Chapter Text
The dark room was filled with an oppressing silence. Two people stood on opposite ends of a table strewn with maps filled with colored markings.
Finally, one of them breaks the silence.
“You know what we need to do.”
The other responded immediately.
“And like I told you before, it’s too dangerous!”
“Hermione needs us!”
“Hermione can take care of herself. It’s not worth the risk.”
“Are you serious? It’s Hermione! She must be worried sick not hearing from us for so long. We should’ve gotten her the second we were secure!”
The second person crossed their arms, their words sharp and exasperated.
“And how do you propose we do that, hm? Our brooms are for emergencies only, we can’t risk any expeditions for anything but more supplies. The last time you tried to send a Patronus, it attracted a horde of those things and caused you to almost pass out from magical exhaustion. And while we were running from those Things, you dropped your DA coin! We have no owl, no way to communicate, and no way to be certain she’s even alive!”
“She’s alive, I know it! The bond doesn’t lie, Ginny.”
There was a pause, then Ginny spoke, pleading and anxious.
“Harry…please. It’s just too risky. Think of the boys. They need us. Jamie has nightmares every night, and Albie can’t even sleep without both of us in the same room. We can’t afford to go looking for Hermione. We just can’t.”
“I can’t just abandon her!”
“But you can abandon us?”
No one spoke for a minute. Harry shook his head, understanding Ginny’s reasoning, but knowing he’d never forgive himself if Hermione was killed because he did nothing.
Ginny’s voice sounded again, soft and close to tears.
“You know, Hermione would never want you to put yourself in danger for her.”
“…I know.”
“She’s smart. She’ll find a way to us. In fact, she’s probably made three plans and mapped out routes!”
Harry let out a watery chuckle.
“Yeah, probably also packed everything in her Emergency Go-bag… She was always the most prepared.”
“Exactly. She’ll be ok. We just have to make sure we are too, so she has a safe place to rest when she finds us. We can even set up some clues to where we are next time we go on a supply run. Clues only she can figure out.”
Harry nodded, determined. If he couldn’t go find Hermione himself, he’d have to make sure Hermione could find them when she came.
Yes, that’s what he’d do. Leaving the room determinedly, he started planning.
Ginny watched him go, her mouth set in a hard line.
“I’m sorry Hermione,” she thought. “But I have to keep my family safe.”
Hermione meticulously lined up the last of the food from her bag on her bedroom floor, sitting back on her bed to admire it. Rows and rows of granola bars, canned fruits and beans, corn, pickled vegetables, bags of rice, milk powder, crisps, flour, and more.
Carefully counting, she’d finally saved up enough food to last her six months. Levitating everything back into her small leather bag, she unfolded her map. With a red marker, she drew dashes for the ideal road to take, circling potential resting spots, starring the most populated places, and plotting the fastest way to get to her destination.
She was ready. Wait, no, not yet. There was one last thing to take care of.
Folding the map back up and tucking it next to her journal in her pocket, she walked out to the backyard, heading toward the shed. Grabbing a hoe on her way, she unlocked the door and entered, ready to swing.
A few minutes later, she walked out, a few dark splatters on her shirt. The hoe was nowhere to be seen.
Time to go.
After changing into clean clothes, she grabbed her keys, locked her door, and left.
Taking a miniature motorcycle out of her bag only took a few seconds. Unshrinking it, less than a minute. Wandlessly renewing the silencing charm on the engine as she got on was habit by now, and soon she was off, trusting the stabilization runes engraved on the seat to keep her safe.
Her tight braid flew behind her, she adjusted her goggles on her face. Hermione muttered under her breath.
“Dangerous…this is so damn dangerous…”
But she wasn’t going to turn back. Usually she’d do her best to stay calm and composed, but she wasn’t going to any normal place.
She was going back to London. Or more specifically, Diagon Alley. It was the only place she could get all of the magical supplies she needed in one go. Brooms, wands, potions, books…and hopefully an owl too. Then she’d be able to send a message to see…who’s left.
But the reason for her anxiety isn’t just because she’s going to the epicenter of wizarding shopping…It’s because London was crawling with the Infected, being one of the biggest cities with the biggest populations. Was she an idiot for traveling there? …Probably.
No, this was a calculated decision. Great risk, great reward, and all that.
If it came to it, she’d camp out on a roof somewhere for a night. However, with any luck, she’d be home before dark.
This wasn’t her first expedition out, but it was definitely the furthest.
Clenching her jaw, Hermione sped up slightly, keeping her eyes open for any obstacles or traps.
Caution was the name of the game.
Twice, she saw sharp glass lined across the road, and rolling her eyes, she rode right over it, thankful she spelled the shit out of her motorcycle. It was almost funny watching in the side mirrors as a couple men came out of hiding after she sped past their planned ambush to curse at her. Bloody bandits.
Hermione was careful to avoid big roads, taking side streets whenever possible. A few times she ran into other survivors, no one that she knew, but she still traded a small pack of biscuits for information on which roads were overtaken and which roads were safe, adjusting her plan accordingly.
She never got off her motorcycle though. They yelled information from a safe distance after she tossed the biscuits, and left the second the transaction ended.
Hermione wasn’t unaware of the greed in some of their eyes, and she wasn’t naive. A woman on her own with food made a tempting target in these times, and while she was perfectly capable of doing what she needed to survive, she was in a rush.
Nearing Diagon Alley, she went on foot, shrinking her ride and pocketing it. The streets were empty, cars left abandoned and ajar on the sidewalks.
She walked towards The Leaky Cauldron a few blocks away, occasionally having to duck inside a building to avoid a pack of Infected wandering about.
Eventually, she reached it, sucking in a sharp breath as she saw the state of it. The door was broken on the floor, familiar dark stains on them. Logically, she knew what happened, but it still made her swallow to see such a familiar place, clearly damned.
Silently, she entered, going straight to the back and tapping the brick like she’d done so many times before.
Only to freeze, as a familiar set of eyes met hers from just inside, filled with surprise and something else indecipherable. They were clearly positioned to take off on a broomstick, and she seemed to have caught them off-guard. Their jaw practically fell to the ground upon seeing her.
“…Granger?!”