Hermione's nerves were an absolute wreck and it wasn't because Lord Voldemort had returned in the flesh. That certainly added to the unease she was feeling, of course, but she wasn't directly concerned about him at the moment. Right now her nerves were due to the fact that very soon she would be staying with Ron, alone. Well, they wouldn't exactly be alone, not really. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley would be there, and Fred, and George, Percy, Ginny. But Harry wouldn't be there. He was to stay at the Dursleys. Dumbledore had insisted that it was the safest place for him. Hermione didn't understand it, but she knew it wasn't her place to ask. Dumbledore had even written her a letter. As soon as the plan had been set for her to go to Ron's, a tawny owl had appeared at her window with a letter from the Headmaster. It had been rather vague in almost every respect, but very clear on one fact. She and Ron were not to send letters to Harry with any important information. She did not know what kind of information this would be, but Dumbledore assured her that she would understand as soon as she was with Ron. He explained that he couldn't risk information getting into the wrong hands. This at least explained his cryptic letter. Hermione trusted Dumbledore but she knew Harry well and he would not appreciate being left in the dark. Even Hermione couldn't stand it any longer! And this was why she was going to stay with Ron.

She always cherished her summers at home with her parents, but knowing now that the balance in the wizarding world was changing, she longed to know what was going on. When first returning home from Hogwarts in June, she'd decided to try her hand at protective enchantments. She wanted to protect her family. Though she'd tested them herself and they seemed to work, she was afraid that to a witch or wizard with dark intent, they'd seem feeble and crumble easily. So, she'd done the only thing she could think of. She'd written to Ron, saying how worried she was, and he immediately replied, telling her that they were no longer at the Burrow but somewhere else...he couldn't say in a letter. He'd offered her an invitation to come and stay and she found she couldn't resist. She'd also asked Ron's dad if he could come and help secure the enchantments she'd made around her family's home. Arthur, being more than willing to help muggles, agreed to come and test the enchantments, and then he and Hermione would travel by floo powder back to wherever it was the Weasleys were staying. After Dumbledore's letter had arrived, another from Ron had come asking "Did you get one too?" She knew he meant Professor Dumbledore's letter. He'd taken great pains to make sure no valuable information made it to the Death Eaters.

Hermione sat on her bed reading, unable to focus. Arthur Weasley would arrive any minute, and Hermione found she was almost as nervous to see him she was Ron. The fact that she was nervous to see one of her best friends was a source of frustration for Hermione. Yes, it was clear to her that she was falling for Ron and would love to pursue a romantic relationship with him. Yes, these thoughts occupied her mind at a growing rate and caused her to feel odd when she was around him. But he was still Ron! They knew each other very well and had done nearly everything together for ages! And now, here she was, nervous to see Arthur simply because he reminded her of his youngest son so often. She rolled her eyes at herself as she searched her room once more for things she may have forgotten to pack. She'd be staying until the start of term at Hogwarts, but she didn't need to bring her school trunk just yet. That would be sent magically as well at a later date. Suddenly, Hermione was overly curious about where she was going. She was happy to be anywhere with Ron, but she also craved information. You'll get it soon enough, she told herself. She paced up and down the length of her bed without realizing it. A pang of guilt came over her for leaving her parents so mysteriously. She couldn't help feeling this was becoming the norm for her. They always kissed her and told her they understood, but things were happening in her world they couldn't possibly understand. She did not want to tell them about Voldemort. She'd mentioned him before, but then he'd been dead, or so she'd thought...along with everyone else. Except for Dumbledore. Dumbledore knew something that nobody else did. How much had he shared with the Order of the Phoenix? They were a society founded by Dumbledore himself, surely they would be privy to this information. Surely they needed to know what what was happening with Voldemort in order to stop him. Surely they would stop him! Worry for Harry swept over her as she imagined him trying to take on Voldemort by himself. It wouldn't be the first time, but Hermione worried it would be the last. He was stronger than ever and his most Death Eaters had returned to him. But many of them are in Azkaban, she thought with some relief.

"Hermione," her mother called from downstairs. She jumped, startled. "Ron's dad is here!"

Hermione sighed heavily, collecting herself. She pulled open her bedroom door and came downstairs. When she saw Arthur standing in her living room wearing a poor attempt at a muggle outfit, she giggled. She felt very stupid indeed for being nervous to see this man. He was such a wonderfully warm and delightful person. When she saw the grin on his face (a grin that was so like Ron's), she couldn't help but feel bathed in that warmth. Arthur was no one to be nervous around, nor was Ron! It was especially silly to worry about a boy when the Dark Lord was out there gathering support and plotting the death of one of your best friends. Hermione mentally kicked herself. Ron would need her to be her logical, intelligent self, not some bumbling teenage idiot. She'd felt this last year, about the Yule Ball. She still couldn't believe that a dance had caused her so much turmoil when she was meant to be above childish and petty emotions. Nobody is above those, she reminded herself sternly. Still, when these feelings took over, she felt less like herself and more like Lavender Brown, a classmate who frequently worried about boys, clothes, boys, shoes, boys, hair, and boys.

"Good to see you, Hermione," Arthur said kindly, giving her a squeeze.

"Hello, Mr. Weasley. It's wonderful to see you as well."

"Shall I give you the tour? Starting with the garden?" she asked.

"Let's have a look, shall we..." He trailed off, not mentioning that what they were about to do. Hermione had left that part out. The Grangers had absolutely no idea what the young witch and older wizard were up to- protective enchantments. Hermione led the way through the kitchen to the back door. Standing in the back yard, Mr. Weasley put out his hands, doing a silent spell Hermione recognized from her Defense books. Hermione's stomach bunched, looking up at the house as though she'd be able to see what he was doing. But these enchantments were invisible and whatever he was doing, she couldn't be seen. She felt it though.

"It was good of you to think of this, Hermione. Ron is right, you are brilliant," he said, causing Hermione to blush. "These enchantments should hold." He put his wand back in his pocket and gave her a grave look. "I wish they weren't necessary, but it's better to be safe."

Hermione didn't know what to say, so she simply nodded. What could she say? She wasn't naive. She knew how Voldemort felt about muggle-borns and muggles. She couldn't stand the thought of leaving them unprotected in these troubled times.

"Thank you, Mr. Weasley," said Hermione, leading him back into the house. "Shall we have tea before we leave? I'm all packed."

"Yes, that would be lovely."

Thankfully, Hermione's mother did not asked questions. She prepared tea for them, served them sandwiches and patiently answered Arthur's questions about how the toaster worked. After tea, Hermione gathered her bag of the belongings she'd be taking and said her goodbyes to her mother and father.

"I love you. I'll write."

"We know you will, sweetheart. We love you too. Be good."

"Pleasure as always, Mr. Weasley."

Hermione and Mr. Weasley stepped into the fireplace, and he gathered the floo powder in his fist. He handed some to her, then threw his fistful down saying the name of a shop in London that Hermione hadn't heard of, and he disappeared. Hermione waved goodbye to her parents once more, who smiled at her fondly, as she threw down her fistful of powder, echoing the name of the shop. She traveled so quickly that she didn't even have a chance to wonder exactly where they were going.

"This way..." said Mr. Weasley as she emerged next to him. He looked around anxiously and nodded down a busy muggle street. Hermione followed close behind down several streets, turning right, then left, then left again.

"Here," he said stopping in front of a row of houses. At the foot of some steps that led to one of the homes stood an old man stooped and covered in a silver-grey cloak.

"Evening Dumbledore," said and upon closer inspection, Hermione saw that it was in fact Dumbledore himself.

"Ah, Ms. Granger. They've been expecting you," he said with a smile.

"Where are we?"

"You'll have to wait until we're safe in side, Hermione," said Mr. Weasley, leaning down to whisper in her ear. Dumbledore led them up the steps and to Hermione's surprised a new door emerged between the house she thought they were going into and the one next to it. Dumbledore knocked three times and then the door opened. Hermione found it extremely odd that Dumbledore would have to knock anywhere.

"Welcome to Number 12 Grimmauld Place. My humble home serves as headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix." A dark, scruffy man in black appeared in the hallway.

"Sirius!" Hermione exclaimed. The Order of the Phoenix, of course! She'd read about it years ago. A secret society founded by Dumbledore to help fight You-Know-Who. So that was what all the secrecy was about. Now, everything was starting to make sense. With You-Know-Who back, he'd started it up again. She was fascinated to learn more about it.

"Welcome," said Sirius Black coming forward to embrace Hermione. She knew that he was Harry's godfather, and that he hadn't murdered anyone, that Peter Pettigrew had been the real traitor. She knew he'd sent Harry a new broomstick and given him sound advice during the Tri-Wizard Tournament, but still Hermione couldn't help but be intimidated by him. She did not know exactly what he'd been subjected to in Azkaban and she didn't want to know. There was a hardness to him, most likely a product of years spent in the company of Dementors.

"Hermione," Mrs. Weasley said embracing her as well. "Good to see you, dear."

"You too."

"Ron's in the kitchen, Ginny too. I know they're both anxious to see you," Mrs. Weasley said showing her the way.

"Filthy Mudbloods! Blood-Traitors, oh, what a stain has blotted this home..." a voice from someone unseen shrieked.

"Shut up, mother!" Sirius yelled.

"Who was that?" asked Hermione, looking around for the speaker.

"Just my dear old mum. She's dead, but her portrait continues her legacy of hatred and obsession with blood-status. Please don't take offense to anything she says, Hermione. I've never believed blood-status was important. Even the very term disgusts me."

Hermione thought of the time Ron had vomited slugs as the result of a backfiring curse when Malfoy had called her a 'mudblood.' Other people seemed more offended by the word than she was. She didn't enjoy hearing it, but she knew she was a witch through and through. She usually didn't pay heed to what others' thought of her.

"Oh," was all she could think of to say.

"This has been the Black family home for centuries. Now it's just me here...and Kreacher."

"Kreacher?"

"My house elf. Vile thing. I had hoped Harry would be allowed to stay with me here after my name was cleared, but Dumbledore..."

"Sirius!" Mrs. Weasley cut him off. "We mustn't discuss all that, now."

Hermione knew that Harry would much rather live with Sirius than the Dursleys, but looking around at the state of the house, she decided she just couldn't picture Harry there. Sirius and Molly Weasley were in the middle of a lively discussion, Hermione continuing onto the kitchen. Before she could even register anything, a flash of red hair came rushing at her and Ginny Weasley was hugging her.

"You're here!" she said, looking to Ron, who stood sheepishly by the long kitchen table.

"Hi," he said happily. Hermione thought his face looked pinker than usual and she felt her own face heat up. Damn, there was that strange feeling in her stomach again.

"We were just finishing tea. You hungry?" asked Ginny.

"No, thank you, we I just had some at home with your dad."

"Oh. Well, you'll be staying with me, as usual. Let me show you. This place is no Burrow, but what can you do?"

"Don't keep her too long, Ginny. She's my best friend!" Ron exclaimed.

"Mine too," said Ginny, rolling her eyes at her brother, then giving Hermione a meaningful look. "It's going to happen this year, I can feel it," she whispered so just Hermione could here.

"What are you..."

"With my brother! He was so relieved you decided to come here because it meant you didn't go to Bulgaria. You aren't still seeing Viktor, are you?"

Hermione glanced back to make sure Ron hadn't heard. Ginny had been speaking softly, but paranoia threatened her.

"Ginny, you know we weren't really dating. I am in touch with him, yes. We've written several times. That's it and all it ever will be."

"Well, here's our room," said Ginny revealing a tiny room with gray walls. The paint was peeling and the curtains looked as though they had collected a thousand years of dust.

"What's that smell?" asked Hermione dropping her bag by the large bed.

"Who knows?" asked Ginny. "Mum's threatened to have Ron and me cleaning the place. Now that you're here, I'm sure she'll make good on the threat. You can have the bed if you want. I'm frightened to discover what may be lurking under there."

"Thanks, Ginny," said Hermione sarcastically, lifting the dust-ruffle cautiously. The bedspread looked ancient, and Hermione couldn't help but notice the pillowcases showcased the Slytherin crest. This was the headquarters for Dumbledore's secret society? It looked more like Tom Riddle's dorm room to Hermione. But she supposed Sirius had been anxious to help in any way he could, and offering his home was about all he could offer at the moment. She felt bad for him, lurking in this foul place, day after day. It was an improvement over Azkaban, but not by much.

"Filthy, dirty, treacherous..." Mrs. Black's voice rang out once more.

"Shut up, mum!" boomed Sirius.

"That will take some getting used to," said Ginny. "Well, you'd better not keep Ronniekins waiting."

"Ginny!"

"Go on. I know you're happy to see each other." Ginny teased, picking up a Quibbler magazine from the bedside table. Not a very respectable publication, in Hermione's opinion, but Ginny seemed entertained by it. "Watch out for cobwebs. If a spider gets on you, your chance to spend time with Ron will disappear because that's exactly what he'll do."

"Thanks for your support."

Hermione exited the dank bedroom, for the depressing hallway. This was certainly going to be an interesting summer, she thought.