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The end came in the false dawn on the second of May, 1998. Harry Potter, dead. Rubeus Hagrid, dead. Remus Lupin, dead. Minerva McGonagall, dead. Neville Longbottom, dead.
Ron and Hermione saw death come for their friends, then fled into the Forbidden Forest as dawn broke over the grounds.
※ ※ ※
They ended up back in the Forest of Dean. The didn’t speak for an hour, or maybe a day, or maybe a week. Ron’s pocket watch had been smashed a few disasters ago and neither him nor Hermione felt particularly inclined to do anything about it.
“What now?” Ron asked, his voice hoarse.
Hermione was silent for a little longer still. Then she jumped to her feet and began setting up camp as they had been doing every night for months, as if nothing had changed.
“We find Nagini,” she said. “We kill the snake. That’s what Harry told us we had to do, so that’s what we’re going to do.”
Ron helped her shake out the tent once more. “We’re going to need some help,” he told her.
If he had known that saying those words would mark the beginning of years’ worth of panicked and desperate sex, he might have said them sooner. Or maybe he never would have said them at all. It was hard to tell.
※ ※ ※
It took a year to contact what remained of the resistance. Most of the key players had been murdered in the Battle of Hogwarts, but there were some still willing to fight.
“I know this places a burden on you,” Hermione explained to Arthur and Molly. “I don’t like asking this of you.”
“We can go somewhere else,” Ron countered.
“Almost everyone left has tracking charms on them,” Hermione said. “It would be too suspicious for all the old members of the Order of the Phoenix and Dumbledore’s Army to gather together. But if one or two drop by the Burrow occasionally, well, it shouldn’t raise too many red flags.”
“We’re guessing.”
“Ron, be helpful,” Hermione snapped.
“I was helpful! I said, ‘Anywhere but the Burrow, Hermione,’ and you marched us straight here to make my parents’ home the headquarters of the resistance and most likely get them killed —”
“Ron, stop,” interrupted Arthur, putting his hand up to halt the argument. “We appreciate the concern, but we decided years ago that we were prepared to sacrifice our lives for this.
“We’ve lost so many,” Molly said. “We want to make their deaths — Fred’s death — mean something. We can host meetings here —”
“No,” said Hermione firmly. “No meetings. We can’t draw attention to ourselves like that. Information gets passed from person to person in different locations at different times. The Burrow is the information hub. All intelligence goes through here. But no meetings.”
The word was out: find Nagini. Kill Nagini. Whispers worked their way back to Ron and Hermione through the network: sightings, or hearsay, but nothing solid enough to be a real lead and nothing concrete enough to act on. Nagini stayed by Voldemort’s side at all times, and Voldemort was a ghost.
So they waited.
※ ※ ※
Andromeda wanted to help them out. Probably.
“I just can’t,” she explained, balancing Teddy on her hip. He’d gotten so big over the last year. “You have to understand. If things were like they were before, I would, no questions asked. But I have Teddy to take care of, and —”
“We understand,” said Hermione. “We really do.”
“He’s going to grow up a fugitive as it is, always hiding away. Son of a werewolf? They’re after him just for being alive. It’s a full time job, bringing up a child, and you know it’s a constant fight, staying hidden —”
“We know,” said Ron grimly.
“I can’t be out there fighting with you,” Andromeda repeated. “You can stay with me when you need to, but I’m needed here.”
“Of course,” said Hermione. “We appreciate everything, really.”
“I tried to get out of the country,” Andromeda said. “But by the time I’d secured an exit, the Border went up, and, well, that was it for everyone.”
“Do you know anything about what’s going on at the Ministry?” Ron asked. “We’ve been trying to find someone who works there who will help us, but they’re all too scared.”
“I don’t think I have much news,” Andromeda said. “But Kingsley was here a couple of days ago, and he knows more than me. He said there are some disturbing rumours coming out of the Ministry concerning the Muggleborn Registration Committee.”
“What is it?” said Ron.
“Internment camps. That’s what I’ve heard. Take all the Muggleborns and separate them from society.”
“And kill them,” finished Hermione. No one bothered to argue.
They did eventually get more information about the camps that had been set up in the north. They were built for Muggleborns, but they were pleased to accept werewolves and blood traitors too.
※ ※ ※
Since they couldn’t gut a certain snake, they helped in other ways.
“Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go,” Ron hissed.
The girl scurried onto the boat, where Hermione was waiting with the others.
“Is that all of them?” Ron squinted into the darkness.
Ginny slid onto the boat behind him. “Last one,” she said, passing a small child into Hermione’s waiting arms. “Thirty-six Muggleborns here and accounted for. We got lucky this year, you know. Snape got me the names of all the Muggleborns for this upcoming year and a couple younger ones as well. Five out of six isn’t bad. A few less for the death camps.”
“We have to go now,” Hermione said. “We need to be at the Border before sunrise if we’re going to get through.”
“I thought you just went through with sheer willpower,” Ginny remarked, untying the rope from the dock.
“It’s a finely tuned operation,” Ron said, hushed. “Our man on the inside —”
“Our woman on the inside, you mean.”
“Sure, Hermione, yes, our woman on the inside takes down the Border for thirty seconds each time we need through. Has to be exact ‘cos we can’t pick and chose our dates to smuggle tiny Muggleborns to France.”
“I’m thrilled to be invited,” Ginny drawled. “Normally I drop off the kids and run.”
“Quiet!” Hermione whispered. “Our voices carry over water.”
Ginny shrugged, and then there was a loud bang and shouting from the far end of the dock.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Ron said, throwing the last rope into the boat and pushing off from the dock. “They must have gotten wind we’d be here, we must have missed someone’s tracking charm, or —”
“Leave it to me,” Ginny said. She stood up on the rail and jumped the gap between the boat and the dock.
“Ginny!” Ron exclaimed. “Get back in this boat right now!”
“I can give you some time,” Ginny said. There was another loud bang and more shouts, closer now.
“Ron, we have to go now,” Hermione said. She looked up. “Ginny, get away as fast as you can. We’ll be alright.”
“Hey, don’t worry about me,” Ginny told them. “I’ve got backup.”
From inside her coat she produced a wand, snapped nearly in half, with a small tuft of a phoenix feather poking out. Then she winked, used her own want to send a wave of water that pushed the boat farther away from her, and turned to run back towards the voices.
“Let’s move,” Hermione ordered. With a wave of her wand, the boat began its fast and silent course through the water.
As they moved farther away from the docks, they heard shouting, flashes of bright light, and a loud splash. Then there was just silence.
※ ※ ※
Luna Lovegood tried to help the cause the best way she knew how: by becoming a Healer. The Death Eaters lost interest in her as a bargaining chip once her father fell in line, and she was one of the very few of Dumbledore’s Army who managed to live anything resembling a normal life. There were some perks to having someone still living in society.
“You know, you only have an average of five litres of blood in your body,” Luna told Ron one day.
“What does that have to do with anything?” he asked her grumpily.
“Well, it works much better when it’s on the inside,” she said.
“Most of it still is."
“Don’t worry, Luna,” Hermione said. “Ron is just an idiot who can’t get out of the way of a collapsing building fast enough.”
“It’s a shame,” Luna said. “I always liked the Hog’s Head. And Aberforth was so kind to me.”
“Well, now he’s dead, and we don’t have a place to stay anymore,” said Ron. “Got any more Chocolate Frogs hanging around?”
Luna threw him one. “I don’t know why you bother,” she said, watching him fumble for it with his good arm. “They’re all of Voldemort these days.”
“Haven’t had sugar in a year,” was the response.
“We’re not staying, Luna,” Hermione assured her. “We just came to get patched up and then we’re gone. Back to camping for the time being until we can arrange something else.”
“Did you know Madame Pomfrey passed away?” Luna said.
“Passed away or was brutally murdered?” Ron asked.
Luna shrugged. “Don’t know. Could be either, couldn’t it? They’ve sent someone from St. Mungo’s to fill in temporarily, but the position is open now. I thought I’d apply. Live inside the walls…”
“Dangerous,” said Hermione.
Luna hummed in agreement. Later that month, she walked into Hogwarts as the new matron.
After a few months, they heard the news from the paper. Luna was caught assisting Muggleborns who were undergoing routine torture. The administration decided to reprimand the blood traitor; however, she did not survive the punishment with all her mental faculties intact and thus was forced to resign.
Hermione took particular delight in burning the newspaper that night.
※ ※ ※
Things worked out for a while. Until they didn’t.
“It’s Christmas!” Ron exclaimed. “Can’t we stop in and have a cup of cheer with what’s left of the old family on Christmas?”
“It’s too dangerous,” Hermione countered. It was the same argument every year.
“You say that every year,” Ron said. He said that every year too, but Hermione decided not to point out the tradition. It was one of the few things they had left, after all. She stayed silent and poked at the fire instead.
After a beat, Ron sighed. “You’re right, I suppose,” he grumbled. “As usual.”
“Of course I am,” Hermione said. “We’ll have Christmas sex instead.” That was tradition too.
It was nearly a week later they heard the news: the Weasley family was trapped inside the Burrow on Christmas Day as it burned to the ground. No survivors. The Ministry of Magic released a statement that this was a sanctioned attack against a rebel family. Regrettable, of course, what with Bill and Fleur’s young daughter sentenced to death as well, but — rebellion, of course, was messy business.
※ ※ ※
Ron’s grief left him in turn both motionless and frenzied. At times he went days without moving; then he would emerge from his stupor, enraged, to take the lead on their operations.
Hermione’s grief brought her beyond rage and into cold calculation.
She approached Ron one night with a two bottles and a plan.
“Does your plan involve drinking firewhiskey and lying on the floor all day?” Ron asked. “If not, I don’t want to hear it.”
“No,” said Hermione. “But you are going to help me destroy the Ministry of Magic.”
※ ※ ※
The official story in the Muggle papers was that a sinkhole had opened up in the middle of London and swallowed an abandoned warehouse. There were some grumblings around the world about the apocalypse and how the whole world was going to end, and then everyone quietly forgot.
The official story in the Daily Prophet was that Granger was a wanted woman to be killed on sight.
“I don’t think Harry would have wanted this,” Ron remarked from their place considerably west of the wreckage.
“Doesn’t matter,” said Hermione.
“Hermione —”
“No,” she cut across him sharply. “Not Hermione. Hermione is the girl who was bright in school and followed the rules. She would never have destroyed a building and killed hundreds of people. Hermione would never have sacrificed Kingsley.”
“Hermione, no —”
“Stop it. Call me Granger. Everyone else is these days.”
Ron took a deep breath. “Alright, Granger. What next?”
※ ※ ※
When the Ministry fell — fell, collapsed, imploded, however you wanted to phrase it — Hogwarts became the place to be. It was Granger’s idea to move there, and Ron figured it was as good a place as any. And what better place to lead the resistance than from under the nose of their enemies?
Not that there was anyone left to lead.
“Me, you, and Snape,” said Ron. “How depressing."
※ ※ ※
The beginning came sometime in autumn, some twenty-five years after it had ended. It came with a boy who talked about Time Turners and a whole world where there was no Voldemort, and Ron and Granger were married, and rescuing Muggleborns from torture and death wasn’t their Sunday entertainment.
Ron and Granger saw death come for them, then stayed to meet it as time unraveled around them.