“Remember, Hermy, be a good girl, stay out of trouble and play nice with the other children…” Ron teased Hermione as he and Harry walked her to Platform 9¾ on September the first. He had gone without getting her the owl (thankfully, he’d made no promises in advance and she couldn’t be angry at him for not buying her one), but Harry had managed to talk to Kingsley and was able to get out of work in order to send Hermione off. Ron, well, he worked at Weasleys Wizard Wheezes these days and could very well get time off as he wished, it being a family establishment.

“Psh, you’re not one to talk, Ronald Weasley!” Hermione huffed playfully with a grin on her face and Harry shook his head, feeling more and more like a third wheel than before. As much as he felt it was (sometimes nauseatingly) sweet that his friends still did their friendly-bickering-slash-flirting, it didn’t half make him feel uncomfortable when they did so in his presence, much less when they did it in excess.

Maybe I shouldn’t have come, he mused to himself.

“Would you like me to stay behind between Platforms 9 and 10 while you two go through the barrier and snog yourselves silly between the pillars without me watching?” he teased, earning himself a tight slap on the arm from Hermione, although she giggled as she did so.

“You know, that’s a handy spell you used there, ‘Mione,” Ron swiftly changed the subject, his ears already glowing from the slight mention of any form of public displays of affection. “That one you used to shrink your things or expand your bag or whatever,” Indeed, Hermione had managed to put all her school things, clothes as well as other necessities into a single sling bag. “And how come you didn’t bring Crookshanks with you?”

“He’s very fond of my parents’ house. I brought him there when I went to visit. He liked it so much that he decided to stay. I’m sure my parents take good care of him…” Hermione trailed off, a bit choked up. She tried to brighten as she gave her book bag a little shake, practically causing an earthquake within it. “And this isn’t even that much heavier than normal,” Hermione gushed, grinning widely. “I can’t believe I managed to fit all my stuff into it!”

“But you were able to fit so much junk in that little beaded bag of yours! So what’s to say you can’t do it with this one?” Harry reminded her, chuckling. She jokingly punched him yet again.

However, things weren’t very light-hearted as they neared the platforms. Something seemed amiss. There was an abnormally big crowd of people milling around and they clearly weren’t there to take the Muggle trains; both had arrived and no one from the crowd seemed to be paying attention to either. Adults seemed to be arguing with each other and between them, teenagers paced back and forth restlessly; some looked worried, others simply looked bored and annoyed.

“What’s all this about?” Harry wondered out loud. His friends simply shrugged as they pushed through the throng to find somebody they knew.

“Harry! Ron! Hermione!” they heard a familiar voice call out to them. They noticed Luna Lovegood running in their direction. “Something’s wrong with the barrier!”

“What?!” all three of them exclaimed.

“Where’s Ginny?” Ron asked abruptly. His sister had insisted on travelling on her own to the train station that morning due to a little argument she’d had with Mrs Weasley about independence. Ron still knew (and was even briefly reminded before he left) that it was his little responsibility to make sure she got on the train safely.

“How can there be something wrong with the barrier? What’s happening?” Hermione squeaked, hyperventilating.

“Ginny’s with me, Ron… and I don’t know,” Luna said, completely out of her characteristically calm demeanor. “It’s like it’s sealed itself for some reason. It won’t let anybody through. Almost everybody here’s tried it.”

“There can’t be and shouldn’t be any more house-elves toying with it,” Ron whispered to Harry. “You’re not even in danger anymore…”

“Good Merlin,” Hermione wasn’t listening to them. Instead, she was fighting her way to the brick wall that constituted the barrier to Platform 9¾. She pressed her hand against it and surely enough, it felt as solid and cold as it looked. “This can’t be happening!”

She continued hitting at the stone wall until Ron went over and led her away, holding her shoulders and rubbing her back. She was becoming more and more hysterical.

“’scuse me, folks, what’s all the commotion here?” a few train conductors had come over, wondering why such a large group of people had gathered outside their trains and yet, nobody was going aboard. Hermione noticed that all of them had added a badge of some sort to their usually plain uniforms; a black circle with an alternating grey checkered pattern for a border, and two red horizontal lines sliced by a single vertical one. She recognised no such symbol.

A worried-looking old woman rushed forward to the man, hurriedly showing him her ticket. She had a little girl with her, no older than eleven, and Harry highly suspected that she was a Muggle parent. Who else would blatantly show a magical train ticket to Muggles? One of the conductors caught sight of it and paused for a moment, turning around to speak into a device Ron couldn’t distinguish.

“What d’you reckon’s that black box he’s talking into?” Ron mumbled.

“That’s a walkie-talkie,” Hermione replied absentmindedly and slightly irritably before Harry had a chance to open his mouth. She was straining her ears to listen in on what the conductor was saying. She couldn’t discern anything, though, and before she knew it, he had turned around to face the crowd.

“Is everybody here headed for Platform…9¾?” he asked, a little too nonchalantly for Harry’s liking. Something about his tone put him off.

When most of the people nodded, the men dropped their cheerful deportment, and mayhem consumed the playing field with a vengeance. Suddenly people were screaming, trying to get away as the “conductors” called for backup, rounding up as many witches and wizards – actually, they didn’t even care if they were magic or Muggle, they took everyone – as they possible could. Harry, Ron and Hermione were near the back, and they tried to run in the opposite direction upon first instinct, only to realise that more “conductors” were racing towards them.

“We’re bloody history!” Ron yelped.

“No, we’re not! Not if I have anything to say about it! Quick, behind the pillar!” Hermione ordered, ducking out of the way of knocking into one very fat man. “Harry, we need the Invisibility Cloak! Now!”

It was right then that Harry thanked Merlin that he had decided to bring his Cloak. He took it everywhere with him as a precaution, but he was still very relieved.

With much difficulty, seeing as all of them had fully grown, Harry, Ron and Hermione squeezed beneath the Invisibility Cloak. Hermione muttered a spell that made their feet undetectable, if only for a short period of time. They began to run, essentially playing a very rough version of hide-and-seek with Norsefire personnel, who had pulled weapons out to subdue the multitude. They managed to escape the train station, although they refused to remove the Cloak until they were a good few yards away and had ducked into an alley for cover. Panting from the exertion and trying to recover from the immense shock, they slid the watery material off and Hermione mumbled the spell to counteract the concealment charm she had cast on their feet. They stayed there for a moment, catching their breaths.

“We’ve got to go back,” Ron said determinedly. “We’ve got to find Ginny! And Luna!”

“Ron’s right,” Harry responded with gritted teeth. Where would these people take them? What would they do to them? Horrible thoughts raced through his mind at the very contemplation. “We’ve got to.”

“No, we can’t!” Hermione interjected before Ron could agree further. She grabbed onto the collars of her friends’ shirts and held them back.

“’Mione, she’s my sister! She’s one of your best friends!” Ron yelled at her, spinning around to glare at his girlfriend. “Are you just going to leave her to get captured by these brutes?”

“Tell me, Ronald, exactly what happens when the three of us go back there. Go on, tell me,” Hermione’s voice had gone dangerously low. “You can’t? Then let me spell it out to you. They’ll take us too, don’t you see? They’re in with Norsefire.”

“What in the bloody hell are you on about?”

“Open your eyes and look around you, for Merlin’s sake!” Hermione nearly shrieked. “Look out the alley and you’ll know! The symbols on their badges! It’s Norsefire’s emblem. You’re forgetting, Ronald, that we’re in London, the hub of this campaign. They’ll catch us, Ron. And then what use would we be to Ginny and Luna? They can’t escape, neither can we.”

“So you’d rather let them be rounded up like animals, is that it?” Harry asked coldly.

“Harry James Potter, I can’t believe you’d even insinuate that!” Hermione was close to tears at that point. She glared daggers at him. “Of course I don’t want them in that state! But you’ve got to be sensible! We’re no use to Ginny or Luna when we’re locked up with them!”

“So you tell me the alternative. Are we supposed to fight this campaign or something? Are you comparing this with Voldemort?” Harry let out a hollow laugh. He had no idea that it pierced Hermione right in her heart. “Somehow, ‘Mione, that just doesn’t seem plausible. Not from what you’ve explained. Right now, I’d trade this for Voldemort.”

Hermione nearly ripped her hair out of her scalp in frustration, bawling right then. She was losing her composure. Ron was rubbing her back, trying to calm her down.

“Will you bloody well stop thinking about that? This isn’t about you anymore, Harry! And stop living in a damned fantasy world! Voldemort’s gone and this is a new war!” she finally burst out, catching both her friends by surprise. She took a deep, shaky breath before continuing, “I can’t believe you even have the audacity to question my reasoning when yours is even more unfounded. You’re not thinking, are you? Look at the long-term effects, Harry. Don’t just act with your brain stuck in your arse! That’s always been your bloody problem!”

Harry’s eyes flashed madly and he looked about ready to retort with something nasty, when Ron held his hand up to stop him. He’d had enough.

“Look guys,” he said in an almost-businesslike tone, “as much as I want to go back in to find Ginny and Luna – I mean it was my big bloody mouth that even suggested that in the first place – I think Hermione’s right. Let’s just go find a place somewhere and sit down, all right? Maybe we can cool off a bit and we can attack from there.”

Nobody had expected Ron to play peacekeeper, but they all agreed on his arrangement anyway. Neither Harry nor Hermione had the strength nor will to fight it out at the moment; they were simply too overwhelmed. Hermione led them out of the alley and down the crowded street, where they slipped into a small roadside café. She ordered for them and sat with her head in her hands, her shoulders still slightly unsteady. She slowly rubbed her temples with her thumbs in the process. Even as the waitress brought back their order of two coffees and a cup of tea, none of them spoke a word. Ron was absently playing with the cream and sugar holder while Harry drummed his fingers on the smooth wood of the table, reading a menu that had been placed on the wall behind Hermione.

“’Mione…” he said after awhile, his voice sounding terribly apologetic.

“It’s okay, Harry,” she replied, although the intonation of her voice suggested that she was still brooding over it. “Just…don’t bring it up again, all right?”

She wouldn’t even look at him when she talked. It honestly gripped at Harry’s feelings, but he didn’t say anything about it. Ron had shut up entirely, seemingly ignoring the both of them.

That was the way it was as they drank their fill, occasionally glancing around them at the people that went in and out of the café. Hermione opened her bag and began shifting things in it, and it sounded as though somebody was moving heavy cargo in there. She finally found what she was looking for: a hardcover book that had the words “The Nature of Fascism (Themes in Right-wing Politics & Ideology)” splashed across the front. She leaned back in her seat and quietly read to herself, with Harry and Ron in bemusement.

Hermione saw it pointless to even try to get to Hogwarts and just let the morning pass her by. After all, it wasn’t as though there would be people there. How would the teachers conduct lessons anyway? Surely they knew about the ambush at the train station.

“Well, some people Apparate to Hogsmeade, then walk to the castle, I suppose. You could do that,” Ron suggested as they left the café at ten past twelve. They had stayed there for a long time while she read a few chapters of her book.

“All the same, I think I’ll forego Hogwarts and N.E.W.T.s for another year,” Hermione replied. “I’d very much like to focus on finding Ginny and Luna. Believe it or not, I’m still a person with feelings.”

The very mention of his sister stiffened Ron’s shoulder. However, he tried to hide it. Harry remained silent, although it was clear that he was thinking the same thing Ron was. Hermione still wasn’t speaking to him properly and it painfully reminded him of his first year when they simply just weren’t friends. However, that last bit of speech annoyed him too. He wasn’t blaming her on purpose and yet she still felt the need to make it seem that way. Still, he knew that saying anything offensive would just completely destroy everything once again and he would be stuck with Ron, trying to find a way to speak to their tough cookie of a best friend.

“But your parents…”

“I know what my parents want, Ron,” Hermione said resolutely. “But running and hiding won’t solve anything.”

Her words were soaked in irrevocability and Ron chose not to argue. Instead, he turned his attention to Harry.

“Just apologise to her, mate,” he whispered as the two lagged behind. Hermione had wandered into a bookstore and was looking at titles such as “A History of Fascism” and “Fascist Italy and Nazi Germany: The Fascist Style of Rule”.

“She won’t even let me, damn it!” Harry grumbled, rocking back and forth on the balls and tips of his feet. “If she wasn’t so bloody stubborn, I’d’ve said sorry right at the café.”

“This is Hermione we’re talking about! She’ll come through, but you’ve still got to make the first move and apologise. I’ve learnt the hard way not doing that from the start,” Ron shrugged, looking through a few Muggle comic books with names that fascinated him; “Superman” and “Spiderman” were among the lot.

Harry still didn’t think Ron “learning the hard way” was good enough reason for him to give him advice; therefore, he chose not to respond. Instead he said, “I have to send a message to Kingsley to tell him I can’t go back to work just yet. I have a feeling this is yet another adventure,” he said bitterly.

“Don’t be too hard on yourself, mate. It’s not your fault,” Ron patted him on the back.

“Ready to leave?” Hermione had suddenly come up behind them, a pile of books in hand. “Are you buying that, Ron?” she pointed to the issue of Wonder Woman he had in his hand, smirking slightly. He blushed scarlet and practically tossed the copy back onto the rack. Hermione smiled more broadly, “Didn’t think so.”

They paid for her tomes and stepped out on the street again. Harry whispered to her that he needed to send something to Kingsley and Hermione merely nodded in reply. She was being less cold to him already, however her behaviour was still disconcerting. Together with Ron, she followed Harry him down another alley and once the coast was clear, he Conjured his stag Patronus and gave it a message to relay to Kingsley.

“Now that’s done, do you two want to go home?” Hermione asked. “I’ll need some time to do some research on the right-wing movement before I can understand it…”

“I doubt going home will make us feel any better,” Harry admitted, thinking of the reaction Mrs Weasley would have when she found out that her youngest child had gone missing. “We’ll stay at the Leaky Cauldron; it’s right here in London. Makes for easy access of the place.”

They made their way to the pub on Charing Cross Road, renting rooms. Tom the innkeeper had asked them several times how long they wished to stay, but nobody could give him an actual date for they truly had no idea how long it would take to locate Ginny and Luna. Tom was very kind to them, offering to let them stay as long as they like.

However, Hermione thought otherwise. “We’ll give it two weeks,” she spoke up. She then lowered her voice to a murmur as she turned to Harry and Ron, “We can’t really ask for anything more. Keeping Tom from renting out even two rooms costs him business. We can always extend our stay if necessary.”

They nodded in response and split the cost of the rooms, paying up front. Harry was happy that they’d picked the Leaky Cauldron as their lodge for he seriously needed to head to Gringotts to refill his money bag anyway; it was partly the reason he suggested the place. The three friends made a short trip to Diagon Alley, and they even stopped at Eeylops Owl Emporium to pick out an owl for Hermione, although she had grown reluctant of owning one.

“I highly doubt I can carry her around,” she said doubtfully, admiring the beautiful tawny owl in a cage outside the shop. “We might be moving around a lot, you know…”

“But you said you wanted an owl!” Ron cried out indignantly. “Please don’t tell me we’ve made this trip here for nothing.”

“Yes, I know I said that Ronald. But think about it sensibly.”

There she goes again, Harry thought amusedly. Hermione was always playing Queen Rational.

She did indeed decline to buy the owl, but it didn’t stop the three of them from wandering around the rest of Diagon Alley. They stopped for ice creams at the new shop that replaced Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour before the boys went off to Quality Quidditch Supplies while Hermione busied herself at Flourish and Blotts – although none of them could enter either shop as they were eating. It honestly felt good to return to Diagon Alley, and yet it also felt a bit sad. No longer did Harry have to stop by Madam Malkin’s to get his school robes refitted in light of his growth spurts, nor did he have to buy new (and sometimes dangerous) textbooks to prepare for a year at Hogwarts. Even visiting the smelly Apothecary was a bit welcoming as it was where he went to replenish his potion ingredient supplies. Harry didn’t tell this to his friends, but he’d been unable to actually properly look at Eeylops, as in the window was the display of beautiful snowy owls that reminded him too much of Hedwig…

“Harry, are you done eating? I want to go in,” Ron interrupted his thoughts.

The two boys spent awhile catching up on the comings and goings in the Quidditch world with the store clerk in Quality Quidditch Supplies, then met Hermione outside. They went to visit George at Weasleys Wizard Wheezes.

“Where have you been all day?” George asked Ron, shaking his head with a cheeky look on his face. All four of them retreated to his back office. “You are still working for me, right? And Granger, I thought you were on your way back to Hogwarts. Why the sudden change of mind?”

“With you, not for you!” Ron defended himself, causing everybody to snicker at his childish acrimony. “Haven’t you heard by now? People were intercepted between Platforms 9 and 10. People were being abducted and…”

All laughter stopped at once.

“What?!” George dropped several Skiving Snackboxes in shock. “Have you told Mum and Dad? Where’s Ginny?!”

Harry, Ron and Hermione continued to be silent. Their shuffling and nervous tugging of sleeves spoke more than enough.

“Maybe visiting wasn’t such a good idea,” Hermione whispered to Harry, who nodded as George collapsed into a seat. He stared at them good and proper, each of their relatively guilty faces. He seemed to try to decide if they were just pulling a terrible joke on him or not. When the truth finally sunk in, he buried his face in his hands.

“Look,” he started, running his fingers through his red hair, “I know none of you could’ve prevented them from taking her, so I hope I don't make it seem like I'm pinning all the blame on you. I just... I can't lose another sibling, okay? And Mum and Dad sure as hell can't go without another kid.”

“Don't worry, we’re not just letting this happen and not do anything about it,” Harry said, feeling a pang of sadness hit him as he remembered Fred. Realising how pompous he must’ve sounded though, he corrected himself, “I don’t mean to sound like I’m trying to be a hero here, but I’ve saved Ginny once, didn’t I? And I fought Voldemort and got rid of him. Who’s to say I can’t do all that again? It’s not as if I’ve gone rusty…”

“Are you barking mad, Harry? These blokes sound pretty dangerous!” George looked shocked that Harry even suggested going off on his own to find his friends.

Hermione sensed that Harry was just feeling even more guilt than he’d previously dared to show, and therefore wanted to make up for it. However she shook her head and wrapped her hands around Harry’s arm, gripping him tightly, all the same. She didn’t like the way he was talking. All this fake confidence sounded a lot more like a death wish to her, not some heroic creed.

“You’re not Superman, Harry,” she assured him gently. She heard George question Ron about who Superman was, but tuned out the rest of their quiet conversation. “But, you’ve got to know that this isn’t even playing with fire anymore. It’s sticking yourself in the entire oven-”

“I know that, ‘Mione…”

“No, you don’t,” she said firmly. “Harry, whatever this is, it isn’t as though we can wave our wands and make it go away. This new provisional government is dangerous and I fear…even more so than Voldemort ever was. They may have similarities in regimes, but Voldemort wasn’t cunning. Yes, he was a Slytherin and knew enough stealth to rise to power, but he wasn’t cunning enough. You don’t know the real wrath of Muggles, Harry. In fact, I fear that you underestimate them. You don’t know how they think and how they can be twisted and cruel. They can be more treacherous and terrible than you could ever imagine any wizard to be.”

Harry said nothing in response, instead choosing to mull over her words, letting them wash over him like a cold bucket of water had been dumped over his head.

A/N: Like I said before, this story is a mixture of media I’ve collated, which is why I’ve used the movie version of Norsefire’s symbol instead of the graphic novel version; it stands out more. The book names I’ve provided in the story are all references to real books that have been published before the timeframe the story is set in. As always, your feedback is very much loved and appreciated and I’ll be forever grateful if you could review :) Thanks for reading!