Disclaimer: I own nothing. I'm sure you know the drill, the characters are not original, they belong to J.K. Rowling. The only part that is mine is the plot.
Please, tell me what you think. This was my first try at a fan fic. I received so much support that I finished it rather quickly. The reviews kept me going. Even with it finished I want to know what you think. I'm considering a sequel and with enough support I might just be pushed to begin writing sooner than expected.
Okay, last note I promise. The whole angel like aspects in here are not as corny as you might be inclined to think. It has nothing to do with actual angels and I don't really explore that aspect too much later on. So, please, if you're put off by the concept I create in the first few chapters, just keep with it and see how it evolves. I would love to jump right into the main plot, but with the way I'm taking things… I need to set it all up first. So, please, bear with the first few chapters… they're good, but may drag a little.
Chapter One
Fear Makes Us Human
Summer break after six years at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was upon the famous trio. The entire year had passed in a most peculiar manner. That is, nothing too dangerous or strange had happened. Of course it contained adventures and mischief making, but considering everyone was holding their breath and waiting for Voldemort to come charging out of the Forbidden Forest, it was uneventful.
By the end of their fourth term the tension that came with wondering what Voldemort was up to had eased. Even Dumbledore seemed to have relaxed slightly, though the wizened wizard was still constantly on guard.
The words of one wise auror, Mad-eye Moody, echoed in Hermione's ears, 'CONSTANT VIGILANCE!' The old auror's not so subtle approach to engraving the words into each person's head had worked.
It was that phrase that was murmured over repeatedly in the form of Hermione's conscience. Increasingly, she felt unease creep up on her when she parted with Harry and Ron at King's Cross.
Part of her wanted to whisper into Harry's ear, telling him to be careful, but such words would not be heeded with any extra respect, considering who he was and what he had been through already.
She frowned, looking back momentarily as she and her parents walked away. Her brows furrowed when she saw nothing but smiles on everyone's faces. Even Harry's face was alight with laughter, and he'd spent the better part of the year grieving over the loss of Sirius. Mrs. Weasley was hugging her precious children and beaming with joy at having them home for the holiday.
They too began to depart.
Not missing a stride she berated herself for not being more pleased at the moments of happiness they seemed to share. A light squeeze of her hand brought her back from her thoughts. It was her father, looking mildly concerned at his only daughter,
"Everything alright sweetie?" he asked still holding her hand while pushing her trolley toward the exit.
"Just fine." She smiled warmly.
He let her hand go, placing it back on the trolley's handle and continued chatting with her mother. Married for twenty years and they still managed to give off the aura of a newlywed couple.
Blinking her honey almond eyes, Hermione continued to observe and ponder over the year she had finished. It had started out rocky, with an uncomfortable awkwardness over Sirius' death. But seeing as how the death of loved ones was not new to Harry Potter, he was able to move on. The only difficult part Ron and Hermione played was convincing Harry that it wasn't his fault. What happened that fateful night at the Ministry was the fault of Voldemort and the Death Eaters.
Sighing as rain came down in harsh torrents, Hermione stood looking upwards into the grey gloomy sky. The water splashed her face, almost refreshingly.
"Hermione dear, get in the car, you'll catch your death out there," her mother said warmly from within the car they'd come in.
Before doing as her mother bid, she whispered under breath, "Something isn't right."
As they made there way along, passing block after block of busy city streets, Hermione watched all the muggles. Among these many people were probably a few witches and wizards, blending in inconspicuously, not being noticed for what they really were. It occurred to her that there was an entire world of magic of which so many knew nothing about.
She had also been totally unaware until she'd received her Hogwarts letter six years ago. Even with the Ministry's tight security it seemed unfathomable that she could have lived for eleven years and not known anything or even suspected.
Just what exactly would she have questioned thought? At eleven, witches and wizards were from fairytales, and her observant mind hadn't seen anything out of the ordinary in the way of magic.
Now that it was her life, now that magic was a part of her, it felt as though a life without it was no life at all. Only six years ago and she couldn't fathom a time so far away.
Perhaps a small part of her had known. How could it not have when she'd so easily accepted the possibility of magic existing?
She'd been in the sixth grade, a year ahead, and drove her teachers mad with questions. Yet, when she'd received her letter she focused her research on learning about the wizarding world, not whether it was at all possible. Such a major leap in belief and she'd made it with no hesitation. Surely that meant that she'd known on some subconscious level that there was magic in her veins.
She shook her head, tousling long golden brown curls. It had been difficult for her to keep her mind on the present lately. If she didn't focus then she might be taken off guard.
'Off guard,' she thought, 'by what?'
She bit her lip. She would go mad if she didn't find something to distract her and keep the fearful and apprehensive feelings at bay.
Unable to find her distraction and not willing to interrupt the pleasant atmosphere between her parents sitting in the front seats, Hermione was left to stare silently out the window for the rest of the ride home.
There was a war brewing, but no one seemed to understand it.
Hermione cast aside a copy of The Daily Prophet in slight disgust. Though she knew she wouldn't find what she was expecting she still read the paper daily looking for any article on He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.
For one thing, she couldn't suppress the feeling that Voldemort was going to start an attack out of the blue. For another, she had hoped that his return to power would have been important enough to continually remind everyone of the dangers.
It wasn't that she wanted the Minister of Magic, still Cornelius Fudge to the dismay of many, to scare people into a panic and paranoia, but she felt that people had become too comfortable and were starting to forget the eminent threat that was just as great as the day Voldemort had first resurfaced.
A cold plate of pancakes and a tall glass of orange juice sat untouched in front of her on the table. The house was quite, except for the whirring sound the washer was making in the laundry room. Her parents had some errands to run for the day. They wanted to have a special dinner that night, just the three of them, so they were getting a few extra things.
Sitting there at the table situated in a nook beside the kitchen, with tall windows letting warm rays of sunlight dance over her, she began to laugh. No one was there to see, but when she laughed as she did with the sun's rays angled just so, her face lit up beautifully.
Not knowing what was so funny, she just laughed. 'If Harry and Ron were here, they'd think I'd lost it,' she thought, wiping her eyes.
All these negative feelings over events she couldn't control, it wasn't like her. It was summer and she needed this long awaited break after a very tiresome year full of studying like crazy for her N.E.W.T. level classes. She would get dressed and go out, somewhere, anywhere. The book store most likely.
A hungry growl from her stomach let her know that the pancakes in front of her weren't going to eat themselves.
After she ate heartily, she cleaned up and headed toward her room to dress.
Twenty minutes later, Hermione was walking along the slightly crowded city streets, headed towards her favorite store. The store was called Frankie's. It was a bookstore, currently owned and run by her close friend Mia, the name of the place came from Mia's grandmother who was of course, Frankie.
For the past two years, Hermione seemed to have spent every free moment in that store, becoming good friends with the owner and even volunteering her time to help out on the busiest of days, which would be a day like today.
Even though it was the beginning of the summer break and the last thing most normal children did was go to a bookstore, it was a tourist season. People from all over came to their city, even their neighborhood, just passing by on their way to London. It was a nice place to be, totally muggle, quaint, but not in the boonies.
Yes, the summer was indeed a tourist season, but in recent years, that was all she had seen, not being home while things were settled down.
The trip was a short few blocks, not more than fifteen minutes at a brisk but light pace. Though Mia hadn't specifically asked for Hermione to come today, she had a hunch they might be in a sort of bunch. The newspaper, a local muggle one that is, had an article about a book signing for a fairly well known author. Of course Frankie's would be packed and Mia would be shorthanded as always, so Hermione would show up like she always did and relieve what stress she could from her thirty something year old companion.
Hardly caring to take any notice of the people around her as she walked, Hermione was unaware of the eyes that followed her. They had been watching since the moment she left her home and took note of every movement she made. Little did the mudblood know, but tonight was going to be a very interesting night indeed.
The flashing lights caught her attention, red-blue, red-blue. It was the revolving lights on a police car, parked just outside Frankie's. There was a crowd of people flooding into the streets and down the sidewalk. Mentally, Hermione prayed that the crowd had been there because of the signing and not as gawkers to some crime scene. Heart sinking as she began to jog over to the crowd, she knew it was most likely a mixture of both.
There was no ambulance, but she still felt no relief, since she might simply have come too late. Pushing her way through the crowd, rather forcibly a few times, she didn't care for manners in the face of her friend's possible injured state.
Hermione finally caught sight of a rather frazzled Mia, who sat unwillingly on the passenger seat of the policeman's car. The door was open and she sat with her feet out as one officer was questioning her, another officer was inside the store.
Sighing with relief, Hermione decided to lend a hand. Ignoring the obvious invisible barrier created by the edge of the crowd and police tape, she stepped forth.
Just as she drew the attention of the cop questioning Mia, she cleared her throat and called out, "Mia!"
Glad for the chance to stop sitting when she only felt like pacing and ranting, Mia stood up like she'd been electrocuted. Spinning around she looked over the hood of the car at the familiar voice. There came Hermione, the dear girl showing up when you least expected it with the profound ability to remedy any situation. Unfortunately this would not be the case today. Today, she had a little more trouble than a lack of staff to help on a busy day.
The officer stopped his questioning to allow the young brunette to come forward, since it was obvious she might be able to calm the frantic storeowner.
Mia wanted to break down from shot nerves, and just have a good cry, but before that she needed to confide a million details to Hermione, which she tried to do all at once.
Amazingly, from Officer Cody's perspective, the younger woman seemed able to keep up on the fragmented sentences and half thoughts spouted off by the owner. In what seemed like one breath, Mia started with, "Oh my god, Hermione you wouldn't believe… today was such a big day… and now… we needed this so badly, really we did… I mean, not that we're in danger of closing, but still, ya know… and then this bloody creep… a bum I tell you… those who can't earn their own money… he doesn't deserve the time of day… didn't get everything though… but now this mess… all these people… I'll never live it down… if my mother were here… I've never been more frightened in all my life," she ended with a sob before collapsing into Hermione's arms and crying on her shoulder.
This seemed like a rather odd image to the other officer coming out from the store, since the younger girl was not more than five foot five and of a rather slender build where as the owner, Miss Thatcher, was six foot and rather larger when compared to the other.
Escorting Mia back toward the car, Officer Cody took the hint to help her settle back to where she'd been sitting only a few minutes before. This time she sat crying, but oddly more calm.
Taking a deep breath, the young girl stood straight and turned to Cody, "Sir, I'm Hermione Granger." She extended her hand.
"Officer Cody," he replied, shaking her hand and gesturing to the woman behind him. "This is my partner Officer Tearnogh." Before he could even begin any inquisition about Hermione, the girl's brown eyes flashed with a small glint, there seemed to be a sharpness to them that had not been there during her brief consoling of Miss Thatcher.
"I'm a friend of Mia's. Am I to understand there was a…" She paused as if reflecting on the fragments of sentences Mia had muttered to her. "…robbery?"
Both officers stood side by side now, more than happy to deal with someone of a more stable emotional state at the moment. "Yes. Suspect is male, mid forties, five seven, two hundred pounds, black eyes, haggard appearance, ski mask. He accosted Miss Thatcher as she was setting up for the day, he managed to get what was in the register at the front counter, but made off right after. He was armed and held Miss Thatcher at gun point through out the confrontation."
Hermione nodded. "Was there any damage done to the store?"
Officer Tearnogh shook her head. "Nothing but a couple of displays knocked over, and the lost money of course."
"Right, well, today is a big day, isn't that right Mia?"
Mia had ceased crying at these words, and gulped giving a small nod. Her hand was taken by Hermione's as she knelt down in front of her and wiped the tears away. Squeezing her hand and looking directly into Mia's eyes, with such warmth and conviction that Mia felt all her troubles practically disappear, she said, "Now, everything is going to be fine. That guy isn't here anymore. The only guns around are those on the officers, and I assure you they won't be waving them around like maniacs. Everything is going to be fine."
"But the signing," Mia protested, coming back to her senses and responsibilities, while her dark eyes watered again.
Hermione gave one final squeeze of her hand and let go. Turning back to the officers she asked, "Does this scene need more processing? I mean, under these circumstances it's mainly witness' testimony that matters, right?"
Tearnogh quirked a brow at the behavior of Miss Granger. If she didn't know better she would have wondered if she was an officer herself, since her mind seemed to follow procedures. There was something about this Hermione. She couldn't place a finger on it. Maybe she was just a sharp one. Every person was different. It was silly to place stereotypes on all teenagers these days. Though, that's what might have been off about the girl, she didn't seem to be a teenager at all. It was the eyes, yes, that's what didn't seem to fit, her eyes. They conveyed an ageless wisdom at the moment.
Snapping from her short reverie Tearnogh answered, "No, this scene's been processed. We have the video feed, and nothing went much further than the entrance." She knew where the girl was going with this.
"So, everything is set? The store can open as planned?" she asked eagerly.
This made both officers smile. "I don't see why not," answered Cody. Both partners were of the same mind and had the same thought as they watched Miss Granger usher Miss Thatcher inside.
Tearnogh smiled at Cody. "I think we've just found our candidate."
Cody chuckled. "Not now though. When we come back to follow up, we'll ask her." They were both thinking about the summer internship offered to any person willing and able over sixteen. Every pair of cops was encouraged to promote the summer camp program by submitting at least one name to the register. Ten kids were chosen to intern at the station and get an inside look at the life of a police officer. It seemed every precinct was running short on cops these days, so in recent years the program was set in action and seemed to work well enough. Their rank numbers had increased dramatically, if not in their area, then in other parts of the country. This girl they encountered by chance would be perfect, they could both tell. So, when they came back tomorrow, they'd seek her out and talk to her about it.
The day waned on slowly. Hermione settled Mia down, made her some tea from the café, and restored order to the world. There seemed to be little Mia could do, her nerves were frazzled. The frantic woman wasn't about to stop Hermione when she felt as though the weight of the world had been lifted from her shoulders. So she sat idly by as Hermione took over for the day. Taking over included putting things back in order, greeting the author, managing the employees, ringing sales, keeping stock, controlling the crowd, the list seemed endless.
Finally it was the end of the night. Having just flipped the OPEN sign over and locking the door, Hermione closed the registers, safely putting all the money in the back safe. It was a rather late hour, just after midnight. The signing had ended hours ago, but in light of the special event they were open two hours later and somehow managed to have a few customers to the very end.
As Mia sipped the first of her hot tea, decaf as she had been reprimanded earlier for sneaking coffee, she glanced at her friend through the steam. Hermione had chided her, saying that the last thing she needed was to be wound up like a spring when she was likely to pop from the tension any second as it was.
Now, as she watched, the steam swirling in puffs, she stared at Hermione's back while she closed the door. Her mind raced with a million thoughts, pausing every now and then to remind her how much of an angel this girl was to her. Mia's eyes widened in shock before she quickly blinked several times. Just then, she could have sworn she'd actually seen… no it couldn't have been. The steam, of course, there's no way it could have actually been what she'd thought.
For a brief moment, Mia actually thought she'd seen the wings of an angel on Hermione. Not exactly in a full feathered fury as she'd been one to imagine them being, but she was sure she'd seen something. Then again, as she concluded, she had been looking through the steam. The puffs must have formed a likeness of faux wings.
'Okay,' Hermione though wearily, 'The day is over, thank Merlin.' She had never been through such a long day.
Stifling a yawn she walked over to Mia and sat down in a chair across from the older woman. She pulled the band that held her hair up in a bun out, and let her tresses of golden brown locks cascade down. Only hints of bangs framed her face, while the rest fell to her mid back.
Mia had watched over the past couple years as that hair finally developed. Of course she hadn't known Hermione when she was so bushy haired, but she'd seen a couple pictures and found it hard to believe that someone's hair could change so drastically just from growing up and growing it out. They were smooth and natural curls. Some strands were just wavy, some almost straight.
Mia wondered why she found herself suddenly analyzing Hermione so much, from her hair to her face. Such a pretty smile when she was truly happy, which she had noted long ago seemed to mainly be when she talked about her two friends Harry and Ron. Yes, her bright smile lit up the room and her eyes would gleam with joy. Those deep rich eyes never seemed to stay the same shade of brown or bronze when she saw her each time.
Now the younger girl sat blowing on her own cup of tea, closing her eyes momentarily to smell the warm liquid. Long dark lashes splayed her smooth cheeks as she inhaled through her petit nose, graced with a few barely visible freckles.
Mia was entranced as she watched her friend blow softly to cool it. It had been months since they last met, and even though Hermione treated it as though they had just seen each other yesterday, Mia could not. No, it couldn't have been just yesterday, not when the girl looked so different. She had always been a pretty girl, but that was it, nothing more. Now, after getting a good look at Hermione, another year older, nearly seventeen, she stared almost bewildered. No longer just pretty, Hermione was beautiful, breath taking even. When had this happened? Maybe it was just her tremendous gratitude that made the change, but somehow she doubted that. If Mia were ten years younger, she'd probably feel jealous.
"What is it?" Hermione asked finally noticing the stare she was receiving from the other end of the table.
"An angel," Mia whispered almost inaudibly.
"Huh?" Hermione intoned thinking she'd heard wrong and nearly choking on the tea she had just swallowed.
Mia's eyes snapped to attention as she again came out of her reverie. "An angel," she said more loudly, coughing to hide the literal seriousness she had used in her voice before. "You've been such an angel today. I can't tell you how much what you've done means to me."
Hermione smiled softly. "I'm just glad you're okay. I was so worried when I first saw the siren lights there."
"Oh, I was so relieved when I saw you there. I swear when I heard your voice I thought it was too good to be true and didn't believe it was you until I saw you."
Suddenly the old Mia seemed to come back, Hermione noted with a smirk.
The storeowner had her second wind and the shock no longer impaired her coherence. So with renewed vigor, she started up a mile a minute. "I swear I've never been so frightened in all my life. He came out of no where. I don't even remember opening the door. I usually don't do that before everything is set up. But, it's best I did because he probably would have broken in and there would have been more money for him to steal. Oh, could you imagine if I had set up all the registers already. He would have gotten more than a couple hundred outta me." She paused, suddenly becoming very solemn, "I was so helpless."
"No Mia, there was nothing you could have done, he had a gun," Hermione soothed.
The blonde shook her head. "You don't understand, even if I could have done something, I don't think I would have. I was nearly petrified, hardly able to move. I don't even remember giving him the money. It all happen in what felt like a split second. I didn't think any of it was real, and when I saw that gun, I thought… no, I knew I must have been dreaming. In all my life I never thought something like this would actually happen to me. I mean, sure I've imagined it happening, if not to me, then around me. But somehow, I saw myself with more courage, even a few heroic moves to save to day. But I don't know I tell you…" She suddenly seemed at a loss for words. She started to cry again. "I'm such a coward. I can't believe I was so afraid."
In a flash, Hermione was at Mia's side, consoling her with a comforting arm wrapped around her. She stroked the store owner's hair, saying, "Mia, there was nothing you could have done. You managed to live, that's all that matters. If you tried something, I don't want to think about what the consequences would have been."
Immediately her thoughts went to Harry, always the hero. She never really stopped to think about how difficult it really was. 'Saving the day' as so many had put it, seemed almost a natural thing to do for Harry. Even she and Ron had managed to show great courage in the face of great peril. And yet, Harry had been the only one to remain so strong and steady under the worst of situations, dueling with the Dark Lord himself. In all honesty, it wasn't something she could grasp entirely. She had felt fear before, but never as such described by Mia, or surely felt by Harry during his more dangerous encounters.
Her mind thought for another moment before reaching for an answer that seemed most logical, helplessness. It was the feeling of being helpless that caused such fear. Among the Golden Trio, when they faced danger they had each other and therefore were not so helpless. This was why she hadn't felt the way Mia had earlier. Any situations she had been in, she always had the back up of Ron and Harry, and always had the thought that if things got out of hand, then Dumbledore would miraculously show up and save them all.
Suddenly Hermione had a new view on her escapades throughout her years at Hogwarts. For the three friends who were always joined at the hip, they would each have the support of the other two. When Molly scolded them for their dangerous excursions and somewhat adventurous defiance of the dark side, they hadn't quite understood where her fears came from. Their lives were more than forfeit if they went too far or screwed up, this they knew. But, when together they seemed unbeatable, and it was this thought that Hermione hadn't realized they relied on.
Sighing, Hermione moved one foot in front of the other as she walked home. Having escorted Mia back home and chatted for a bit about the past year at her boarding school, she'd called it a night.
"Constant vigilance," she muttered to herself as she stared at the ground. So much for actually listening to Moody's words. She was almost irate with herself at this point. She'd come to realize that she ranted on about the whole wizarding world not understanding the true danger that had been brewing, all the while not even being able to feel what it truly meant to fear and see her own death.
All too soon, Hermione found herself distracted by an entirely different and more pressing matter. Not too far ahead up in the sky, she saw it, the Dark Mark. She didn't even have to see her house to know that it was right above it, where else would they have set it off.
"Shit," was all she said before sprinting forward, head first into whatever danger might lurk there. Her only thought was of her parents. It was nearly two in the morning, and they would have been in bed long ago, having gotten her message about being late with Mia.
Several eyes watched the young witch as she flew around the corner, like a lioness having heard her pack's call for help. She was being watched going and coming. Six Death Eaters in total were on assignment tonight, to make sure the mudblood saw her end. Two figures in masks and black robes stepped out of the shadows in pursuit of the blasted girl who had irked the Dark Lord for the past six years. It was his plan to kill off those Potter held most dear first, which was no surprise considering the hate and malice he held for the bloody 'boy-who-wouldn't-die'.
Voldemort had devised his plans long ago, only to be set into action now due to a few inconvenient delays. It was, after all, his coming out celebration. Once again his presence was known and even though he would have been better suited to working his evil in obscurity, the cat was out of the bag and the Dark Lord felt inclined to create something of a bang.
Together the trio seemed to have nine lives, but separately they were more vulnerable than a new born.
As they followed, they remained hidden by the night as each streetlight went out with their approach. Their target was too worried to notice anything but what lay ahead.
As total darkness enshrouded the ground Hermione left behind, slowly creeping up to her heels, she turned the final corner and her house came into sight. All lights were off. Of course, she wouldn't have expected anything else at two in the morning. All would have been fine except for the ever looming skull and snake marring the sky above.
Slightly out of breath after sprinting the last couple blocks, she slowly approached. She at least had enough sense to not rush in like a complete fool. Her mind was rational, so as she crept around the side to slide in through a basement window, she knew she was doing the wrong thing. Entering the house at all was enough to get her several hours worth of lectures from Dumbledore, Mrs. Weasley, Mr. Weasley, Harry, Ron, Remus, Snape, Moody, even Fred and George. She knew it was a bad idea if she could count on Fred and George not even thinking it wise. Thoughts of Moody yelling at her made her think of his advice. Yes, she would try her best, considering she would surely face the unexpected no matter how ready she might think she was for a surprise attack.
She dropped down to the floor. The basement was pitch black, not a good thing for her. Very little light came in through the small ground level windows, one of which she had just squeezed through. If someone were here now, she wouldn't be able to see them for another ten minutes or so, whereas they would most surely be watching her every move.
Having finally caught her breath, she remained as still and silent as possible. She just stood there listening to the silence. Her hope was that she'd suddenly hear familiar voices from above, signaling that the cavalry had arrived or her parents were perfectly fine.
Nothing came however. Her mind raced as she squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for them to adjust, willing the process to speed up. Her thoughts were frantic no matter how focused she tried to make them. The darkness and silence made her think of Poe's poem The Raven.
'And the silence was unbroken,' she mouthed as no sound but her own breathing and heartbeat reached her ears. 'And the stillness gave no token' Opening her eyes she saw the room now, void of Death Eaters.
'And the only word there spoken' she continued to mouth without speech as though it was encouraging.
'…was the whispered word…' Suddenly, hearing a scream and thud from above, she said, "fear." She rushed for the now visible staircase.