𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆

Chapter 6

Confrontations

Who will wake them?

No one ever will;

No one ever told them that

A summer day can kill ...

- Les Miserables

Later, historians in the Wizarding world would call it the Day of Terror. They would study it and consider it the turning point of the Second War, commenting on the logistics of the operations and the precise execution of the plans. They would discuss the massive power with which Lord Voldemort's supporters had advanced, and they would study the techniques used on that day to create mass panic and chaos. But mostly, they would wonder at how suddenly the war had turned sour for the side of the Order of the Phoenix and its unwitting leader, Harry Potter.

But before historians could study it, someone would have to live through it to tell the story. At the moment, that seemed nearly impossible.

The young woman pulled her cloak more tightly around herself to ward off the gusting wind. Her hood was low over her eyes, but even the thick dark material couldn't keep the chill out of her bones. She had to find him; everything depended on him now, she knew, and she swallowed the sting of emotions that rose in her throat at the thought.

The world had gone mad.

She ducked her head against the wind and hurried along the path. The morning had begun so peacefully, almost eerily so. Perhaps she should have known. Perhaps she ought to have suspected that anything easy would prove disastrous, that a sunrise so beautiful would have to yield a lethal sunset. Everything seemed tainted in this way: even those things she cherished most were darkened by the shadows of the war. And now, the darkness seemed to permeate everything.

She reached the front steps, whispered the words that would gain her entry, and rushed into the house. "Hello?" she called and prayed for a response. These days, one just never knew.

"Hermione!"

Ron's footsteps thundered up the stairs from the kitchen, and Hermione sagged with relief. "Ron. Everything all right here?"

Ron was across the room in a second, sweeping her into a hug. "I'm so glad you're all right," he said into her hair. "We're all fine. Ginny's with Mum downstairs. The rest of the Order's all ... out there."

"Right," Hermione nodded, forcing herself to calm down. Ron and Ginny were okay. Everything will be all right.

"Did you find Harry?"

Except for that. "No. He wasn't at Godric's Hollow."

Ron's face paled. "But ... I thought for sure ..."

"Me, too." She stepped out of Ron's embrace and stared out the window, as if Harry might appear over the horizon. "But the house was empty."

"There've been more attacks," Ron said quietly. "Hundreds dead, probably. Muggles and Muggle-born Wizards and purebloods who sympathize with the Order ... They don't know how many casualties, really."

Hermione nodded and cleared her throat. "And my parents?"

Ron touched her arm. "No word yet."

She nodded again. She would not cry. If she started now, she feared she may never stop. "The prisoners?"

"Looks like every Death Eater that was in Azkaban is free now."

"Brilliant," she muttered darkly. "It just keeps getting better and better."