Unofficial Portkey Archive

A/N: Thank you very much for the reviews. And special thanks to lucky charms for her wonderful Beta-Reading.

Chapter 4 - Decision

Almost three weeks had passed since Hermione had received news from Harry, through Draco... If you could call that news. She was starting to get more and more desperate. Every night she had terrible nightmares concerning Ginny. She was almost thinking that Harry had completely forgotten he had promised to keep her informed.

After trying to convince her parents every day that they should leave France as soon as possible, they were starting to consider the possibility. Mr. Granger was concerned about his job, Mrs. Granger about where could they live in North America, and Hermione was troubled about how the hell they were going to get out of France
without being arrested by the Ministry of Magic. They had recently ordered that no wizard - pureblood or muggle-born - could leave the country. Hermione had little contact with the Wizarding World those days. Without the Weasleys and surrounded only by muggles, she was starting to forget what it felt to use magic.

That, of course, meant that she didn't really know what was going on with the muggle-borns like her.

To make it all worse, her mother had become ill. The doctor diagnosed pneumonia. She had been in bed for a week now. Hermione had asked permission in the store to take care of her. Mr. Granger was extremely nervous, because the medicine the doctor had prescribed was very expensive.

Three days ago, on her way to the drugstore, she had bumped into Draco Malfoy. Actually, he had bumped into her, and Hermione soon realized he had been waiting for her to come out of the house.

"What? More news from Mr. Potter?" she had asked, internally hoping that that was the case.

"Not exactly. Harry is back in England," Draco replied.

"Oh," she tried to hide her disappointment by busying herself with the tightening of the scarf around her neck.

"Take these," Draco said and handed her three train tickets.

"What's this?"

"A gift," Draco stated simply. Hermione stared at him dumbfounded and he laughed. "It's your chance to get out of here," he lowered his voice, until it became a whisper. "Gryffindor sent a special train for the muggle-borns that want to leave France. Of course, they have disguised it as a normal muggle train, to avoid suspicion. You and your parents should take it. You have to be in the Central Station, this Friday at 4 pm."

He had disapparated before she had the chance to ask how he had gotten the tickets, although she had a slight idea.

* * *

Of course, with Mrs. Granger's illness, the idea of leaving was impossible. The doctor had said that any change of temperature could complicate things. To Hermione, the most important thing was her mother's health, so she had decided to miss the chance of leaving if her parents couldn't go with her.

That Friday afternoon, Mr. Granger had taken an extra turn at work, and Mrs. Granger had fallen asleep while Hermione made bread in the kitchen. She was wearing an old cooking apron and her hair was up in a messy ponytail. She was so focused working that she didn't hear the bell until it rang for the third time.

She ran towards the door, wiping her hands on the apron. The wooden spoon she had in her hand fell to the floor when she saw who had been knocking on the door.

"I was starting to think that you had left France," said Harry, staring at her seriously. He looked angry. "I thought I had missed you at the Station."

Hermione was so surprised to see him there, that the only thing she could say was, "Draco told me you were in England."

"I came back," he said. His hair was wet with rain. "Why weren't you at the Station? I've just said goodbye to Draco, who left on the first one. I looked for you all over the train and you weren't there."

"I couldn't go," she said, tearing her eyes away from his gaze.

Harry was going to say something when he spotted two women walking in the street. "We should talk inside," he said, and came into the house, closing the door behind him.

Still a little perplexed, Hermione led him to the living room and sat down on the couch. She motioned for him to do the same, but he shook his head.

"There's no time to sit down, Hermione," he said, grabbing her arm. "We have to leave now. There's another train coming in less than an hour. I brought a muggle car."

A muggle car? Harry sure had gone through a lot of trouble to help her and her family. But why?

"We are not leaving," she said, sighing.

"What? Jesus, Hermione! I thought you had realized that you're in danger here! I'm sure that your parents agree," he spoke loudly.

"My mom is sick, Harry, she has pneumonia."

"Then she'll have to bring an extra coat," he stated calmly, but it was obviously evident he was angry.

"She can't leave the house," she argued with a tiny voice.

Harry ran a hand through his hair. "Let me speak to your father," he said.

"That's another reason why we can't leave. He's at work."

"I'll go and get him, you and your mother start packing."

Hermione walked towards the window. "Are you deaf? I told you we can't leave with my mom sick!" Harry frowned. "I thank you for your concern anyway, Harry."

Harry remained silent, staring at her, with a mixture of disbelief and surprise. Hermione, once again, realized how piercing his green eyes were. They were wntrancing-sort of... magnetic. She had to say something to break that horrible silence.

"Draco gave me your message," she said. She made a pause when she saw his mouth becoming tense. "Has Krum found out anything else?" she asked, with fear. Harry finally broke the eye contact to the relief of Hermione, and started pacing through the room "Harry? Where are they?"

"In La Santé," he said slowly.

"W-what?" Hermione sat down again. Her best friend, in that horrible place? Why? She couldn't understand... Just imagining Ginny and her parents with those monsters gave her the creeps. She wanted to cry, but she was determined not to do it in front of Harry.

"Hermione," Harry said, after a few minutes of deep silence. "We have to go now. This is your last chance."

"Forget it Harry, I already told you..."

"Don't you understand, dammit?!" he blurted out, not caring that he had completely interrupted her. "You have to take that train!"

Hermione felt the anger building inside of her. Even though Harry had taken all that trouble for them, and despite the fact that she knew he was being pushy for a good reason, he was no one to talk to her like that.

"Listen," she spoke firmly, standing up and staring straight into his captivating green orbs, "I am not one of your servants. You can't give me orders. I thank you deeply for all you have done for us, but I've said my last word," she took a deep breath. "You should leave now or the train will depart without you."

Harry stared at her with his green eyes. Hermione felt uneasy, but she didn't look away.

"Fine," he said, walking towards the door. His voice sounded like a growl. "I guess this is goodbye then. I hope you won't regret this." He slammed the door behind him.

Hermione kept looking at the closed door, feeling sad and depressed. Was it because of Ginny or because of her argument with Harry? Come on, he's not even your friend, she thought. He was just a good samaritan who had offered help... And she had refused it with utter discourtesy...

"Hermione? Who was it?" she heard her mother asking wearily from the bedroom.

"Just a salesman, mum."

* * *

About a month later, things were pretty much the same in the Granger's home. Mrs. Granger was healthier, although not completely recovered. Hermione hadn't had a clue about what was going on in the Wizarding World. She was slightly amazed that nothing had happened to her yet. Even though muggles didn't realize what was going on, she was sure that Slytherin doctrins had taken over France by then.

She was also eagerly expecting Ginny's appearance. She was sure they had set her free... It was obvious she hadn't done everything wrong. Her parents had suggested the idea that her friend could be dead, but Hermione refused to believe it.

She often thought about Harry and the scolded herself for doing it. What was so special about him anyway?

That afternoon, she was reading in her bedroom when a gentle knock revealed her mother's presence.

"Honey, a girl named Fleur Delacour is here to see you."

"Fleur Delacour?" Hermione asked, confused.

"Yes. She said she attended to Beauxbatons with you." Mrs. Granger eyed her daughter suspiciously. She didn't show it, but she was concerned about what could happen to her for being a muggle-born, and Hermione knew it. "Should I tell her to leave?"

Hermione thought for a second. She didn't know any Fleur Delacour from school, or from anywhere for that matter. But something was telling her that this was important. Maybe that Fleur was a messenger. She walked towards the living room, followed closely by her mother. A tall girl, at least three years older than her was standing there. She was very beautiful, with long silver hair and very white skin. Hermione hugged the stranger as if she was a long time friend.

"Fleur, it's so great to see you," she said. "Come to my bedroom, it's warmer there, and we'll be able to talk." She grabbed Fleur's hand and led her to her room. She shut the door behind her and turned to face the tall girl. "Ok, who are you?" she whispered.

"What a lovely bedroom," Fleur said loudly, and then spoke in a whisper too. "You have to be at the Edgar Quinet Boulevard, near the cemetery's gate at three thirty. You'll meet a friend there."

Hermione's eyes lit up. "It's Ginny, isn't it?"

Fleur didn't answer and smiled slightly.

* * *

At 3 and a half p.m, Hermione Granger was walking slowly through the Edgar Quinet Boulevard, with her eyes fixed in the Cemetery's gate. There were some people there, but definitely not anyone with red head: two old ladies feeding the pigeons, a tall man wearing one of those American letterman's jacket and a baseball hat, and a middle aged man looking at his watch impatiently. Hermione approached towards the gate. The tall male with the baseball hat approached a little and she recognized him immediately.

"Har..." she started but he made a sign towards her, and she shut up.

"Hey baby," he said and she was surprised to notice an American accent in his voice. "I thought you'd never come," he said in a loud voice. Hermione couldn't answer. She was too surprised to see him again. Harry offered his arm and she took it clumsily. They started walking and entered in the cemetery.

"Fleur Delacour, or whatever her name is, said that I was going to meet a friend and I thought it was Ginny," Hermione said when she was sure no one could heard them.

Harry stopped walking. "Ginny? They set her free?" he asked with anxiety.

"I don't know."

"When have you had any news of her? Do you know something about Arthur or Molly?" Harry asked and Hermione noticed the urgency in his eyes when he grabbed her arm.

"I haven't had contact with her in any way since her disappearance. I don't know..." she repeated.

"But you said..."

"I said I thought it was Ginny. I was hoping it would be her," she said sadly, and Harry slowly let her arm go and ran a hand through his messy hair. Hermione sighed. "Why are you in France, Harry?" she asked. "Did you lose the train because of us?"

"No," he said shaking his head. "I left with the rest of them." He looked around to check if no one was hearing, before whispering, "My name is Neville Longbottom, OK? Call me that." She nodded.

"How's your mother?" he asked, resuming his walk.

"Better... but not completely recovered."

"You heard what happened, didn't you?"

"How could I? I'm living in the muggle world and I don't have contact with any wizard or..."

"France has been taken by Slytherin," Harry interrupted her. "He put one of his closest friends in the Ministry of Magic."

Hermione didn't say anything. She had expected something like that to happen, but she still had had hope that it wouldn't... until now, that is.

"You should be in Spain," Harry added.

"Harry, I mean, Neville, why start all over again? I told you I couldn't leave with my mum sick and..."

"I'm saying now. You should leave now," he said, leading her into a corner.

"Now? Why not a trip to the moon?" she asked with sarcasm.

"I know a way... through the mountains."

"Are you kidding? Isn't that a little bit dangerous?" she asked in disbelief.

"It's more dangerous to stay here."

"But my mom is still weak--"

"--We'll take the easiest route--"

"--If they caught us, they'll kill us right away," she argued.

"Not if you have documents to prove that you are all muggles who don't know anything about magic."

"Fake documents, you mean."

"Hermione, you don't look like a coward to me. What's wrong? Don't you understand the situation you are in?"

Hermione had no arguments left. The truth was, she knew staying in France was like suicide. And Harry was offering her, and her parents, a way out. A hard one, but it seemed it was the only one left.

"I'll be at your house at 8 o'clock," Harry said, probably guessing what she was thinking.

* * *

As she had thought, her parents didn't like the idea at all. They spent the whole afternoon arguing. Finally, Hermione decided she would pack everyone's suitcases, hoping that when Harry arrived, they would come to their senses.

At 8 o'clock, the door bell rang. Hermione had placed the suitcases in the entrance hall, and her parents were sitting in the living room, with their faces pale. She opened the door and Harry came in. Mr. And Mrs. Granger stood up to face him.

"My daughter says you can get us out of France," Mr. Granger said, after a while.

"Yes, sir."

"In a really dangerous, and illegal way," Mrs. Granger added in a skeptic tone.

Hermione had the feeling that Harry had expected that, because his expression didn't change.

"I won't deny that there are risks, but it's better than staying here. Your daughter is in immediate danger," he said, calmly.

"I just don't understand why you care so much about us. We don't even know you," Mr. Granger said.

"Because he's a very good friend of Ginny's family, and I am friend of hers," Hermione blabbed when Harry didn't answer.

"Mr. Potter, we understand that you have the best intentions," Mrs. Granger spoke. "But we don't want our daughter to be exposed to such a danger."

Hermione was furious that they would use her as a pretext to hide their own fears. She stood between them and Harry.

"I'll be in danger if I stay here, mum. You don't realize what they're doing to us, muggle-borns. They have killed so many of us, and the others have been sent to prison or concentration fields!"

"You don't know that for sure, honey. They are just rumors," Mr. Granger said, weakly.

"Yes, look at all the time we have lived here and they hadn't done anything to you," added Mrs. Granger in the same tone.

Hermione stared at her parents with disbelief. What in the hell was wrong with them?

"We just want you to be safe, honey," said Mrs. Granger, and she looked smaller and more vulnerable than ever. Hermione couldn't be angry at them. They were fooling themselves... It was impossible to convince them.

She turned around to look at Harry, to tell him she was going to stay with her parents. She met his narrowed eyes, which were waiting for her decision. His eyes were so intense...

"I'm leaving," the words came out of her mouth before she even realized.

"No, you're not!" her father exclaimed "You're just a child."

"Dear, trust us... Nothing will happen to you," her mother said.

Harry took Hermione's cloak. "Which is your suitcase?" he asked.

"Are you leaving tonight?" Mr. Granger asked immediately.

Hermione looked at him. She knew her father was giving his blessing. If only they would come with her. She hugged him and then her mother. She showed her suitcase to Harry.

"Goodbye," she gave a last look to her parents and left with Harry behind.