Chapter 9

Youth by Daughter

A/N: Please heed the warning made in the prologue. The texts in italics are flashbacks.

"I don't understand why Bill can't work on dismantling the wards from outside the house. Surely if he is Disillusioned and we cover him it shouldn't be a problem. It's not like they have a Fidelius charm up, we can see the house from the street," Ron said exasperatedly.

The Order had called a meeting to organise the upcoming attack on Grimmauld Place. Everything needed to be sorted out before they could even arrange a date for it, there were to be no kinks or hiccups on the day as it was of utmost importance that they succeed in their plan to take back what rightfully belonged to them. They couldn't afford another defeat, it would be a harsh blow to their moral.

Especially since their numbers kept on growing. There seemed to be more and more Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs joining their ranks and even though Longbottom Manor was vast it was clear that if their numbers kept on increasing they would soon need the extra space that Grimmauld Place provided.

They had been in talks for over an hour and a half before the arguing started. Now three hours later, Hermione had lost all interest in what was happening as did most of the people gathered there. In fact the less they got done the better it was for her. She was in no hurry to go back into the fray of things.

It had been a few days since she had fallen asleep in the family room in the company of Fred. She had managed a meagre two hours of sleep before she woke up in a start, assailed by her nightmares. Thankfully Fred had been in the kitchen at the time, snooping around for a midnight snack which was convenient as it avoided her answering any questions he might have had, had he been witness to the scene. She had returned to her room once he had come back with a plate laden with food, giving the excuse of wanting to return to her bed. After that things had returned to a relative sense of normalcy. It was much easier going about your day when you were not trying to avoid someone.

"If Bill so much as touched the wards they would be aware of it and would descend on us like a flock of Cornish pixies. And no amount of covering will help him. Plus we don't want them to know we're coming. We need to have the element of surprise." Remus explained patiently.

"Well, then, why can't we use Snape to get in," Ron continued, his vendetta against his former Professor still ever present.

"If we use Snape, we lose the only link to Voldemort's inner circle we have. He is far too precious to lose," Kingsley answered.

"Nobody is indispensable," Ron countered, leaning against the back of his chair and crossing his arms over his chest, visibly upset that none of his ideas were being taken.

"What about the Floo," Lee asked sitting on the kitchen counter, him and the twins designated spot.

"I highly doubt that they leave that open," Dean chimed in, "it would be far too easy."

"That's the point. It's so simple that they wouldn't even think to close the access," Lee continued.

"Even if that were possible it's still not a viable option," Kingsley answered. "The only room connected to the Floo in Grimmauld Place is the kitchen. Which from what Snape has said is the room where most of the Death Eaters stay. Seeing as you can only travel one at a time the person who would be arriving would be easily overthrown. They'd stand no chance."

Lee slumped against the cabinet behind him in defeat. Around him, everyone sighed in despair, especially the ever growing number of new Order members who weren't used to such drawn out meetings.

"What about zis," said Fleur. She had been going through all the bits of parchment that people had written on during their surveillance of Grimmauld Place, trying to provide some kind of organisation to them. "Zere eez a Death Eater zat leaves the 'ouse on foot every Thursday at 9pm. Can't we use 'im to get into ze 'ouse?" she asked passing the bits of parchment to her husband for him to look at.

"What does he do?" Remus asked as he scanned the parchment over Bill's shoulders.

"It doesn't say," the eldest Weasley boy answered. "Nobody has thought to follow him. But it could definitely be an in for us. We know from Snape that the wards are keyed in to only let people with the Dark Mark through. We can use that to allow us entrance without raising suspicion."

"And what do you expect us to do with him? Cut the arm that carries the Dark Mark off and use it to get in?" Cormac laughed and Hermione felt the urge to jinx him. She wasn't sure who had let him but surely they weren't that desperate to allow him in their ranks.

"Besides the disturbing image that, that brings up. It wouldn't work. The way wards operate is by recognising the magic in the person being allowed in. An amputated arm has no magical signature, therefore, it is useless," Bill explained a distasteful look on his face. "And I think that in future we should limit the goriness to a minimum."

"What about the Imperius?" Michael Corner questioned from the back of the room and Harry winced slightly at his words. He wasn't one to use and even less promote the use of dark magic. Except in dire circumstances and even then he was still quite on the fence about it.

Everyone turned around to look at Michael. It was an odd suggestion and Hermione perked up in her chair, keen to find out what Kingsley and the others would answer. It was common knowledge that the Order were not to use Unforgivables.

"I know it's an… un-unconventional choice," he stammered as the eyes of the whole room were focused on him. "We can't keep skirting around things. While we debate over what is right and what is wrong the other side has no qualms in doing what needs to be done to get what they want. Our inability to toe the line is what has made it so difficult for us to succeed. This is war and we need to start acting like it or we'll end up on the losing side."

Hermione couldn't fault Michael for his way of thinking. It wasn't a particularly nice thought but it made sense and it was highly logical. A true Ravenclaw way of thinking.

"Would zat work?" Fleur questioned, expectantly looking at her husband.

"It could," Bill answered, his eyebrows furrowed as he thought about what that would entail.

"Wards are effectively dismantled during the second it takes for that person to step across the boundary. It leaves little to no room for anyone else to enter at the same time. If we want this to work we will need to have the Death Eater standing precisely on the border of the ward, therefore, enabling the ward to stay down and letting us get through."

"We won't have a lot of time though as the other Death Eaters will realise something is wrong when the wards stay down."

"Will we be able to Apparate once the wards are down?" Kingsley asked, tapping his quill against his sheet of parchment.

"I believe so," Bill answered. "They don't seem to have any other kind of security measure up. Which is surprising seeing as their wards aren't that strong."

"They're overly confident in their success. They don't expect us to attack Grimmauld place so soon after we lost it. They're taunting us by flaunting it in front of us and for others to see," Ron said.

"Well, we'll show them," Seamus shouted from the back, elephant by Ron's words and a few people around the table cheered in agreement.

"Everyone settle down, let's not get carried away," Kingsley's booming voice interrupted, waiting for the room to quieten down before continuing. "As much as I am against the use of Unforgivable curses we don't seem to have a better option and unless anybody has a better idea between now and Thursday I suggest we start planning for this."

All around the room people expressed their excitement at the approaching battle Hermione couldn't help but shudder, they all seemed to have a skewed view of what war really was. They wanted to fight for what they believed in and admirable as that was, she wasn't sure they knew what they'd be losing in the process. The brunette supposed that she probably had a pessimistic view of it all. Her eyes landed on Mrs Weasley who nervously wrung the tea towel she was holding, her eyes darting between all of her children. If there was one person more against the prospect of an imminent battle than Hermione it was her.

"Remus, Bill and myself will deal with the Imperius of the Death Eater," Kingsley continued as Remus scribbled away at what he was saying. "Everyone else will be divided into groups of four or more, dispersed around Grimmauld Place and the surroundings, hidden under Disillusionment or other. You will wait for our signal. Once the signal is sent you will Apparate to the designated spot inside the house. For those of you not familiar with the layout of the house you will have to Side-Along. We still need to..."

Hermione stopped listening after that. There would be plenty more meetings after this one where she could pay attention to. What she needed right now was to deal with the news and start preparing herself for what was to come.

Hermione was Disillusioned and crouched behind a large bush outside Grimmauld Place with Michael, Anthony and Ginny. It was mid-August and she was dying of heat under the weight of the heavy Shield cloak the twins had provided for everyone.

They had been slaving away making sure that everyone was equipped with a Jinx-Off kit for the day that she had hardly spoken to Fred. It suited her fine, though, he kept sending her worried looks across the kitchen table during Order meetings and she'd rather not discuss their reason. She knew it would only end up irritating her.

The four of them had been waiting for the signal for over an hour and her nerves were getting the better of her. It didn't help that she was in the company of two men she didn't know much about and could barely trust.

Idleness was no good for her, her thoughts kept on wandering to unpleasant places and she had started listing in her mind the various different ingredients to any potion she could think of to distract her mind.

Just then the sound of a door slamming shut woke them up from their reverie and they peered through the foliage to see a Death Eater coming out of number 12, the hood of his cloak pulled low down his head as he made his way down the street and around the corner.

Hermione tensed at the sight. It was time. A handful of minutes later, she watched as the same Death Eater made his way back to the front door of the ancestral home of the House of Black. This time, his demeanour seemed less purposeful and he seemed to hesitate in front of the entrance before standing very still in front of the porch steps, the toes of his boots touching the edge of the first step.

Just then 'C'est la vie' from B*Witched, a Muggle band sounded through the square; it was their signal. A popular song at the moment in the Muggle world it would be fairly normal for it to be heard in the streets by Muggles playing it particularly loudly out of their cars.

Hermione stared dumbfounded ahead of her, her heart hammering in her chest.

Beside her Ginny and the boys had jumped up at the sound of the song, wands at the ready. Without missing a beat. Ginny had grabbed hold of Michael's arm and with a pop had Apparated away, not wasting a single second.

"Hermione, what are you doing," Anthony shouted, bending down and grabbing Hermione by the upper arm, pulling her to her feet. "You need to Apparate us in. Now."

"I-I can't," she stammered, her eyes wide in panic as her eyes darted from Anthony's face to the figure still standing in front of the house.

"What do you mean you can't? Michael and Ginny are alone up there. We were assigned in groups of four to protect each other. What if it the rooms weren't empty like we taught and they landed in the middle of a group of Death Eaters." he said pointing to the house.

The four of them had been assigned the fourth floor of the house, away from the main conflict. It had been a request of Mrs Weasley that her youngest daughter be the furthest away from danger, hoping by the time she made it to the lower floors most of the danger would be out of the way. Hermione had been somewhat relieved when she found out that she had been teamed with Ginny.

"I can't get in without you. You need to Apparate me in," he pleaded and Hermione nodded, wrenching her eyes off the Death Eater, before taking her wand out of her holster and with a shaky hand took hold of Anthony's arm.

They Apparated into Sirius' bedroom, the sounds of battle permeating into the room as loud and clear as if they were in the middle of it. Anthony didn't waste a second, wrenching the door open so quickly it bounced loudly against the wall and ran down the hall towards the battle.

Hermione remained planted in the middle of the room, trying to calm the nervous beating of her heart. She could hear spells being shouted below and she felt nauseated at the thought of going into battle.

Steeling herself she walked out of the room. The whole floor was deserted and she tentatively made her way to the staircase. The noise was getting louder and louder as she approached, which only made the pounding in her heart increase. She made her way slowly down the stairs, peering over the bannister to catch a glimpse of what was happening only to be met with a cloud of dust and debris.

A loud cry tore through the noise and Hermione rushed down the flight of stairs, halting at the third-floor landing where Cho was duelling Marcus Flint. She had a deep gash in her thigh, blood was seeping out of it, turning the blue of her jeans into a dirty brown. One of her hands was holding onto her leg trying to staunch the bleeding as she tried to limp out of the way of Flint's curses.

Hermione raised her trembling wand and aimed a stunning spell at him, hitting him square in the back, sending him toppling forward.

"Thank you," Cho said, relieved at the sight of the Death Eater incapacitated at her feet. "I thought I was done for it."

"You need to get out of here," Hermione told the Ravenclaw as she eyed her wound, feeling light-headed at the sight of all the blood.

"No, I'm fine," Cho answered, waving her concern off. "It's just a scratch."

Hermione's eyebrows rose at the statement. "You're losing a lot of blood," she said indicating the small puddle of blood that had started pooling at her feet. "The wards are down, you should Apparate back to Headquarters."

Just then a loud explosion sounded in the house, startling the both of them, debris flying around them. Hermione looked back towards where the sound had come from, fear gripping at her stomach.

Cho was leaning against the wall when she turned back around, her face had turned an ashen grey colour. "Go!" Hermione shouted. "You can't help us in this state."

Cho pressed her lips together and nodded. Hermione was right she wouldn't be able to do much else in her state. The wound to her thigh was too deep and affected her movements too much. Straightening herself up, she grasped her wand tightly in her hand and Disapparated, leaving Hermione alone once again.

She slumped against the wall that Cho had just vacated in relief, hoping it would keep the slight dizziness she was starting to feel at bay. Taking a few deep breaths to steady herself, she tried to concentrate on her next course of action, but all it does is make the shouting and screaming around her more elephant.

Pushing herself off the wall, she stares at the unconscious body of Marcus, confused as to what she is to do with it when the smell of burning wood permeates through her nose, making it wrinkle. Leaving the body behind she follows the scent down the stairs, stopping halfway through her descent to have another look over the bannister.

A veil of smoke and ash had joined the previous dust and debris, filling the air with a foggy mist, making it hard to breathe. Beyond the smoke, bright amber flames licked the wooden panels of the staircase below while people ran around trying to control the flames.

Her legs felt numb under her and she couldn't bring herself to move. Her ears had started ringing and she felt overwhelmed by fear. So lightheaded was she that she didn't even see Lee Jordan running up the stairs until he had grabbed her by the shoulders, trying to shake her out of her daze.

"You've got to get out of here," he shouted when Hermione kept on staring at him with empty eyes. "It's over. We won. I've got to check that there's nobody left up there. But you go. Granger? Do you understand?"

Hermione nodded dumbly, her thoughts were all jumbled up. He looked at her once more before continuing his way up the stairs. He had a job to do. Shouting an Aguamenti on his way, the large stream of water gushed out of his wand and over the bannister in an attempt to try to help those down below by putting out some of the flames.

The word triggered in Hermione flashes of memory - sudden, violent, blaring.

"Smartest girl of her age they said, but you're just another stupid girl," a voice, taut and humming with fury. "You couldn't even escape from here without being caught."

A memory of pain so sharp, so intense, it took on qualities of sound and taste, the smell of fear, the presence of evil.

She was lying on the marble floor of Gringotts bank, a few metres away from the entrance. Steps away from freedom and the ability to Apparate away. Dolohov was standing over her chuckling to himself, his wand pointed at her chest.

Her whole body arched off the floor, a scream escaping her lips as he Crucio'd her. She had been hit so many times that even when he was not using the curse on her she could still feel the pain coursing through her body, making her body tense up in pain. She had managed to dislocate her shoulder during one particularly bad Crucio which left her unable to do much because of the pain.

"You know," he said, kneeling beside her and brushing away the strands of hair that clung to her forehead. Hermione tried to move away with no success, the ache in her body overpowering even the slightest chance of movement.

"A while ago the Dark Lord told us to research Muggles. 'Know thy enemy', he said, 'you can never be too prepared'. He wanted reports on their state of affairs, political climate, weaponry. Menial research tasks which I had no interest in. I was never a diligent student."

"So I decided to use my time in the pursuit of more pleasurable reading. Something that has intrigued me for a number of years. Torture," he hummed excitedly while brushing her hair behind her ears. "But not just any torture. Muggle torture and how they went about it without the use of magic. We all know about the burning at the stakes and flogging that witches had to suffer through but I needed more information. Those couldn't be the only ways, there had to be more that we didn't know about. And that's without considering more recent torture methods. I just really needed to be brought up to speed."

"Let me tell you that what I discovered was a real treasure trove. Muggles might be the inferior race but my aren't they inventive. Sensory deprivation, thumbscrews, physical disfigurement," he whispered almost lovingly, his tongue rolling around the words as if he were whispering sweet nothings into her ear.

"I'm not going to lie, it all seemed a little messy. All blood and gore. You can't hold that against them, though, they managed to do quite well without magic."

"All of this research got me thinking. What would I do if I got my hands on you again," he continued, his fingers tracing the delicate curve of her neck. Hermione whimpered next to him, angry tears slipping from the corner of her eyes, too weak to stop him from touching her. "Ever since our encounter at the Ministry, I haven't been able to get you out of my head. Your tenacity was impressive. I wanted to break it. Break you."

Dolohov hovered over her, both of his hand on either side of her head. He was so close she could feel his breath against her cheek and a shudder coursed through her body. "For a while, I toyed with the idea of some kind of physical torture. Thumbscrews hold such a fascination for me. Even a good old beating sounded tempting, even though it would mean getting my hands dirty. But I decided against it. It would be such a shame to ruin these delicate features," he grinned, leant forward and licked her jawline, from chin to ear.

Hermione let out a sob, her eyes shut tight as she tried to wrench herself away from him but only managing to move a few centimetres away from him.

"So delicate and so appetising," he hummed. "No, no, physical torture won't do. I have something much better planned for you," he continued as he rubbed his nose into her hair, inhaling deeply.

Falling back onto his knees, he picked up his wand before standing back up, towering over her, a jubilant look in his eyes.

"Aguamenti," he shouted, his wand pointed at her, a maniacal smile on his lips, as a torrent of water hit her face blocking her airways.

Hermione held her breath as the water drenched her, too weak to fight against it. She counted 50 seconds, blood pounding in her ears before Dolohov lifted the spell.

She spluttered and coughed trying to regain her breath and just as she managed to even it out Dolohov uttered the spell again. And again. And again. Each time the space in between each utterance growing shorter and shorter. Every time she thought she couldn't hold on anymore she found the strength to go on until the lack of oxygen became too much. The darkness enveloping her mind kept on growing and she took an involuntary breath in.

If Hermione thought that running out of air was terrible, the sensation of breathing in water was horrendous. She could feel the water in her mouth going down her windpipe, slowly filling her lungs. She had no more fight left in her. Hermione just wanted it to end.

Just as suddenly, the spell was lifted and the sudden ability to breathe took her by surprise. Hermione coughed up some of the water from her lungs, a deep, hacking cough that ended up making her vomit. When she's done she just lies on her back, staring at the ceiling, too weak to even wipe away the vomit from her lips.

Standing above her, Dolohov was laughing. The sound bounced off the marble walls of the bank, a sound so evil that she knew if she survived she'll be haunted by it. A laugh so despicable it made her want to vomit all over again but all she could manage was to pathetically dry heave, her stomach empty. It only made him laugh harder.

He casts the spell again. She can't breathe, she can't breathe…

She can't breathe.

Hermione's heart was pounding in her chest and her surroundings were blurred, she could barely remember where she was, only laughter echoed in her mind. She was going crazy, she knew she was and the damn laughter was what would send her over the edge.

A hand tentatively touched her upper arm and she flinched away from it, only then realising that she was sprawled on the floor. The air around her was suffocating, making it harder for her to breathe and only made her hyperventilate more.

A shock of red hair caught her attention and she focused on that. A familiar sight. He's standing over her. Ron? No, shorter. Stronger.

She was drenched in sweat and couldn't feel her arms anymore. A face came into focus. Brown eyes. Two ears. Fred.

He said something, she could see his lips moving but she couldn't hear him. There was only laughter and panic and ringing in her ears. He pointed his wand at her. And then, suddenly, nothing, just blissful emptiness.