Early the next morning, Hermione headed downstairs, in her early-morning sleepiness completely forgetting about the strange light she’d seen near her door the night before.
Downstairs, the kitchen was quiet but busy with people packing things frantically into small bags that had to be magically enlarged on the inside, or they never would have fit anything near the amount of stuff being shoved into them. Shannon thrust a mug of tea into Hermione’s hands, which was steaming faintly and smelling of mint. When Hermione opened her mouth to thank her politely, Albert quickly shushed her and went back to the parchment he was frantically scrawling on, sending drops of ink spattering all over the table.
Hermione found some food in a cabinet, and retreated to the sitting room where she had sat in last night with Verity, who was currently busy in the kitchen. She ate neatly and quickly, and returned to the kitchen, which had calmed down a bit. Albert was whispering at the doorway with a man Hermione hadn’t seen before, and Miriam Strout was gathering up the bags which Verity and Shannon were stuffing things into.
“Time to go,” Albert said urgently, and handed Shannon the parchment he’d been writing on. “Shannon, take this. Verity, your objective is to get yourself and Hermione there safely.”
Verity rolled her eyes. “My objective? Whatever, never mind. Should I Apparate, or-“
“Forget it,” Albert said decisively, “Walk to Diagon Alley, Floo to the nearest point, then walk from there. The last thing we need now is to draw Ministry attention with Apparition traces; just ask Shannon.”
Verity nodded, and grabbed Hermione’s shoulder and walked out the door with her. They walked into the sunlight, and Hermione asked Verity, “Aren’t Shannon and Miriam coming with us? And can’t you tell me where we’re going?”
“Shannon’s coming, by a different route. She has a few stops to make first. Miriam isn’t coming. And do you really think I’d survive Albert’s wrath if I said anything on a public street about where we’re going?” Verity grinned at Hermione and imitated Albert’s mild accent. “In an unsecured place, no less! What were you thinking?”
Hermione would have answered but a sudden gesture from Verity stopped her. The two continued in wary silence through a succession of tiny streets and houses covered in peeling paint, until suddenly they were at the very edge of Diagon Alley. They went out through the archway into the Leaky Cauldron and walked through the pub, brushing past clusters of giggling witches, and one group of men in dark cloaks drinking something very strong-smelling right next to the fireplace. They made their way directly to the fireplace. Verity went first, saying to the emerald flames, “Half-Moon House!”
Hermione copied her and in a rush of swirling ashes she arrived, crashing into Verity as she fell out of the fireplace. Brushing soot out of her bushy hair, she got up and looked around. She was in the front hall of an ordinary-looking house, built and decorated Victorian-style. Hermione heard a soft knock on the door of the house. Verity strode over and demanded, “Who are you? What do you want?”
“Verity Stone, it’s Shannon Crabtree. The password you told me to say is Flame-Hurtling Crabpustles. Let me in quickly, these bags are unbelievably heavy.”
Verity opened the door carefully, her wand pointed at the opening and her eyes alert. Shannon staggered into the house, dumping all the bags she was carrying on the floor.
“Verity, you were supposed to carry some of these! Good job on finally remembering the right door-opening procedure- it sure took you a while. It could be really important, you know, don’t skip steps.”
Verity rolled her eyes, and helped Shannon carry the bags down the hall and dump them on the floor of a room empty except for a writing desk. Shannon and Verity went to the kitchen to eat a proper breakfast, while Hermione, who’d already eaten, sat at the table next to them picking at her fingernails.
The kitchen was a hot, stuffy room, piled with battered copper pots and stacks of china plates with chips all over the edges. The cabinets were dark mahogany with rusty handles. Hermione was about to ask where they were, but thought better of it, and was casting her mind about for a better conversation opener. Before she thought of a topic, a knock was heard on the door. Shannon rose to her feet, hastily swallowing a mouthful, and dashed out of the room. Hermione followed, just to see who it was. By the time she got there, Shannon was shutting the door behind a tall woman holding a shopping bag and a small boy. His face was buried in her shoulder, so only his floppy dark hair was visible.
The woman had long, silky black hair and a narrow, delicate face. She smiled with sincere, happy delight and hugged Shannon, managing not to crush the boy between them.
“Oh, Demetria, it’s good to see you! Hello, Theodore, are you awake?” The boy raised his head and grinned impishly at Shannon through his long black bangs. His eyes looked tired, and he kept yawning. Shannon grinned back at him and saw Hermione standing in the hall. “Hermione, this is my sister Demetria and her son Theodore. He’s the one who put the teddy bear in your room at the last place we were in. Remember?”
“Right, you told me about him.” Hermione smiled at the little boy, who was reaching toward Shannon and was transferred into her arms. Demetria smiled at Hermione and said, “So, you’re Hermione Granger? I heard you were coming. How’d you like Half-Moon House?”
Demetria talked almost as much as Shannon, though Shannon would probably win in a contest between the two. She kept talking for the next few minutes as they walked down the hall and into the kitchen, where they joined Verity.
They all talked about the latest in the Daily Prophet, a dementor attack in northern England. Demetria was very sweet and friendly, and Hermione liked her opinion of the news, which showed a clear grasp of the events and an interesting perspective on what she thought Voldemort was planning. Though Shannon kept disagreeing with her, Hermione thought she had made some good points.
A series of knocks echoed down the hall, and Verity, who’d finished her breakfast by this point, went to get it. Albert entered the room, along with a short blond man, who left some bags on the kitchen table and left the house out the back door. Albert greeted everyone and said to Demetria, “Ready to leave?”
Demetria’s smiling face instantly went serious, and she nodded. “Where am I going?” she asked.
“North of here, to Norfolk. I’ll give you more directions, and information you’ll need for the mission, just not in here. You should say goodbye first, if you like,” Albert said.
Demetria, her face still solemn, gently kissed Theodore goodbye where he was sitting on Shannon’s lap, and waved goodbye to the others. Theodore gave Shannon a sticky kiss and promptly fell fast asleep on her lap. She and Albert left the kitchen, and a few minutes later, they heard the front door slam and Albert came back in alone.
“So, Hermione,” he began, sitting down at the table, “you’ve been waiting a while, haven’t you?”
Hermione nodded, eager to start with all her questions. “Well, who called me, in the first place? To meet with you, I mean?”
Albert chuckled. “A man who serves a good drink, and that’s all I’m sayin’.”
Hermione frowned at this mysterious statement, and asked, “What do you mean?”
“Is there anything else I ought to tell you?” Albert said to himself, evasively. “Oh, yes. We are in Half-Moon House, south of London, which is rather inconveniently located, instead of Grimmauld Place. Didn’t a clever girl like you wonder about that?”
Stung, Hermione retorted, “No, actually, since I didn’t know where exactly we were, since we came by Floo. And why are you trying to distract me?”
Shannon giggled. “He just likes being mystifying, Hermione, don’t take it personally. Even to Order members he prefers speaking in puzzles.”
“Actually, your question is about something I can’t tell you- the man who called you is someone who is- well, it’s hard to explain without saying who he is, but he is unusual and if you don’t already know who he is, I can’t tell you. Don’t worry about it too much, for your own safety. You’ll meet him again, more than likely, and perhaps you’ll recognize him. Back to my other question- you know who owned Grimmauld?” Albert asked.
“Yes, Sirius Black did. But now he’s- Oh! So who owns the house now?” Hermione realized instantly, her eyes wide, what Albert was saying.
“I knew you’d figure it out. Sirius left everything he had, pretty much, to Harry. What we don’t know is if the house will go to him, or to Bellatrix, who is the next in line of the Black family.”
Hermione’s mouth fell open, too stunned for words. She could hardly grasp the enormity of problems that would arise for the order if a Death Eater owned their biggest headquarters, as well as the unfairness of Sirius’s murderer benefiting so much from his death.
Albert sighed, and said sadly, “It’s tough. Dumbledore said he’d know in a few weeks what’s up with that, but in the meantime we’re stuck in pathetic buildings that have no Fidelius Charm and we could be attacked any minute, or spied on somehow and all our plans revealed. It makes me really jittery, I can tell you. I almost know how poor Mad-Eye feels.”
They heard a loud ringing chime, and Albert said, “Someone’s at the fireplace, Flooing in.” He rose from his chair, but before he could go anywhere, Charlie Weasley entered the room.
“Hello, everyone!” Charlie said cheerfully. “Albert, what’s up? Got my orders? Oh, hello, Hermione, I didn’t know you were here!”
“Great, because you weren’t supposed to,” Albert muttered as Hermione greeted Ron’s older brother.
Charlie turned to Verity. “Here, Verity, I’ve got a message for you from the shop.” He handed her a roll of parchment which she carefully opened, scanned, then put back in her pocket.
“And who are you? Have we met?” Charlie asked Shannon. “Who is this fine young gentleman?”
Shannon smiled up at Charlie. “This is my nephew, Theodore. I’m Shannon Crabtree. I think I saw you once at the meeting at headquarters, at the end of last year. I wasn’t in the room for the main meeting, since I had to leave early for that little problem that came up in Scotland- I was part of the mission, so that’s why we didn’t meet there. But where were you before that? Are you a new member, then?”
Charlie laughed. “Quite the opposite, actually. I’m working in Romania, only came back here for the summer and early fall on a visit.”
Shannon looked amazed. “Then you’re Charlie Weasley!”
“Am I that famous?” Charlie asked, looking a bit confused.
“I’m an Auror, and I’m friends with a few people in the Magical Beast Division. They say you’re the best dragon-worker they have!”
“Well, that’s kind of them.”
“I have no doubt that you are, Mr. Weasley . And now that I think of it, I remember hearing someone say that you’re an excellent Quidditch player, too, and you won the match in the ministry two years ago, the one with the frog, the giant mushroom, and the beater’s bat. Were you involved in that little incident?”
Charlie blushed, his ears red. “Er, yeah, actually. It wasn’t on purpose, though. My team in Romania heard about it and wouldn’t stop teasing me for weeks.”
Albert interrupted them. “Charlie, I need you to come over here and get your instructions. If we don’t do it soon… there’ll be too many problems. Goodbye, all of you. Hermione, I’ll talk to you later today, if you don’t mind. Shannon, you can explain a little to her, if you like. I’ll be back in a minute.” He stood and walked toward the door of the kitchen.
Charlie bowed a farewell, and followed Albert out of the kitchen, the two whispering together.
Shannon smiled dreamily. “So that’s Charlie Weasley… I wondered if I’d ever meet him.”
Hermione grinned at her, recognizing the look on her face. She looked exactly like Ginny did when she was talking to Hermione about Harry. They sat quietly for a minute, Albert rejoining them in the kitchen.
The short break was broken when a loud bang was heard in the front of the house. Albert dashed to investigate, and as soon as he was gone, Hermione, who was looking out the back window, screamed.
A Death Eater was standing right outside, wand pointed straight at them.
Hermione's Summer by Leahr
Chapter Notes: Half-Moon street is a Sherlock Holmes joke- points to the house of anyone who knows what I'm talking about! I chose it because it doesn't exist in London, which is what ruined Watson's cover, since the baron knew London very well, almost as well as pottery...but this has nothing to do with the story. No connection with a certain Prince, and no connection whatever, believe it or not, with a certain pair of glasses. Read it and review it! I beg of thee!