Disclaimer: All hail Jo Rowling for giving us Harry and his world.

A.N. After that last fic of mine, I found I couldn't wait to write another one. So here we are, fic No. 2, and I hope you guys like it. One thing though, this one will be much darker than the last. Lots of teen angst and such. Just so you know.

Come What May

Chapter One

Hogwarts had let out six weeks ago, and Hermione Granger could not wait to get back. Her sixth year had been full of unpleasant and unexpected surprises, which would normally be expected, but not this time. At the end of the term six weeks ago, Professor Dumbledore had been murdered. Murdered in cold blood by someone Hermione had always thought had given up his ways. Professor Snape had been living a double life all year, and finally fulfilled what Draco Malfoy should have done. Snape killed Albus Dumbledore.

Now, you may wonder, why did Hermione want to go back to Hogwarts so bad when the greatest headmaster Hogwarts had ever seen was dead? The answer was quite simple really. She needed to go back for her final year to wrap up her education and get out there to face reality.

It had finally hit her, almost as hard as a freight train, after Dumbledore died. She needed to get her head out of the sand and realize that S.P.E.W. was not going to take her anywhere in life. Now that she thought about it, the whole thing seemed worthless. Why would she want to spend her time trying to free house elves when they didn't want it to begin with, and when Voldemort was out there killing everyone within reach?

So Hermione had decided to do the most purposeful and obvious thing: she decided to become an Auror. She had decided to keep it a secret, after all, who could you trust anymore? The only person she had confided in was Harry Potter. He made the most sense, he wanted to become an Auror now more than ever. Dumbledore's death had wrought an alarming change in Harry. Sure, after everything he had ever been through, he still had somewhat of an innocent side left, but now that Dumbledore was gone, Harry had suddenly become much more of a man. He had shouldered more than she or Ron had ever dealt with, and took it in stride. Now Hermione could see what a great Auror he would be.

At the moment, Hermione was sitting by her window, staring out at the moonlit night, unable to go back to sleep after waking from a particularly disturbing nightmare. Ever since the term ended, Hermione had been unable to get a restful night's sleep. Her sleep was plagued by nightmares now; almost every night she lost another person she loved at the hands of Voldemort and his Death Eaters. And every night, she would wake up sobbing or tangled in her sweat-soaked sheets and be unable to go back to sleep.

For the past few nights, Hermione had been dreaming of her parents' deaths. Each night, their deaths became a little more brutal. Hermione just chalked it up to her underlying fear that Voldemort would come after her family because she was close to Harry and because she was a Mudblood. After all, she'd been dreaming of all her friends' deaths for the past month, why should this be any different?

She looked over at her alarm clock. It was a little after three in the morning. She sighed and rubbed her itching, aching eyes. She wanted to sleep so bad, but she knew as soon as she drifted off, she would be plagued by somebody else's death.

She got up and went to her wardrobe. She pulled out her robe and some clean under things and headed into her bathroom.

"Might as well take a bloody shower, I can't sleep anyways," she muttered to herself as she turned the water on.

After a long, blasting hot shower, Hermione emerged forty-five minutes later clad in her robe and terribly tired. Knowing it was going to be another long, hot summer day, she rummaged through her wardrobe to find something appropriate for the day.

After six years of being known as the bookworm, Hermione had just about had enough of the whole routine. After Dumbledore died, she realized life was too short to go with the same routine constantly. So, as an extremely early birthday present from her parents, she had gone on a shopping spree and bought an entirely new wardrobe. She took all her old clothes to a second hand store and dumped them off.

Hermione flicked through all her clothes before pulling out a plaid mini schoolgirl skirt and her favorite black t-shirt. It was her favorite because, while form fitting, it had only a skinny strap going over her right shoulder, while the other side had a normal sleeve. She found it oddly fitting to her mood at the moment: grumpy, sick of life, the underlying fear of everyone dying, and extremely tired. Black just fit at the moment.

She was also secretly pleased that her physical appearance had taken a definite upturn. No longer was her hair bushy and lifeless. It had grown down past her shoulders and become more sleek and naturally wavy, not frizzy. Her figure had also blossomed. She was no longer shapeless, she was all curves, though very fit, as she had taken to running every night after dinner. She noticed every time she went out now that she was getting a lot more attention from guys.

'It's gotta be better than what it was before. Before I had nothing,' she had mused to herself one day after getting a particularly loud wolf whistle from a passing guy.

Thankfully her parents weren't with her at that particular moment.

Once the sun had fully risen, she waited in her room until she heard her mom go downstairs to start breakfast. As her mother and father were both dentists, they ate an early breakfast to get to the office early.

Hermione went over to her window and threw it open to let in the sweet morning summer air. She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply to calm her frazzled nerves and to wake her up. When she opened her eyes, she had just enough time to jump aside before a handsome eagle owl came crashing into her head.

The owl landed with a soft flump on her bed and ruffled its feathers importantly. Tied to its leg was a thick parchment envelope bearing the Hogwarts crest. She went over to it and untied the envelope and gave it a quick stroke on the head before it took off again.

She pulled out the usual thick sheets of parchment bearing the list of supplies and books she would need for the upcoming year. Just as she was about to put the envelope down, though, she noticed that there was something lumpy still in the bottom of it. She turned it upside down and out slid a shiny red and gold badge. She turned it over and her heart skipped a beat.

She was Head Girl.

Hermione gave a shriek of joy and collapsed onto her bed, laughing fit to burst. All that studying and sainthood stature had finally paid off.

'Too bad I've decided to be not such a nice girl anymore,' she thought wryly.

She set down the badge and picked up the usual letter from Professor McGonagall. She read through it, and when she reached the bottom, her heart skipped another beat. Where Professor McGonagall normally signed off as deputy headmistress now read Headmistress.

Hermione felt tears welling up in her eyes almost immediately and quickly brushed them away.

"Don't be stupid, you knew he was gone. What did you expect, things to stay the same?" she asked herself.

By this time, the smells of breakfast were starting to waft up the stairs into her bedroom, so Hermione picked up her new Head Girl badge and headed downstairs to tell her parents the news.

"Oh, sweetie, that's fantastic news!" Mrs. Granger exclaimed and turned away from the stove to hug her daughter.

"Well done, Hermione. We knew you had it in you," Mr. Granger said as he pulled Hermione into a hug after her mother had let go.

"Thanks Mum. Thanks Dad. I guess all that studying paid off, huh?"

"It will help you later on after school too. It can't hurt to be Head Girl if you want to become an Auror, can it?" Mrs. Granger asked.

"I suppose not."

Breakfast was eaten quickly and then her parents were out the door, calling good byes to Hermione as they went.

She went about cleaning up the kitchen as she normally did after her parents left, thinking longingly of when she could go back to bed, and dreading the next nightmare. After she cleaned the kitchen up, she went back upstairs to brush out her hair and put some makeup on. She decided she would go into Diagon Alley today and pick up all her supplies for school. Her parents had left out the money she would need, and some extra in case she saw something she liked.

A half an hour later, Hermione emerged out into the bright sunshine of another hot summer day. She walked into downtown London to the Leaky Cauldron, where the entrance to Diagon Alley was.

She noted that the Leaky Cauldron was scarcely more busy than it was the last time she was in there last summer. People simply did not go out anymore for fear of an attack. When she walked through the archway to Diagon Alley, an almost deserted scene greeted her. The makeshift stalls were still along the cobblestone street, shifty looking characters were still selling the worthless rubbish that was supposed to protect you against dementor attacks and most curses and jinxes.

She glared at the shifty salesmen as they approached her with their wares.

"Like I would waste my money on that rubbish," she snapped at a particularly persistent bugger who was trying to save her 'pretty' neck from the Killing Curse.

The man stalked away, throwing her a filthy look as he went.

Hermione went about buying her books after a lengthy wait in Gringotts to exchange her money for the Wizarding currency. The salesman in Flourish and Blotts looked relieved to have a customer. He confided in Hermione that she was the first in a week, and though the school term was fast approaching, he said sadly that he really didn't expect business to pick up.

"It's awful. Business never dropped off this much the last time You-Know-Who was active. The hysteria is a tenfold worse, it's driving us all mad."

Hermione thanked him and went to Madam Malkin's robe shop to get some new robes, as she had grown at least six more inches since the term ended.

She decided, once she emerged from Madam Malkin's, that she really wanted an owl, and as she had bought everything she needed, and had plenty of money left over, she would walk down to the Magical Menagerie to buy one.

The shop was smelly, crowded with cages, noisy, and dark. She was just able to discern a cluttered counter in the back of the shop where she could pay. Hermione walked up and down the walls, looking for the owl that she wanted. There were many squawks and rustles of feathers as she prodded each of the birds awake, looking them over. Finally, she spotted a beautiful chestnut owl with large amber eyes.

"Why hello there, you're a pretty one, aren't you?" She asked the bird as she stroked its beak with her finger tip.

The owl hooted and closed its eyes lazily.

Hermione left Diagon Alley laden with packages and her pockets lighter than they were when she entered. She stopped for a bite to eat in the bar, where Tom the barman was more than willing to serve her, as the lack of customers was conspicuous once more.

She was just gathering up her packages again when a faint ringing reached her ears and echoed ominously in the silent bar. It was coming from her purse.

"Stupid phone," she grumbled as she dug for her cell phone.

"Hello?"

There was no answer.

"Hello?" she asked more persistently.

There was still no answer.

Frowning, she brought the phone before her eyes to look at the number. It was the number to her parents' dentist office.

Her heart began to race quickly. Her fear, always so close to the surface these days, increased by a thousand fold. She grabbed the table for support as she swayed precariously, still clutching the phone.

"Something wrong, miss?"

Hermione jumped. Tom had come to collect her dirty dishes.

"No," she gasped out. "Nothing at all."

She began to think quickly.

'Okay, there might not be anything wrong. Mum's called once before on accident and not said anything. But then, my number isn't exactly easy to confuse with anyone else's. So there must be something wrong. I'll just nip down to their office and see what they wanted. Mum probably just got interrupted by a patient or something, and had to hang up. That's why nobody answered me. That's got to be it. I'll just go down there and see what's up.'

She turned to see where Tom went. He was back behind the bar.

"Tom?" she called. "Tom!"

He turned to face her. "Yes miss?"

"Could I ask you a favor?"

"Certainly miss. What can I do for you?"

She gestured to her packages. "Could you keep these safe for me? I have to go somewhere at the moment, and I can't get home before I go. Can you keep them for me until I get back?"

Tom bowed. "Certainly miss. I'll care for the owl. And your things will be safe, mark my words. They'll be here when you get back."

"Thanks Tom!" she called as she left the bar quickly.

The sun had nearly set as she walked along the streets, busy with people returning home from work. For once, Hermione kept her head down and walked quickly, not looking at anyone or any of the windows of the shops.

Her steps beat the familiar path she had always walked to get to her parents' office. Whether a hundred or a thousand times, she had lost count, but her feet knew the way. She tried to concentrate on getting the horrible thoughts out of her head as she walked along, trying to ignore the ceaseless thumping of her heart and the quick breaths she was taking to try and steady her nerves.

She turned down the street that the office was on and began to walk quicker, ignoring her surroundings. That's when something caught her eye. Something huge and glaring in the sky over her parents' office.

Hermione stopped dead in her tracks as people continued to surge around her, apparently oblivious to the huge, glaring Dark Mark in the sky above them.

"Oh, my God," she breathed.

As she approached the building, her hand went to the waist band of her skirt, where she kept her wand stashed at all times now. She clutched its handle tightly, her hand sweating profusely.

The door was slightly ajar, as though someone had neglected to shut it tight. Hermione took a deep breath, looked up and down the street, which was still full of commuters, and kicked the door open.

A scene of total devastation greeted her. The waiting room was completely demolished. Chairs were upended and thrown about the room, magazines had been ripped to shreds and tossed around, the files of patients had been thrown about and stepped on, the couch had been shredded violently and stuffing was still flying through the air.

There were no bodies in the waiting room, a dark sign. Hermione whipped out her wand and crept further into the room, keeping as silent as possible. The door leading to the hallway that led to the back of the office was ajar. As she crept forward, the lights began to flicker. She jumped, but quickly composed herself.

None of the secretaries were in the file room. Hermione stuck her head through the glass and craned her neck to see over the counter. What she saw nearly made her throw up. The secretaries were lying motionless on the floor, all twisted in grotesque angles. The blonde's head was twisted viciously, as though her neck had been snapped. The brunette was lying on her back, her stomach ripped open. Blood coated the linoleum floor.

Hermione withdrew her head and leaned up against the wall, her eyes closed and her breathing labored. If the secretaries met their fates that way, what would her parents look like?

Anger filled her like poison. It left a bitter taste in her mouth, like copper and something else unidentifiably disgusting. She gripped her wand with renewed strength and stalked quietly over to the door leading to the back and kicked it wide open.

More ripped paper coated the floor in the hall as she crept forward. Each examining room she passed greeted her with no bodies, only chaos, as the furniture and tools in each were thrown around the room. In one room, the scraping tools were sticking out of the walls. Hermione stared at them for a moment before moving on.

She reached the end of the hall, where the door into her parents' private office was. She tried the knob. It was locked.

"Alohomora," she whispered, pointing her wand at the door.

It didn't budge when she tried to open it.

"Damn it! Open!" she screamed, kicking out at the door in her fury.

The door flew off the hinges and bounced off the wall inside the office.

She crept forward, clutching her wand so hard, her hand was going numb.

Blood was spattered on the walls, like a gruesome paint job. The desk was on its side, the chairs that normally stood in front of it were broken next to a wall, as though they had been thrown at the wall. The bookcases were stripped of the books, which were torn on the floor. Hermione felt only a moment of sadness for the wasted books before she stepped through the mess and saw them.

Her mother was lying on her side, her eyes wide and staring, her face frozen in a look of terror. Her neck was twisted savagely and she had multiple stabs wounds. Unless, were those from a curse?

Her father was lying on his stomach, face down, near her mother. He too bore multiple stab wounds in his back. Hermione's hands shook as she knelt to turn him over. This time, she couldn't hold it in. She gave a cry of horror as she took in her father's appearance.

His face had been slashed horribly, as though done by claws. His torso had also been slashed by claws, and as Hermione looked away, she thought she saw something that looked horribly like a bit of intestine hanging out of the gaping wounds.

Hermione looked around, like a lost child. That's when she saw it. Taped to the wall nearest her parents' bodies was a simple piece of parchment, written in what looked like red ink. She ripped it from the wall and read it.

Dearest Mudblood-

Love what we've done to the place? Pity the secretaries had to die too. Such a pretty thing the blonde was. We had our fun in the end with her though. I daresay you like what we've done to your poor parents? Your father fought bravely, trying to defend your mother. He didn't last long though. Fenrir had the pleasure of finishing him. You'd best watch your back from now on Granger, you're next on our list. Pity we couldn't finish you off today too. Be warned, Mudblood. Even precious Harry Potter won't be able to save your neck this time. Remember what I say Granger. Watch your back.

Best wishes,

Lucius Malfoy

Hermione cried out again when she realized that what she had thought was red ink really was her parents' blood.

She stumbled from the office, her mind blank and her body cold and numb. She ran from the building, screaming.

"Help me! Somebody! Help me, please!"

People stared at her in alarm, as though she was crazy.

"There are people back there! Dead! Help me, somebody!"

She sank down in the middle of the sidewalk, sobbing uncontrollably as people skirted her, like she was a disease. She took no notice.

"Somebody just help me, please," she whispered through her sobs.

Hermione had no recollection of what happened next. She was lost in her haze of horror and loss as her mind showed her flashes of what she had just witnessed.

She never even bothered to question why she went from the middle of a London sidewalk to the middle of the kitchen in number twelve, Grimmauld Place, the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix.