A/N: Hello! I'm ready to sink into another WIP and I've got a few chapters stocked up so I thought it was time to share with you!

IMPORTANT: This is a love triangle. There will be side pairings and angst and jealousy and lots of other things that go along with such a situation. So please be aware of that before jumping in. If you have any specific questions about something that might trigger you in regards to the trope, my inbox and Tumblr Ask is always open!

EXTRA IMPORTANT: This plot is inspired by a well known feature film. Think big blockbuster! The thing is, I'm not going to tell you which one until it's painfully obvious. You know… spoilers and such. But, if you have a guess I'd love to hear it!

Without further adieu. Enjoy!

XXXXX

Hermione stepped onto the rickety porch, cradling a cup of tea that desperately needed a warming charm. Leaning over the railing, which was probably not the best idea, she stared across the rocky ledge, inspecting the rolling hills below.

Surrounding the other three sides of the safe house were sparse woods; the trunks of the trees were thin and their branches didn't begin for a dozen or so feet. It offered her a semblance of open space, although she was, for all intents and purposes, trapped.

Bringing the teacup to her lips, she winced at the bitter taste and swore, for the hundredth time, that she was going to request some damn sugar from Headquarters. She could live without many things, she'd found, but sugar in her tea just wasn't one of them.

A gust of wind swept through the forest and she shivered as colorful, crunchy leaves floated down towards the earth.

September.

September was her month. Not only was it her birthday month, which felt inconsequential in the wake of the summer, but it was a month for new school supplies and fresh leather-bound books. September meant Hogsmeade and the Gryffindor Common Room and hot cider on brisk mornings.

But not anymore.

Nothing was the same anymore.

Last she heard, Ron and Harry were near Wales. She'd been warned that some of the information they sent might not be correct, in case it was intercepted—so really, she had no idea where they were. That part hurt more than the rest.

They were due back at Grimmauld soon enough, by the month's end… maybe next.

Directly following Dumbledore's death, the few easily accessible Order members were gathered, and a hasty game plan set in motion. Harry and Ron had been tasked with Horcrux hunting; Moody was insistent that only two of them traipse off into the wilderness alone. The Order's numbers were abysmal, reinforced by a failing Auror system and a few vigilante groups with little resources and even fewer fighters.

So when Harry's eyes flickered between Hermione and Ron, unsure whom to ask, Hermione volunteered to stay behind and help with the war effort. It wouldn't be long, just the summer, she'd been reassured. Enough time to stock and ward the safe houses, train some recruits, and organize things at Headquarters.

She was nearly done with that now, and the next time Harry and Ron returned, she'd be going with them. Thank Merlin, Morgana, and all four founders for that. Too many more quiet nights in these safe houses and she was sure she'd go crazy.

Hermione had been a part of the team to set up the safe houses. Setting up a network of Floo's, cleaning them up, transfiguring furniture into usable beds, and establishing a small medi-center at each one.

The Surrey safe house, where she was now, was by far the most dilapidated. No one came here unless it was an absolute emergency and even then, if you could make it to Canterbury… you probably should.

But it was her baby. No one else seemed all too fond of it, what with the crumbling roof and leaking pipes, not to mention the smell – the distinct musk of wet, rotting wood.

But Merlin, the views. Nothing beat it. Even if there was no sugar and the tea was stale.

The sound of branches snapping above Hermione's head made her grin widen as she took a final sip of tea before setting it to the side, bracing herself for impact.

Moments later, the clumsy flight of Gofer, the long-eared grey owl that could barely manage a flight across the lawn, came into view.

He was the most peculiar bird. His feathers stuck up drastically on either side of his face and his eyes were severe and golden yellow. If he were a human, he'd be Alastor Moody. Glowering at all of them with a critical eye. She swore Gofer's very gaze screamed, "CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" and that's what made his extreme discoordination all the more hysterical.

The bird swept down, wings even and strong, and a determined set to his eyes until the wind clipped his wing and he toppled onto the porch with a thud, a parcel slipping from his beak and knocking into her ankles.

Her fingers flew up to stifle her giggle as he popped up, ruffling his feathers and looking around the area suspiciously. Tiny feet hopped towards her as he gave a low hoot, alerting her that he was, indeed, fine.

"Thanks, Gofer," Hermione said, squatting down to pet the top of his head. For all of his severe characteristics, he couldn't help but receive a good pet. His ears folded down and he pressed his head into her hand before returning to his business like stature. "Tell HQ I say thanks." She jerked her chin towards the miniature parcel and gave him a wink. "Fly safe."

Gofer ducked his head, spreading his wings wide before taking flight, catching only two branches on his exit.

Hermione watched him until he disappeared on the horizon, before plucking the minature box from the porch and returning inside.

The walls of the safe house were made of thin planks of wood, so she supposed cabin would be a more appropriate term for the space. The wood-burning fireplace in the corner gave off little heat to the surrounding lumpy furniture and barely any at all to the adjacent kitchenette. And despite the grandeur of Bristol house and the comfort of Canterbury, this is the place that felt the most like home.

She placed the box down and snagged her wand from her waistband, waving it over the parcel and casting 'Finite'. The box quickly grew to its normal size, standing almost to her waist, and she pried the top open easily.

Inside was the normal supply delivery: canned goods, dried meat—some fresh, but not much—boxes of non-perishables, and… Hermione nearly gasped when her fingers closed around a bottle of red wine. It was probably worth a handful of knuts, but these days, it was a luxury.

Below the food were various sets of clothing, both male and female, as well as toiletries for anyone stuck in the safe house, and she immediately took them to the dressers and single bath at the end of the hall.

There were only two rooms, making it the smallest of all the Order safe houses. The one to the left boasted two sets of bunk beds, while the one to the right had two full size beds. At any given time, nine to ten fighters could be lodging here.

But most nights, it was only her.

The war had been relatively quiet thus far. Dumbledore's death had silenced everything, or so it seemed.

Truthfully, the Order had gone underground for war preparation. There were now strategists, field fighters, and resources stock piled. Safe houses were littered all around London, in Surrey, Bristol, Canterbury, and Sussex. Not to mention the half a dozen up near Scotland and Wales.

The heart of the campaign would be the Golden Trio. Well, once the third part of the trio could be reunited with the other two parts, that is. They had one mission, to hunt down the remaining Horcruxes and more importantly, find a way to destroy them.

Hermione only needed to remind herself that the time was coming. A few more weeks, maybe a month, left of this, and she'd be out there again. It was just a matter of time.

XXXXX

The following week Hermione found herself dropping off excess supplies to Canterbury house. They had sent an abundance to Surrey, far more than necessary, and while she could always rely on Gofer to get the job done, as sloppy as it may be, she also liked to make the rounds to check on the other houses.

With her canvas duffle slung over her shoulder, she stepped over the threshold of the large home. She waited for the onslaught of noise, inevitable as it was, and her nose wrinkled until she heard the riotous shouting coming from the kitchen. With a knowing grin, she turned towards it.

Canterbury house was much nicer than Surrey. The land was far flatter and it had a somewhat working farm out back. There were nearly three times as many rooms and an additional living space that could easily house extra bodies and for that reason, it was always full.

The space was bright and clean; large farm windows covered nearly every wall (which had been a complete pain in her arse to ward, might she add).

As Hermione stepped through the wide arc of the kitchen from the hall, her grin faded, a scowl taking its place.

Seamus and Dean were there, and Luna lounged by the window, curled between Neville's thighs as he read a book over her shoulder. However, none of these sights were what caused her distress.

It was Malfoy, leaning smugly along the counter, Theo Nott at his flank. Seamus was doubled over in laughter, explaining something or other to Malfoy whose signature smirk waned upon laying eyes on her.

He coughed into his hand, straightening his spine as he jerked a brow in her direction and the rest of the room noticed her for the first time.

"Hi, Hermione," Seamus greeted quickly, turning back to his conversation with Draco, his face red from the exertion of his laughter.

"Seamus. Dean." She nodded, laying the duffle on the counter. "Surrey got—"

"Hi, Hermione!" Luna interrupted brightly, her eyes wide and fingers tickling the air.

Hermione chuckled, her eyes crinkling as she waved back. "Hi, Luna. Anyway, Surrey got a surplus of supplies so I thought I'd drop them by. See how things are faring over here."

Unzipping the bag, Dean let his sandwich hang from his teeth for a moment as he peered inside. "I don't know why you stay out there," he mused, snatching the sandwich from his mouth and swallowing his bite. "You know, there's room to spare here. Bristol even more so."

Her eyes flickered to the pair of "reformed" Slytherins lounging a few feet away and grimaced. "It's quiet there." Flinching as another boisterous laugh boomed from Seamus' chest, she rolled her eyes. "I brought most of the fresh goods here, they won't last in Surrey."

"Staying the night, Hermione?" Seamus managed as he wiped tears from his blushed cheeks.

Her lips quirked up in a half smile. "Thinking about it. I was just gonna check out the infirmary. Poppy wants a list of supplies that need to be stocked."

In the corner, Neville disentangled himself from Luna and approached the island in the middle of the kitchen. "Did you get the missive?" Neville leaned over the tile with a low brow. "I think something big is happening—and soon."

Her eyes again flickered to the pair by the counter and she gulped. "I did. I'll be at Grimmauld for the meeting." She coughed into her fist and gave Neville a tight smile. "I think I need some air."

As she passed Luna, her friend lifted her fingers and reached for Hermione's, squeezing once before Hermione stepped through the backdoor. She sucked a greedy breath through her teeth as she stared at the flat farm lands in front of her, relishing in the burn of the cold air in her throat.

It'd been months since the pair of snakes had come slithering around. And although it had been tense during the early weeks, most of the Order seemed to have since let them acclimate into the folds.

Hermione didn't have such an easy time.

The night of Dumbledore's death, Malfoy had apparently confessed. Dropped his wand and begged for clemency. Dumbledore gave him a single word, a word she still didn't know, and that was all he needed to be embraced by the Order.

None of it really made sense to her, but even in death, the Order followed Dumbledore. It wasn't her place to question the moves, just to play her role until Harry and Ron returned.

The door creaked open behind her and she stiffened, her jaw tightening as she peeked over her shoulder.

Just Luna.

"Hello there," she smiled, weaving her arm through the crook of Hermione's elbow. "Sickle for your thoughts?"

Hermione stared at the changing leaves of the trees on the horizon and her lips folded together. "Things feel like they're changing, don't they?"

"They always do in Autumn." Luna's clear blue eyes sparkled up at her and Hermione returned the smile. "In Greek mythology, the September solstice was quite the affair."

"Oh?" Hermione sighed, a chuckle slightly shaking her shoulders.

"When she ascended from the Underworld, she brought with her spring and summer, but when the Autumn equinox came, she returned to her husband."

Hermione nodded along, unable to draw whatever connection she was supposed to from Luna's musings. Her friend was clever, far more clever than most people gave her credit for, but that didn't mean that Hermione understood the half of it.

"Feels that way, doesn't it? We were living in the darkness for so long. Then we had this small reprieve the last few months." Luna levied a tired sigh. "I'm scared we're due back to the Underworld... I don't think we can ignore the call much longer."

A shiver crawled up Hermione's spine and pressure prickled at her sinuses. "I hope we're ready, Luna."

Luna's tightened her embrace, resting her temple on Hermione's shoulder. "I don't think we have much choice, I'm afraid."

XXXXX

She stayed at Canterbury that night. Stayed. She didn't sleep, not really. And once the door creaked open and the quiet steps of Malfoy and Theo sounded, falling into the bunk beds across the room, she sure as hell didn't rest.

As soon as the sun broke over the horizon she was out of bed, her overnight bag slung over her shoulder. This is exactly the reason she preferred Surrey house. Very few surprise visits.

Back in the kitchen, she pulled out a muffin and warmed it. Butter and preserves were in the ice box, but Hermione felt guilty claiming any and instead ate it dry. Plopping onto the counter stool, she pulled a book on advanced defensive magic from her bag.

Hermione had made it a peaceful three pages before she heard stomping down the wooden stairs. Her gaze fluttered towards the door frame and when Malfoy strolled in, still tugging his t-shirt over his torso, she froze, her spine straightening and jaw clenching.

"You're up early, Granger," he smirked, plucking an apple from the counter. He didn't wash it, didn't bite it. Just tossed it back and forth, watching its slow arc from hand to hand.

"Yes," she clipped. "As are you." She returned her attention to her book, determined not to be distracted by him.

For as undeniably handsome as Malfoy was, he was equally as aware of his handsomeness. It was infuriating. He was also smug, pernicious, and condescendingly clever. She didn't trust him, not as far as she could throw him, and Hermione Granger could boast of many things, but brute strength was simply not one of them.

"Ready for the meeting?" Malfoy leaned over the counter, his pale forearms resting on the ivory tiles and Hermione's eyes widened at his sudden proximity.

"Yes."

He chuckled, tossing the apple in the air again and snatching it quickly from its trajectory like a snitch. "I thought you knew words longer than a single syllable. Or is it just me? Do I render you speechless, Granger?"

Hermione's jaw fell open with an audible pop, her eyes narrowing at the presumptuous little prick and she swore there was a jinx playing on her tongue that begged to be spoken.

"Did it occur to you that I just don't like speaking to you?" she asked brusquely, her lips pursing into a tight frown.

"You see, it did… but then I reckoned that was unlikely. Unbelievable. Unfathomable. Improbable. Inconceivable. Preposterous, even." His lips pulled into a wicked, taunting smirk and Hermione wanted nothing more than to smack him… just one more time. It was an itch that desperately demanded to be scratched and with just one flick of her wrist—

"Did you want me to continue? I'm a veritable trove of words containing more than one syllable. Maybe I could give you a lesson or two."

"You're a cretin, Malfoy." Hermione slammed her book shut and shoved it back in her bag.

"Oh hoh oh!" Malfoy huffed happily. "Two syllables. Don't stress it, Granger. I don't think you're at risk of losing any of your many accolades as brightest witch of whatever the fuck anytime soon. It'll be our little secret."

She swore she had every intention of walking out the door and to the Apparition point. But whenever he spoke, it grated against her carefully tuned patience until she snapped, and she crossed the distance between them, jamming her forefinger into his sternum.

"What is your problem with me, Malfoy? What is it that gives you such a hard on for riling me up? I don't bother you, don't mention your name. You're nothing to me. So why? Why do we have to have these little altercations every time I come around?"

The fine lines around Malfoy's eyes crinkled as he stepped dangerously towards her, and despite her best efforts, she took a quick step back. "Maybe I just like watching you squirm. As I see it, you've got a broomstick shoved far up your arse that I'm surprised you're able to stand upright. Maybe all you need is to loosen up—" His lashes flitted closed in a quick wink while his gaze settled on her lips.

It was Hermione's turn to step into his space and a smug smirk worked its way onto his lips until he bumped into the counter behind him. "My arse and any squirming it does are of no concern to you, Malfoy. I appreciate the look out, but perhaps you should focus on undoing some of the mess you created for us last Spring."

Malfoy flinched away from her words, huffing an indignant little breath and brushing his tongue over his perfect teeth. "Guess you know everything then, Granger."

"Wouldn't be the first time," she retorted, her brow inching up towards her hairline as she breathed heavily in his space. "See you at Grimmauld, prat."

Hermione snatched her bag from the counter and stormed from the kitchen, ignoring the sound of his teeth cutting through the skin of his unwashed apple.

XXXXX

A/N: Biggest of thanks to my Alpha and Beta: MCal and In Dreams. I'm so lucky to know such talented women who want to work with me and help me grow! Hope you enjoyed chapter 1 and I look forward to bringing some more updates to you soon! For now you can expect weekly updates, but once my chappie bank is nice and stocked, I'll return to my regular update schedule. (Once I finish drafting a chapter, I'll post the next!)

I am creating an appendix of sorts! You can find it on AO3 as FFN doesn't really allow pictures in documents. I'll be posting aesthetics and fan casts pertaining to the story there as well as on my Tumblr (Ladykenz347).

Your reviews make my muse sing and for that I'm eternally grateful. If you have time to let me know what you think, I'd jump up and down and send sweet sugary internet kisses your way.