Saving your life

What was he doing locking her up in that library to go talk to his Master? What if someone had just walked in? The last two times she’d been face to face with Death Eaters she’d almost gotten herself killed.

Of course, he had been there to save her both times. Was it just coincidence? No, what was she thinking? He had helped her, he still was, and he was helping the Order, helping her friends, even if they didn’t know.

She had spent almost two entire days with him. When he had told her he was leaving, and that she was going with him, she had thought, foolishly she now told herself, that maybe it was a chance to get to know him better. God knew she had tried.

He was just impossible, she should’ve known. After being so warm and caring one night he had changed back to the man she’d known all those years. Maybe he had a thing for being the saviour of helpless women or something; as soon as she was able to take care of herself, he had gone back to being cold and indifferent.

He had made her walk for almost an hour through a forest. She had been stung and bit by insects, had gotten her clothes full of mud and had tripped at least three times, and she could have sworn she heard him chuckle every one of them. He hadn’t even offered to help her. He had told her they hadn’t Apparated closer to the house for security reasons, but that didn’t make her any happier about it.

The house was lovely on the inside, and the bedroom very comfortable, but once she got a good look at the library, she knew she’d spend most of the time in there. That is, when she wasn’t too busy trying to get to know him, of course.

First attempt, just a few minutes after their arrival, in the kitchen. He had even offered her sandwiches and started some light conversation, but closed ranks when it drifted to more serious subjects. Hell, he had taken the first chance he had to up and leave.

That night they had gone into the forest, looking for that flower he needed. He’d told her the truth, it was rare, and incredibly hard to find, and so she was sure he wouldn’t be suspicious when she went back, after hours out there, with only one in her hands. She had seen a few more, but he had said they would go back to London once he got all five of them, and she needed more time.

Second attempt, how about a new approach? Not able to sleep, she had entered the library, and was most concentrated on an incredibly interesting transfiguration book when he walked in.

She tried being honest with him, telling him the reason she couldn’t sleep, and he had tried to comfort her, telling her why she shouldn’t be worried about Malfoy, but that was about all she got out of him that night. She was aware, however, of him staring at her when he thought she wasn’t looking. She felt herself go red when she noticed her robe was partially open, leaving most of her bare legs in plain view.

Even after they both left the library and went to their respective bedrooms, she just kept rolling in bed, getting nightmares every time she dozed off.
Shortly after sunrise, she had given up on her efforts to get some rest and gone back to the kitchen. She enjoyed cooking, even if she didn’t get to do it very often. She had made a big breakfast and offered him some as he walked in. What she didn’t expect was the feeling she got when their fingers touched. Her skin tingled, but in a good way, and by the way he was looking at her, he had felt something too.

Attempt number…well, who’s really counting? After that feeling, curiosity got the best of her, and she started “accidentally” bumping into him whenever she had the chance, to see if they would feel it again. They did, every single time. She had never felt anything like it before, and she didn’t really know why it was happening now.

That night, of course, they went back into the forest. This time numbers were against her. They had found two flowers the night before, and she walked through the forest once more, picking only one of them. She hadn’t gotten much out of him that day, but still, another try wouldn’t hurt, she thought to herself. She had to hide her disappointment when, after hours of looking, he walked back inside the house having found the other two he needed.

A loud knock on the library door brought her back to reality. He had told her he would lock her in magically, but what if someone broke the spell before he got back? She took out her wand, even when she knew it wouldn’t be much help if they entered.
She saw the door shake, and took a step back, frightened. She tripped on the table and fell to the floor, many of the books falling loudly with her.

They had clearly heard that, for they started yelling, asking who was there, and threw even more spells at the door, trying to get it open.

She got up and backed against the opposite wall when she finally saw the door open, but once again, it was Snape, helping her in the last minute. He grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the library. The others were looking at them, but no one did anything to stop him.

On the way out, when she was finally feeling relieved she would be leaving that place; he opened a door and pulled her inside a room.
His plans were crazy, how would she ever get her friends to go to Grimmauld Place knowing they were going to be attacked? More importantly, how would she get them to believe her when she couldn’t even tell them were the information had come from?
While she was listening to him part of her thoughts started drifting in a completely different direction. The room was so small they were almost touching, she could even smell him, and gods, he smelled good. Knowing the charm he had put on the door she saw her chance, after days of feeling that tingle at his touch, to get something more, and she took it without hesitation.

That time had felt more intense than the ones before, more real. It was better than she remembered, but as everything else, it had to end.

When they finally left and Apparated near Diagon Alley again, he hurriedly gave her a piece of parchment, just like the one they’d used before, and told her to just write on it if she needed anything from him. They would be meeting at Grimmauld Place in just five days.


The moment she opened the door to headquarters and stepped inside, she was buried under at least three pairs of arms, all hugging her.

“Hermione, are you all right?”

“You had us so worried, leaving like that.”

“Almost three days and not even an owl!”

“Please, I can’t breathe,” she finally said, and they took a step away from her to give her some room, falling silent but still with worried looks on their faces.

“I have something important to tell you, is everyone here?” she asked, looking around.

“Most of the members. What is it, Hermione?” Harry asked, looking at her in slight confusion.

“I’ll tell you as soon as we’re all together,” she promised as she walked inside the kitchen.

The truth was she had no idea how she was going to tell them what she had to, and how she would explain where the information had come from, but there wasn’t much time to think, she’d just have to improvise.


They were all sitting by the kitchen table and looking at her. They were making her nervous.

“We might have a chance to trap many Death Eaters, but there’s not much time,” she finally said, cutting to the chase. She looked around and saw they were still looking at her intently. No one interrupted.

“They think we’re going back to our old headquarters, and are setting up a plan to attack us there, but now we know it, we will be ready for them, we could lure them into a trap.”

“How do you know this?” Harry asked, but it was clearly the question everyone had in mind

“That doesn’t matter, you’ll have to trust me; after all, I was right about that Auror passing information, wasn’t I?”

Silence filled the room, as they thought about the news.

“That’s a lot you’re asking, telling us to go into a house and wait for Death Eaters to attack,” someone said, she wasn’t sure who did.

“I know, but we can do it. We just have to be careful. It might be our best chance to weaken the enemy.”

They looked at each other, still not saying anything but some of them nodding their heads in agreement.

“We have five days to get ready,” she said, “We have to start now.”

A few more seconds passed before Lupin finally got up and said “Then I should call the rest of the Order, and arrange a meeting for tonight.”

“Thank you,” she said, relieved at their response, as she got up, grabbed her bag and walked up to her bedroom.

She had barely left the bag on the bed and started to the bathroom when she heard a knock on her door. Harry and Ron walked in as she opened and sat down on her bed, looking at her.

“What’s going on?” she asked, too tired to be polite.

“Well, that’s what we’d like to know.”

“Yeah, you’ve been acting strange for some time now. What is it?”

“There’s nothing wrong, guys, I just have too many things in my mind right now.”

“Come on, Hermione. First, just when we’re about to leave for Godric’s Hollow you ask us to stay, you give us no explanation but still we do. Then you tell us about that Auror working for Voldemort, turns out you were right, and still you wouldn’t tell us how you found out, and now this…” Harry said. His voice sounded hurt.

“I know, and I’m really sorry, but that’s just the way it is, I can’t tell you anything else.”

“And that’s not all,” Ron interrupted “you’ve been avoiding us for days now; you hardly talk to anyone here, and spend most of your time sitting up in the library or in your bedroom. You can trust us, you know? We’re worried about you.”

“I promise I will tell you everything, when the time comes, you’ll be the first to know; but right now I can’t. I’m sorry, but you know me well enough to know I’m serious.”

Harry opened his mouth to retort, starting to look annoyed, but Ron spoke first.

“OK”

They both looked at him, surprised but he just continued.

“It’s Hermione, Harry. If she says she can’t tell us anything else, then I believe her, and so should you. We’ll know everything when she’s ready to tell us.”

“Thank you, Ron,” she muttered, a look of gratitude on her face.

A few months ago, it looked like things had slowly started to happen between her and Ron, but then Dumbledore died, and everything changed, and they decided they would keep their relationship like always for the time being; there were more important things they needed to do. They hadn’t even talked much about it; it was more like an unspoken agreement. Still, she couldn’t help but notice his attitude towards her had changed. They didn’t fight so much, and he was nice and comprehensive when she least expected him to, like that very moment.

“You’re right. We should go back downstairs; get everything ready for the meeting tonight. You should get some rest, Hermione, you look tired.”

“I am. I’ll see you later,” she said, as they left the room.