A/N: Hey fellow fangirls/boys/nonbinaries! I'm Eliza, and I first uploaded this fanfic about two years ago. I've had so many ideas on where to take this story, but I haven't been so motivated recently, and haven't written a chapter in a while. I'm writing to you from June 2016. I have decided to revise/edit the chapters to brush up the writing. I hope that this gets me back into this fic, but we'll just see how it goes. Thank you in advance for reading! I appreciate it so much. Ily. -Eliza

"The daily things we do

For money or for fun

Can disappear like dew

Or harden and live on.

Strange reciprocity:

The circumstance we cause

In time gives rise to us,

Becomes our memory.

-'The Daily Things We Do'

by Philip Larkin

Hermione closed her muggle studies textbook and inhaled the cool air of the courtyard. It was one of those brisk autumn days that weren't too cool, yet had a tinge in the atmosphere that let you know that fall was here. The faint breeze twirled through her frizzy hair, and her face broke into a relaxed smile as the sun poured down onto her face, bathing her eyelids in the warmth. It struck Hermione as both interesting yet familiar how muggles connected with the mind and heart using poetry. Having grown up in the muggle world she had the insight on things that the non-magical people hold close to their hearts. In this case, Hermione loved how poetry seemed like nonsense, but actually displayed truths that relate to human life. Although she had dropped the subject years ago, she still kept her muggle studies book, for it felt like a link to home.

Her gaze to the sky was disconnected by a splash of mud flinging on to the back of her neck. "Oi! Hermione!" Hermione didn't even have to fake a smile for the sake of socializing, the grin painted itself onto her face. She'd recognize those two voices any day. Without even turning around, she said "Ron, Harry, how are you?"

"Great! Fantastic!" they exclaimed together. Hermione chuckled and spun to face them. Two incandescent sets of eyes met hers. One, the most peculiar and intriguing green, and the other a smooth, almost liquid-like blue. She immediately looked down. As she expected, they were both drenched in mud, but their brilliant smiles outshone the dirt. "Guess who made the quidditch team?" Ron beamed. Hermione's grin only widened, and although the answer was quite obvious, she played along.

"Who?" she asked excitedly.

"I did!" Ron yelled. Hermione laughed.

"That's great," she breathed.

The three of them started walking. "So, Harry, how WERE the the quidditch tryouts?"

"Pretty great. Ginny, Demelza Robins, and Katie are chasers, and Jimmie and Ritchie are beaters. And, well, Ron is the Keeper again." Hermione beamed, but soon noticed Ron's smile drooping, like a switch flicked off inside him.

"I'll probably be a screw-up again like last year," sighed Ron; discourage creeping up on his face, where, to Hermione, it wasn't welcome. Her thoughts skipped back to the awful song 'Weasley Is Our King.' Her heart went out for him.

"Cheer up mate, you were far better than that rotten McLaggen guy!" Harry spoke. Hermione's heart skipped a beat as she tried to push down the guilt fighting its way up in her. Neither boy was aware of the stunt she pulled behind the stands of the pitch. She tried to focus not on the jinx performed on McLaggen by her hand, but the looks on her best friend's face after he was granted the position of Keeper. "What's wrong Hermione?" Harry asked.

"Oh nothing! I'm very excited for you Ron."

Harry seemed pleased. "Come on, let's go down to Hagrid's and see if he's back yet." Step by step the three sixth years stumbled down the lawn, washed over by joy of Ron's achievement. Whatever affects one of the friends made an impact on all of them, and right now, they were glowing. Before they could make it halfway to Hagrid's overflowing pumpkin patch, they were abruptly stopped. Right before them was a clearly distraught professor McGonagall, with lips pressed tightly and as white as ever.

She stood stiffly and sternly, and if one were to look close enough they would notice the slight shake in her posture. The wind seemed to pick up, and crimson leaves blew by them. "What's the matter Professor?" Harry asked, but a quivering was taking over his voice. Evidently, so did McGonagall's.

"All students must report to the Great Hall immediately." Without hesitation, Harry, Ron, and Hermione hustled up to the castle anxiously. Each stole quick glances at the other, then back at the ground, wanting to say something, but the words not quite reaching their mouths.

Once they reached the Great Hall, it was clear in all the commotion that they were not the only ones who didn't know what was going on. Mumbles from all four house tables blended together as students with concerned and curious looks on their faces whispered and shifted. And grumbled. "Who's that up there?" Ron pointed at a man standing at the front of the hall. He had thin hair that was in the process of turning from brown to grey, a long thin nose taking up the majority of his face, and high-set eyebrows that made him look like he was always questioning something. Harry, having read every article in every Daily Prophet over the summer, recognized him immediately.

"That Ron, is Rufus Scrimgeour, the new Minister of Magic."

It was not long before they were all silenced. "Hem hem," Scrimgeour coughed. Harry, Ron, and Hermione couldn't help but recall the memory of a certain rude, toad like professor who always seemed to have a cold. "Good evening students. I am Rufus Scrimgeour, Minister of Magic in The United Kingdom, and I am here to deliver to you a message from the Ministry. The Ministry of Magic has some very rough, upsetting news that unfortunately must be shared with you today." Harry's attention turned to McGonagall, who has a faint twitch in her right eye. He then looked at Dumbledore, fruitlessly trying to gain any hints as to what this was about. Dumbledore's face was settled into a seemingly calm expression, as it was so often. But Harry stared a bit longer, only to observe the pinch in both his eyebrows as well as slightly clenched jaws. It dawned on Harry that Dumbledore looked nervous. Albus Dumbledore was never nervous. Harry turned back to Scrimgeour.

"As you all know, the population of You-Know-Who's followers had grown, along with their cause. These dark wizards call themselves Death Eaters, and have presented themselves as a bigger threat to the safety of the Wizarding World than ever before. We find it best to protect you students, and as You-Know-Who has presented certain interest in Hogwarts and some of its students, we are certain that you are in danger." Harry could feel his heart speed up. "So, the Ministry of Magic…"

"'The Ministry of Magic, the Ministry of Magic, the Ministry of bloody Magic', why can't he just tell us why he's here?" Ron whispered to his friends. It was clear that he was wound up.

"...the witches and wizards of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry will be spending some time outside of the Wizarding world."

There was a full minute of silence before mumbles aroused once again. "He has to be bloomin' joking!" voiced Hannah Abbott from the Hufflepuff table.

"This can't be right," said Seamus Finnigan; wide eyes darting all around the table.

"The Quibbler predicted that something like this would happen. If only any of you read it you would have known!" sounded Luna Lovegood over at the Ravenclaw table.

A very disgruntled Ron tried to clear his head. "But what does that mean? 'Spending some time outside of the Wizarding World?"

Hermione finally found her voice. "Well, logically speaking, it simply means that we will be residing in the Muggle world until it is safe to return to Hogwarts." Both boys stared at her, and two seconds later her hand slapped across her mouth as she processed what she just said.

"I think your facts get ahead of your thoughts sometimes Hermione," spoke Ron with raised eyebrows. Harry opened his mouth, only to be interrupted by the deep, strong voice of Albus Dumbledore.

"Silence!" he boomed, raising his hands. Everyone settled down. Just then, a girl from Gryffindor raised her hand.

The voice of Ginny Weasley said, "Where will we be going?"

The saying goes, "It was so quiet, you could hear a pin drop." But that wasn't quite right. At that moment in the Hogwarts Great Hall, the silence was almost tangible. You could not only hear a pin drop, but every individual heartbeat. Every single student held his or her breath as Dumbledore answered.

"We will be staying," he started, "in District 5."