I'm so sorry! Summer is supposed to be relaxing but, instead, I've been even busier! School, soccer, traveling, school, blah blah blah.

Author Note: I own nothing :/ Nothing at all.

A blonde slipped down the streets of Diagon Alley, eyes turned as people stepped away. Hands covered mouths and bodies shook. Happy cries turned to worried whispers as power washed over the magical community in waves.

The blonde didn't acknowledge a soul, she simply kept her head high and her eyes forward. Her eyes spotted her destination and her red lips turned upwards slightly as her dark cloak snapped behind her as she turned swiftly on her raised heel. Her hands pushed on a door of the empty shop and her fingers snapped the magical lock. The bell's dull ring echoed around the endless shelves as footsteps shuffled slowly.

"I'm not expecti-" Garrick Ollivander stopped, his pale silver eyes filled with displeasure.

"Oh." He sounded annoyance as he glared at the curved figure. "What are you doing here, Miss Adele?"

The woman smiled, her white teeth sparkling in the dark light.

"I just have one question, Garrick."

"I told you," the old man snapped, his eyes narrowing. "I owe you nothing."

"And as I have told you," Adele hissed. "It isn't wise to mess with the Night's children."

The man paled as the woman flashed her sharpened fangs.

"Now then," the woman walked around her eyes narrowing at the hundreds of boxes she would never be allowed to touched. She could never hold a wooden rod in her palm and utter incantations to make her darkened life easier. Her eyes darkened. "Garrick I only need you to do me one thing."

"I refuse," the man stated, crossing his arms.

Adele smiled turning back and propping her elbows on the counter. Her gray eyes seemed to swirl as she leaned in close. Garrick felt himself slip and his mind fog as the gray eyes seemed to consume him.

"What can you tell me about Mr. Tom Riddle?"

"Harry, tea?" Sangue offered a black cup to her guest, her eyebrow raised.

"No thanks," Harry shook his head. "Not at the moment."

Sangue shrugged, dark curls tumbling down her back. "Suit yourself," she poured herself a cup before raising it to her stained lips. She sighed, sipping the liquid and wondering where she should begin.

There is so much and so little of it is mine.

She shook her head.

"Harry," her eyes spotted the boy. "Tell me what you know about Hermione Black?"

"Er..." the woman bit her lip, unsure. "I...what?"

The woman sighed, setting down the fragile cup. "Harry, where do you think Hermione went?"

Harry's brow furled. "I have no clue."

"Do you have any idea what attacked her?"

"No, I don't."

"Harry," the woman leaned forward. "You know what she is, what she is trained to be. We both know that the truth is rather obvious. Especially since that girl refuses to lay low."

"I'm not-"

"Think," Sangue snapped. "Think about it Harry."

The woman stood up, her body moving around the desk towards one of the towering shelves. Harry stared, searching his thoughts for anything.

No, she can't... It's impossible.

"Ehhem," Sangue coughed, her lips forming a sad smile as she saw the boy jump. His emerald eyes darted down to the volume in her hands. His eyes widened at the familiar symbol of the clashing swords and dominate 'A'. His hands shook as he took the book into his hands and flipped through the worn pages.

Languages of all kinds filled the pages along with strange and twisted images depicting death and decay. But, near the beginning he caught a snippet of English:

They are meant to live in the shadows, the keep their people safe. The Covenant trains slayers, hunters, reapers-Assassins.

There was a lone bed and shelves of books that lines the walls. There was a desk, lit by the dim blue glow of magic held the letter in her hand, unsure how to react. Her father's scrawl was hurried as he informed of information she did not know how to process. It was short, the message was tiny compared to the novels her parents would send. This...Oh this.

Hermione

Remus, your mother, and I went to school with Lily Evans and James Potter...The deceased parents of Harry James Potter. A boy your mother and I did not know he was even alive till he was eleven when your grandmother told us. But it was too late. He was stolen away from us, Remus even had to sneak into the once-welcoming halls of Hogtwarts to see if the boy for himself. We couldn't...We tried but there is nothing we can do if Dumbledore is there.

There are so many things we need to tell you, so many things I haven't said aloud for years. Things we cannot tell you in letters or through the Network. The walls of our own home are questionable. But know this.

Harry is our godson and you both are in far more danger than we could ever predict.

-Dad

I'm sorry it's so short! I have to recheck my timeline but I knew I needed to get something out. So, my goal is to have something in by next Tuesday, if possible. I apologize to my readers and those who stumbled upon this. Thank you so much for following and reading-it means so much.

-M2H