Chapter One
“Don't be suspicious,” Hermione muttered to herself as she kept her face down, hidden from the similarly cloaked stranger who scurried down the alley. No doubt they were hurrying for different reasons, for hers was a face that would call dozens of Death Eaters to Diagonalley.
Pulling the hood of her cloak tighter Hermione continued down the deserted alley, what was once a bustling and vibrant hub of Britains wizarding society was now bleak and ruined, the half-destroyed buildings the site of numerous Death Eater attacks. The attacks of which had only grown more consistent and brutal in the eleven months since the battle of Hogwarts. Fear their greatest tool, an oppressive foot on the neck of Britains Wizarding community, turning neighbour on neighbour and family on family, uncertain who was a friend and who was foe. The war that was being waged was quiet and vicious, unsavory methods on both sides had been used to try and gain an upper hand in a seemingly neverending battle.
Though they were at a stalemate, eventually the war would fall to the side of the Dark, of this the Order was certain. Perpetual war was not feasible, international magical communities had made it clear that in this ongoing battle, they would not intercede on either’s behalf. Britain was alone in the civil war it was currently experiencing, and with the leader of the Death Eaters impervious to death while his two remaining Horcruxes survived, he could continue this war into perpetuity. The Order could not allow Harry to sacrifice his life to further weaken Voldemort, with Nagini still alive and unseen since her brush with death at Hogwarts, his sacrifice would be worthless while Nagini remained hidden. What Harry represented for those who fought against Voldemort, what he represented for those who were hidden was too valuable a figurehead to lose in a pointless sacrifice.
The thought of Harry brought a pang to her chest, it had been nine months since she had seen Harry or Ron. Shortly after the Battle of Hogwarts, the decision had been made that they should split up, too much of a target as a trio. The Order had also intentionally split its operations, the risk of remaining in large groups was too high considering the substantial bounties on the heads of key members of the Order. The last wanted poster Hermione had seen of herself, had listed a two thousand galleon reward for the live capture of Harry Potters muggleborn counterpart. Hermione had taken part in the rescue of Cho Chang and even ten months after the fact, the memory of Cho’s broken body and shattered psyche still turned Hermiones stomach. No, the women of the Order knew that it was better to be killed then captured alive, and for Hermione this was even more important a fact, it was why she kept a cynanide pill braided into her hair, she would not become a broken slave to be used against Harry.
Harry and Ron had joined those in the Order who focused on fighting the frontlines of this war, holding the death eaters back from complete control of Britain, diverting the attention of Voldemort and his followers, and fighting in both public and in the shadows. And there were those members of the Order, like herself, who were instructed to continue the hunt for a way to end this war.
Hermione had focused on Dumbledore’s final instruction, delivered to Kingsley shortly after his death. It was as confusing as the man who wrote it himself, Kingsley had dedicated some of his most trusted witches and wizards on the task of deciphering the cryptic instructions left behind. When the Ministry fell and the stalemate that was the Battle of Hogwarts, Kingsley had brought Hermione into the fold, her search leading her to Knockturn.
Knockturn Alley was as dark and grimey as Harry had described to her all those years ago, though this place, a market for the dark and dangerous had not escaped the war unscathed. Even here the alley was empty, windows were broken, dried blood staining the cobblestone. The deeper you went down the twist and turns of Knockturn, the more expansive the damage became. Carefully skirting around the debris of storefronts, wand at the ready she came to a stop.
Bertulfs Exotic Beastiary was by all appearances simply a place to purchase magical creatures of a more dangerous variety, but as was often the case with Knockturn, there was a darker more illegal reality to the store. Here, as the rumours whispered, you could purchase illegal owned or obtained creatures. Ron had first mentioned this store during the hunt for Horcruxes, one of the few places in Britain that basilisk fangs could be obtained. It was no surprise to Hermione as she stepped into the ruined building, that this store above all others in this place showed such brutality in its destruction. Voldemort had been swift in his eradication of any physical weapons that could be used against his remaining horcruxes.
Casting a swift look around, Hermione cast a notice-me-not over the entryway of Bertulfs, it would hold off any curious eyes until Hermione had done what she had set out to do.
“Evanesco,” Hermione murmured with a flick of her wrist, vanishing the rubble that someone had roughly pushed into the centre of the store, a shield that screamed of the creator's desperation. Unfazed by the blood that stained the stone floors, Hermione knelt on the ground as she began pulling out everything she required for the spell. She could not falter now. She could not allow doubt to waver her hand.
Hermione was here to die and nothing was going to stop that.