Hermione sighed as she shifted into the long black robe that she grabbed from the table, the others following suit. Blaise had provided the Order with Death Eater robes and masks, allowing them to slip in and out of Hogwarts that night without a hitch. Hopefully. But Hermione was concerned.

Harry had insisted the team for the mission would be small, yet ordered Octavia to join them. Hermione just couldn't understand it. Why would he endanger his girlfriend in such a way? Yes, O had the choker to shield her from magic, but its protection weakened after some time. Not only that, she was a muggle. Of course O was armed, knives and guns strapped to her thighs with holsters, but Hermione just didn't think her sister was capable of killing. So, really, they served no purpose. Not when it came down to it.

Hermione had persisted in her pleas for Octavia to remain behind, but Harry quickly dismissed this. Octavia too.

For O reasoned that her choker not only helped her, but Hermione as well. They would be paired together in the mission, retrieving the potion's book – The Half Blood Prince's copy – from the Room of Requirements to aid them in their medical potions. Octavia justified her participation in the mission by pointing out that if she were to jump in front of a killing curse for Hermione, they would both survive. Logic that couldn't be argued with.

But Hermione didn't have to be pleased about it. In fact, she was fucking livid. But it didn't matter now. She had to focus. For the mission. For herself.

For her sister.

Octavia's body was wracked with nerves as she clasped her sister's hand, prepared for the horrid sensation of apparating. As well as the mission they were about to begin, dread pooling in her stomach.

Shuffling her feet nervously, Octavia chewed her bottom lip as she waited for the others to prepare for departure. She had been a shivering mess all day, hiding her anxiety from a stressed out Harry. Not that he'd notice her distress anyway. He was far too concerned with the mission to pay her much mind. Something she really couldn't blame him for. Something she understood.

But a part of her, a selfish part she wished she didn't have, begrudged him for his distance.

Octavia blamed the pressures of the war for the cracks in their relationship. But deep down she knew. It just wasn't right. She didn't know if it had ever been right, though. She had begun to suspect that Harry's primary interest in her had been her apparent sweetness and pretty face. But as time went on, he found her flaws to be rather repellant. Something that Octavia was used to. For men always became infatuated with her, thinking her sweet and innocent. Only to get to know her and find themselves put off by her flaws. Her selfishness, her superficiality, her bitchiness and above all, her stupidity. Flaws she couldn't help. It was just a part of who she was.

Octavia wished she could be more like her sister. Brave, intelligent, kind and modest. But she wasn't. She wasn't any of those things. Her bravery was merely foolishness. And her kindness only extended to those that were kind to her.

Perhaps that is why Harry had paired himself with Ginny Weasley for the mission. That the Black Widow possessed the traits that Octavia lacked. Or perhaps it was the girl's skills that had Harry team with her. Octavia didn't know.

But she didn't like it.

Not one bit.

Hermione gripped her sister's hand tightly, her lips thinning as she felt O's hand tremble slightly in hers. Feeling the fear and anxiety radiating from O. Furrowing her brows in concern, Hermione glanced at her sister.

Noticing that O was chewing her bottom lip relentlessly, her boot-clad feet shuffling nervously. Hermione almost smiled. Even when they were about to venture into a dangerous mission, Octavia looked simply gorgeous. Her curls tied into a messy bun atop her head, loose tendrils framing her pretty face. Skinny black jeans clinging to her legs, a black crop top to match, showing a bit of her flat tummy. Black combat boots laced up loosely. A muggle fashion thing, Hermione assumed with a smile. Only Octavia would adhere to fashion in times like this.

But perhaps her sister found a sense of comfort in the familiar practices of style? Perhaps it provided her with a sense of normality in these dark times? So Hermione did not judge O for her carefully selected attire. How could she? When they all coped in their own ways.

Of course, Octavia's fashionable attire was shielded as she wore a long black cloak. The Death Eater's robes. Something Hermione could tell that O was not pleased about due her constant frowns and pouts.

Her own fear matched her sister's, however. Although Hermione wasn't trembling, fear and anxiety was burning through her without mercy. Fear for herself, her friends and her sister. If things were to go wrong, she just hoped they were not separated from one another.

Although there were several hidden portkeys that would be set up on the outskirts of the castle. A couple in Hogsmeade, some in the Forbidden Forrest. Protected by secret supporters of the Order, such as Centaurs and Madame Rosmerta. All portkeys led to different areas around Britain, ensuring that if one of them was found, the Death Eaters would not be lead back to Grimmauld Place. It calmed Hermione, somewhat, knowing that each portkey activated at different times also. So if any of them encountered delays, it was likely that they could still escape the castle.

Hopefully, that would not happen though. Blaise Zabini was on duty at Hogwarts, residing in the main office. Merely supervising the lower ranking Death Eaters that roamed the castle. With Blaise on duty, Hermione had a little faith. Not much. But a little. Knowing that tonight was a true test of the man's loyalties.

The Death Eater that made her heart flutter.

Octavia kept her head bowed as she walked casually through the corridors of Hogwarts, finding the castle rather enchanting. Portraits lined the stone walls, the people inside chatting and bickering with one another. Several ghosts floating through the halls. Not one person (or ghost … or portrait) paying Octavia and Ninny any attention.

For the two Granger sisters wandered the corridors of the castle, making their way to the Room of Requirements leisurely. Their cloaks and hoods shielding them from danger. Masking them. Blending in with the Death Eaters. Only silent nods exchanged as they passed the cloaked members of Voldemort's army.

Octavia took a sense of comfort in knowing that Harry was wandering the halls, entirely shielded. Not blending in, like Ninny and her. But hidden under the invisibility cloak as he journeyed to the Chamber of Secrets to retrieve the Basilisk fangs. Although, she was almost drowning in dread. For it was too easy.

Yes, they had Blaise Zabini on duty. Their spy. Assisting the Order by allowing them to breeze in and out of the occupied castle. But still … it really couldn't be this easy, could it? None of their missions of this scale had gone so smoothly. It wasn't over yet, but if they remained undetected, they would be home in a mere thirty minutes or so.

It was too good to be true.

Blaise reclined in the grand leather chair, eyeing the parchment on the desk. Fully aware that at that very moment, the map on the wall behind him showed several members of the Order roaming the castle. He ran his fingers through his black hair as he forced his thoughts away from the mudblood that had joined the mission of the Order. He was not surprised that Hermione Granger participated in the mission. But he did not like it. For if, on the off chance, they were discovered, she would be killed on sight. Not captured, not interrogated. Killed.

For the Death Eater ranks were ordered to do so with the mudblood. She was far too resilient to crack under torture. Her legitimacy skills were, of course, superior. They would achieve nothing by attempting to interrogate the mudblood. So she had a death warrant in their ranks. Much like her red-headed lover. Only Potter was to be captured, all others disposed of swiftly.

And it concerned the Italian Death Eater. He did not wish for the mudblood to die. He did not wish for her to endanger herself. But what could be done about it? Nothing. So he turned spy for the Order, doing everything in his power to protect the Granger girl he was so fond of. The mudblood that captured his attention from the very moment he laid eyes on her.

Blaise Zabini glowered at the passing third years on the Hogwarts Express, causing the frightened boys to jump out of his way instantly. While Blaise was only eleven years old, journeying to his first year at Hogwarts, he possessed a cold and dangerous demeanour. With everyone but his best friend, of course. Draco Malfoy. Equally as cold, doubly as dangerous. Perhaps it was due to their upbringing that the boys were cruel. A product of their environment. Whatever. Blaise cared naught for his cruel nature. He rather enjoyed striking fear into others, especially those that surpassed him in age.

He strolled through the train, making his way to the end compartment where he would find his blonde-haired comrade. His brother of sorts.

Blaise grunted as something collided with his back, causing his face to light up with fury as he spun around. Mousy brown hair blurred his vision briefly, before a young girl sprawled to the ground, evidently from colliding with his back. Apparently she had been holding books before crashing into him, as several scattered the quiet train corridor.

Blaise frowned as he looked down at the girl, blinking as she muttered an apology, setting to immediately gather her books. As though the ground would ruin her beloved literature. Odd.

What really struck Blaise as odd, however, was that he knelt down before the girl and aided her. He helped collect the books from the ground before offering them to her. She smiled at him in gratitude, blushing slightly as he grabbed her arm and hauled her to her feet. Indelicately, of course. But something he would never do. Certainly out of character for him.

He regarded her interestedly for a moment, a twinge of nostalgia sparkling inside of him. She appeared uncomfortable. Perhaps he had been staring at her for some time now. He didn't know. All he knew was that he wanted to help the girl. Odd. He knew that she sparked something inside of him that was alien to him. Odd. And he knew that she was strangely familiar to him. Even odder.

For he had not seen this bushy haired girl before. Definitely not.

Yet he felt like he had. He resisted the urge to smile at her.

Very strange indeed.

He hummed as he tore his eyes away from her wide brown orbs, turning and continuing on his path to the compartment.

Utterly perplexed by what had just occurred.

Blaise quirked his eyebrow as Draco Malfoy strolled into the office, Blaise forcing himself to remain composed. A difficult task when Granger roamed the halls of the castle at that very moment. If Draco discovered the invasion in the castle, he would be all too happy to dispose of the Order. Likely defying the Dark Lord's commands of immediate death for all but Potter. No. Draco would capture them, torturing them slowly to death. Enjoying their pleas. Enjoying their screams. Something that Blaise could not allow. Not with Granger, anyway. The others … well, he did not care what happened to them. Only her.

"Miss me?" Blaise smirked as Draco waltzed to the bar in the office. "I'm flattered."

Draco remained stoic as he poured fire whiskey into two crystal tumblers, before sauntering over to Blaise's desk, offering his tanned comrade a glass.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" Blaise asked, taking the glass from Draco's extended hand. Concern racing through his veins at his pale friend's presence. Draco was supposed to be leading a raid out of the country that night, yet here he was. Endangering everything. Endangering Granger.

"The raid in Moscow has been postponed." Draco drawled, seating himself in a plush armchair.

"Ah," Blaise nodded, his blood running cold but remaining perfectly composed. "Why is that?"

"Negotiations." Draco clipped, swirling his glass. His cold grey eyes scanning the room leisurely.

Draco's jaw clenched as his cold eyes fixed on a perfectly composed Blaise. Draco rose from his chair slowly, placing the tumbler on the desk between him, his cold grey eyes never breaking contact with Blaise's dark orbs.

Blaise tensed as Draco walked around the table slowly, his silver eyes flickering to the Marauder's Map. Blaise standing to move beside his pale comrade, his heart pounding in his chest as Draco's long index finger pointed to a name on the map. Harry Potter. Closely followed by Ginny Weasley.

Blaise's eyes swiftly scanned the map, relief battling the fear inside of him as the Grangers' names were nowhere to be seen. Their names not showing on the map for they must currently be in the Room of Requirements. Excellent.

Oh. Fuck.

Draco hummed as tapped the parchment on the wall, his finger drumming against two names that appeared on the seventh floor. Hermione Granger. Octavia Granger.

"Your mudblood is here," Draco drawled, his eyes fixed on the map.

Blaise tensed, his fists clenched by his sides. Of course Draco knew of Blaise's attraction to the mudblood, for he had watched Blaise stare at Hermione Granger throughout their years at Hogwarts. But Draco was not aware of the extent of his feelings. That he had turned spy for the Order, just to protect Granger.

No. Draco did not know that. And now, Blaise had no idea what to do.

"Who is that?" Draco asked, tapping his finger to the name that paralleled Hermione's.

"Granger's sister." Blaise clipped. "Her twin."

Draco hummed, nodding once.

"Lucky you." Draco clipped, disgust evident in his tone.

"Non-identical." Blaise retorted, his eyes fixed on the map, his mind racing. "Polar opposites in everything."

"I would wager a bet," Draco drawled, pulling out his wand slowly, "that they scream the exact same way."

Blaise smirked, masking his gut-wrenching fear for the Grangers. Draco thoroughly enjoyed torture, and it appeared that he had his sights set on the Granger twins. Well … Blaise knew that Draco would offer Hermione to him. Not touching a hair on her head, purely out of respect. But he would not extend his mercy to Octavia Granger.

No.

The muggle was free game.

Octavia felt herself relax as she and Ninny exited the Room of Requirements, the potions book tucked in Hermione's cloak pocket. They didn't speak as they strolled through the corridors side by side. The coin in her pocket had not heated up at any point during their mission thus far. A good sign. The coins, created years ago by her sister, allowed the members of the Order to communicate with one another. If one found themselves in danger, or they were compromised, everyone's coin would warm and alert the others of danger. Thankfully, that had not happened. Yet.

Two tall figures turned into the corridor in the distance, Octavia only able to see the outline of their bodies. Men. Tall and built. No Death Eater robes. Black slacks and black shirts. No masks, no robes.

Hmm. Odd.

And then she felt it. The coin in her pocket warming up, alerting her of danger.

"Fuck," Octavia whispered, continuing to walk slowly by her sister. "What do we do?"

"I don't know," Hermione whispered, slipping her wand out of her sleeve stealthily.

The men walking toward them from the other side of the corridor may not know that the Granger twins hid under the Death Eater robes. They may only be aware of another in the castle. Perhaps someone had been captured? Hermione did not know.

Octavia's eyes narrowed as she struggled to focus her vision on the two approaching men. Assessing their demeanours. And then fear struck through her body violently, almost crippling her.

"They know," Octavia whispered, her eyes fixed on the blonde man. She couldn't make out his face. She could only see his silvery eyes. And his wand gripped in his right hand, raising it slowly as he approached them. A map clasped firmly in his left hand.

Fuck.

All of a sudden, the entire corridor was submerged in total and utter darkness. Nothing could be seen. Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder. Octavia had used it before. But she didn't use it at this moment.

"Was that you?" Octavia whispered, her hand gripping her sister's tightly.

"No." Hermione whispered, griping her sister's hand just as tightly.

They girls did not speak any further, knowing that the powder only allowed them two minutes of darkness. So they crept through the corridor, pressed up against the wall as they hoped to pass the men unnoticed.

Blaise stood perfectly still, feigning being petrified as the corridor was consumed in darkness. For he acted quickly, discreetly dropping the Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder onto the stony ground, flicking his wand to his comrade to petrify him.

Draco was a powerful wizard, to be sure. So Blaise was concerned. He was concerned that Draco would be suspicious of what had just transpired. Draco had not been successfully hit with a curse in several years. His skills were flawless. So for Draco to find himself petrified in that moment would be rather suspicious indeed.

But Blaise felt that he had no choice. He had to act.

He had to do something.

Take advantage of Draco's trust in him. He had no choice.

He had to allow Granger the chance to escape. Two minutes to be exact.