Running AIAOY 7

Chapter 1

Rebecca sat in the Burrow's kitchen like she did every morning, with her ear tilted towards the radio Arthur had put together enough to catch the Wizarding News.  

Arthur spent more hours out in his workshop than not lately, and if he wasn't outside then he was still tinkering with a radio in one form or another--The Order had tasked him with making it so that there was a network for communication between the different safe houses and Arthur took his job seriously.

"These are dark times, there is no denying.  Our world has, perhaps, faced no greater threat than it does today.  But I say this to our citizenry--we, ever your servants, will continue to defend your liberty and repel the forces that seek to take it from you.  Your Ministry remains...strong!"  Rufus Scrimgeour, Fudge's replacement as Minister of Magic, spewed his propaganda about the strength of the Ministry and how well they were handling everything despite the growing numbers of Muggle and Muggle-born families alike being murdered every passing week.

Rebecca reached across the counter and slammed the radio into silence, cursing the Ministry, cursing the lies, cursing like a sailor.

"Rebecca!"  Molly scolded, surprised at the vocabulary.  She had only entered the kitchen for paper.  Wedding planning doesn't happen overnight, after all, and it certainly doesn't happen without to-do lists.

"Sorry."  Rebecca muttered.

She couldn't help it, she was going stir crazy.  Hermione wasn't set to join those already at the Burrow for another week and the shop had been forced to shut down before she had even had the chance to see it again.  With the news being the same shite it was every day, Rebecca's mood was stormy; there was a lot to curse.

Molly grabbed the pad of paper she had been searching for and watched as Rebecca retreated up the stairs.  Both women knew exactly where she was going to go: Fred's bed.

Each of the four planning on hunting the horcruxes was making their goodbyes their own way and for Rebecca, that meant she and Fred spending any moment they could with one another.

*******************************************

One week later, Hermione would make her first--but not the last--goodbye.  She stood in her bedroom and looked over the pictures she had hung up, her books on her shelves, the bag she had packed on her bed.  All of it made up her, her belongings.  All of it would have to be left behind.

"Hermione!  Tea's ready, darling!"  Her mother's voice carried through their rowhouse as it had countless times before.  Neither her mum nor her dad knew that this day was any different than the others.

Hermione shouldered her bag and stuck the last of collection of things she wanted to bring with her on top.  Down the stairs, not 'her stairs' for much longer.  Hermione's grip tightened on her wand as she faced the back of her parents.  

"Obliviate."

Just like that, Hermione took the memories of herself from her parents and locked them away.  If she made it out of this alive, if the world could be returned to how it was, then the memories would be returned.  If the world ended or...Hermione refused to put the very real possibility of her own death off the table, her parents would not spend their lives mourning.

"Mercy."  Hermione told herself as she stepped out of her house for the last time.  "This was mercy."

*******************************************

"Hurry up, Dudley!"  Vernon shouted in the house as Dudley puttered around the doorway.  They were racing to fill the car, not willing to spend even one more day in the same house as Harry.  Who knew how much faster they would have been going if Rebecca had returned to Privet Drive with him.