In The Dark Rift

A huge thank you to my alpha reader, Arabellabloodgood, for reading this over for me and to EverMystique, DuchessOfArcadia and Dandru for combing through this and helping me clean up my mistakes. I really appreciate the beta help. Thank you very much.

Also, smooches and a big thank you to Jay for my banner! I really love it.

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~o 33 o~

In The Dark Rift

Why he'd allowed Eugene Roquewood to corner him, Cillian had no idea, but the man had demanded to know when he'd announce his engagement to his bloody daughter. From across the room, Cillian watched as both Belinda and Bellatrix moved in on Hermione, and he wondered why the girl was standing all alone. If he'd known that Severus would be pulled away from her, he wouldn't have allowed himself to be lured away.

Neither Belinda nor Bellatrix had any compunction about taking initiatives where Muggle-borns were concerned, nor feared receiving punishments for their actions, and both carried deep animosity toward Hermione. Bellatrix was a pure-blood extremist, a bloody zealot sycophant, and Bell was really good at making accidents happen; just like her late husband, Leland Penhallow, or her first husband Armon Kirschner. Cillian suspected that only the fact that Horrance's will left everything to be divided up between his sons had kept him alive thus far. Unless they remained married for the required twenty years for the spousal rights laws to take effect, and Belinda had sixteen years to go for that to happen.

Where the bloody hell is Severus? he thought as he made a half-hearted excuse to Roquewood to get to Hermione. But the throngs of guests were moving in the direction of the doors and sweeping Hermione out with them. Damn, that's not good. He could see Rodolphus and Rabastan following Belinda, Bellatrix and Hermione, but even if Rodolphus wasn't going to harm Hermione himself, he had little or no control of his wife's actions, and Rabastan harbored resentment for his arrest following the Department of Mysteries fiasco. Marked or no, Rabastan, Bellatrix and Belinda hated Hermione, and at the very least, they would take their sport out on her for revenge, just as long as they didn't actually kill the girl.

Once on the terrace, Cillian saw Rodolphus and Rabastan heading down the steps that led to the gardens. Cillian ran across the terrace, shoving his way through the guests, not caring if he knocked anyone down. As he neared the steps, he saw his sister and Bellatrix, with the Lestrange brothers, heading for the break in the six-foot hedges that separated the formal garden from the family's gardens. Dolohov, Rowle, and Jugson were slashing large holes in the hedge as well, trying to force their way through.

Unbeknownst to him, Severus and Draco were behind him as Cillian raced down the stairs. He just reached the break in the hedge when Hermione stood and Disapparated.

"Fuck," Severus swore behind him.

~S~

"I didn't think that the Dark Lord's courtesans would chase her off the grounds," Severus snarled and ushered Cillian aside with Draco following right behind him.

"I'll kill her!" Draco snarled, running his hand through his hair in agitation as he turned slightly, and then dropped his hand as he faced the men.

Cillian turned on Draco. "Who, Hermione, your aunt, or my sister?" he demanded, apparently furious with all three.

"Stop it – we have damage control to do," Severus snapped, gaining control of the situation. "Draco, check my house; she might have tried to go there, hoping that is where I'd go. If she's not at my house, go to the castle in case she goes there. Tell Dumbledore's portrait what happened – he'll alert the other portraits. Wait there until the Dark Lord or I contact you."

"You're kidding me, right?" Draco asked incredulously, drawing his wand. "She won't go there."

"She's a Gryffindor, not a Slytherin – they don't think when they're upset or panicking." Severus stated.

"Good point," Draco admitted, Disapparating.

"You don't really think she'll go there, do you?" Cillian asked.

Now that he only had Cillian to deal with, things it would be much easier. "Of course not, unless she feels there is nowhere else to turn. My best guess is that she'll go somewhere she'll feel safe or she'll go to one of her friend's houses," he said. The truth was that he had no idea where she'd go. "When she'd Splinched, she went the house on Grimmauld Place; but Dolohov, Rowle and Jugson will go there, and the Dark Lord will send Yaxley if they need to get in." But Hermione knows this so it's possible she'll try the Burrow, except that...

Cillian said, "Bellatrix will most likely go to the Burrow," as if reading his mind.

And if Hermione runs into her... No, Miss Weasley would have told Hermione that Bellatrix and Rodolphus had attacked the Burrow. She'd not go there... Or would she? Severus had no idea where Belinda would go. He saw Rodolphus and Rabastan heading over to talk to Wroithesley and deFay, so that would keep them busy for a while. Bugger.

"I have the list of people she knows, but I'm sure that many of the houses will be under the Fidelius," Cillian was saying.

"Most likely, but check whichever ones you can," Severus said, turning his attention to his friend. "If you use your piece of the Skrewt shell with the Archaic-Detection Charm to locate the Skrewt shells she wears, you should be able to tell if she's near. I'll go to the Burrow and Black's house; she might try to find some of the Order members." They both had a piece of Skrewt shell in their pocket, the ones with the runes and symbols. "I tried extending the range on them, but so far I've only been able to test it in the castle, and at best she had only been two hundred feet away."

"I understand. I'll do what I can," Cillian said, pulling the shell fragment from his pocket.

People hiding in Fidelius-protected homes would automatically be protected by the Charm because most specified who lived at the residence as well as the address, thus they'd be untraceable if the Fidelius Charm was strong enough. And the Fidelius Charm on residences where Hermione had stayed in the past had been done by Dumbledore. He was always quite thorough in his specifications. However, the Archaic-Detection Charm could be used to detect if a 'like object' was near, even if the object was in a Fidelius-protected residence; not all the time, but occasionally. It was worth a shot. "If you find her, take her to your island – in fact, I'll meet you there, and we'll decide what to do next," Severus suggested. Damn, what a mess.

"Sounds good," Cillian replied and Disapparated the same time as Severus did.

~ meanwhile ~

Hermione Disapparated and quickly scanned all around her, taking in her surroundings. Her grandmother's house was dark, the heavy drapes in the windows were closed tightly, and there wasn't any smoke from either chimney. However, the back porch light was on, as well as the solar energized garden lighting, but the house had an abandoned feeling. Not that she expected anything different. She'd placed her grandmother in the Sunnyside Nursing Home, located in the village of Iver in Buckinghamshire, the same time she'd sent her parents to Australia.

Nevertheless, the serene garden, now coated in a layer of snow, gave her a sense of familiarity, even if her heart rate was thudding erratically in her chest, her breathing was so hard she was unable to catch her breath, and her nerves were on edge. She fought back the tears that filled her eyes, threatening to fall, and shook her hands to get them to stop trembling. This is a mess.

She was in grave danger, without her wand, and she had no way of contacting Severus. No safe way. Nor could she go back to the Manor, even if she knew where it was, because as Draco had told her, she didn't have the Dark Mark – she was branded – so she could not get in through the gates. Well, there were those Death Eaters standing guard, but they wouldn't understand... They'd hex first and drag her to the Dark Lord... Nope, not an option. I need Severus.

She looked at the back door and sighed. She couldn't get into her grandmother's house – not without her wand to take down the protective spells she'd placed on the house and unlock the door.

She walked over to the garden swing under the vine-covered arbour, wiped off the seat, and sat down, forcing herself to relax enough to think. Ginny had told her that the Burrow had been attacked the day after her disappearance. But then that meant that the Death Eaters knew of its location, unless, of course, Mr. Weasley and Mr. Shacklebolt had repaired the house and re-established the protections on the property.

However, Ginny had mentioned that the family was spending Winter Solstice at her aunt's – but not where she'd be for Christmas... So, they could return in the morning. Or not. Regardless, she did know how to get into the Burrow because Mr. Weasley had told her how to in case she, Ron or Harry needed to. She simply had to use the pair of charmed keys hidden in the shed. And she could Floo a message to Severus at the castle. It was also the most obvious place for her to go, and there was the possibility that Severus would go there looking for her.

It was also possible that because of her disappearance, well, unplanned escape, the Burrow could be surrounded by Death Eaters.

Deciding that was her best option anyway, she Apparated to the Burrow.

~ meanwhile ~

Draco entered Severus' house and immediately knew that Hermione was not there. The house was exactly the same as when he'd last been here. It was almost as welcoming as being home, an odd thought considering that Draco had spent the majority of his life living in large, opulent houses, and this one was a far cry from his normal standard. But for the first time since leaving Hogwarts for the holiday, Draco felt he could actually breathe.

Still he had a task to perform. "Inhabitationem human," he said with a swish of his wand to detect for any human life forms, but the light at the tip of his wand remained in place. Not that he expected anything else to happen. Empty, he scoffed to himself.

He didn't really want to see the upstairs, but he did open the bookshelf that led to the kitchen. Everything was put away: no dishes in the sink to be washed, the bread box was empty, as was the ice box. Even the kettle, pan, and skillet that normally sat on the burners had been tucked into a cupboard. Well, what did you expect? For her to be sitting here waiting for you?

He gazed out of the window at the back garden and smiled. The fanged ivy was spreading up one of the walls, and the roses had been pruned back and packed with mulch for the winter.

With a sigh, he walked back to the sitting room.

Taking one last look around, he slipped outside and locked the door.

Okay. Hogwarts.

~H~

Hermione Apparated under a large oak tree on the hill near the Burrow, to make her way down to the orchard, and what she saw made her blood run cold. From her vantage point, she could see that not much of the Burrow was still standing. She moved forward cautiously.

The house had been nearly burnt to the ground. The ground floor had been built out of stone, and most of it remained as well as most of the chimney and the stovepipe from Mrs. Weasley's kitchen. Well, where the kitchen had been. The windows and porch were gone, too. Some of the first and second floor framework still stood, burned, charred remnants of wood, but the magic that once held the place together was gone. Sections of the house looked as if they had literally fallen off and lay in crumpled, charred debris on the ground. She placed her hand over her mouth to keep herself from crying out.

She'd had no idea that the attack had been this brutal, but she was sure that none of the Weasleys had been burned in the fire; Ginny would have told her so. Although, why Ginny hadn't told her the house had been destroyed, she had no idea. Maybe she hadn't known, but this didn't look recent. There was a layer of snow over everything, giving it a hopeless feeling of desolation. No hope of sending a note by Floo to Severus here. She doubted that the Floo pot could have survived the fire even if the Floo could be activated.

Hermione looked around, wondering what to do next. She didn't know where Neville or Seamus lived. Tinko was going to stay with Ginny over the holiday, wherever that was, and Jannilyn and Jenny were staying with Seamus' family because Jenny loved Ireland so much and jumped at the chance for an Irish Christmas. Hermione hadn't been close enough to Neville or Seamus to exchange addresses, and she greatly regretted it now.

She couldn't return to school; Hogsmeade was full of Death Eaters, and she didn't know where Severus' house was, nor could she remember the back garden well enough to visualize it. Each time she'd tried, all she could remember were the bloodstained flagstones and the blood splattered fanged ivy.

Her only option was Grimmauld Place. Maybe she could contact someone from there.

~ meanwhile ~

Severus Apparated down the street from number twelve, Grimmauld Place and saw Dolohov, Rowle, and Jugson pacing in front of the house. If I get my hands on Belinda, I'll strangle her, he snarled venomously to himself.

Suddenly, the Death Eaters ran across the street as if chasing someone. Severus pulled out his wand and the piece of the shell, set them on his palm and muttered, "Dētegere acertener shells." He watched as his wand balanced on the shell, unmoving, just pointing down the street ahead of him. "Shite," he cursed softly. Maybe she Apparated directly into the house? He shook his head. No. That would wake Mrs. Black. Unless she used the front step? Would she be so bold?

Severus snarled to himself as he Apparated for the top step of the house. He ignored the shouts of his fellow Death Eaters as he landed on the step and opened the door.

"We can hear you. Show yourself!" Jugson demanded.

"Get Yaxley," Dolohov demanded, as if in charge.

Severus used the Archaic-Detection Charm again to ascertain if she'd entered the house but his wand remained motionless, balanced on the disk of shell. She is not in the house. Damn.

He called for the house-elf, but as expected, the elf, Kreacher, did not answer him.

Mrs. Black woke and started screeching.

Then Yaxley entered the foyer, followed by Jugson. "She's not here," Severus stated. "She was here on the street, but I think she saw you and ran away."

"Yeah, blame us for losing the girl," Jugson snapped.

"I saw you on the street! Did it never occur to you to use a Disillusionment Charm?" Severus snapped back. "I have a few more places to check, so I will not report your incompetence."

Severus cast the same defensive spells and warning Klaxon used on the stairs of the girls' dormitories at school on the stairs to the upper floors of the house and bound the Klaxon spell to his piece of shell. If she does get in, that will give her an escape from those thugs.

"What are you doin'?" Yaxley demanded.

"Setting a trap for the girl, just in case," Severus said dismissively as he turned heel and left the house. He straightened his robes and Apparated to the Burrow.

~H~

Being extra cautious, she Apparated to the phone box at the corner of Grimmauld Place and Grimmauld Street and squatted down quickly, peering through the glass to see if she'd been noticed. Thankfully the sound of her Apparition seemed to go unnoticed, or possibly mistaken as the sound of a backfiring motor vehicle.

Hermione pulled her cloak about her. As she made her way down the peaceful street, avoiding the pair of Muggles that crossed her path, she saw two dark robed figures pacing around in the pavement in front of the house. She immediately ran up the steps of the nearest house and pressed her back to the door, hoping the four pillars supporting the overhang, potted plants and the topiaries, all decorated with plastic poinsettias, would hide her.

She knew that the Death Eaters could not actually see Harry's house, but if she were to Apparate to the top step in front of the door, although they might not see her, they'd definitely hear her. She wondered if she should try the small back garden, but shook her head and pressed herself back against the door of the house. The back door is secured, and I'd need my wand to get in. She could try Apparating directly into the foyer and risk waking Mrs. Black, but they'd definitely be able to hear the old hag's screeches.

She heard a car pass by, but the street was quiet, as expected considering the hour. She leaned forward and was shocked to see the dark robed figures were gone. She chose to take the risk, Disapparating into the house and set off the wailing image of Mrs. Black.

Kreacher appeared instantly and grabbed Hermione's wrist as he waved his hand at the portrait of Mrs. Black with his other hand. "Hush now, Mistress. Kreacher takes cares of this," he croaked, making the curtains close.

The next second, she felt the tug, much like a Portkey would, behind her navel and found herself tripping over the elf next to the pantry. At least Mrs. Black was now quiet.

"Squats down if you wants to lives," he snarled.

She squatted, and he shoved her through the wall into a dimly lit cramped space.

"Do nots move or speaks. Especially do nots speaks anything. Holds real still." Kreacher began to mumble something in a language she couldn't understand, low rumbling words, his hands held up toward her.

She heard sounds, shouts, crashing; all the while Kreacher kept mumbling the strange words. She concentrated on Kreacher to squelch her fears. He wore a new pillowcase tied around his hips and had on the locket that Harry had shown her at the end of their sixth year, but she forced herself not to ask why.

There was the loud pop of Apparition, followed by the heavy footfalls of someone in boots walking around upstairs and the wailing screeches of Mrs. Black. Hermione strained to listen for anything. If anyone found her she was helpless. No wand and only a few minor wandless spells that would not be helpful in any way if she were faced with an angry Death Eater. On the other hand, it could be Severus looking for her.

Sweat beaded on Kreacher's brow, and the voices above her indicated that the men, plural, were arguing. Hermione leaned back, her lower back pressed against the warm stone, and waited, trusting Kreacher.

~ meanwhile ~

Severus arrived at the Burrow, not really expecting to find Hermione, but it was one of the three places he knew that she'd felt safe in their world. He knew that she wouldn't just appear on the side of the old dirt driveway like he had, so he scanned the area for the most likely spot. Deciding that she might try the orchard gate or someplace up on the hill above the house, he tried both.

He knew that the Burrow had been attacked, and now there was little remaining of the place. He scanned the ground quickly by the orchard gate and even cast a few magic detection charms. The spell indicated that no one had been by there for months and there were no fresh footprints in the snow, save his own. Not that Hermione couldn't have concealed her prints if she were thinking clearly, he thought. He Apparated for the large oak tree on the hill – the place that the Order members used when coming here.

He moved cautiously, searching the ground for clues. A few paces ahead, he saw fresh footprints of a ladies shoe in the snow, the prints approximately Hermione's in size. So she was here, or had been. Following the footprints, he saw the sure sign of Apparition – the round indention of a shoe pivoting in the snow, the swirl of cloak turning around, making a distinct pattern and exposing the grass and leaves. Here and gone again.

He considered where she'd go next. So far he knew that she'd avoided capture because he'd have been summoned if she had, and his Mark would have burned with the Dark Lord's fury. His Mark was irritating him, but only an irritatingly prickling itch. It was likely only transmitting the Dark Lord's displeasure – that was if he'd already found out about Hermione's escape, which was quite likely.

But if there was the even the slightest possibility Hermione would use this opportunity to find Potter, he wanted to give her that chance. He could always go back to the school and activate the trace he'd put on her shoes. Besides, he wanted to check in with Cillian and see if he'd had any luck on tracking down Hermione through her friends or had any word from their brethren.

~H~

She heard the loud pop of Apparition again, muffled by the screeches of Mrs. Black's portrait, some cursing, followed by doors slamming, and heavy foot falls of men in boots walking around upstairs. Finally the footsteps faded, and all she could hear was Kreacher mumbling his incantation and her own breathing. Hermione tried to slow her breath rate, but all she managed to do was make her breathing laboured and irregular. Even her heart seemed to be thudding hard as if trying to escape her chest.

Her legs were cramped, and her back ached. She leaned against the wall, and Kreacher glared at her, but he didn't stop his chanting. Her legs were numb, she was sweating, but nowhere near what Kreacher was, and he smelled. Finally his ears twitched.

He turned his head slightly as his ears widened and stretched out. He dropped his hands. "Stays."

She only nodded and tried to move a little to ease the pain in her back and legs.

Thankfully Kreacher wasn't gone for very long. "They is gone. They did not knows you is here," he said as he pulled her out of her hiding place.

"How?" she asked softly, stretching to loosen up her aching limbs and back.

"I hides you," he croaked and smiled, not a reassuring sight, but somewhat friendly. "I hides your magic. I makes you a house-elf."

He didn't make any sense. "What?"

"To them, they sees only a house-elf," he said proudly. "Is you hungry? Kreacher will feeds the Mudblood friend of his master."

Somehow his use of the term Mudblood didn't sound as condescending as he used to say it, just factual. "Do you know where Harry is?" she asked him.

"Kreacher hears his master," he grumbled, walking to the cupboards.

"Can you take me to him?" she asked, though the thought of food was actually appealing.

"No, Master does not call for Kreacher," he said, pulling out a roasted turkey and carrots. "Kreacher can only goes to Master when he calls Kreacher." He placed a burly-looking red root and celery on the counter. "But Kreacher is ready to goes whenever master calls him." He bent to retrieve something from a low cupboard. "Bad mens comes into the house all the times. They tries to see if peoples come. Kreacher is to warn Master's friends to goes away. It's not safe for Master's friends."

"But you didn't send me away," she said, much more like a question than a statement.

"Kreacher is to feeds and hides Master's Mudblood friend," the old elf said, pulling out a pot.

She chose to ignore the use of the term considering he was being nice to her. "I need to change my clothes," she said, and he nodded.

"Your clothes," he said, putting the pot on the stove. "I cans do that."

"I'd prefer Muggle clothes," she suggested, since robes might be more encumbering for now.

"Yes, Mudblood wears Muggle clothes," he said and disappeared.

Hermione decided to go up stairs and use the loo. When she gazed at her appearance in the mirror, she noticed that one of her earrings was missing. Damn. Not that she liked them, but Severus had made them for her so they had special meaning to her. Still, she looked a fright. She pulled up her sleeve to wash her hands and nearly started crying, seeing the brand on her arm. Grabbing the soap, she tried to wash it off, then dropped the soap and gave in to her tears. It was hopeless; she was branded as His follower for life.

There was a soft pounding of a fist on the door. "Kreacher puts Muggle clothes in girls' room," he said, and she could hear him walk away.

Inhaling, she rinsed her forearm and hands, then left the loo to go change her clothes.

In the room she'd shared with Ginny, Hermione found not one but three pairs of Muggle jeans, two heavy jumpers, two long-sleeved t-shirts, and three blouses, none of them hers, and all approximately her size. There were also hiking boots, trainers and a package of socks and knickers. Wondering where Kreacher got them, but not turning down the gifts, she called for Kreacher to help her out of her robes.

He appeared instantly, shaking his head, and made a few flips of his hands over the fastenings before he Disapparated. "Thank you," she said, careful not to raise her voice but hoping he'd hear her anyway. She dressed quickly and dug her tiny purse out of the pocket of her cloak, wondering if the clothes would all fit inside, then cursed herself for being so stupid. Both compacts were tucked away somewhere deep inside the tiny purse.

~ meanwhile ~

Severus Apparated for the island and strode quickly up the path to the house. He knew that the spells on the island would alert Cillian to his presence. Within minutes, Cillian met him at the small wall that surrounded the little front garden. "I checked several of them – no sign of her."

"The Burrow had been attacked, and she was not there or at the house on Grimmauld Place," he told Cillian.

"Where to now? The castle?" Cillian asked.

"I seriously doubt she'll go there," Severus said, looking around. "No, she'll either try to find one of her friends or Potter." He really didn't have too many options. He hoped she'd meet up with Potter; that was if none of his fellow brethren found her first. It was only a matter of time before the Dark Lord would summon him for news. At least he and Cillian would not be held accountable for her escape – he'd see to that. It was time that Belinda faced some facts and punishments.

"So, back to my list?" Cillian asked, crossing his arms. "This could be a wild white hart hunt."

"I've got one or two more possibilities to check and then I'll come back here." Severus said. "If worst comes to worst, I have another option," he said. He hoped that Arthur would trust him, and that Ginevra had the mate to Hermione's mirror.

"What about Draco?" Cillian asked.

"I'll check on Draco," Severus said.

Cillian nodded. "And I'll check on the Wangs and Waithes, and maybe the Finnigan and Longbottoms again. I might get lucky," he said.

"I'm going to try the Order's old headquarters again," Severus stated.

Cillian nodded again and Disapparated.

And if she's not there, I'll go to my office and activate the trace on her shoes, he thought.

~H~

Hermione pulled out the mirror, the match to Harry's mirror, from her tiny purse. She made the mirror vibrate easily enough and smiled when he opened his. "Harry! Oh, it's good to see you."

"Hermione, where are you – you're in Grimmauld Place?"

She was surprised that he knew. "How did you..." She turned and smiled. "Oh, of course, the wall mirror you hated." It was huge, the frame was made up of undulating and slithering snakes and had three little cherubs on the top, holding small harps that they used to make the snakes back up by smacking them on their noses. She looked at his image in her compact mirror. "Is there any way I can find you? Maybe meet you someplace?"

"What about Snape?" Harry asked. Although she could only see the top half of his face, she could tell he wasn't smiling.

"He doesn't know that I'm here. Please, Harry." She desperately wanted to see him and Ron.

Harry's reflection showed a patch of hair and his ear, then his face again. "Sure, meet me on the bank of the River Thames next to the Surrey side of the Richmond Bridge."

"Right, I've been there," she said excitedly. His image vanished.

Dressing for the cold, she pulled on one of the heavy jumpers over a t-shirt and flannel shirt, packed the rest of the Muggle clothes in her purse and donned her cloak. When she entered the foyer cautiously, Kreacher handed her a large basket full to brimming with meat pies, apple tarts, a round of cheese, and biscuits. She was sure it wasn't all for her. "I'm going to where Harry is, if Severus Snape asks you," she told him. "The Surrey side of the Richmond Bridge. Tell only Severus Snape."

Kreacher nodded. "If the Dark Lord's spy asks, Kreacher will tells him."

"Thank you, Kreacher, for everything."

He just waved her off, turning to the kitchen, mumbling something she couldn't hear. Hermione took a deep breath to brace herself, stepped quickly out onto the top step and Apparated for the Richmond Bridge. She looked around at the unusual illumination of the familiar landscape. The colors were off: the snow on the ground had an amber hue, the foliage a ruddy hue, and the shadows were oddly colored as well. Everything seemed to be... duller, dim, as if... "Right the luster will be a bit off," she said. She looked up. The full moon was passing through Earth's shadow in the center of the dark rift of the Milky Way just like she'd read in the Daily Prophet.

"What are you on about?" Harry asked.

"The eclipse of the full moon, Harry. It's a huge astrological event – a huge omen of great portents... 'For seventy-two minutes of eerie totality, an amber light will play across the snow, throwing the landscapes into an unusual state of ruddy shadow...'" she quoted the article she'd read in the Daily Prophet. She looked around again. "It's happening."

"Okay, it's happening," he said, looking around. "How long? Seventy-two – that's just over an hour."

"Yes," she said, turning to him.

Harry aimed his wand at her. "What is the name of Ginny's pigmy puff?"

She looked at him in disbelief. "Arnold. Why, Harry?"

"What is Luna's or Tonk's Patronus?" he asked next.

"Luna's is a hare, and Tonk's is a wolf – well, a werewolf – for Remus," she said, putting one hand on her hip since the other still held the basket of food. "Where did you and I first meet?"

He narrowed his eyes at her. "What?"

"Answer me; if we are going to do this, answer the question," she insisted. "Where did you and I first meet, and what did I ask you?"

"The train," he said and lowered his wand a little. "I don't remember what you asked me? You did ask Ron to show you his spell. What was the spell supposed to do?"

"Turn his rat yellow – only his rat was actually Peter Pettigrew in his Animagus form. But we didn't know that until our third year in the Shrieking Shack. Satisfied?"

"Fine. Yes. We have to go," he said, lowering his wand. Dean Thomas and Oliver Wood removed Harry's invisibility cloak as they both stood up and stepped out from the shadows of the bridge. "My backup. Are you coming?"

~S~

Severus Apparated to Grimmauld Place again, certain that she'd eventually have to go there. He ignored the shouts of the four Death Eaters as he landed on the steps and quickly entered the house.

"We can hear you. Show yourself!" Macnair shouted as he closed the door.

Thugs. He tried the Archaic-Detection Charm to locate her Skrewt jewelery again to make certain. But his wand angled in the direction of the drawing room. He stepped into the doorway and looked around the empty room. She's not here. He tried again, wondering why the spell had indicated the drawing room, only his wand barely twitched. It remained pointed toward the window closest to him. He placed the shell fragment in his fist and aimed his wand at the room. "Accio Skrewt shell," he said with a flick of his wrist. Nothing happened, well except for the slight tug on his hand.

Tightening his fingers around his wand, he turned. "Inhabitationem human," he said with a swish of his wand to check the house. The light at the tip of his wand sailed toward the window closest to the front door. The thugs outside, apparently.

She is not in the house.

He tried calling the house-elf, but Kreacher didn't answer him, and Mrs. Black was screeching away at the top of her painted lungs. He cast the spell that allowed the male staff of Hogwarts to enter the female dormitories and went up stairs. Opening the door to what had once been a ladies' parlor, he saw Hermione's wedding robes hanging on a wardrobe. Of course, the room she used when staying here. So you were here. Bugger, I missed her. Then he noticed her shoes lying on the floor. Damn it, no! he swore again. Well, no use activating the trace.

He looked around the room and realized that there were two beds, two wardrobes with the chairs moved to the side of the room and the far wall by the windows. Miss Weasley.

His Dark Mark burned slightly again, not a summons, just the Dark Lord's agitation. It hadn't really stopped all night; the sensation just changed from annoying irritation, to irritating itch, to aggravating burn and back. However, the Dark Lord still hadn't summoned him to explain. I'm being given time. Thank, Merlin.

Severus used the Floo to go to the Headmaster's suite and went up to their room to search through Hermione's trunk for any clues to where she might have gone. He tried one lock, pleased that she hadn't used any magic other than the simple Locking Charm to keep him from opening the locks. He found some of his books from his private collection in the compartment, but nothing useful in his search. Ignoring the books, he opened another compartment. But there was nothing among her things in it that could help him, so he opened the third compartment and was likewise disappointed. He opened the last one.

Scrounging around carefully through the old sheets of parchments, her magical hats, old papers and his old broom, he was displeased to see many of the Weasley's joke shop items he'd confiscated off her when she'd been remanded to his care: her Hand of Glory was in an old sock, about a half a dozen or so Decoy Detonators scurried about, the box of Peruvian Darkness Powder capsules, her two swamp canisters, and other items. I thought I had Peren get rid of all this, he grumbled to himself, swearing, Damn her, as he picked up an old edition of the Daily Prophet that had the article about her disappearance and a very old Gobstones Gazette.

But at least she wasn't responsible for the swamp on the first floor corridor, he thought. He was about to close the lid when he saw an expensive sheet of parchment lying in her trunk. He pulled it out and examined both sides, smiling. It's the one from her memories.

He found quill and ink easily enough in the second compartment and tried to use the parchment to find Hermione. Where is Hermione, my hand fasted wife?

The ink absorbed into the parchment and words formed. It's not your turn to know or see. You must wait two more times until she writes three, and only if I pass myself to thee.

More than a little disappointed, and realizing it wouldn't cooperate with him, Severus placed everything in the compartment as it had been and slammed the lid closed.

He left the Headmaster's tower and ran all the way up to Gryffindor tower, barking a demand to the Fat Lady to let him in. He scrambled through the crawl space to enter the common room, swearing that he would enlarge the bloody opening to a more reasonable size before term resumed, and hurried over to the staircase to the girls' dormitories. With a flick of his wand and the right incantation, he took the stairs two at a time to the sixth years' dorm room. Since Jenny Wang, Janilynn Waithe, and Ginevra Weasley were all friendly with Hermione this year, he searched each girl's wardrobe and bed to look for clues about where Hermione may have gone. In one of the wardrobes, he found an old beat up envelope with the Granger's address. He smirked and rose to leave.

~ meanwhile ~

Draco knew this was a waste of time as he strolled the familiar stone corridors, heading for the Entrance Hall. He'd checked the library again, more for someplace to go than expecting anything, or anyone, and checked in with the gargoyle, ignoring that crazy knight Sir Cadogan's declaration that 'the fair maiden' was still missing. Great.

The six students who were staying in the castle over the holiday were up on the Astronomy tower with Professor Sinistra, watching the lunar event for extra credit. And the few staff members who were staying as well were either out on the grounds with Hagrid or up on the tower watching the astrological event through the telescopes. Even the merpeople had surfaced, and centaurs were wandering about the grounds. He divided his time between going outside, pretending to be enjoying the effects of the unusual lunar eclipse, and climbing his way up to the Astronomy tower to peer through one of the telescopes, but he was too concerned for Hermione to stay in one place for too long.

That and the centaurs' comments about the portents and omens, the passing of the full moon though the Earth's shadow in the middle of the Milky Way, unnerved him. They spoke of seventy-two days of turmoil and strife, of evil and despair... Not that the Dark Lord's interpretations of the event were any better in comparison. His time. His dominance. His full rise to power... ya-da ya-da ya-da.

The castle itself was quiet, and all the portraits were awake and on alert as were the ghosts. It was almost unnerving seeing all the painted faces smiling at him again. Every one of the portraits was on the lookout for one girl. Only one. Hermione. Even the painted animals seemed to be on the hunt for her, which was simply ridiculous.

They are just the magical imprint of a bloody animal, for Merlin's sake, he thought as a lion roared at him from a painting of a carousel horse on which a young lady was usually perched, making Draco jump. "Bloody hell! Go to your own frame," he snarled at the beast as it raised a paw as if waving at him. He walked on.

It was like that one portrait, a woman, Violet, who sought Draco out every time he walked through the castle to let him know that Hermione hadn't appeared in front of the Fat Lady, and of course Sir Cadogan, who had situated himself in the painting closest to the Headmaster's tower, rushed into the painting of four famous Alchemists that hung next to the stairs whenever he saw Draco pass to give his reports.

Not that she's going to come here. She won't come because Severus and Cillian aren't here, he thought as he crossed the landing for the next flight of stairs.

Still it was more peaceful and serene being in the castle than it would be if he was at the manor; more peaceful than the manor had been for the last year and a half, especially since the Dark Lord had commandeered his home.

Ever since his father had escaped from Azkaban, he hadn't been the same. That first summer after Draco's fourth year, his father had been fanatical about his own rise in the wizarding world, their coming into power now that the Dark Lord had returned; however, since the summer after his fifth year, home had never been the same. He refused to think on it.

His Dark Mark burned slightly, again. Not a summons, but the Dark Lord is angry – furious, but not at me. Thankfully. Still it had been irritating him for nearly two hours now. Not surprisingly.

When he'd entered the Headmaster's tower earlier that evening, Draco had expected the portrait of Dumbledore to scoff at him, but the old wizard had surprised him yet again. That damned old, wizened, painted imprint with his twinkling blue eyes had calmly listened intently to what Draco said, asking questions every so often for clarification. When Draco had finished, several of the ex-headmaster's portraits had consented to the importance of watching out for Hermione, and then they had simply walked out of their frames, many of them to speak to the other painted imprints that hung on the castle's walls. Ex-Headmasters Everard Beasley, Johnathan Atterbury, and Phineas Black went to their other portraits – wherever they were – as did Dilys Derwent, the famous Healer slash Headmistress, and Dexter Fortescue, the famous historian slash Headmaster.

So, St. Mungo's and the Newton-Cragg Magical Library in Birmingham have been searched, he thought ruefully. Just in case Hermione wanted to check out a book at one in the morning or wished to visit Lockhart or... Damn! He sighed and counted to ten. He wanted news, any news.

Draco opened the huge oak doors and stood outside on the top of the steps, surveying the grounds. The centaurs were still talking with Hagrid and Professor Lundergan, and the merpeople were still frolicking on the surface of the lake.

He stood there until his Dark Mark seared again, not a summons, just the Dark Lord's agitation. Besides I'm cold again. He turned to make his way back up to the Astronomy tower, by way of the Headmaster's tower and Gryffindor tower. Maybe I'll go to the library again. Damn it, where is she?

~H~

Harry Apparated Hermione to a place in the woods, a sort of clearing not too far from a stream, and both Dean and Oliver appeared directly after. She immediately recognized Mr. Weasley's canvas tent, which stood next to another Muggle dome tent and a four-man tent that had a stove pipe sticking out of the top. "You've got more than one?"

"Dennis and Colin Creevey's dad's tents – the girls use that one," Harry said and gave her arm a slight tug. "C'mon."

"Girls?" she asked, not at all sure why he seemed angry with her.

"Katie Bell, Alicia Spinnet, and Angelina Johnson," Wood replied. "Katie and Alicia were with me when we hooked up with Harry, Dean, and Ron."

At least Oliver was being amiable, but he still had his wand out. "So who is here?" she asked.

"Most of the DA. Well, those that are on the run at least," Dean said, ignoring Harry's pained look as he held open the tent flap for Hermione to enter. "Anthony Goldstein's here as you can see, and Michael Corner joined us yesterday." Dean entered the tent after her, followed by Harry. "He escaped the raid on the train."

Ron was kneeling next to a huge coffee table with several maps spread out on the surface and sheets of parchment scattered about. He looked up when Dean called out, "Wotcher, we're back." Dean's attention turned to Hermione again. "Turns out, Ron's quite the commander, it seems. He's our Field Marshal."

But Hermione was too happy to see the redhead to pay attention to what he'd said. "Ron!" she cried out, moving into the tent toward the table.

"Hermione!" Ron exclaimed, scrambling to his feet. Anthony turned around and smiled at her, one of his hands holding the maps in place.

"Wayne Hopkins and William Summers are at Justin Finch-Fletchley's place in the Lake District right now, but they will be back sometime tonight. It's under the Fidelius now. We call it outpost two," Dean said to her as Ron walked around the table. "Along with Susan Bones, Karyn Rackley, Julene and Duane Drachenblut, Pamela Wealthlow, and Denard Dromsk. They were all in Hufflepuff, a year above us, I think. Well, Julene left school the year before Umbridge was there. Christine Weston and Farrah Chambers are there, too. They're fifth years, I think."

"Christine – Charlene's little sister?" Hermione asked, still shocked by the list Dean was rambling off so quickly.

"Yeah. However, Christine doesn't know what happened to Charlene, and she's really upset," Ron said with a lift of his shoulders. "Susan said she can help out if anyone gets hurt. We think that Megan Jones and Mandy Brocklehurst are hiding with their families."

"Sue Li and Lisa Turpin are missing. We think they were picked up by Snatchers. We don't think they were sent to Azkaban, but we're not sure. They aren't on the lists," Oliver stated.

Hermione turned to face him. "What lists?" she asked, looking from Oliver and Dean to Ron.

"In The Quibbler. Or the Daily Prophet, but the lists in the Prophet aren't accurate either." Ron said as he engulfed her in a hug. "Oh, it's good to have you back." Grateful for the acceptance, she hugged him back.

"Yeah, well, the Prophet said that Wood here was sent to Azkaban," Dean said, pointing over his shoulder with his thumb, indicating Wood. "So we don't know where Sue and Lisa are. We're hoping for the best."

Hermione pulled away to look at Dean and Wood. "Azkaban – so it's not all true?"

"Nope, not all the time," Ron stated. "Sue Li and Lisa Turpin haven't used their coins since November." He looked up at Harry. "Got a message from Hopkins while you were out. Walter Fewkes and Roland Thaxter are back at outpost two. He's sending a message to Shifty Pink and Royal."

"Great," Harry grumbled and turned his head.

"Harry doesn't like being the Commander-in-Chief," Wood said with a smirk.

"Nah, he thinks we should all go hide in our tents until he saves the wizarding world," Colin said, walking up. "Dennis said that he and dad got a boar."

"Right, I'll have to go get them. Tell them to call me," Ron said and turned to Hermione again. "Don't go anywhere, we've got catching up to do," he added and walked out of the tent.

"The Creeveys are really good at camping, hunting, and trapping stuff," Alicia stated, and Colin's posture straightened, and his chest puffed slightly, clearly pleased by the praise. "We'd be starving if it weren't for the Creeveys."

Colin nodded, making his shaggy hair fall into his eyes. "Dad likes the wilderness and knows all sorts of things, like what's edible and what's not. He's taught me and Dennis how all our lives."

"That's great, Colin." Hermione looked around the tent. "It's bigger than I remember."

"Alicia did this. Harry, Ron and me use that room," Dean stated, pointing to an untied flap across the tent. "But they like to be by themselves sometimes." He pointed to a section where a flap was tied open, showing a few bunks and some clothes piled on a chair. "That one is for Oliver and Anthony. Michael Corner, Wayne Hopkins and William Summers use that one. The girls are in the yellow and green dome tent, and the Creeveys' use Mr. Creevey's tent. Apparently, Alicia knew the charms to transform a Muggle tent into a fairly spacious space."

"My dad makes magical tents, and I help in the shop over the summers," Alicia said casually. "Mostly I helped with the sewing and cutting. But even before I passed my O.W.Ls, Dad and Brian taught me the spells – I just wasn't supposed to use them on the bigger tent projects until I'd finished fifth-year. The Creevey's tents, they are Muggle, so adding a bathroom was hard, and adding a potbelly stove to the frame tent was a challenge; I had to modify the poles to take the added weight, but it's really nice now. Making this one enlarge was easier."

"We have two rooms now, and a kitchen, and a sitting room, too," Colin stated with his normal exuberance. "It's really cool what magic can do, huh?"

Ron came back followed by little Dennis Creevey. "Dad is outside cleaning the boar," he said enthusiastically, carrying a bucket of something to the kitchen area. "And I found some sweet potato roots, truffles, and mushrooms!"

Ron turned to look at Angelina. "Whose night is it to cook?"

"Wayne's" she said, rising up from her seat. "But I'll get it started for him."

~C~

Cillian crossed Waithe off the list and Apparated to the next address on his list. There was nothing there but an old car parked next to a snow capped stone wall surrounding an empty field covered in snow. The unusual event of the lunar eclipse cast everything in an amber hue and gave all the shadows a ruddy color. If he wasn't trying to hunt down an elusive girl, he'd have enjoyed the sight. However, he was too worried to really take notice.

He balanced his wand on the piece of shell Severus had given him, yet again, and said, "Dētegere acertener shells," watching his wand for any movement whatsoever. Nothing. It rolled to the side of the shell, but other than that, it didn't even twitch. He'd invented the spell years ago, partially by accident. Well, he'd created it as a variation of the Direction-Compass Charm to locate his then girlfriend, and then showed it to Severus as a lark. It had come in handy several times since, but it was Severus who discovered that it could sometimes locate objects inside a house or dwelling under the Fidelius Charm.

Cillian looked at the list as he crossed off Cornfoot. Not because he could confirm or deny that Hermione was or wasn't there, or because the house wasn't, but because the Archaic-Detection Charm couldn't confirm that she was.

Thing was, it was a short list. He'd made note of who visited Hermione all last term and those she sought out on occasion. But the girl wasn't very popular, especially considering that many of her friends were popular. But then again, she liked the oddballs too, like Luna Lovegood, Tinko Wang and Amelia Halliburton. And, Hermione did have a number of friends in each house. He'd crossed out the Slytherin girls; many of them were at the party and had been avoiding Hermione all night. He knew it was because of the mark, er, brand. That also included the Enfields and McDougals – they were at the party as well, so he'd crossed them out.

He'd crossed out Walsingham, not that the boy, Johathan, had been friendly with Hermione, but he was on the house Quidditch team, in addition to being a prefect. His older sister, Virginia, had been friends with several of the DA members in Gryffindor before leaving school last year, and he'd heard that she'd dated one of the Weasley boys for over a year, although he didn't know which one. Cillian's mate, Anthony Clearwater had four half-sisters, each several years apart, two still in school: forth-year Gryffindor, Romanda Clearwater and seventh-year, Immodine Clearwater. But even though he'd seen the girls hanging around the students known to be in the DA, and they both attended Charms Club, both were shy around Hermione. Charlene Weston, Susan Bones, Luna Lovegood had been abducted off the train, so he'd crossed them off. Claudia Ramirez was in Spain...

That left four names on his list:

Lavender Brown

The Patil twins

Stephanie Adams

Hannah Abbott

Sighing, he Apparated to the street the Patils lived on, because apparently they lived in the neighboring county, and even though they were society pure-bloods and affluent, they were not at the party.

Author's Notes:

The event of great portents in the chapter refers to an astrological event that actually happened in 2010, and was seen in North America, not England, but I thought it would be a cool portent. According to the articles, on the twenty-second of Dec., the first day of northern winter, the full Moon passed almost dead-center through Earth's shadow in the Dark Rift of the Milky Way, causing the affect as mentioned in the story. (http://spaceports.blogspot.com/2010/12/lunar-eclipse-comes-in-hours-now.html or http://science.nasa.gov/science-news/science-at-nasa/2010/17dec_solsticeeclipse/

But there are other sites as well, most comparing the event to the Mayan calendar and the 'end of the world.'

Since time immemorial, the white hart has been a creature surrounded by mystery, a beast whose very existence is suffused with myth and legend. To the ancient Britons, the white hart was a harbinger of doom - but to modern Britons it supposedly brings good luck. White stags, or white hart, were potent, magical figures, closely associated with unicorns. The Celts considered them to be messengers from the other world. In Arthurian legend, the stag is a creature that can never be caught. Holyrood in Edinburgh – not to mention the White Hart pub in the capital, were named after a Scots legend. In 1128, David I, King of Scotland, saw a huge white hart while hunting, and The White Hart Inn in the Grassmarket, Edinburgh, reputedly the oldest pub in the city, took its name from the legend. A white stag, or white hart, is said to appear near Brodick Castle when one of the Hamilton chiefs dies, to herald him to the other side. In the 1960s there was a famous white stag on the island of Arran and a white hind was spotted a few years ago in Ross-shire. To know more:

http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/news/environment/article3353380.ece or http://forums.canadiancontent.net/news/71378-how-magical-white-hart-inspires.html