlike Merlin did...his dream interpretation for Julius Caesar and in his creation of Camelot."

"Yes, well...," Altheda said. "But there were many Muggle-borns who were not so discreet."

"And just as many power hungry pure-bloods," Hermione stated. "Greyfon the Sorcerer wasn't a Muggle-born, and he used his magic to dominate and control Brittany throughout the third century. Gwydion used his magic in the battle of Dyfed and the Battle of the Trees. Not to mention Mortanus Melgor, Ruairidh the Maul, Uilleam the Deceiver, Mairead the Malicious... I can name quite a few."

"I suppose you can," Altheda said, her tone becoming a bit cool. "But this was why Hogwarts was founded, to teach young people to respect magic, how to use it properly and most of all, not to abuse their power."

"So all Muggle-borns were power hungry irresponsible insurgents. That's like saying all Slytherins were dark, evil and prejudiced," Hermione argued.

"The problems escalated as Christianity began to spread. The Catholic Church grew stronger, spreading throughout Europe. These new Muggle-borns, born under the influence of Christianity, began to think of their magic abilities as a gift from God, but the pure-bloods, many of whom did not follow the new religion, still followed the old traditions," Altheda said. "To them, this Jesus Christ, God, the Holy Virgin Mother and the Spirit were merely reinventions of older deities, and even the holidays and celebrations fell on some of the existing days of celebration or sacred days. The Muggles branded the heathen pure-bloods as the children of the Devil. The Church, unable to control magic and those who had the ability, became frightened, so wizards and witches were condemned and persecution ensued...the witch-burnings of the so-called Dark Ages. You've heard that many witches and wizards managed to escape. There are spells they learned, which you are still taught today, that allowed them to survive. But many Squibs and untrained Muggle-borns and half-bloods did not. Many perished. It was a time of great pain in the magical community. Witches and wizards had to learn to hide their magic, to keep their abilities secret."

"Thus began the Statute of Secrecy and the segregation of our world," Hermione said solemnly.

"Yes, and many pure-bloods resent the suppression. It's hard to live constantly in the shadows," Altheda said, finally calming her tone.

"I think I understand, but Severus didn't think of Muggle-borns as usurpers or troublesome, did he?"

"He, like many, wanted to belong. He wanted to be a great wizard and strove to learn as much as he could while at school...much like yourself," Altheda stated, a small smile playing on her lips. "He didn't make friends easily, seldom allowed any to get close enough to trust them, but still wanted their acknowledgement and respect."

"And if the boys in his house gave him acknowledgement and respect, told him that under You-Know-Who he'd be a respected and valued member, receive his due recognition for his skills..."

"Now you are starting to understand," Altheda said. "The Dark Lord offers what those who follow him crave. He uses them, draws on their strengths, encourages them to stretch out and reach for more. Then as you begin to feel like you can achieve anything if you simply take what you want, do what you want to get it, you are rewarded, praised. If you succeed, even more so. Eventually the lines become blurry and you find yourself wanting more."

"And they become the ones with a lack of censure and responsibility, and they cause problems and strife and use their magic to terrorize and dominate in order to gain power and control over Muggles and royal houses and ultimately to strive to become the right hand of the rulers," Hermione said sadly.

"I suppose so," Altheda said with a lift of her chin. "I must go." She turned and walked out of her frame.

Well that answers some of my questions, Hermione thought as she fell back on her bed and hugged her pillow. But why did he leave You-Know-Who? A change of conscience? Did something happen that changed his mind? Why turn to Dumbledore, agree to be his spy, and then, sixteen years later, kill him? Dumbledore kept him out of Azkaban. Gave him a job. Trusted him. She recalled what she'd read in his bio in a Potions periodical. Severus left Hogwarts in 1978, and started teaching in 1981. He did an apprenticeship and obtained a Mastery in Potions in only two years.

But why did Dumbledore make Severus Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor if they knew that the post is cursed? Was it because Dumbledore's hand was cursed, because he knew that he didn't have long to live? I'm missing something here, some part of the puzzle. Unless...

She sat up. Dumbledore was dying! I remember Madam Pomfrey telling Mr. and Mrs. Weasley that the curse would have killed Dumbledore in a month or two anyway! McGonagall knew it, too! Severus must have known. Malfoy had been trying all year to kill Dumbledore...on You-Know-Who's orders. His task. But Malfoy couldn't do it. She listed the names of the Death Eaters on the tower that night. Bellatrix Lestrange, Fenrir Greyback the werewolf, Gibbon was named in the article in the Daily Prophet...Harry recognized him. The Carrows! Alecto and Amycus Carrow were there...the new teachers at Hogwarts! And Draco Malfoy... and Severus Snape.

She looked at the flap that separated her room from the rest of the tent. The only logical conclusion was that Dumbledore staged his own death. Dumbledore pleaded with Severus, to do what? Kill him. Severus was repulsed. But he didn't hate Dumbledore, he respected him. "You have to mean it to cast an Unforgivable," she murmured. He'd have to find enough hate to kill. He'd have to hate... She covered her mouth.

An image of a young Severus glaring at James Potter and Sirius Black flashed in her mind, the hate he'd felt showing in his dark eyes, was then replaced with a picture of her professor glaring hatefully at Sirius Black at Grimmauld Place. He'd have to find enough hate within him to kill.

"Oh, Severus," she exhaled remorsefully. "You did find it within yourself. You did what you had to do." She understood now.

---

She sat on the ground, leaning against a young tree, enjoying the silence when she heard a "kewick" loudly announcing the Tawny's arrival.

"There you are!" Hermione said, holding up her arm.

The owl swooped down, landing gently, and made another a long drawn out, "hooo."

"What a wonderful owl you are," Hermione said, taking the two letters from her.

The owl preened, then hopped up to her shoulder and nestled down a little, obviously tired after her flight.

Hermione recognized Ginny's seal imprint, so she opened the other one first, and her heart seemed to skip a beat. It's from Severus! She recognized his handwriting immediately. He wrote to me! Both of them wrote me! She gave the bird a corner of her bread and read his letter, at first saddened by his gruff tone. But then the letter became curious, asking about her well-being. She laughed. First he admonishes me for writing to him, then he shows his concern. That's so like him. He told her about the new the Office for the Detection and Confiscation of Stolen and Counterfeit Magical Object, and confirmed Ron's statements about the trace on Voldemort's name, then warned her to be cautious, constantly vigilant and to trust no one. She smiled. He still cares! Her heart soared at the thought.

She read Ginny's letter. Naturally, Ginny asked about Harry and then Ron, then started to tell her what changes had been made at Hogwarts. Stricter curfews...not surprising, Severus would be a firmer disciplinarian than Dumbledore had been. Everyone has to walk in a quiet and orderly manner between lessons, meals and to and from the dormitories...that is a bit extreme. Why had the library hours had been shortened? That doesn't make sense. And the DA was rebelling! Hermione's heart nearly stopped upon reading some of the things her friends were pulling on Professors Alecto Carrow and Amycus Carrow, but from what Ginny wrote about them the Carrrows sounded awful.

Hermione folded the letters and pulled out her beaded bag, scrounging around for paper, quill and ink. She wrote to Ginny first, telling her that they were all right, still on their mission against Voldemort and not to worry about them. She thought carefully and decided that a slight deception might be a good idea. We found a, she cast the Contrary-Inverse Charm, "Contrārius," wandlessly as she wrote, safe place to hole up. We have plenty of fresh water, and food isn't too hard to come by. Ron has been well and so, she mumbled, "Contrārius," again and wrote, pleasant when hungry. She smirked and continued, being very careful not to give anything away. She used the charm on each word she wanted reversed. At the end she wrote:

Tell everyone to keep the faith, be patient, and above all be careful. The Carrows sound awful but they might be Death Eaters, placed in the school by Voldemort. Be vigilant and don't antagonize Professor Snape or the Carrows too much. Say hello to everyone for us, and let your family know we are all right. Revertere, Ginny, I know you can, and you'll see I'm right.

Take care,

HGJ

She picked up a leaf and turned it into a ribbon to tie her parchment with and smiled at the variegated yellows and brown. She placed the letter aside and started one for Severus, starting it off with, My Slytherin, and ending it with: In the contrary, your little Gryffindor, I revert. She then cast the Contrary-Inverse Charm on the entire letter, smiling at the nonsense that appeared as each word showed its antonymous equivalent.

Hermione picked a particularly pretty leaf and changed it into a ribbon with her wand, then used it to tie her letter. She angled her head, looking at the sleepy owl on her shoulder and gently stroking its feathers.

She woke and made a soft, coarse, "hoo."

"Will you carry my letters to my friends again?" Hermione asked, then quickly added, "After you've rested...I don't mean right away. Why don't you sleep for a bit, and I'll save you a bit of bologna for when you're ready."

The owl made a hoarse, "huhuhuhooo" and flew up into the tree to roost.

Hermione picked up her plate and walked into the tent. She walked over to where Ron lounged in a comfortable chair. "Here, it's from Ginny," she said and held out Ginny's letter.

Harry jumped up as Ron grabbed the parchment and almost tore it open in his haste. "How'd you get this?" Harry asked as he leaned over Ron's shoulder.

"From an owl, of course," she replied on her way to the kitchen to clean her plate. "And don't worry, she wasn't traced. I'm sure of it."

Harry stood up and turned to face her. "Whose owl is it? How do you know you can trust it?"

"Because I know I can," she stated. "So, we move tomorrow. Any suggestions?" she asked, changing the subject.

Harry's mouth gaped open. "I, er, dunno." After a pause he said, "Wales."

"Wales, great. I'm going to take a kip," Ron said and went to the room he shared with Harry.

"Harry, I was thinking..." she paused, unsure. "Why not practice something. I've been reading up on Animagi transformation."

Harry looked intrigued so she continued, pulling out her purse again. She used a wandless Summoning Charm to pull out her Transfiguration notebook and composition book. "I copied down everything I could on the theory and the technique." They sat down at the table and she started going over her notes. They discussed the theory and the spell. "I think it's like Apparition; if you're properly determined enough, and envision your physical form changing, it should work. Determination, Deliberation and Envision or Acceptance..."

"But we don't know our forms," Harry pointed out.

"No one does the first time," she stated. "I tried asking Sirius about it once, one of the few companionable discussions we had." The only one, she thought sarcastically. "And he said it was like letting yourself go, letting your magic flow into the shape. The oddest and most natural feeling... I wrote down everything he said." She turned to the page in her journal and let him read it. "If Peter Pettigrew could do it, we can." She and Harry discussed it at length until Ron came out looking for dinner.

Hermione rose to prepare something, catching an odd look in Ron's eyes, almost a resentful glare. "Soup all right?" she asked him.

"More soup. Can't we have anything normal, like chicken and sprouts or a roast with potatoes or pasta with meat balls?" he grumbled.

"The next time I go shopping I'll see what I can do, but for now, it's soup and cheese sandwiches," she replied, not yet ready to risk shopping. It was hard to watch your back while selecting what to buy, tallying up how much things cost and planning out menus in her head. Hermione sighed. Mum always made it look so easy! She sighed heavily. But then she'd been able to go to the market whenever she needed anything, and I can't. I have to make do the best I can for as long as I can. It sucked being Undesirable number three and having a huge price on her head; whenever she went out she had to constantly worry about having to avoid being seen by anyone in the magical community. And the Dementors seemed to be everywhere, especially on rainy days.

That night she took watch as Ron and Harry cleaned up after dinner. The owl came down to accept her post. She had read somewhere that post owls could sometimes see or sense the places where you wanted them to go, simply by looking into a witch's or wizard's eyes...like a form of Legilimency. She wondered if it were true. She looked at the Tawny's large eyes, once again struck by the bluish-black irises, so similar to Severus' dark eyes. She envisioned the bridge she would be Apparating to in the morning. "Look for us somewhere near Llandeilo Bridge South Wales or fly north, along the River Towy, someplace near the Llyn Brianne."

The owl hooted as if understanding.

Maybe they could do some type of Legilimency. "I should name you," Hermione said as she gave the letters to the Tawny owl.

She made a long drawn out, "huh-huh-hooo-hooo."

"What about Shania? She was a singer my mum and I liked." Hermione said, and the Tawny looked away. "No? Okay. Seanna is pretty." The owl still averted her gaze. "You only like Tawnie."

The owl looked at her and made an abrupt hoot.

"But that's silly; it's like naming a cat, Cat. How about Tansy?" Hermione suggested, but she fluffed her feathers and turned her head again. "Tanya? Teaney?"

The owl stubbornly stared into the trees.

"That's a Tawny!" Ron said, startling Hermione slightly.

The owl hooted in agreement.

"Okay, Tawnie, it is then," Hermione said with a sigh, adding, "But I'd have picked Shania" as Tawnie flew away.

---

Severus entered his office and was surprised to see the Tawny owl perched on the back of his chair holding a letter tied with a ribbon of variegated yellows and brown. She made a long drawn out hoarse, "kewick."

"Hush, you silly bird," he said as he closed his door. "You could've been heard." He walked over as she preened happily. "Proud of yourself, aren't you?" He took the letter and gave the owl treats, then untied the ribbon. He unrolled the parchment and felt relieved when he saw her handwriting. He started in surprise at her use of, My Slytherin, to address him, and one side of his lips pulled back in the slightest smile. Her Slytherin, indeed. Not that there was any hope it meant what he thought, but for the briefest flashes, it was a pleasant thought.

He recalled the first time he'd called her his little Gryffindor during her third stay with him. No, that's not right, it was before that, when I wanted to practice a spell on her and she'd agreed too readily without even knowing what I wanted to do to her, silly girl. It hadn't really been an endearment at the time, but in his mind that was what she had become, his little Gryffindor.

He thought back to the first time she'd kissed him when he'd been sixteen. He had leaned down to hug her before sending her off to her own time, and he'd felt her velvety lips softly pressing against his...well the side of his mouth. She had muffled something in his chest...what he was certain had been 'I love you'...then told him she'd miss him. She'd cried, tears rolling down her cheeks, and even though he'd known he'd see her again, his heart had ached when she'd left. The following day...hell, for the rest of the school year, he felt bereft of her presence. And he'd been such an ass when she materialized in that room seventeen years later, carefully defining their relationship as solely teacher and student. He had been so absolutely certain that was all he wanted, when she'd been a true friend and would have remained so if he'd wanted one.

It seemed to have been a lifetime ago, and yet he could still remember how she'd felt in his arms. Twice when she'd had to leave him she'd kissed him. He smiled as he recalled the second time he'd had to send her back to her time. She had turned her head while they hugged and she'd kissed his cheek. He remembered the way her soft, curly hair tickled his nose, his eyes closing as he held her for that brief moment. It had been tender, not at all like his fierce grabbing of her in the corridor the last time they'd said goodbye.

My Slytherin,

Only the rest of her letter was utter gibberish.

I'm bad, well, bad inadequate. We stay around a little. Infrequently ceasing camp and leaving in nearby offices. You be real to cease the none that destroys none the indecisions...

The owl hooted again.

"And noisy," he admonished the bird, trying to decipher her coded message. He scanned down the letter hoping to make some sense of her writing.

Tawnie hasn't wavered to be your owl, it be real not you've doubtfully ungrateful to lose lost him. Dubiously, you disregard he lost you, but that's mending hairs. He isn't a dumb owl...

"So, your name is Tawnie, I gather," he stated and she made a subdued, "ha."

"Not an original name," he muttered. "I'd have named you Babble." He was about to set the letter aside to work on later when he saw that she ended it with:

Out the agree, my big Gryffindor, You keep the same.

My big...my little Gryffindor. You keep the same... I keep...I reverse! Brilliant girl, he thought smiling at her ingenuity. He picked up his wand, tapping the parchment while saying, "Retexere Incantatem," and watched the words all sort themselves out. He read her letter again.

She has been helping Potter learn to do Side-Along Apparition. He wondered if Darias' office had been noting the Apparation points, and hoped Hermione knew to space the locations wide enough to avoid being caught.

Bloody hell, woman, why try hiding in the zoo of all places? And Kingston Market...are you completely daft? You could have landed on someone! Lunch in Kingston Market? It had to have been Potter to try a stunt like that, but why Hermione allowed it was beyond him. He'd have to set her straight on that.

She described a pond with red lilies, and for a moment he scowled before realizing it was safe enough if she's already moved on to another location. Besides, the description doesn't really give away its location, only that it reminded her of me. Oddly. Possibly the time we were in the meadow...or the lake. He dismissed the thought, but scowled at the mention of a heron.

He'd been teased once in Transfiguration about his Animagus form being a heron because of his nose. He had grown tall by that year, nearly six foot, having shot up a good six inches or so over the summer holiday. But Hermione mentioned the heron's stately walk, which wasn't as bad as having one's nose compared to the bird's pointy beak or his gaze compared to its beady eyes.

As he'd deduced, her owl's name is Tawnie, and she told him of how she acquired the bird.

He finished the letter and folded it carefully, placing it in his drawer under his journal.

Tawnie jumped down from her perch on the curtain rod as if to peer into his drawer, and he closed it sharply. "Nothing in there will interest you. Go take a nap in the owlery, and I'll have a response after dinner.

She made a resonant, "huhuhuhooo," and flew away.

She is alive and safe. Taking far too many chances in her locations, but she's all right, he thought, returning to the paperwork that required his attention.

---

Hermione sat on a fallen tree with her left foot tucked under her right leg as she wrote a letter to Severus. It had seemed like ages since she'd heard from him, but it had only been two weeks. Harry's scar keeps bothering him, and he keeps having flashes of emotions and visions from Voldemort, she wrote.

Especially when Harry had on the locket, not that she added that in her letter. Additionally Hermione had observed that Harry seemed to sense the locket's presence even when he wasn't wearing it, although Harry's attitude didn't fluctuate as much as Ron's did from the locket's influence. She hated wearing the locket, it was horrible. It wasn't just the odd sensation of the locket pressing on her chest through her shirt, it never felt right. When either Harry or Ron handed it over to her, she knew they'd had it against their skin, but the locket would be ice cold when she'd put it on, not warm. And it would turn cold then warm, sometimes even hot while she wore it, and it seemed to hum. Not a vibration of sorts, but a constant thrum, and sometimes that thrumming pulsed, almost as if to match her heart beat. And the whispers; the continuous disconcerting, insidious suggestions and damning innuendoes echoing in her head and that horrible high-pitched, cold laugh that sent chills down her spine.

We camped on the River Towy for a few days, so that we could have fish with our mushrooms, she continued. We had an encounter with some other people yesterday, she wrote.

Namely two goblins, one Harry recognized, and Ted Tonks and Dean Thomas, she thought to herself. She remembered their comments. The goblins had left the bank because, how did he phrase it? Oh, yes, 'Duties ill-befitting the dignity of his race', which could be anything. But that Gringotts was not under the goblins' control could only mean one thing...Voldemort has control of the wizarding bank. A Horcrux could have been hidden there if that were true. Would Ginny know if Tom Riddle ever has had an account with the bank? Probably not.

We were not seen or heard. We left the next morning, she wrote down.

Phineas had told them that Ginny, Neville and Luna had tried to steal the Sword of Gryffindor from Severus' office. She wondered why Severus hadn't told her. She considered telling him that the one he had was a fake. When Phineas had told them Goblins' silver imbibes only that which strengthens it, she'd immediately thought of the basilisk Harry had killed with the sword. Turned out that was true. And if it is true, the sword itself could destroy the locket. Except that, according the Phineas, Dumbledore had used it to destroy the Horcrux in the ring and look at what that had done to him. Not that they had the sword. And neither does Severus, apparently. But the sword was the best possible means of destroying the locket. She'd do it...for Harry's sake. So how does one get the sword? Harry said it fell out of the Sorting Hat. Could I ask Severus for the hat?

Thank you for what you did for Ginny, Neville and Luna. I'm sorry they went after the sword. I hope you were able to put things to right. She wanted to ask if he still had the original or knew where it might be.

The fact that Dirk thought Harry had run off, gone into hiding to save his own arse, had irritated them, but better that belief than knowing the truth.

Ron is utterly impossible. No matter what I cook he complains, she wrote and kicked the leaves on the ground with the toe of her boot. And he still refuses to even try cooking anything...not that he could do any better, the spoiled git. He doesn't help clean up either. He sits around moping, complaining and being a toe-rag! Harry eats whatever I prepare, even the stewed mushrooms, gracefully, but Ron simply pushes it away and tells me that his mum could do better.

Of course she does better...she has a whole bloody kitchen, herb garden and a fully stocked pantry to work with. I can't even go get groceries without Harry's bloody permission! she thought ruefully. No that isn't fair, he simply doesn't want me going too often, not that she blamed him. It was risky and she could get caught one of these times.

She really shouldn't have been so angry with Ron over the remark he'd made on her cooking...again. He had been wearing the locket. But even that was not an excuse anymore in her opinion. However, Ron seemed most affected by the locket's influence...whenever he had it on he was absolutely horrible.

Okay, I admit, my first attempt at cooking a pike fish had been deplorable, but then I've never tried cooking pike before. I've only ever had it at other people's houses or at restaurants, she wrote Severus. And since then, her preparation of the fish hadn't really improved any. She simply had no idea how to prepare it and neither did Harry. Not that he'd allowed me to go to the library to find out how. No, we have to be careful of Dementors and Death Eaters, she wrote. She kicked at the thick layer of leaves on the ground around her again.

Harry found some fishing gear when he'd gone shopping for food, with my money...and without asking me if he could, and Ron, who'd apparently gone fishing many times with his brothers, had told Harry how easy it was, she wrote.

They had moved four times since last time she'd sent him a letter; Hermione and Ron had picked places where he and Harry could fish. They moved from the bare, silent moorlands of Llyn Aled to the secluded spots along the River Wye, to the River Dee and the River Teifi so that her friends could fish. And they'd caught plenty of fish. At least trout and salmon were easier to cook. She knew they wanted to go to Bala Lake and Llangorse Lake next so they could keep fishing.

Oh, and apparently Ron has never cleaned a fish before, shockingly enough. He expected me to do it. That sounded like sour-grapes, but she decided to leave it in Severus' letter. It might amuse him.

But Ron's constant bickering about her cooking, his scrunched faces and snide remarks even when he wasn't wearing the locket, had grated on her nerves. Moreover, Mrs. Weasley cannot produce food out of thin air...no one can! It's bloody impossible and he should know that! The Five Principle Exceptions to Gamp's Laws of Elemental Transfiguration had been on four of Professor McGonagall's quizzes last year and it had been on our final exam! How could he not know them?

She wanted chocolate.

I admit I crave chocolate.

Anything chocolate!

Even chocolate covered cockroaches sound good right now, not that I'd ever brought myself to try one. They sound disgusting. I prefer the Malt Balls and Flossing Mints... but for now Muggle sweets will have to suffice when I can get them.

Should I tell him about the fight? she thought. It had been horrible.

She looked up at the depressingly grey sky and thought about the fight between Harry and Ron. She'd had to erect a magical barrier between them to keep them from drawing their wands on each other. The things Ron said, the accusations Ron had shouted at Harry still reverberated in her mind, especially when it was her turn to wear the locket. It seemed to feed on her sense of loss, her guilt that she hadn't been more understanding, more supportive of Ron's feelings. It had been right, she hadn't been a friend to him, only self-absorbed in her own thoughts, her own misery and her own needs. She just didn't voice them as much as Ron had. She kept her distressing, self-deprecating thoughts to herself and did the best with what they had and provided as best she could. She had to be frugal with her money. They were on the run. They were wanted criminals, according to the magical world, with a huge price on their heads. And no she couldn't cook as well as Mrs. Weasley could; her parents didn't prepare meals like Ron was used to, and she didn't have the resources to make the piles of food Ron felt he needed to have. They had to economize and make things stretch.

Hermione sighed heavily and forced the guilt away. She was doing the best she could, doing everything she could to keep them alive and together and to keep Harry and Ron from fighting. She just wished Ron would try harder.

Ron had almost walked out on them, but once Harry demanded he remove the locket, Ron had seemed to calm down. Well, enough for Hermione to talk to him. But that evening, when she'd been talking things over with Harry while Ron napped before his watch, Ron had gotten mad at them again...at her, accusing them of conspiring behind his back. They'd only been talking quietly out of courtesy to let him sleep, the ungrateful git.

It was true that they now had to find the sword. If Dumbledore knew that it could destroy Horcruxes, he'd have left it in a safe place for them to find. 'Find' being the problematic word. Hermione was certain that either Dumbledore had left a clue on where to find it in the book he'd bequeathed her or that Severus would know where the real sword was. If we can't find the sword, then what? The book, Secrets of the Darkest Art, she'd summoned from the Headmaster's tower before Dumbledore's funeral gave explicit instructions on how to make one, but was rather vague on how to destroy it...it only listed two possibilities, both impossible for her to use. Blimey, we don't know much do we?

She decided to think about something else. She finished the letter and signed it, Sincerely, your little Gryffindor, I revert.

Tapping her letter she said, "Contrārius," softly and tied it with the strip of red ribbon he'd carefully rolled up in his last letter.

A long drawn out, "hooo," came from the tree above her.

"Yes, it's ready," she replied, and Tawnie landed on the tree in front of her to accept the letter. She put the Notice-Me-Not spell on her and Disillusioned her owl, receiving an abrupt and subdued, "ha," in return.

"Fly safe and be careful," she told the bird.

Tawnie made a wailing, "hooo," as she flapped her wings, indicated by the soft swoosh and the air disturbance ghosting across Hermione's hand.

Tawnie had swooped down on her the last time she'd returned, making her "kew-wick," sound, announcing her arrival, startling Hermione because she couldn't see her. Tawnie had made several abrupt vocals interspaced with some subdued, "ha," sounds as Hermione had tried to locate her owl as if the owl thought it funny. But Hermione had finally managed spot the tell-tale Disillusionment shimmer on a branch in a bush beside her and removed the charms, receiving a coarse, "hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo," back, from the owl.

'Severus did this to you, didn't he?' she had asked her highly amused owl, who had simply ruffled her thick plumage, the remnants of her adolescent downy plumage making her look puffy, as she rearranged her wings.

Hermione now used the same spells on Tawnie before each flight to ensure her safety, thanking Severus for his insight.

"What are you doing out here?" Ron asked.

"Thinking," she replied, wondering if he'd seen Tawnie leave.

"It's bloody cold," he said, his hands deep in his coat pockets. "I hate being cold, freezing every night. It's bloody miserable. My arm hurts all the time, and my shoulder..."

She looked around as he complained, drowning out most of it, and just let him talk. It was late autumn now: the ground was covered with a thick blanket of leaves, the deciduous trees were almost completely bare and the wind had a crisp, chilly nip to it, but it thankfully was not raining presently. He'd stopped talking. She turned to him and smiled. "Yes, I know it's really hard, but we'll manage. I hope winter comes late," she said.

"I wish Ginny would send another letter," he said. "You haven't heard from her, have you?"

"If I had, I'd have shown you her letter," she replied, dropping her left leg and turning to sit properly on the tree. "I did write to her, and I had to charm the letter so only she'd understand it, but I don't know if she's had time to write back. It's her sixth year, they heap on a lot of schoolwork, and she's learning nonverbal spells like we did."

He sat down next to her. "I didn't know he didn't know where they all were," he said, looking at the ground.

She had to do a mental double take to realize what he meant. "I know. But really, I think it's like the other stuff we've done...the mysteries we've solved. Like working out who the heir of Slytherin was and that there was a basilisk moving about in the castle our second year, or that Sirius Black was really after your rat, Pettigrew. We won't know until we figure it out. We just have to keep at it until something clicks or we find the clue we're overlooking," she said patiently. "Solving mysteries takes time and research."

"But we're not researching anything, are we? We're camping," he whinged. "We gave up trying to find anything. We don't go anywhere anymore in search of information or places or anything. We hide, and it's fucking miserable."

"Not so, well, yes, we're living in a tent because it's mobile and easy to conceal. You have to have faith that we'll work it out...we always do," she said calmly, getting tired of his whining but not wanting to set him off again.

He looked up, staring ahead. "And in the meantime my family is out there...fighting. My dad, brothers and my mum are all fighting You-Know-Who, and all we're doing is all this bloody camping. Even Ginny is doing something...she tried to get the sword. Probably to send it to us! And we're doing nothing but running around for weeks fishing."

"I'm sure your family is fine. Your parents are resourceful, and your brothers are grown wizards, capable of taking care of themselves, and Ginny is safe at school," she said, then thought about her own parents and hoped they were all right.

"Safe?!" he snapped as he turned his head to stare at her. "She's being tortured!"

"Yeah, detention with Hagrid is torturous," she said sarcastically with a roll of her eyes. She flinched at his hardened glare. "We've had detentions with him before, and actually it wasn't all that bad. Well, it wasn't. And Hagrid would protect her from anything dangerous. Besides, Ginny is really a capable witch in her own right, you know that. She's survived the fight in the Department of Mysteries and the battle we had at the castle. Even Fred and George don't push your sister too far, they're afraid of her Bat-Bogey Hex."

"But we're never going to find these bloody things," he reiterated.

"You don't know that," she said with an exasperated sigh.

"We've gone over it a hundred times," he whinged. "I thought Dumbledore knew where these things were. I thought he'd told Harry. All those bloody lessons, and he has nothing to go by."

"Dumbledore was dying. He told Harry everything he knew about Tom Riddle, and I'm sure that if he'd had the time, he'd gotten around to telling Harry how to destroy the Horcruxes or how to summon the sword or something." She looked at him with a small smile. "Since no one wants to cook, I'll go someplace in Aberaeron or Cardigan Bay to buy food, if you'll clean up the mess in the tent," Hermione offered. She'd been there with her parents and had a reasonable idea where to go. She had enough time before it would get dark. Besides, she wanted dish soap and toilet paper.

"Oh, so I'm a slob," he said, affronted.

"What? No! Well, it is mostly your stuff, Ron," she said as gently as she could. "Look, I'm hungry. I'll see about getting something and bringing it back. You'll feel better after eating something hardy."

"You're right." He stood up and offered her his hand. To appease him, she accepted it, even thought she didn't need it. But he didn't back up when she straightened. "You're something else, Hermione. An incredible witch," he said softly, then leaned down to kiss her.

She placed her hand on his chest as she leaned back. "No, Ron."

"What is it – Harry? Is that who you're after?" he asked. "If you are, you can tell me. I know; it knows."

"Harry? No, it's not like that," she said emphatically. "I'm not interested in Harry like that; we're only friends."

"No? Then why are you always whispering to each other, talking behind my back?" he asked accusingly. "Can't wait to be rid of me so you two can be alone, are you?"

She couldn't believe this was happening. "No, Ron, no... Where did...?" She wondered if perhaps he was wearing the locket. "Harry and I are only friends; there is nothing going on between us, I swear. He's like a brother to me," she said trying to make him realize he was nutters.

"You used to like me, I know you did. It's right, isn't it?" he said, his hands resting on her hips.

It said...? It... the locket? she thought as she placed her hands on his to remove them.

"I know you were jealous of Lavender." He tried to kiss her again. "Come on, we'd be good together."

"No, Ron, don't," she said, turning her head and pushing him away, but he only tried harder to pull her to him.

She shoved at him with all her strength, making him stumble back a step. "Ron. Stop!"

He glared at her, his fury evident in his hard expression. "It's another bloke, isn't it? The whispers, they are right, aren't they? Who is it?" he barked at her. "McLaggen? Anthony Goldstein?"

She couldn't believe what he was saying. The hushed whispers of the locket were telling him...of course! He hears them too...he must! It has to be the locket. "Anthony? He's in the DA...we're friends...we had some of the same classes," she shrieked.

"What's going on?" Harry asked coming out of the tent.

"Ask your girlfriend," Ron spat and stormed away.

"Ron, wait!" she called out but he had Disapparated. "Harry, who's got the locket?" she asked, feeling a sense of dread.

"I do. Why?" Harry asked.

"Just asking," she said with a heavy sigh, hoping it had been the locket making him act so weird. "I'm going to go get something to eat. He'll be back, you'll see." She turned for the tent to find something decent to wear to Cardigan Bay. "Our next stop has to be a place with laundry facilities. I really need to get my stuff properly washed, and I want to use real laundry soap and water. Refreshment charms only do so much," she said to him, then stopped realizing Harry wasn't following her.

"He's gone, isn't he?" Harry asked, staring at the place where Ron had disappeared.

"He'll be back," she said, trying to sound optimistic.

~ T. B. .C. ~

Author's Notes:

One point of difference from canon, Ron was sullen and irritable after overhearing the conversation with Headmaster Black where they learn about the sword. There is a single day lapse before he argues with Harry again and his attempt to kiss Hermione, which led to his storming out.