Anne pressed her lips together and sighed. She reached up, took off her own glasses, and gently placed them on Hermione's face.
Brown eyes turned to black.
Hermione blinked in surprise.
"There," Anne said softly, her voice calm even though she wasn't smiling. "Now can I go grab my spare pair?"
"You should keep icing your eyes first," Hermione said, taking the cold towel from her hands.
Anne closed her eyes.
Cold. Soft.
Hermione mimicked the same careful rhythm Anne had used on her, applying the ice a few times until she was satisfied.
"All done," she said finally.
Anne opened her eyes. Hermione was smiling at her, warm, gentle, radiant.
Their gazes locked.
Before Anne could stop herself, she leaned forward and kissed her.
It wasn't a long kiss, nor a deep one, both of them were tender, almost cautious. Yet for some reason, Anne felt as if she had just stepped out of an air-conditioned room into the heat of summer, slightly flushed, opened the fridge, and found her favorite vanilla ice cream waiting for her.
Soft, cool, sweet, the creamy taste seemed to melt through her chest.
Their foreheads rested together, eyes hazy and dazed.
"I think I'm beyond saving," Anne murmured.
"If that's the case," Hermione whispered back, meeting her gaze, "then, Anne, I'll stay with you."
Anne pressed her lips together again but didn't speak.
Knock, knock, knock.
"Go open it," Anne said quietly. "I'll get my glasses."
Hermione waited until Anne had put them on before opening the door, and was startled to find Ron standing there. His arm was still bandaged, but his color looked much better.
"What's wrong?" Hermione asked. "Ron, is your wound bothering you?"
"No, no, it's healing fine." He hesitated. The sight of Hermione wearing Anne's glasses made him pause for a beat. His first thought was, What are they up to now?
"I just came to ask if breakfast's ready. Oh, and Harry wanted me to check, are we destroying the Horcrux this morning?"
Anne slung her pack over her shoulder and fastened her cloak.
"You can destroy it whenever you like. I've already told Harry how."
"Actually," Ron said, "Harry thought maybe you should be the one to destroy it. And honestly, I think that's a brilliant idea."
"I agree," Hermione added quickly.
Anne stepped into the hallway, looking at them both. "No need. It's better if the three of you handle it, seems more fitting for Gryffindors to do the honors."
She paused, then added, "And before you ask, it's got nothing to do with last night. Just consider it Dumbledore's instruction."
"Anne—" Hermione started forward.
Anne didn't move. "I mean it. Besides…" She gave a small shake of her head. "I might not even be able to. The Sword of Gryffindor's goblin-made, remember? I've only handled the case it was stored in, never the sword itself. I don't know if I can wield it, best not to complicate things."
Hermione frowned, the kind of frown she wore when her brain was flipping through mental library shelves looking for a counterargument.
"It's alright, Hermione." Anne smiled faintly. "There's nothing to argue about. Now, I'm starving. Breakfast?"
"But Anne," Ron protested, "we only found this Horcrux so quickly because of you. You deserve—"
"It's enough that you know that," Anne said lightly. She glanced at her watch. "Come on, let's eat. I still need to brief you on a few things."
"I set breakfast in the dining tent," Hermione said.
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In the dining tent, Hermione placed the Deluminator on the table, switched on the lamps, and called Harry in.
Four plates were set out, but Anne's had nearly twice as much food as Harry's or Ron's, half a small watermelon, a bowl of fruit salad, and a sandwich stuffed with egg, lettuce, bacon, and luncheon meat. Even her mashed potatoes came in a bigger bowl.
On top of her sandwich bread, Hermione had drawn a smiley face with ketchup.
Anne blinked, amused, that was her trick, from back at Roland Manor, when she used to make Hermione laugh.
Honestly…
She couldn't help but smile. After a second, she rubbed her nose, pulled out a chair, and sat down under Hermione's watchful gaze.
"Did you test the Deluminator's range?" she asked.
"Roughly a hundred and fifty meters radius," Hermione said. "That gives us about one to three minutes' warning if anyone approaches."
Anne nodded. "Good. What about the false IDs and Polyjuice? You've all been keeping them on you, checking daily?"
All three nodded.
She took a spoonful of mashed potatoes, perfectly balanced with salt, butter, and pepper, then looked up. Hermione was still watching her.
"It's really good," Anne said.
Hermione grinned in delight.
Harry and Ron exchanged a look and ducked their heads quickly, hiding their laughter. It wasn't often they saw Hermione act like this.
Anne took another bite of watermelon before continuing.
"There are two things I need to remind you of. First, from now on, we're basically on the run. Never stay in one place longer than seventy-two hours. Avoid cities if you can. Tonight, I'll bring you a map."
Another spoonful of potatoes.
"Stick to the red-marked safe zones we've already cleared. Second, you can start preparing for Godric's Hollow."
The three exchanged glances.
"Oh, and one more thing." Anne reached into the side pocket of her pack and took out a palm-sized wooden radio, setting it on the table. She tapped it with her wand, cycling through static-filled frequencies.
"Besides the Daily Prophet and Wizarding Weekly I'll bring you, you can use this to keep up with news from the wizarding world," she said.
She smiled, a flash of her small sharp teeth showing. "Fred and George have shut down Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes for safety. Instead, they're starting a secret broadcast, The Voice of the Order. I approved it myself. Their first show this morning. The password today is 'Order of the Phoenix.'"
The moment she said the words, the radio crackled and jumped to a new channel, hissing softly.
"Not till eight," Anne said, glancing at her watch. "Morning broadcast runs twenty minutes, and another thirty in the evening at ten."
"What will they be talking about?" Harry asked.
"A bit of everything," Anne replied. "Mostly intel the Order can't use but that might help hidden Muggle-borns or fugitive wizards, like where to find food without getting caught."
"There are places like that?" Ron asked eagerly. "Where?"
Anne bit into her sandwich, swallowed, and said slowly, "Behind hotels and supermarkets in Muggle cities. You going?"
Ron froze, spoon halfway to his mouth. "Anne… you're joking, right?"
"Muggles have been surviving that way for years, Ron," she said evenly. "Do you think runaway wizards are better than beggars? What's more important, pride or staying alive? Mundungus Fletcher's lasted this long because he's not above sleeping under bridges with them. You know how many Muggle murders end with bodies dumped under those bridges?"
Ron stared, pale, half his mashed potatoes sliding off his spoon.
Then Anne looked down, softened her tone, and said lightly, "Relax, I was teasing. The Order's hidden small caches of Muggle money, pounds, in crowded spots like train stations and bus depots. Not much, but enough for a fugitive wizard to eat properly for a couple of weeks if they're careful. The Death Eaters won't bother checking; they'd never stoop that low. With those funds, no one has to show blood status papers just to buy food."
"Oh," Ron muttered, putting the spoonful in his mouth. "That's… good."
The radio suddenly crackled. "Hello, testing, testing, can anyone hear me?"
George's voice. A pause, then: "Little A, you there?"
"Don't call me Little A! I can hear you—" Fred's voice answered from farther away.
"Yes! Brilliant! Good morning, listeners! This is our test broadcast, brought to you live from a very secret location by yours truly, Little A and Little B—"
Anne checked her watch, 7:47. Honestly. These two. Starting early, of course.
"Lovely weather in London today, eh, Little A? I stepped outside this morning and it immediately started raining—"
"I told you not to call me that! Good morning, everyone! You're listening to the future legend of magical broadcasting, the one and only London Gentleman, Little Leo!"
Harry and Ron burst out laughing. Anne chuckled too, glancing sideways. Hermione was smiling at her again.
"You? A gentleman?" George's laughter boomed through the static.
"Ignore the silly one, folks! I assure you, we're not related—"
"I'm done," Anne said at last, setting down her spoon. She checked her watch and pushed back her chair. "You three finish up. I need to head out. I'll be back around ten tonight, no need to save dinner."
Hermione glanced at Anne's almost-empty plate, then stood as well, following her out of the dining tent.
As soon as they were gone, Ron leaned closer to Harry. "What's up with those two?"
"They fought last night," Harry said, turning the radio up a little.
"Again?" Ron whispered. "Merlin, girls are impossible. What were they even fighting about?"
Harry shrugged. "No idea. And I think we'd better not ask."
"Agreed." Ron nodded, returning to his plate.
Outside, Hermione caught up after only a few steps and wrapped her arms around Anne.
Anne stopped, turned, and drew her into a gentle embrace.
"What's wrong?" she asked softly.
"Anne… will you come back for dinner tonight?"
Anne hesitated, then smiled. "Alright. I'll come back for dinner."
She tilted her head teasingly. "What's this, Hermione, missing me before I've even left?"
"Yes," Hermione said simply.