Because This Must Be

Chapter 1

Early August 1999

The ivory keys were cold against her fingertips, but it was a welcome feeling. Not many people knew Hermione could play the piano. Ron had seen her play before, but that was mere playfulness. She grew up playing, her parents insisted on well-roundedness, and musical endeavors such as these were part of a well-rounded curriculum, after all. Hermione could sight-read fairly well, but her true talent lay with the songs she knew by heart. Classical pieces interested her, her heart soared for arrangements by Debussy, Chopin, and of course, Bach. Recently, however, her attention had turned toward more modern pieces from obscure artists.

Hermione had noticed a piano in the Muggle Studies classroom for a music unit sometime during second year. It was a welcome distraction from the danger that seemed to follow her and the boys around. Though no one would ever guess, Hermione often snuck out in the night to steal a moment to herself, just her and the keys.

Sure, Hermione knew that sneaking around past curfew was sure to land her in detention, but she allowed herself this one escape, this one thing to herself. It wasn't for Harry, it wasn't for Ron, it wasn't for "show" or to be the top of the class as "Miss Know-It-All" as many had teased her. No, this was for her, and she savored that feeling. Hermione figured the Muggle Studies professor, Professor Burbage, knew someone was making late-night rendezvous to play, and that is why the piano was never put away after the music unit was finished. For that, Hermione was grateful.

She was in the middle of her current favorite piece titled "Luna" when she heard the floor outside the room shift. Her fingers froze, the pedal carrying the last played chord until it faded. She was sure she had put a silencing charm around the room so as not to wake the others in the house. Hermione craned her neck toward the door behind her, waiting to hear something more. A few minutes passed before she relaxed and began playing again.

The night was cold, the safe house drafty and damp in some rooms. They had been in this house for three weeks, waiting on further orders. It was uncommon for the safe houses to have things like pianos in them, this is the first one Hermione had seen since leaving Hogwarts. Some houses had things left in them. They'd occasionally find other muggle items like basketball hoops in the yard, or easels for painting. She crossed her fingers they'd be in this house for a while, so she could continue using the piano.

Hermione's mind drifted over memories of the last year and a half as her fingers moved of their own accord. Harry had defeated Voldemort, that Hermione was sure of. It didn't always feel like it, though, as some of his followers took it upon themselves to continue his plan of domination. The war raged on, and Hermione felt things were often worse now than they were before. Hogwarts was still shut down, so naturally, Hermione, Ron, Harry, and others enlisted with the Order to fight.

Ron and Harry were assigned to the same team. They went on missions in places Hermione wasn't allowed to know about. Hermione, on the other hand, had opted out of actual fighting. She was assigned to a team as a mediwitch, which suited her much more. She traveled with her team and was brought on some lower-profile missions in case she was needed. Teams didn't change all that often, but people did float in and out from time to time as the Order saw fit. Of her friends from Hogwarts, Ginny Weasley, Oliver Wood, and Katie Bell had been on her team from the very beginning. Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan, and Lavender Brown transferred in from other teams from time to time. As much as she would hope, she didn't see Harry or Ron.

Hermione's team had two older Aurors that she hadn't known before the war: Nicholas Dox, and Maisy Minx. Minx was a lighthearted leader, the yin to Dox's yang. Dox was sterner, but not cold. They had guests in their houses from time to time as well. Random Order travelers that needed a place to rest for a night or two would often take up residence in the living rooms, sleeping on the lumpy couches.