I Know
Hermione tucks her knees into her chest, curling up in a corner of the sitting room. Dawn begins to break, hues of orange and pink dotting the horizon. The only sounds in the safehouse are the snores of those inhabiting it and the scurrying of mice. “Can’t sleep?” She looks up at the sound of the familiar voice. Harry.
“No. I haven’t slept since Ron and Ginny left,” she sniffs. Her eyes are bloodshot, her bushy hair a tangled mess. She can’t allow herself to sleep when the redheaded pair could be in danger at any given moment.
“I’ll make you some coffee,” Harry offers, combing through his shaggy, overgrown hair with his fingers. Hermione hums in acknowledgement before resting her head back on her forearms.
Ron and Ginny’s departure isn’t the only thing keeping her awake at night. Night terrors haunt her beneath her covers, a constant relay of the events that had happened earlier in the war. Thoughts of the other possibilities, the what-could-have-beens, float around in her mind when she lay awake at night, staring at her ceiling. Fear grasps at her, wrings her out, leaving her body cold and her mind reeling. The lack of sleep will get to her when she begins fighting again; but for now, she can only hope that the five minutes of rest per night will do enough for her.
“You know, ‘Mione, you’re always welcome to sleep in Gin and mine’s room if you can’t fall asleep,” Harry suggested once. At a time, Hermione wouldn’t have minded sleeping next to Harry or Ron, turning to the two for comfort at night. They’d done it many times before when they were on the run a few years back. But times have changed. Harry and Ginny have gotten intimately acquainted with one another over the past little while, finding solace in one another’s company. She was close with Ginny, but she always felt like she was intruding in on their relationship whenever she was around the two. When it came to Harry, Ginny would not even think once about letting her guard down around other women—not even Hermione.
Ron, on the other hand, tended to sleep around a lot. He and Hermione had tried for a relationship around two years ago, but things hadn’t seemed to work out between them like everybody had hoped.
“You aren’t like yourself anymore, ‘Mione. It’s like your mind’s in an entirely different place when I’m speaking to you,” Ron told her once during their few months together. He grew cold and distant towards her, as did she towards him. This time around two years ago, when they had stopped speaking to one another for weeks after one of Ron’s bouts of anger, Hermione had opened the door to their bedroom to apologise to find him cozied up in their mattress with Hannah Abbott. She’d thrown both of them out, giving them no time to explain. There was nothing to explain about what she had interrupted. For how long this had been going on, she didn’t know nor did she care for. She had to focus on more important things, like keeping herself and the Order safe. She’d found out through Ginny weeks later that Ron had started sleeping with Parvati Patil, and then through Harry that he’d hooked up with Parvati’s counterpart not even a month after that. He cycled through each girl like they were all pawns in a game of chess to be used, only to start the game all over again when he started feeling unsatisfied with his results. Each time somebody had reported to Hermione with these kinds of information, she’d scoffed and continued on with what she had been doing. She did not care about Ron’s recklessness. Karma would get to him one day, she just knew it. Besides, she had better things to worry about rather than a foolish teenage boy.
“Here,” Harry says, returning with two warm mugs of coffee. He sits next to Hermione, setting his cup down on the ground to his left. The two didn’t speak much either anymore, but they enjoyed each other’s presence. They were glad to just sit beside the other in silence for hours on end. It was a reminder of the trust they had built over the course of the past decade. That was something that would never change between them.
When the sun reaches the point in the sky that signals it’s time for the safehouse to wake up, Hermione pulls herself up off of the floor, leaving her coffee untouched and cold. Harry had fallen asleep again with his head against an armchair, spittle drying on his cheek. She washes her dry hands in the kitchen sink, wiping the water onto her cotton pyjamas. Slowly making her way up the staircase, she wonders what chaos this quiet morning will bring to the Order, trailing her fingertips up the railing.
“Miss Granger, may I have a word with you?” Kingsley Shacklebolt’s voice booms from the meeting room. She saunters through the doorway to find Kingsley, McGonagall, and Mad-Eye Moody sitting atop the creaky stools that surround the rusty metal table in the centre of the room.
“What is it?” Her voice comes out shaky. A feeling in her gut tells her that something isn’t right.
“The Death Eaters have yet again breached the wards around our safehouse back in London. As you know, a few of your friends, such as Miss Lovegood, Mr. Thomas, and Mr. Finnigan have been spending their time there with Severus,” McGonagall starts. She swallows. “Mr Finnigan, Mr. Finch-Fletchley, and Miss Chang were—captured, as the group was apparating away. Their state of being, whether dead or alive, is unbeknownst to us as of right now. Severus caught the faces of several mid-ranking unmasked Death Eaters, such as Draco Malfoy, Theodore Nott, Jr., and Pansy Parkinson during the raid. And now, we’ve been thinking,” she looks over at Kingsley and Alastor, “we want you to lead our next rescue mission.”
“Wh—What?” Hermione stutters, her throat drying.
“You, along with Mr. Potter, Miss Abbott, and Mr. Creevey will be sent on the assignment of retrieving the members that have been taken from us. We suspect that the three Slytherins will be on the site, as well as their supervisors, Antonin Dolohov and Barty Crouch, Jr., guarding the area in which the three are being held.” Hermione’s face pales. The thought of having to face any of those monsters again nauseated her.
“Tonight, Mr. Potter will be meeting with our spy to retrieve the coordinates of the designated space. We can only hope that this is not a trap,” (1) Kingsley adds. Hermione nods. “You are dismissed. We will speak about this once we have informed the others.”