Nine months

April

The begining of the end

I thought it was some horrible April fools joke when I received a postcard from Harry on the first of April. It was written on the back of a postcard, obviously nicked from his aunt's draw, about a holiday to Devon (probably used to signify Ron was involved as well). He'd hastily scrawled something in Muggle biro:

Dear Hermione,

I'm at a friends house for the holidays- my aunt and uncle took us all to Devon for a week, before Duddley goes back to school. It's actually not bad- though it's rained all week. Hope things are ok with you.

From, Harry.

I knew him better than to trust that.

Flipping the card upside down, I used my wand to check for any signs of invisible ink, and no spells were found. I was confident that this wasn't it- Harry never had a good time with the Dursleys, Devon or not, and besides, he never signed it off with "From Harry", it was way too formal. I thought for a while about what would defeat a Deatheater but not me, and then had an idea.

I picked up the card and sniffed it, then a smiled proudly. With a flick of my wand, the oven was on, and I put the postcard inside, waiting for the "ink" to cook. When I looked at it again, I realised my suspicions were right.

It was lemon juice. An old spy technique- they'd write letters in it and their allies would put it in the oven to cook so that the writing went brown. He'd done the same- most purebloods didn't bother with Muggle history lessons, and had probably skipped that one.

Dear Hermione,

It's happening. I got that pain in my scar again. I know it's Voldemort. You're the first to know. Get you, your parents and Evie out of the country. It's not safe anymore.

Love, Harry x

P.s. Once this is all over, I want to meet Evie properly. I'll be the cool uncle, just like Sirius.

I smiled, despite everything. That's right, Harry, I thought, tears rolling down my cheeks. Positive thoughts.

(~~~)

Of course, it couldn't be all sunshine and rainbows forever. I'd finally got the signal from Harry. It was time to say goodbye to Evie.

I walked into the living room, my heart caught in my throat. Mum was on the computer, Dad was ironing, chatting happily to both his granddaughter and his wife. They looked for the world like a happy family. 

"Dad" I choked, running forwards and hugging him, so he nearly dropped the hot iron on my head. He set it down before hugging me, and Mum rose from her chair and joined. "Mum, I've got a l-letter-"

"Hermione, slow down and tell me what was in it," said Dad calmly, and I looked at Evie longingly. "Has war broken out?"

"I think so. Or it's just about to. Harry gave me a warning, and we won't have much time after that. How quickly can you pack?"

"Ok" started Mum, brushing her hair behind her ears and smoothing her skirt. "We'll take half an hour, maximum. Most of our stuff is in storage anyway."

I nodded, thanking Merlin for their professional organisation skills, and hurried about trying to pack up food with my wand, hardly able to see through the tears. Dad rushed about collecting paperwork and filing it, then stripping the wardrobes and folding items into suitcases. Mum sorted out Evie, putting her stuff into a suitcase, including all her handmade outfits from Luna, her toys from Lavender and Parvati and her tiny Weasley jumper from Mrs Weasley.