Chapter 34

The Order of the Phoenix had gone completely silent. For more than a week, there had been no news, only the wind howling outside as if carrying whispers of loss.

On a gusty Saturday morning, Ron, out of habit, turned on the radio at the breakfast table. He didn’t expect it to connect, yet this time, it did.

Hermione, who for the past week had been eating her meals like a task to be completed, froze. The knife and fork slipped from her trembling fingers and clattered against the plate.

Ron and Harry weren’t any calmer. For a split second, they both looked startled, then elated. The three of them leaned in close to the radio.

“Thump, thump—” someone was tapping on a microphone.

“Good morning, listeners,” came Fred’s voice.

“Ready?” That was Kingsley.

“Ready,” Fred replied.

“Right. As everyone knows, our broadcast was temporarily suspended due to the SS-level emergency alert. From today onward, we’ll be resuming regular programming. First of all, good news. This afternoon, the alert level will be downgraded to S. And rest assured, our leader, codename Skoll, is alive.” Kingsley’s calm, steady voice filled the room.

“Yeah! And let me just say, Skoll’s the person I admire most right now. You lot have no idea what he pulled off—” George’s voice cut in before fading, as if someone had yanked him away from the mic.

“As you may have read in the Daily Prophet, the outer headquarters of the Order was destroyed. But contrary to those reports, the Ministry of Magic did not launch an attack after uncovering our information. All records and identities remain secure. The SS-level alert was triggered solely to purge all data. The infiltration happened because a traitor leaked the address through a Portkey, he’s been confirmed dead. The reduction to S-level is purely a precaution. The Order of the Phoenix continues to fight on the front lines.”

Kingsley’s calm voice steadied the air before he continued, “And now, the real news from this past week—”

“Hi everyone! I’m Little A, and here’s what’s been happening—”

Both Ron and Harry let out a long breath of relief. Ron turned to Hermione.

Her eyes were rimmed with red. She wasn’t sure whether this meant what she hoped it did.

“Hermione, she’s going to be fine,” Harry said softly.

“Yeah,” Ron added, trying for levity, “Did you hear George? I’ve never heard him say he admired anyone before.”

The broadcast ended sooner than usual, barely fifteen minutes.

Harry and Ron finished their breakfast, but Hermione’s bowl was still half full. It had been like that all week; she ate slowly, but she made sure to finish every meal.

The boys exchanged a glance, murmured a goodbye, and left the dining room.

Hermione stared at her porridge. She scooped up another spoonful, though she had no appetite. But she remembered what Dayna had told her, and forced herself to eat.

Then,

Bzzzz,

Her phone vibrated in her pocket.

Clink,

The spoon fell back into the bowl.

Her hand shook as she pulled out the phone. The screen showed an unknown number. She pressed “Answer.”

“Hello?”

“Hey, Hermione—” Anne’s voice came through, light, almost playful. “Good morning.”

Hermione bit her lip hard to stop the tears that rose to her eyes.

“Why aren’t you saying anything?” Anne teased gently, then let out a soft laugh. “I missed you. Did you miss me?”

“Anne…” Hermione’s voice trembled, barely a whisper.

“Mhm? I’m here,” Anne said. In the background, a man’s voice called out, “Reminder: you have ten minutes of call time.”

“Got it!” Anne called back, before muffling a cough into her hand. When she spoke again, her voice was softer. “There’s this serious old man looking after me. I probably won’t be able to come see you until next week.”

“Okay…”

“Good. Promise me something, have you been eating properly while I’m gone?”

“Yes.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“I believe you,” Anne said with a smile in her voice. “I’ve been eating, sleeping, and resting too.”

“Anne…”

“Mhm?”

“Don’t scare me like that again.”

There was so much fear and pleading in Hermione’s tone that Anne’s chest tightened. She wanted to promise, but she couldn’t. Not honestly.

The Order might have destroyed its records, but the betrayal had cut deep, and the ripples of it were far from over.

“Hermione,” she said softly, “All I can promise is that next time, I’ll make sure there’s always someone beside me to protect me.”

Hermione didn’t respond. She knew this answer, it was the same kind of reassurance Anne had given before. A horned Niffler’s armor, she remembered; that was how Anne had once survived. What kind of injuries had she suffered this time, to remain unconscious for over a week? Why another week before she could come?

She didn’t want to think about it, but her mind filled in the blanks anyway, each thought heavier than the last.

Anne stifled another cough.

“Anne?”

“I’m here.”

“I want to see you.”

Anne frowned, which tugged painfully at the bandages over her left eye. She hissed softly through her teeth.

“Hermione, London is dangerous right now. I can’t let you take that risk.”

“But you’re there. I can come alone. I’ll borrow Harry’s Invisibility Cloak, no one will see me. If you just tell me the address, I can Apparate safely. And I’ll come around noon, according to Order data, that’s when most Death Eaters on surveillance duty switch shifts, so the chance of being spotted is minimal. I’ll only stay a short while, fifteen minutes, half an hour tops, the risk window is the lowest statistically—”

Hermione spoke quickly, her mind running through every mission protocol and safety chart she’d ever memorized.

Anne couldn’t help a helpless laugh. Merlin, she thought, I really did fall for the smartest, and most persuasive, witch alive.

“Please?” Hermione asked at last, her voice small. “I just… want to see you.”

A muffled cough came from the other end.

“And if I say no?” Anne asked.

Hermione drew in a shaky breath. “Then I’ll probably come to London anyway,” she said quietly. “Honestly, I almost did already. Ron stopped me. But I can’t control it, Anne. I’m scared… Please, let me see you.”

Her raw honesty hit Anne like a spell. Guilt and affection tangled in her chest.

“…Alright. But—”

“Today at noon!” Hermione blurted, already standing up. “After I get back, we’ll change locations tonight!”

“Hermione, you—” Anne sighed. There really was no arguing with her.

“Fine. I’ll send Dobby to you. Right now, only house-elves can move around without being noticed. You’ll wear the Invisibility Cloak and wait outside your wards. He’ll Apparate you here, alright?”

“Alright. What time exactly?” Hermione’s tone was lighter now, her earlier gloom finally lifting.

“Twelve-thirty. Eat something before you come, I don’t have anything good here.”

“Do you need me to bring food? Maybe some porridge—”

“I can’t eat anything tasty right now,” Anne said, smiling faintly. “Just come.”

“Anne, hand me the phone—”

“Ah, Grandpa Orlens, just ten more seconds, please?” Anne pleaded, her voice half a laugh.

Hermione couldn’t help smiling. “Then it’s settled,” she said softly.

“Settled. See you at noon, Hermione.”

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The line went dead. Hermione lowered the phone slowly, tucking it back into her pocket. For the first time in days, she smiled.

She finished the rest of her cold breakfast in a few quick bites, then walked into the living room.

Harry and Ron were both sitting on the couch with open books, though Ron’s was upside down. Clearly, they’d just sat down, having been eavesdropping the whole time.