And hold you right where you belong.
'Til the day my life is through;
This I promise you.
Five days had passed since the battle at the Ministry. It was only now, standing outside an old, abandoned building, waiting for Harry, that Hermione let her thoughts wander. Fred wouldn't be the same without George, Ginny's emotional damage would haunt her for the rest of her life, and Bill and Fleur's young daughter, Ella, would grow up without a mother. She shook her head and sighed. She didn't want to think about death, she wanted to think about life, but it was hard. She wasn't used to having so many people here one minute and then gone the next. She felt guilty for having survived, while they had all struggled and eventually surrendered their lives so that Harry could save both the Wizarding and Muggle worlds. Had she been a different person, she knew that she wouldn't have had the strength to accompany him to the end; she didn't even know if she had the strength now. A small part of her wanted to turn and run away, become the coward that she knew was hiding somewhere inside of her soul, but she didn't. Instead, she planted her feet firmly on the ground and continued to wait for Harry.
Instead of letting her thoughts wander again, however, Hermione began to take in her surroundings. Harry had told her to meet him outside of an old building in the outskirts of London. She was standing in a darkened alleyway. Behind her, the building loomed out of the shadows, making the alley seem more eerie than it already was. The walls were filthy, riddled with various graffiti and pictures of rude gestures, though they were barely visible since they were covered in a thin layer of dirt and grime. A rat scurried in front of her, probably searching for food. The moon glowed in the sky, making the alley glow with a surreal beauty that Hermione had not seen in years. That same small part of her that wanted to run away was advising her to leave the alley and tell Harry that she couldn’t make it. Heaven only knew what could be lurking in the shadows. For all Hermione knew, Greyback and his fellow Death Eaters were watching her from hiding places, concealed by darkness. But she didn’t make a move to leave; she couldn’t do that to Harry, even if she was becoming more scared with every moment that passed. She wouldn’t let her paranoia get the better of her. Over the years, she had learned to expect the worst, but now that everything was almost over, she found herself wishing that her pessimistic outlook on life would vanish.
Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione noticed a shadow slowly moving closer to her. Her heart immediately began to pound in her chest as she moved closer to the brick wall behind her, searching absently for some sort of cover. Her grip tightened on her wand as the shadow inched its way closer to her hiding spot and she raised her wand arm, readying herself for the various scenarios that were running through her mind. She mentally formulated the amount of time that it would take the shadow to reach her. If she made a run for it, they would surely catch her, or throw a curse at her. If she disapparated, they would know that someone had been here, and keep the place under close surveillance; her choices were limited.
The figure stopped within feet of her and, had she not chosen to conceal herself in the shadows, she would be able to see the face of the person who was causing her heart to thud rather loudly against her chest. She could hear her blood pounding in her ears and she was surprised that whoever was standing before her couldn’t hear it as well. She knew that the person was a man; she could tell from his body shape and the way he carried himself. In fact, he seemed quite familiar. He slowly began to turn around and Hermione stiffened. Surely, he would see her. Though she was concealed, the shadows weren’t nearly enough to hide her entirely. Had she had more time to hide herself, she would have found a way to go into the abandoned building, or she would have apparated to safety, however risky it may have been.
She let out her breath and moved out of the shadows once she saw the person who had caused her heart to throb wildly. Her heartbeat became normal and her breathing regained its steadiness.
The figure smiled as she ran up to it and wrapped her arms around his neck, muttering into his ear, “Harry, don’t ever scare me like that again.”
She dropped her arms to her side as Harry shook his head. “I wasn’t sure if you were going to come, Hermione,” he said. “I had to be careful.”
She placed her hands on her hips and smiled; her first smile in days. “I know, Harry. I know.” She glanced around the alley once more before speaking again. “Why did you want to meet here, of all places? I had assumed that we would meet in a public place; it would have been safer.”
Harry shook his head. “Not necessarily. No where is safe anymore, Hermione. You know that. I wanted to meet here because I know that no one uses this building.” He motioned to the building behind Hermione. “I’ve been watching it for the past few days. It was the safest place I could think of on such a short notice.”
Hermione nodded but she didn’t speak. She instead watched as Harry pulled out his wand, aimed it at the building and muttered a few words. The large bricks on the wall faded away, revealing a large wooden door. Harry pointed his wand at the door and again murmured words that were inaudible to Hermione. The door opened quietly, revealing a dark, empty room, occupied only by a lone, black rat.
Harry stepped inside and motioned for Hermione to follow. Not wanting to be in the alley for any longer, she quickly obliged. He walked toward yet another door and entered, leaving Hermione in the company of the rat. She followed him and gasped in awe at the sight that was now before her eyes.
Instead of emptiness and darkness, like in the other room, this room was bright and welcoming. A set of five glowing candles had been placed on a small table in the middle of the room. Tapestries covered the windows of the room, so natural light couldn’t enter. A small rug had been placed on the floor and two raggedy looking armchairs were facing an old fireplace. By no means was this room beautiful, but Hermione managed to find comfort in the small amount of normalcy that it gave off.
Harry, who had taken a seat in one of the armchairs, sat facing the small fire that was beginning to glow in the dusty fireplace. He didn’t look up when Hermione sat in the chair beside him, but instead began to speak. “Luna and Ron have already left.”
Hermione nodded again, but didn’t speak. She knew that he had more to say.
“They’re going up north to look for Yaxley. Lupin thinks that he went to stay with relatives who own a small pub outside of Glasgow. Luna is going to pose as a poor witch looking for a job. Ron will be searching the city for Travers. We think that the two left together, but we don’t know whether or not they split up, once they reached the city.”
Hermione fought the urge to ask Harry who ‘we’ was, and kept her eyes focused on him. The war hadn’t been kind to him and with everyday, Hermione was forced to notice how much older and mature he looked. She missed the boy whom she would help with homework because he had slacked off due to Quidditch practice. She wanted that boy back, but she knew it wouldn’t happen. Harry had been forced to stop the most powerful dark wizard in the world; he had had no time to be immature. Now, when she looked at him, she saw a man who had seen enough of the world. His face was hard and cold and he spoke with a voice that didn’t sound like his own. She didn’t know if she could ever get used to this new Harry. She didn’t know if she wanted to.
“Ron will be reporting back to Lupin weekly.”
Hermione frowned. “Lupin? Why is he reporting to Lupin? Why isn’t he reporting back to you?”
“I’ll be busy,” he said firmly.
Hermione raised her eyebrows questioningly. “And what exactly will you be busy with?”
Harry looked at her and Hermione could have sworn that she saw a glimpse of that boy whom she missed so dearly. “We’re going after Greyback personally. Lupin thinks that he can lead us to more supporters of Voldemort who didn’t take part in the battle. If we can stop him, we might be able to stop them all.”