Year Six – Part Three

He was here.

Hermione was practically bouncing up and down on the worn, ugly couch that occupied the library of Grimmauld Place as she repeated the statement over and over again in her head. It was Christmas and she was here and so was he. Professor Dolohov would only be here for the night, but it was Christmas Eve and he would be here.

With her.

After their moment together in his office, they had agreed to contain their affection to private places as not to draw attention to themselves. But Hermione thought for sure that Ginny and even Harry could tell there was something different about her; in the way she held herself. So long as Ron and any adults remained clueless, she could handle those two knowing.

But especially the adults… None of them needed to know anything. They were just beginning to trust and like her professor. She wouldn't be the one to mess that up. Even if she just wanted to sit in the man's lap and rub her cheeks across his constant stubble.

That would attract unwanted attention though. So, she begrudgingly restrained herself. But if he was here, they could close themselves off from everyone else. They could be alone and Hermione could be as affectionate as she wanted. And she really wanted that.

She was stuck waiting though. Apparently, her professor had to speak to Harry again. About what, she didn't quite know. But it was like what had happened over the summer. They disappeared for an hour, and no one spoke about it afterwards. Sometimes she thought about just asking the older wizard but she knew that if he didn't freely offer the information, then it wasn't something she would learn any time soon.

Even her best friend had been tight lipped about it. That and his meetings with Dumbledore throughout the first term. That latter wasn't too out of the ordinary, but combined they caused enough suspicion in the young witch's bright mind. She hated not knowing something.

After almost half an hour, she heard her best friend in the hallway, thanking Professor Dolohov for… whatever it was that he had said or did. Waiting a few more moments, she let the hallway clear before standing from her spot, stretching out her previously unused legs. Gathering herself, she tiptoed out of the library and climbed the stairs to the fourth floor.

She paused outside of his room, making sure no other occupants were around the corner, before knocking softly. He surprised her by opening the door himself, causing her to jump slightly. He raised a brow as he stepped out into the hallway, letting her see behind him into his room. Sirius, Remus, and Tonks all stood inside, each trying in different subtle ways to look around the larger man to see who was at his door.

Hermione tried to contain her cheeks from flushing but she couldn't tell if it was working or not. Luckily her professor was prepared to save her from embarrassment. "Miss Granger, right on time." She tried not to let the confusion of his statement throw her off as he ushered her inside of his room. The three adults all were looking at her in varying degrees of surprise.

"You were wondering about Creaton's Magical Influence, yes?" She quickly nodded her head along with his statement, still not fully understanding where he was going with this. He browsed the books on his shelf for a moment before plucking one off and turning to hand it to her. She gazed at the worn cover for a moment before his voice interrupted the wheels turning in her mind.

"The creation of spells is nothing to take lightly, Miss Granger. If you run into any problems or have any questions whilst reading, please come and discuss them with me right away." She looked up with a bright smile on her face. This was brilliant. He was brilliant.

"Yes, sir," she says pleasantly. She left his room after thanking him profusely, causing knowing smirks to appear on the other adults in the rooms faces. Typical Hermione, they probably figured. Little did they know that he had just saved her from explaining why she had come to his room in the first place. It certainly wasn't anything to do with school work. Although it did have a bit to do with bettering her knowledge of certain subjects.

Professor Dolohov was indeed an interesting subject, after all.

She passed the rest of the afternoon into the evening talking with Ron and Harry and their intense paranoia over Draco Malfoy. She honestly didn't see the big deal. So the Slytherin was acting a bit squirrely, it didn't mean he was "up to something" as Ron so eloquently put it. He could just be having a bad year. His father had been in Azkaban for a while and the Dark Lord had returned. That'd be enough to cause problems for anyone.

Mostly Hermione just wasn't worried because Professor Dolohov wasn't. He figured Malfoy would eventually take the Mark regardless, but wouldn't be given any duties until after he graduated. Hermione agreed with him. With both Professor Dolohov and Snape inside of Hogwarts, Voldemort wouldn't need anyone else. But it helped that both men were on their side.

When it was time for dinner, she had attempted to casually place herself next to her professor, but he had somehow been firmly accepted into the folds of the former Marauders. Sirius was reliving former school memories, probably in the hopes that the older wizard would join in and share some of his own. As unlikely as it seemed, Hermione almost hoped he would. He never spoke of his schooldays often.

Just as she was smugly thinking that he would just continue to throw disinterested looks at the scruffy Animagus, he ended up sighing heavily before speaking, "Alright, if it'll get you to shut up."

The table went silent, which had to be a first, as their professor took a quick drink, mulling over whatever he was about to say. He cleared his throat slightly and looked at Sirius and Remus' smirking faces from the corner of his eye.

"I'm not sure what you expect to hear…"

"Tell us something you remember about the Marauders!" One of the twins chimed. Professor Dolohov rolled his eyes but apparently was prepared to acquiesce.

"I didn't personally have too many interactions with the merry band of Gryffindors. That honor went to Lucius," as he said this, Sirius looked ready to make a comment before her professor swiftly cut him off. "Regardless. I do remember one particular instance my seventh year where I came across the four of them harassing Evans and Snape in the hallway."

"We didn't harass her," Sirius chirped unhappily. Her professor leveled an unimpressed stare at him that caused several occupants of the table to chuckle before he continued.

"I was passing through on my way to the library when I found them having some sort of childish standoff in the middle of the corridor."

"It wasn't childish!" Sirius barked.

"It was kind of childish," Remus remarked quietly from next to him.

"As I was saying," Professor Dolohov drawled. "I was fully prepared to turn and find a different route until I realized that the two with their backs to me were Snape and Evans. Slytherin's stick together and, well, I liked Evans."

"Evans… you mean my mum?" Harry asked from next to her. Hermione's ears perked up slightly at the statement as well. She had no idea that her professor had ever had any interactions with Harry's mom.

"I do. I tutored her that year in Divination." Most of those at the table looked at him in surprise. Obviously it hadn't been common knowledge. Even Sirius looked shocked. The only person who didn't was Lupin.

"I remember that…" He expressed softly. "She told me Severus had recommended you and that without you she would have failed."

"She was plenty good on her own, she just lacked incentive," the darker man said as he shrugged his shoulder.

"And what sort of incentive did you give her?" Sirius asked with a suspicious look on his face.

Professor Dolohov raised an eyebrow before quipping, "I told her to picture those that bothered her in embarrassing and scandalous positions. She told me shortly after her last exam in the class that Trelawney had been especially impressed with her prophecy concerning yours and Potter's love life."

"You didn't!" The twins cried out in disbelief as Sirius looked on in horror.

"Was that why the old bat seemed so flustered whenever she saw James and I alone together?!" Her professor hid his grin behind his glass as the room erupted into laughter. When it began to die down, he went back to his original story.

"But, as I was saying, I couldn't just leave the two of them on their own. So I made use of a spell that I had recently invented." He caught Hermione's eye and smirked before saying, "The Lightened Load charm has strange effects when cast on living beings. They wind up weighing less than the gravity around them and floating to the ceilings."

Hermione covered her mouth with her hands as she and the table erupted in mirth yet again. Sirius was shouting in indignation as her professor maintained a look of complete innocence. Apparently the former convict hadn't known that it was her professor who had caused them to spend hours practically stuck to the stony castle ceilings.

"It took quite a while for that spell to wear off," Remus mused as Sirius looked like a perpetuate child next to him.

"That was the intended purpose," the older wizard remarked dryly. But it caused a grin to break out on Sirius' previously grumpy face.

"I knew you weren't a stick in the mud Dolohov," he boasted.

The darker man deadpanned before remarking, "No, just more creative than Gryffindors apparently."

Hermione smiled as the noise level around them continued to fluctuate. It was great to see him in this element. He seemed to be enjoying himself. And he had opened up a bit! Harry had certainly looked interested at the new information about his mother.

But she still maintained that she wanted to be alone with him.

After another few hours of menial and separate conversations, most of the house's occupants were heading off to bed. They wanted to be able to wake up early in the morning for holiday celebrations. Hermione would have shared their sentiments if she wasn't sitting in her room, cursing Sirius Black for insisting that Professor Dolohov, him, and Remus sit in his father's study and drink his good whiskey.

This was the only moment that Hermione regretted integrating her professor with the rest of the order. They were taking all of his attention.

Shortly after midnight, Hermione crept out of her room to the sound of complete silence throughout the place. She went downstairs first and made sure that the men weren't still in the bloody study. Seeing that they weren't, she padded her way back upstairs and straight to the fourth floor, second door on the left.

She knocked quickly and quietly on the door but after several minutes passed, she grew concerned. Had he already gone somewhere else instead of staying the night like she had previously heard? Reaching out and grabbing the doorknob, she gave it an experimental twist and was disheartened to see it turn and open. Normally Professor Dolohov warded his door before tucking in for the night.

Unless… She paused as she contemplated opening the door and just looking inside. He could have left it unwarded for her…

Doing as her gut said, she pushed open the door and shuffled inside, closing it silently behind her. Turning to look around the darkened room, she immediately noticed that the bed was occupied. Creeping over to the side of his bed, Hermione saw that her professor was fast asleep on his stomach. She suppressed a giggle as she pulled back the covers and crawled in next to him.

He must have passed out from drinking too much.

She snuggled in close to the warm man and found herself drifting off soon after, pleasantly tucked into his side with his intoxicating smell swirling around her.

Waking up the morning after, she found that she was practically laying on top of the man who was still out like a light. But they had shifted in the middle of the night, he was on his back with one of his arms curled underneath of her head and woven into her bird's nest hair. She, on the other hand, was draped across his chest with her legs practically straddling his thigh.

He made a better bed than his actual one did, she mused sleepily.

Shifting slightly, she looked up at his peaceful features and was content to just lay and watch him for a few minutes as she let herself wake up. Feeling the urge to kiss him after being deprived for so long yesterday, she attempted to scoot herself up when her thigh brushed against an indescribable hardness.

Stopping where she was, Hermione's sleep addled mind began working in overdrive before she came to the conclusion that men often had that problem upon waking. Most books described it as 'morning wood.' Slightly embarrassed that she was thinking of her professor's genitals, she quickly flopped herself off of the man, waking him up in the process.

"Bloody hell!" She heard him swear lowly as he sat up abruptly. He rubbed his eyes to rid the sleep away before glancing down at her. "You know… there are much better, easier, and more pleasurable ways to wake me up in the morning."

At the word 'pleasure', her face turned what felt like a brilliant shade of red. He quirked an eyebrow at her and asked, "Having ideas already?"

"S-Shut up…" She stammered out, crossing her arms across her chest as she felt the bed rumble at his deep chuckling. Curse him and his sexy, sleep filled voice…

"I'm only teasing malyutka. It's a pleasure just being able to wake up next to you in the morning." Her head shot up but he had already fallen onto his back with his eyes shut. She curled up next to him and pressed a small kiss into his bare shoulder blade.

"I like waking up next to you as well." He was silent, but she could see his lip curled up amidst the stubble. And the indent on his cheek was visible. He was clearly pleased by her sentiments.

"Do you have to leave today?" She asked after a few minutes of silence had passed. She listened to the rumble of his chest as he spoke,

"Yes. I was only asked to stay for the night."

"But you could stay longer… couldn't you?" She didn't want to pressure him or bother him, but she wanted more time like this. More of him to herself.

"I'm afraid not. I have prior obligations."

"Like what?" But her question went unanswered and she knew that it wouldn't be answered anytime soon either. He still kept some secrets to himself. And instead of just lying to her, he remained silent. She supposed it was better. Annoying but better.

"You won't have to visit Voldemort, will you?" That was her guess for what he would be doing and she sincerely hoped that wasn't the case. It was a holiday and that megalomaniac could ruin it easily.

"No. Not that I'm aware of." They were silent for a bit after that before Hermione asked another question that often weighed on her mind.

"How do you go before him without him knowing that you aren't really loyal to him anymore?"

"Occlumency," her professor answered immediately.

"You know it?" She asked, surprised but also not at the same time. He was a brilliant man. Why wouldn't he know how to shield his thoughts from others?

"Obviously," he teased, earning him a sharp poke in the ribs. He chuckled at her expense again before continuing. "I taught myself. But I often practiced with my mother. She was skilled at both shielding and reading the mind."

"What was your mother like? Besides that," she asked him.

"Strong was always the first word that came to my mind. She stood tall and proud in any situation and never backed down to anyone. Not even my father. I often thought she would be a Gryffindor if she had ever attended Hogwarts. But she was privately trained in Russia by tutors as most pureblood women are in my home country."

"She sounds amazing…" Hermione said, a hint of awe in her voice. That explains why her professor is so amazing. He must have had one stellar role model.

"She is," he remarked fondly. "But, I think it's time we get up for the day, don't you?"

Hermione groaned as she pressed her face into his chest, "Do we have to? I hardly got to spend any time with you. Sirius kept stealing you away."

She felt him press a kiss into the top of her hair. "Black is not nearly pretty enough nor enough of my type to hold my constant attention."

Grinning from ear to ear, Hermione allowed him to rise from the bed to get dressed. She even let him usher her out so that she could return to her own room to start the busy day of gift exchanges. It didn't matter because while he was saying that Sirius wasn't his type:

He was implying that she was.

Were they in the habit of poisoning students now?

Antonin cast a quick side-eye to the Potion's Master standing on his right. While he wouldn't put it out of the man's repertoire to poison anyone, let alone a Weasley, it just didn't seem like the kind of thing he would do. Especially not right under everyone's noses. And not with such a horrific, yet easily recognizable poison.

Even with his varying grasps of Potions knowledge, Antonin could still tell that the poison used was readily available in Knockturn Alley and wasn't a typical kind you used for spiking drinks or food. Most who were convicted of using it would shove it down a person's throat as a form of torture because of how slow acting and painful it was.

Whoever tried to inflict it on the Headmaster obviously didn't possess enough knowledge about it.

Antonin had taken the bottle from Slughorn and upon taking a quick whiff of it, could immediately smell the distinctive aroma of nightshade. The alcohol did nothing to mask the sickly sweet scent. That was what made it so ineffective in food and drinks. There was nothing that could hide it.

The individual responsible for this had to either be a complete idiot or desperate. Or both, honestly. There were so many better ways to kill a person, Antonin thought to himself. Even in the area of poisons. You just had to be creative enough.

Realizing that those thoughts weren't helping his supposedly reformed persona, he redirected his attention back to the Gryffindor's bedside. Hermione was there, he noted affectionately. She looked adorable with a furrow in her brows and concern shining through her eyes. Even if it wasn't directed at him, he could still appreciate it.

He was slightly surprised when he had arrived earlier and saw her at the boy's bedside. He had expected jealousy to rage through him like with what had happened during the McLaggen debacle. But something clicked in his mind that her best friend had almost died and he shouldn't be an arse about it.

Besides, Weasley wasn't the one she spent her free time saddled up next to.

"Who would attempt to poison the Headmaster inside of his own school?" Minerva asked as she stood watching over her unconscious cub with unease written in her expression.

"There has been no activity amongst the Death Eaters that suggests any of them having any involvement," he heard the man next to him slow enunciate. Snape would be the authority on that knowledge. Antonin had only been to see the Dark Lord, personally, twice since term started. And neither meeting lasted longer than ten minutes.

He was just ordered to reveal any news he dubbed important and then return as soon as possible. But he had the nagging suspicion that something big was going to happen soon. This attack on Dumbledore on solidified it. Especially when it suddenly occurred to him who or what the perpetrator could be.

"A student," he breathed out, causing Snape to turn his head sharply in his direction.

"What was that Antonin, my boy?" Slughorn asked him.

"A student," he repeated, only louder. "A student would have the means to do this and the inexperience to fail this miserably at it."

"But what student would do this?" Draco Malfoy, he answered instantly. But he wouldn't say it out loud. If the boy was behind this, it was only because either he was given the task of doing so or he was trying to redeem his family. Either way, he wasn't a threat to be taken seriously. Not if he could botch a simple poisoning.

Instead, Antonin stayed silent and noted that Snape did as well. Good, they were on the same page for once. Much as he detested the man, they did have similar qualities that made it easier to predict what he was thinking. And it was usually the same thing the older man was thinking.

"Nevertheless, those are big accusations, Antonin. What proof could you possibly have that it could be a student?" Minerva looked unconvinced as the Headmaster looked thoughtful.

Resisting the urge to scoff at such a question, he answered without hesitation, "Any Death Eater worth his salt would know countless ways to assassinate a target. There's a particular charm that can be infused in a drink to make most potions undetectable to untrained and in some circumstances, even trained eyes."

The room went silent as every eye, except Weasley's, was on him. Most expressions holding varying degrees of discomfort.

"Yes, well… I won't ask how you know that Antonin, but it didn't exactly answer the question," his ex-professor stated curtly as she continued to eye him with worry. He felt like planting his hand over his face. Why did his disturbing knowledge of murder have to show at inopportune moments such as these?

He cleared his throat in slight embarrassment before continuing, "You see, it couldn't have been a trained Death Eater. They wouldn't have chosen such a recognizable poison to begin with. And with the cursed necklace from a few weeks ago, and the Imperius Curse on Miss Bell being positively weak… Whoever cast it either didn't mean it or didn't have nearly enough practice using it. Signs of inexperience, overconfidence, and desperation point to the culprit being a student."

The adults in the room nodded their heads thoughtfully as his explanation. When he wasn't discussing his own methods of murder, most were on board with his train of thought. And it made sense, obviously. He had been a Death Eater long enough to know that while some of them were utterly moronic, they were at least lethal at murder. A student, not so much.

As the deliberation continued, he decided to excuse himself for the evening. He'd had enough talk of potential death and murder plots. He looked across the room and made eye contact with his little witch. She had a questioning look in her eye but he gave her a small smile before turning and indicating that he was about to leave. She gave him one of his favorite bright smiles before turning to go back to the Weasley brat.

Boy.

He meant boy.

Looks like his jealousy had just been waiting to manifest itself.

Stifling a groan, he made to leave, but the Headmaster had cut him off. "Antonin, could you walk an old man to his tower?" Realizing that he had no choice in that matter, he did as he was asked and trailed next to the man through the dimmed corridors.

"I did have ulterior motives for asking you to accompany me," he admitted once they neared his office.

"Of course you did," he replied, eyes never straying from their dead set position in front of him. Whatever Dumbledore had to say, Antonin would still seem disinterested in it. It was his Slytherin persona after all.

"I wanted to check up and see how you and Miss Granger were fairing."

Well. That certainly wasn't what he was expecting. Coming to a complete halt, Antonin watched the wizened man's back with unease. Just what was he getting at this time?

"Don't look so concerned, Antonin. Severus merely brought to my attention the incident you two had at Horace's Christmas party. Dragging her through the hallways was a bit uncouth, don't you think?"

In hindsight, yes. But since when had Snape been there? Was it possible he had missed the surly man in his search for Hermione? It was entirely possible. He hadn't exactly been in the right state of mind.

"I don't mean to pry, but I'm worried about what you believe is happening here. Miss Granger is a child, no matter her increased age from Time Turner usage. She has most of her life to live, albeit riding on our victory over Tom. This is no time for distractions. You understand that Antonin."

Distractions… That wasn't what Hermione was though. Sure, he sometimes felt distracted by her, but ultimately he knew what was at stake. He knew what he had to do to make sure as many people made it out of this brewing war alive. And he would kill himself before he allowed Hermione to perish.

"I understand Albus."

The old man smiled sadly at him, "I don't believe that you do. You are far too fixated on her. You rushed to the Ministry with the hopes of saving her but you forget that Harry is our hope. He must come before all else. Even our feelings of protectiveness."

Was that all he felt? Protective? Perhaps at first. When she was truly a child. Then possessive. And then infatuation. Now he held her to a certain degree of affection and fondness. Did he…? No, this is exactly what the Headmaster was talking about.

"Antonin," the old wizard murmured, pulling him from his thoughts. "I can see that you care about her and she for you. But that's all it is. Remember that. We can care for others without letting them dictate our choices."

Care. Comfort. Safety. He wanted to fall to his knees in anguish. Was that truly all he felt for her? Was that really all she felt for him? Perhaps it was better that way… He would most likely die before the end of this war. Could he save her and himself from future, unnecessary heartbreak?

Would he, was the better question.

They were running.

She and Luna. Death Eaters had invaded the castle and they had been trying to find the professors who might not know. They were currently rushing down to the dungeons to find Professor Snape. The younger girl was matching Hermione's speed as they fled through the hallways.

Hermione was grateful for the companionship. It made it less stressful to know that she wasn't alone in this situation. As they downed another step of stairs that immediately placed themselves accordingly with Hermione's urgency and rushed down adjacent corridors, they came to a grinding halt when two figures blocked their path.

She instantly recognized one of the figures; Rabastan Lestrange.

The other she wasn't entirely certain about. But he had a few familiar features with one of Malfoy's lackeys. Crabbe. Could it be a relative of his?

She didn't have time to think much on the subject as Lestrange spotted them, a wide grin crossing his features. "Well, hello there pretties. Lost? Gryffindors and Ravenclaws certainly don't belong in the chilly dungeons."

Despite his almost friendly words, Hermione took a tentative step backwards, grasping Luna's hand as she did. She would protect the petite blonde with everything she had if need be.

"Now, now, none of that. We just crossed paths. Wouldn't want to disturb fate, would you?" Lestrange's voice dripped with something that Hermione couldn't place. But she didn't like it. It sent shivers racking down her spine and goosebumps to erupt on her arms. She took another step back as the men in front of her took several steps forward.

"Watch the hallway, Crabbe. I'm just gonna… chat with these two lovely ladies for a moment." So he was related, her mind processed before realizing that they were going to be alone with the most definitely dangerous man still unnervingly grinning at her.

"S-Stay away…" She cursed herself for stammering, but she maintained enough confidence to stand her ground, not looking away even as the Death Eater gave a chilling laugh.

"Gryffindors. Always so brave," he taunted, tilting his head slightly as he continued walking towards them. "I can respect that. It's got a certain… sexy quality about it," the lewd implication didn't go unnoticed by Hermione. She took another step backwards but wasn't paying attention as the man almost in front of them lunged forward, grabbing her wand arm and pining it behind her.

"Hermione," she heard Luna's airy but underlined panicked voice say.

"Hermione?" Lestrange repeated, testing her name on his lips. "Pretty name. Unique. I like it," he drawled out, pulling her closer to his lean form. He wasn't exactly muscular, just thin and lanky with enough of a grip that she couldn't escape from.

He dropped his head by her ear and she heard him whisper harshly, "You ever been fucked by a real man, Her-mi-knee." She struggled against him, but he used his body weight and height to push her into a wall, keeping her still. Flicking his wand, he pinned her friend in place before conjuring ropes that attached to Hermione's hands.

Another wordless spell had them attached to the wall above her head, heaving her chest out for his disgusting gaze to wander over. She continued to squirm but he placed his thigh between her legs to still her frantic movements.

"Come now, lovely. Just stay still. I promise you'll enjoy yourself. I'm quite the lover, even to Mudbloods like yourself," he rasped into her ear as he ground himself into her hip. She could feel a similar outline of anatomy that she could with Professor…

She choked back at sob at the thought of her wizard. He must be looking for her. Surely he was. And here she was, about to have her virginity forcefully taken from her by a disgusting, cruel, parody of a man. She wanted her first time to be special. She wanted sex in general to be with someone she cared about. Someone she loved.

She wanted it to be with Professor Dolohov.

Tears escaped from her eyes as her vest was ripped and the buttons of her blouse torn open. Lestrange eyed her breasts hungrily for a brief pause before taking them in his hands and gripping them painfully. Hermione gasped in pain and the man took it as a sign to begin plundering her mouth with his own.

He was much harder and brutish than the only other man she's kissed. He wasn't at all gentle or passionate. Just severe with the intent to cause as much pain as possible.

His tongue wrapping around hers felt foreign and unwelcomed. The taste of him was all wrong. The smell of expensive cologne fogged her senses and made her feel detached from the situation. Or maybe she just already was. She didn't want to be there. She didn't want this horrible man to paw all over her.

Just as she felt on the brink of just giving up and accepting her fate as she heard the clang of a buckle being undone, the pressing weight on the front of her body disappeared. Her arms fell from the ropes binding her and she dropped like an unused marionette to the stone ground. Small, soft hands grasped at the remains of her shirt and helped to cover her remaining modesty.

But she couldn't pay them any mind. She was mesmerized by the sight in front of her.

Was it even possible to kill a man with your bare hands? Professor Dolohov made it look like it could be quite easy. His large hands that normally touched Hermione with the softest caresses were veiny and red as they squeezed Rabastan Lestrange's throat tighter and tighter.

He was saying something; she could tell because his mouth was moving with purpose. But he was speaking to low and the gurgling sounds coming from the shorter man were blocking any hope of hearing what was happening. But by the way Lestranges' eyes began to widen, it couldn't have been anything good.

"Miss Lovegood," she heard her professor say, unbelievably calm.

"Yes, sir?" Her friend breathed out. She didn't look even slightly disturbed by the sight in front of her. It was as though watching a grown man choke the life out of another were a daily occurrence to her.

"Please take Miss Granger to the stairwell and wait for me there. I will only be a moment." His voice was disturbingly to the point. But Hermione didn't dwell too much on it. She secretly hoped that he was about to do exactly what he seemed to be edging towards.

It wouldn't be a pity for that vile man to die.

She let Luna help her off of the floor and accepted the younger girl's hand as she cheerily led her back down the hallway in the direction they had previously come from. They waited by the stairwell for what seemed like hours to Hermione but was probably only a few minutes in real time.

A shadow caught their attention as it grew closer and closer. But it was their professor, unharmed, and still looking completely unaffected. Had he killed Lestrange? She knew he had killed others before but that was his past. Had he done so again though? For her?

Why did the thought of him murdering someone for her send a shooting spasm straight to her gut? Did she actually like the idea of someone dying at the hands of the wizard who was dead set on protecting her?

… Yes.

"Are you alright?" His voice had dropped an octave into what she called his 'worrying tone.' She smiled slightly and nodded her head. Relief covered his features as he looked away and up the moving staircases.

"There are Death Eaters scattered around the castle. Most are in or around the Great Hall though. The Order is there as well."

"Will we join them professor?" Luna asked happily. Professor Dolohov regarded her warmly before nodding.

"Yes, Miss Lovegood. We'll head to the Great Hall and see what's become of the situation."

And with that, he was leading them back up through the castle towards the main level. Hermione stayed close to his left side while Luna stayed close to her, leaving their professor's wand arm free should he need to use it.

They made it to the hallway outside the entrance to the hall when a figure burst through the doors. It was a large, burly looking wizard with blonde hair. Hermione thought he seemed oddly familiar. Like she had seen him somewhere before. The man looked straight up and met the eyes of her professor before a strange sense of relief fell across his face.

"Dolohov!" The man called, beginning to walk closer to them. Hermione looked up and saw the fearsome man eye the other with distaste before he raised his wand and shot a well-placed stunning spell straight to the bulky man's chest.

As he flew backwards and into the stone wall across the way, more people filed out of the Great Hall. Order members, she saw. Sirius was the first she recognized as his black curls flew back and forth as he looked between her professor and the Death Eater that had just been thrown into the wall.

"Wow. Good shot, Dolohov," he remarked pleasantly. Her professor rolled his eyes as he led them closer to the gathered group consisting of professors and Order members.

"What'd Rowle ever do to you?" Tonks teased as they stood in front of them. Rowle… Hermione remembered the name. He had graduated with Tonks, she remembered the woman telling her about him once. But she barely remembered anything past that point.

"Plenty," her professor returned bitingly. No one questioned it. Besides being a Death Eater, Rowle had also been a Slytherin and a former student of her professor's. He probably had more than enough incentive to not like the guy.

"We should go find Dumbledore. Let him know that all the Death Eaters have either fled or been subdued," Kingsley announced suddenly, giving them all incentive to do something. But as they were about to break apart, a chilling voice rang out.

"Dumbledore's dead."

Hermione felt Professor Dolohov spin around and lock eyes with her best friend. He stood sullenly next to Remus and Ron. Sirius gaped at him as the others also expressed different forms of disbelief.

"What…?" She heard the man next to her ask, his low voice filled with confusion.

"He's dead," Harry repeated. "Snape killed him."

"That bastard!" They could hear Sirius shout as he began ranting and raving about how he knew it. How he knew the 'slimy bastard couldn't be trusted.' Hermione just felt her heart drop. With the Headmaster gone… What would happen now? What would they do?

She looked up at the wizard next to her but he had completely closed off his expression, looking every inch the cold and mysterious man she met six years ago when she first walked into his classroom. And she didn't like the reversion one bit.

What did this mean? For her, for him, for everyone?

Huddling closer into his side, Hermione closed herself off to the conversations happening around her. She just kept her arm looped with the only man who could make her feel completely safe. The only one who could give her the comfort she so desperately desired in this moment of devastation.

And hopefully, she could give just a little bit back.

The Great Hall was in pieces.

Older students were littered around, picking up any debris that they could move on their own. Order members stood in huddles, conversing with each other. A solemn cloud seemed to hang over the entire castle. With their leader and figurehead gone, everyone seemed to be existing in a sort of limbo. Moving but not necessarily with purpose.

Professor McGonagall stood with Order members Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks, and the Weasley patriarch, Arthur Weasley. A few students stood mixed in with them. Harry Potter was consoling Ginny Weasley while her older brother Ron stood silently next to Luna Lovegood. They were observing the surrounding rubble with forlorn faces.

Until the student's noticed that someone was missing from their little group.

"Where's Hermione?" Ginny asked uncertainly, looking around as though she might have just missed her curly haired friend. The adults looked around as well, surprised that they hadn't noticed her absence either. They figured the trio would be all together. It hadn't occurred to them that one would be missing.

"She's with Professor Dolohov," Luna answered dreamily, staring off into the corner of the room. No one bothered following her gaze though and instead looked for the tall, imposing figure they would be able to identify quickly.

He was a yard or so from them, charming a broken table back together. But they also noticed the young girl practically glued to his side. She merely watched him fix the room with an unreadable face. The group eyed them in bewilderment until the Ravenclaw spoke up again.

"I think Hermione feels safe with him. He did protect her from Rabastan Lestrange. And when they're together, the Wrackspurts are away from them. Far, far away. It's much better this way," she amended. After sharing a few puzzled looks, the adults figured that it Hermione felt safer around the intimidating man, then they wouldn't intrude on that. Especially if she had been attacked.

However, a few minutes later, the dark form of the Theory Professor had entrenched in the group's circle. All of their eyes went to his with a few flicking down to the miserable looking girl next to him.

"Miss Weasley, could you take Miss Granger back to Gryffindor Tower?" The redhead nodded dutifully as his words and moved as to reach for her friend but the brunette had reared away and looked up in confusion.

"What?" She asked.

The older wizard didn't even look at her as he said, "You've had a tiring day. It's time for you to go get some rest."

Hermione Granger struggled against her friends as they pulled her off of their professor and towards the double doors of the hall. "B-But… What about you?" She called.

"I'll be fine, Miss Granger." But he still wouldn't look at her, much to the concern of the remaining adults.

"Come on Hermione, Luna's got permission to stay with us too. We'll all be together tonight," Ginny said in a soothing voice, trying to calm her friend. The two others in the trio tried to comfort their friend as well but the girl was inconsolable without the dangerous man avoiding her eye.

"Professor!" They heard her call out as she was half carried from the Great Hall by the Weasley siblings. The adults standing around looked back to the man who stood stoically with a blank expression on his face. When the echo of the girl's cries could no longer be heard, the dark wizard grumbled out,

"Is she gone?" Sirius nodded his head slowly, confirming that she was.

As soon as he did, the imposing wizard hissed in pain as he gripped his left forearm, almost doubling over in the process. His breathing became labored as he struggled to right himself. The surrounding Order members looked on in horror. They had never seen what happens when a Death Eater was called.

"Antonin…" McGonagall expressed in concern for the man. He lurched forward and grabbed the older witch by her shoulders, a crazed look in his eye.

"I-I won't be back… Minerva. I won't be back," he managed to grit out. The others around them looked on in fear as his words sunk in. Would he be… killed?

"Antonin-" McGonagall started, only to be cut off by the man clutching her tightly.

"Even if he doesn't kill me; And there's only a small chance that he won't… Even if he doesn't, with the Headmaster... gone… I won't be back here. He will see nothing holding me here anymore. I will no longer be a professor…"

"I understand, my boy," the woman spoke sadly, eyeing her former student who usually held himself with such power and pride, reduced to fear and uncertainty.

"I need you to know something. Before I go there, I need someone to know this," he leaned closer and proceeded to whisper something into the woman's ear that no one else around them could hear. As he pulled away, McGonagall looked in absolute shock before Antonin turned his wand on her, casting a bright, white charm in her face.

"You'll know if and when I die. The memory of what I just said to you will come back and you'll know," he rasped in a broken voice. The weathered witch grasped the man's cheeks between her hands.

"Be safe, Antonin."

He didn't say anything but he didn't have to. It was in the fates' hands now; whether he lived or died. As he turned to leave, another voice from the group spoke up.

"The Burrow," Arthur Weasley said, watching the other wizard with determination. "When you're done, come to the Burrow. You'll always be welcomed there."

With a grateful look on his face, Antonin Dolohov looked at the faces of those he could tentatively call friends and colleagues. Those he was proud to have known in the ways that he did. Those who had somehow managed to care about his livelihood along the way.

And with one final thought dedicated to a tiny witch who had been dragged off earlier, he turned from the hall and ran.

To death, to hell, or to forces unknown.

He could only hope to live through the night.