Author's Note: No, I can't believe it myself.
Chapter Ten
The City of End and Endlessness
"Nine minutes to midnight," Remus said, checking his pocket watch by the flame of Spike's cigarette lighter.
Hermione tugged on the edge of her black knit cap. Castle Yfelwulf loomed before them, the bulk of the castle casting shadows across the moat. In the bright moonlight, she could see the castle fairly clearly. It looks like a storybook picture, she thought, complete with crenelated battlements and towers rising from the corners of the keep walls. The Death Eaters pacing the tops of the curtain wall spoiled the illusion, though.
"Doesn't like visitors, does he?" Spike said, watching the Death Eaters.
"Doesn't know a thing about defense," Angel grumbled. "Look at this. Blind spots everywhere."
"I like blind spots," Wesley said dryly, with a glance at Remus. "They make things easier."
"Come on," Ginny said. "This is Lord Voldemort. When has he ever gone for practicality over show?"
On Ginny's other side, Harry twitched slightly, whether from impatience or bad memories Hermione wasn't sure. Ginny brushed up against him reassuringly.
Lupin pulled a folded-up map from his pocket and consulted it. "Entry point is on the right side, towards the back. Wards will be down in –" he checked his pocket watch again – "seven minutes. Everyone ready? This way."
Hermione breathed deeply and trotted after him. Ginny fell into step beside her, glanced up at the guards, tossed her head and shot Hermione a small grin. All fearless determination, Harry pushed ahead and marched behind Lupin. Illyria trailed behind the group; Hermione glanced back and was unnerved by the coolly thoughtful, speculative look on its face.
They hastened along, aware that even in black and in the shadow of the castle they were still eight very highly visible blobs. Lupin watched the map as they moved, finally gesturing them to a stop near the back of the keep. "Here's the spot," he said quietly. "Wards will be down in two minutes. Everyone sure on the plan?"
It was Malfoy's plan, which meant Hermione didn't like it, but they hadn't had the time to come up with anything else. The teams of Death Eaters assigned to watch the ramparts changed at midnight. This tower was furthest from where the team started their patrol, giving the group a three or four minute window to vault the castle wall from the blind spot at the base of the tower. Normally a complicated set of wards prevented unexpected visitors from setting foot inside the keep, but Malfoy had arranged for the wards to drop for four minutes at midnight. Provided they worked quickly enough, they could be inside the keep once the wards went back up, and the wards would then recognize them as authorized residents of Castle Yfelwulf. From there, it was on them to infiltrate further into the castle.
"Into the water," Lupin said, after one last check of his pocket watch, and he dropped into the water with a quiet splash. Ginny traded a rueful look with Hermione – this had been her least favorite part of the plan – and stepped off the embankment. Sighing, Hermione plunged into the black water and paddled toward the other side.
She was nearly there when she felt a small shudder ripple through the water as the wards came down. Four minutes starts now, she thought, and lunged for the other side of the moat. Wesley swam over to her as she lifted her wand out of the water and jabbed it at the wall, thinking Vinculus!
A sturdy rope shot out of the end of her wand, the end of the rope wrapping and tying around one of the crenelations on the curtain wall. Further down the wall, Remus and Ginny had their ropes up, with Harry's following a second later. Wesley caught the end of the rope nearest Hermione as it fell from her wand and tied it around himself. "Ready," he announced.
"Wingardium Leviosa!" Hermione whispered, flicking her wand at Wesley. As he lifted out of the water, his eyes widened just slightly, but he quickly grabbed the rope and began hauling himself toward the parapets, moving quickly before the spell wore off. Along the wall, Angel, Spike and Illyria were making their way up to the top of the wall as well, Angel with his usual air of grim concentration, Spike taking a moment to flap his arms experimentally, and Illyria looking disgusted, as if flight were beneath its dignity.
Wesley's rope landed in the water in front of her, and immediately Hermione realized a problem: she couldn't tread water and tie the rope around herself at the same time, let alone cast a spell. She settled for awkwardly looping it around herself and tucking the end back into one of the loops and then, aiming her wand at herself as best she could, she cast again.
With the same lump of dread in her stomach that she got when flying on a broom, she lifted into the air and began pulling herself along the room. Water streamed down her legs as she moved along the rope. "Hurry, Hermione!" Ginny hissed – the rope was coming loose – Hermione swallowed and pulled faster – and then Angel was there, guiding her over the edge of the battlement and steadying her on her feet.
"Sixty seconds," Lupin said from where he was crouched behind a crenelation.
This next bit had seemed like a good idea when they were planning their entry, but faced with the reality of flinging herself off the side of a sixteen-foot high wall, Hermione was starting to doubt. Purple light flickered around Wesley as she cast the Cushioning Charm on him. "Go!" she said urgently. Looking dubious, Wesley jumped. Hermione recast the spell on herself, and then feeling as if she were wrapped in several layers of sofa cushions, she jumped.
She was in the air just long enough for blind terror to set in, a sort of hysterical screaming in the back of her head – IT'S NOT WORKING IT'S NOT WORKING – and then she hit the ground. The impact was fairly hard, as if she'd taken a bad fall, but not the sort of bone-fracturing crash that should have resulted from a jump of that height. Hermione lay there for a moment, waiting for her heart to slow down and her legs to feel like they might be able to support her weight.
"Is it too late to call this off?" Ginny muttered. "I'm not sure I'll ever be able to move again."
From where she lay sprawled on the ground, Hermione felt the second shudder that was the wards going back up. She held her breath, waiting for the shrieking or supernatural assault to start, but Castle Yfelwulf remained silent and dark. "All right?" Lupin asked, reaching a hand down to help her up. "We don't have long before the guards patrol this side of the keep."
Angel was already making for the wall of the castle keep, ducking as he passed under window sills, the rest of the group trailing after him. Remus put a steadying hand on Hermione's arm, who dusted herself off and nodded up at him.
This was the final piece of Malfoy's plan; after this, it was up to the group to infiltrate further. He had arranged to leave Goyle's bedroom window unlocked and unwarded, on the grounds that Goyle wouldn't notice. "Wouldn't notice the window being unlocked or a group of eight people coming in?" Hermione had asked, and Malfoy had rolled his eyes and said, "Both."
The team lined up under the window. "Ready?" Angel asked Harry, who had insisted on being the first one in.
"Go," Harry said. Together, Angel and Spike hefted Harry over the windowsill. There were two brief flashes of light from the window and then Harry reappeared. "Ready," he said.
Lifting the group into Goyle's room was surprisingly efficient, if somewhat awkward. One by one, Angel and Spike tossed the wizards, Wesley, and Illyria into the air. Hermione, third up, scrabbled frantically at the windowsill and then hung there for a terrifying moment until Harry and Ginny could hoist her up and in.
"I forgot you don't like heights," Ginny said under her breath, holding her lit wand up so Harry could see as he guided Wesley in.
"It's not the height," Hermione said. "It's the fall."
Behind her, Goyle snored peacefully.
Remus, last up, dropped ropes for Angel and Spike. Once the eight of them were packed into Goyle's narrow room, Lupin drew himself up, going into battle mode. "Everyone remember the plan?" he asked, eyes ticking over the group.
There were a series of nods from around the room. Hermione patted her hip to make sure the flask she was carrying hadn't been lost and reviewed the plan.
The greatest issue facing them was that they couldn't kill Voldemort without killing Nagini first, and Voldemort was fiercely protective of his snake – and would be triply so now, with the Order team known to be on the offensive and Nagini possibly the last obstacle preventing his permanent death. The snake stayed with Voldemort when he was in his throne room and traveled with him when he retired to his chambers – not to sleep; one of the most inhuman things about Voldemort was that he never slept – to scheme in privacy.
There had been some debate the previous night about the best way to catch Nagini. Simply intercepting the snake on its own and killing it wasn't an option. Harry favored a typically straightforward Gryffindor solution: march in to Castle Yfelwulf, kill the snake and then kill Voldemort. Angel had suggested waiting for Voldemort in his chambers and then killing the snake and him. Spike outlined a Rube Goldbergian solution involving a series of pulleys and a greyhound collar – "it's got a separate loop, see, to attach the rope to, so the snake can't get away" – that they would then use to lynch Nagini, but from the glitter in his eyes, Hermione suspected he was merely amusing himself.
Wesley had been the primary architect of their final plan. Malfoy had told them that Voldemort had a squad of nine Nagini handlers, mid-level Death Eaters who were tasked with attending to Nagini's every need – food mostly, with the occasional rubdown with baby oil. The idea was, then, to intercept members of the Nagini squad and use Polyjuice to impersonate them, letting the team get close enough to Nagini to poison her. In the best case scenario, Voldemort was either in his quarters or would take Nagini and flee to his rooms, allowing them to fight him without having to wade through masses of Death Eaters. The worst case scenario was – Hermione shied away from that thought; it involved a close personal relationship with Nagini.
"All right," Remus said. "We've come too far for me to start lying now. This is the most dangerous thing we have ever done as an Order, and if we can do it right, it will be the most dangerous thing we ever will do as an Order. We may not all make it out of here. If one of us is injured, or detained, or even killed – we can't go back. Even if it's me. Try to stick to the plan, and if that's not possible –" He nodded once. "Do what you must to make sure our task is completed. All may yet be very well. Harry? Are you ready?"
"Let's go," Harry said. He reached under his shirt, shook out the Invisibility Cloak, swirled it around himself and vanished in a flutter of shimmery gray cloth.
"Nox!" Ginny said, flicking her wand, and the team were plunged into darkness. Hermione held her breath as the door to the hall creaked open just wide enough to admit a skinny young man. After a moment, Harry whispered, "All clear."
"Wait," Wesley said. Hermione heard a rustling sound as he pawed through the morass of discarded clothing coating Goyle's floor, and in the dim light of the open door she saw him hold up a shapeless wad of material. "These may serve as a disguise until we can use the Polyjuice."
After some hissed negotiations – Goyle's robes smelled of offal, blood and body odor, and no one really wanted to put them on – it was arranged that the wizards, save Harry, would go without robes, but the Wolfram & Hart team would be robed. As Angel pointed out, if anyone stopped them it made Hermione, Ginny and Lupin look like captives being escorted to the dungeons. Depending on which Death Eaters they met, they had about a fifty percent chance of escape. Finally they assembled and slipped out the door.
"Go, Harry," Lupin muttered.
This bit had been Ginny's idea. She had pointed out that as a group, they weren't exactly inconspicuous, and if they wanted to be sneaky, they might as well sneak. Hermione suspected she'd also suggested it as a way to give Harry a more important role. Scouting duty was the kind of tossing one's self in the face of danger role that Harry thrived on.
Hermione fought the urge to twist her hands together; the adrenaline was starting to hit. The rest of the group were attempting to wait nonchalantly but seemed tense as well.
"All clear," Harry whispered from somewhere off to Hermione's left, and the team set off around the corner.
Angel and Spike were alert, watching the doorways they passed, while Wesley warily craned his neck to watch behind them. Ginny kept to the middle of the group, holding her wand discreetly at her side. Only Illyria and Lupin appeared unaffected, Illyria looking haughtily bored under the hood and Remus maintaining his usual pre-battle calm.
Progress around the lower floor was cautious, and for Hermione, nerve-wracking. Despite their cover, at every turn they paused, waiting for Harry to creep ahead in a rustle of silk and whisper what he saw. Mostly, he reported empty halls – Voldemort kept fewer guards on duty inside the keep after dark. It also helped, thought Hermione, that the Death Eaters here at Castle Yfelwulf were sloppy and complacent, never having faced a serious assault on the castle before. Even knowing that the Order team were on the offensive and would eventually come after him, Voldemort was so sure of his superiority that he didn't bother to increase security at his lair.
That, or Voldemort knows something we don't, Hermione thought, and then corrected herself. No, Voldemort definitely knows something we don't. The question is, what is it?
By common consent, the team modified the plan so that their first stop was the castle laundry room. The smell coming off Goyle's robes was eye-searingly appalling, a rotten stench that would have offended even Voldemort's sense of smell. Spike had complained, sotto voce, about the repugnant odor.
"You're a vampire. You don't breathe," Ginny had hissed.
"Doesn't mean I can't smell," Spike had shot back, and then Remus had silenced the conversation with a raised eyebrow and a glance.
As they sneaked through the corridors of Castle Yfelwulf, they ran into only one guard, leaned against a wall in the plush foyer outside Voldemort's great hall. Harry, moving ahead of the group, dropped him with a Stunner as he looked toward the group, his mouth opening on the beginning of a shout. Together, Remus and Angel stuffed the guard into the coat closet and Hermione sealed the door with a quick "Colloportus!"
They moved on, passing the former chapel, following the corridor as it twisted around a washroom that seemed to have been dropped in after the invention of plumbing from how awkwardly it jutted into the hall. As they passed the castle's main staircase, wrapped around the inside of one of the towers, they heard footsteps and skittered past before they could be seen.
Judging by what she knew of the map, Hermione thought they had walked all the way across the castle before Lupin stopped at a nondescript wooden door. "In here," he said.
They loitered nervously outside the door, trying to look unconcerned, while Harry checked the laundry for Death Eaters. "Clear," he reported. "But dark."
The castle laundry was another large, featureless room. In the glare of Ginny's lit wand, Hermione saw several large wooden tubs and a long table with a few stacks of folded clothing at one end. Dirty robes spilled out of a basket and clean ones hung on a rack. Hermione eyed the robe handed to her mistrustfully but shrugged into it along with everyone else. While she was wearing the robe in pursuit of Voldemort's defeat, it was still a Death Eater robe, and she felt faintly queasy wearing it.
"Upstairs," Lupin said, gesturing at the door.
Cloaked in their new robes, the team moved through the halls with more assurance, Harry coasting along beside them, still under the Invisibility Cloak in case they needed an element of surprise. Lupin led them up the curving staircase and into the warren of rooms on the first floor.
Somewhere around the seventh or eighth bend in the corridor, Hermione decided that Yfelwulf hadn't been so much built as grown, given the haphazard placement of rooms. Is it a form of security through obscurity? she wondered. Make the floor plan so confusing that only people who belong here know where to go . . .
Remus sailed through the corridors, though, as if he had lived at the castle for years. Following him, Hermione tried to look confident and as if she belonged, but she kept stumbling over the hem of her overlarge robes and spoiling the illusion. The team trotted along behind him like a gaggle of ducklings, not having Lupin's facility with a map. Hermione wondered if Death Eaters usually traveled in packs around the castle.
Finally, Lupin stopped and gestured at a partially open door. From inside, an aggrieved male voice floated out.
"– and then he said the scales on Nagini's belly were dry and used the bloody Cruciatus on me! Sure if I hadn't rubbed that damned snake down three times yesterday and everything. It's a snake! Of course its bloody scales will be dry."
"It's not natural, a thing like that," said another voice, this one lower and more thoughtful. "I swear when it looks at me I hear it thinking: Dinner."
The Death Eaters continued grousing about tending Nagini as Lupin, with an efficient series of hand gestures, directed the team's attack. He counted down – three, two, one – and Ginny, Harry and Hermione boiled through the door of the sitting room.
These Death Eaters were either better, or simply more paranoid, and they had wands out and curses flying as soon as the team cleared the door. In such a small space, they weren't dumb enough to try a Killing Curse lest they hit one of their own, but Hermione had to duck a Reductor Curse that would have taken her head off, putting her out of the fight in a nasty and permanent way. Expelliarmus! she thought, flicking her wand at the Death Eater who had fired the curse, a jowly man with beetly eyebrows. His wand popped out of his hand, but he almost immediately caught it in his other hand. She spared a moment to be impressed by the man's reflexes and then had to fling herself aside as he shot three curses at her in rapid succession. Off-balance, she crashed into an end table and lost a second righting herself.
He thought he had her then; she could see it in his eyes as he leveled his wand at her. He was going to kill her and enjoy it, and she simply charged him. For just a second, it surprised him, and Hermione used the moment to her advantage. "Confundo!" she snapped.
The Death Eater's face went blank as he forgot why he was standing there with a wand in his hand, and she went for the kill: "Stupefy!" He toppled backwards, knocking his head on a coffee table as he fell. Hermione hoped he woke up with a horrible headache.
She turned, ready to aid Ginny or Harry if they needed it, but Harry already had his Death Eater down and was moving to help Ginny. Ginny jabbed her wand at her Death Eater, and much to Hermione's amusement, a cloud of flying bogies surrounded him. A disgusted and horrified look spread across his face, and before he could retaliate, Ginny, Hermione and Harry all yelled, "Stupefy!" The last Death Eater was blown off his feet, slamming into the rear wall and then slumping over a sofa.
"They were prepared for us." Ginny frowned. "He kept moving to my bad side."
Hermione sighed, caught between dull expectation and nervous surprise. She was almost relieved to have finally faced some resistance from the Death Eaters; the longer they went unchallenged, the worse it would be when they finally faced Voldemort's forces. That the resistance should have come from Nagini's team, however –
"What are the odds," Wesley said, following Lupin, Angel, Spike and Illyria into the sitting room and closing the door behind himself, "that Nagini's handlers would have been briefed that we were coming?"
Lupin held up a hand for silence, glancing at Hermione. She twirled her wand three times, watching as the walls sheened violet. Of course the room was bugged. "Would you like some tea?" she asked, glancing over at Ginny.
"Of course. And you?"
"Three sugars, no cream." It was their code for the tightest wards they could cast, with an added Muffliato to confuse anyone who might still be listening. Hermione knew they wouldn't have long – if anyone was actually paying attention to the Eavesdropping Charm, they would have heard the sounds of a battle followed by hushed whispering. Any Death Eater with half a brain cell would conclude that the Order team had holed up in the sitting room and were easy to capture, and the worst part was, it was true.
"Malfoy wasn't even there when we planned this," Ginny said, aggrieved. "Nobody knew we were going after the handlers."
"Perhaps the flat was bugged?" Wesley suggested. "Perhaps young Mr. Malfoy left a device, perhaps a totem, behind him?"
Lupin considered. "It's certainly possible. But I trust Draco – as much as anyone in his position can be trusted. It wasn't in his best interest to foil our plans. His long-term odds of survival are better with the Order."
Harry scoffed.
"I know how you feel about Mr. Malfoy," Lupin said mildly.
Hermione grimaced, remembering the scene Harry had made last night when he realized Malfoy was their informant. If it weren't for the fact that the flat was soundproofed, people across the city would have heard his opinions on the matter. Harry had no reason to trust Malfoy, especially after the events of sixth year. Hermione wasn't fond of him either, but had been willing to extend him a little faith after he had saved their lives back in Bath.
Remus continued, "He wasn't my first choice for an Order operative. We haven't been exactly spoiled for choice, however, so I took him on. We needed someone inside the Death Eaters. He's been useful and about as loyal as he can be, all things considered. I've tested him off and on, fed him things to see how much made it back to Voldemort."
"How much?" Hermione asked.
"About a third." Remus shrugged. "It's always been an acceptable risk."
"Two to one odds he didn't talk," said Angel. "So if he didn't talk, then who did?"
There was a grave silence around the room. No one, thought Hermione, wanted to be the one to actually say it, to accuse, even indirectly, someone in the room of betraying the team to Voldemort. "It could be educated guesswork," she said. "Malfoy may not have known the specifics of the plan, but he knew we were coming tonight and we were coming after Nagini – we asked him a lot of questions about Nagini and Remus told him we were coming tonight. He knows the team, if Voldemort doesn't already. That's enough information that if he took that to Voldemort, Voldemort could have figured out the rest."
"We have to assume that the plan is compromised," Wesley said. "At this point, I don't believe we have the time to debate how or when we were compromised. What's important is surviving long enough to destroy Nagini and kill Voldemort."
"We should just storm the Great Hall," said Angel. "We've been made. There's no point in pretending that they don't know we're here, so we should just forget the Polyjuice Potion and go."
"The Polyjuice might confuse them, at least," Wesley said.
Hermione frowned. "We spoke before the wards went up. They know we're in here and we won the fight. It'd be more suspicious if suddenly Nagini's handlers show up. I agree with Angel: I think we have to abandon the Polyjuice."
"Should we stay robed?" Ginny flapped a sleeve of her robe. "It's worked so far. Maybe if Voldemort thinks we're just random Death Eaters he won't kill us as soon as we clear the doors."
Scratching his head, Spike said, "Or he might just shoot us for giggles. I mean, eight Death Eaters bursting in all at once, it's a bit conspicuous, isn't it? Now it's true your Voldemort is thicker than Peaches here, but he should be able to figure even that much out. I'd certainly shoot anyone who walked through the doors and ask them questions later. Amazing, the things that can be done with necromancy these days."
"So what would convince Voldemort not to kill us?" Hermione grabbed a chunk of hair and started twirling it as she thought.
"I can think of something." Lupin looked up from the floor and locked eyes with Harry, who nodded.
"You're suggesting we give him Harry as bait?" Ginny spluttered. "And that's going to keep Voldemort from killing us all? Oh, right, that's an excellent plan. Because it's not like Voldemort hasn't been trying to kill Harry his entire life or anything."
"He won't try to kill me right off," Harry said, and Hermione had to look away from the bleak Gryffindor Hero look on his face. "He never has. He likes to . . . play with me first. We'll have a few minutes while he gloats."
"I'm not proposing we give him only Harry," Remus said calmly.
"You as well?" asked Wesley.
"I think it'd have to be all of us – well, us wizards and witches at least. We've been spotted working together as a team recently, and Voldemort has reasons to find us all tempting targets." Lupin put a hand to his chest. "Leader of the Order of the Phoenix." He gestured to Ginny. "Blood traitor." Laying a hand on Hermione's shoulder, he said, "Muggleborn. All of us are close to Harry, as well, and we've repeatedly thumbed our noses at Voldemort. Capturing us might be enough of a coup to keep us alive for the novelty value."
"Do you seriously think that will work?" Ginny crossed her arms over her chest.
"I do."
"Whether you think it will work or not may be immaterial," said Wesley. "The longer we stay here – well, the words 'fish' and 'barrel' come to mind. We need to go."
After a few minutes more of hurried whispering to finalize the plan, the lined up at the door and barreled through, hoping speed and surprise might carry them. Much to Hermione's confusion and anxiety, though, they met no Death Eaters on their trip back down the stairs. Ginny, pacing along in front of Illyria, was less surprised. "Such a drama queen," she muttered. "It doesn't make a scene if we fight in the hall, so he's waiting for us to go to him. Because that's more dramatic."
"How," Spike said, sounding bemused under the hood, "has he managed to survive this long and come this far when he is so bloody awful at being an evil overlord?"
"Being unkillable helps," Lupin said. "Quiet."
They paused before the massive dark wooden doors of the Great Hall, listening for any indication of what awaited them within. Hermione held her breath, as if that would increase the acuity of her hearing, but either the Death Eaters were very good at being quiet or Voldemort had the room warded.
Spike raised a hand and knocked on the door three times.
"Who's there?" a voice – not Voldemort – asked through the door.
"Adderley, sir, and the rest of the patrol team," said Spike. "And we've got some of the Order members. Found 'em trying to sneak in. We thought the Dark Lord might be interested."
After a long moment, the doors opened – and then hands shot out and roughly grabbed Hermione, hauling her forward, seizing her wand and tugging at her. "Remus!" she yelped, not entirely for effect, and then recoiled as one of the Death Eaters holding her slapped her.
At the same time, Death Eaters were swarming the rest of the team – including, Hermione noticed regretfully, the four hooded members of the Wolfram & Hart team. Abandoning the plan, she writhed back and forward, trying to break free, but more Death Eaters grabbed her, holding her in a painful grip.
Around her, the rest of the team fought with their Death Eaters. Ginny was kicking the Death Eaters holding her and seemed inclined to bite, while Harry and Remus were subdued quickly by dint of being nearly encased in ropes. A brief fistfight erupted as Angel and Spike tore their way free of the Death Eaters around them, but before long they, too, were bound with ropes.
"Bring them here," said a high, thin voice: Lord Voldemort. Suppressed glee bubbled in his voice, turned his usual cold pitches warm. Hermione's group of Death Eaters dragged her forward, pushing her down until she knelt before Voldemort. She took a moment to look around the high-ceilinged room and though she had been expecting a scene much like this, her mouth went dry again at what she saw: Voldemort, Nagini by his side, luxuriated on his throne on the dais at the front of the room. The usual tables and chairs one might expect to see in a hall had been removed, leaving more room for a pack of Death Eaters to crowd the room. His favorite Death Eaters – the Carrows, the Lestranges, Fenrir Greyback – stood beside him, their faces reflecting malicious satisfaction and anticipation. All told, they were surrounded by easily forty Death Eaters. Five to one odds, thought Hermione. Not the best, but better than we were expecting. Of course, the odds meant nothing when half the team were wrapped from shoulders to ankles in thick ropes. Another thought struck her: it was past midnight, but all of Voldemort's best Death Eaters were assembled here, and they didn't look as if they'd been dragged from their beds recently. How long have they been here waiting on us?
Voldemort cackled and rose to his feet, clearly enjoying his triumph over them. The Death Eaters parted before him as he stepped down from the dais, gliding across the room to stand in front of the captured Order members. "Did you really think you could surprise Lord Voldemort?" he said. "I knew you were here – knew you were here the moment you arrived. Yes, I have known everything you've done – everything, all along!
"Oh yes," Voldemort said happily, pacing back and forth before them, "I knew about your plans to destroy me. How could I not know? So obvious . . . I admit I was hoping for something with a little more cleverness. But you have been following my plans the entire way!"
Voldemort was almost cooing in his glee. "Yes, yes. You wondered why it was so simple, did you not? You wondered why I did not act to stop you . . . why I did not send my Death Eaters to kill you. You did not meet my Death Eaters in Monkton Farleigh because I allowed you to take my Horcrux! Did you think it was your own cleverness that allowed you to survive? No! It was mercy . . . the mercy of Lord Voldemort . . ."
"Are you getting to a point anytime soon?" Ginny demanded. "Because my knees are starting to hurt."
Voldemort flicked his wand and a cut opened across Ginny's forehead. "Do not interrupt! I am in charge here . . . I am in control here . . . I have been controlling you all along! At any time I could have stopped you, but instead I allowed you to proceed . . . allowed you to be here tonight . . . so you would bring me Potter."
"Yes, ickle wee Potter," breathed Bellatrix Lestrange.
"Hush, Bella," said Voldemort mildly. He stopped in front of Harry, gazing down triumphantly as Harry flopped and struggled against the ropes binding him. "How does it feel to know you've failed, werewolf? All these years protecting young Potter, keeping him from me so I couldn't kill him – and in the end you bring him to me! So much easier than trying to track him myself . . . I learned that years ago . . . Give him the right bait and he will move heaven and earth to deliver himself to me!"
The Death Eaters laughed appreciatively.
"I don't believe that," Spike said over the din.
"Don't believe what, half-breed?"
"You planned this?" scoffed Spike. "You couldn't plan a Girl Scout bake sale. Typical wannabe behavior. Taking credit for everything."
"Do you want to know how I knew what you were doing?" Voldemort asked, grinning. He leveled his wand at Spike. "Ask me how I knew what you were doing, half-breed, and perhaps I will let you live . . . for my amusement . . . yes . . ."
"I've got a better idea. How about I ask you to go f–"
Flames roared from the tip of Voldemort's wand, coming close enough to graze Spike's chin. Spike recoiled and said, in a tone of great boredom, "How did you know what we were doing."
"Ahh." Voldemort tapped his fingers together and paced away from Spike, seemingly for effect. Then, turning back to the group, he said gleefully, "Why don't I let Illyria tell you that?"
Hermione's eyes widened.
Wesley said, "Illyria?"
The Death Eaters who had been holding Illyria let it go, and supremely disdainful, it rose to its feet, moving to stand beside Voldemort.
"Go on," purred Voldemort. "Tell them."
Giving Wesley a chilly and haughty look, Illyria said, "We came here to fight the Dark Lord. But I wanted to know why, why we must move to combat him when I was greater and more terrible than ever he dreamed of being. You could not tell me, so I sought to understand – I sought him out."
"I knew it," Angel muttered.
"You had told me to expect a child playing with the toys of the gods. But he is more – more than that. He is powerful, and when you are dead, he will be even more powerful. And he will make me powerful again."
"Illyria," repeated Wesley, blankly.
Illyria turned away. "This world was mine once. And it will be mine again. I do not need to learn to abide – I will conquer."
Voldemort crouched in front of Harry. "Do you see, little Potter? This is the power you know not. With Illyria, I have power over life and death . . . I have power over your life and your death. What do you have? The mercy of Lord Voldemort . . . that is all you have now. Go on, Potter . . . beg . . . beg for mercy . . ."
Harry remained silent.
"Ah." Voldemort laughed. "Too proud to beg. Not like your fool Muggle mother, Harry . . . she pleaded with me for your life. And do you know . . ." Voldemort tapped his fingers together and looked immensely pleased with himself. "I'm going to give it to you. Put them in the dungeons." He raised a hand. Hermione's wand, which had fallen to the ground in front of her, went soaring into his hand, along with Remus's, Ginny's and Harry's wands.
The Death Eaters holding Hermione hauled her to her feet again. She struggled, trying to pull away, and got a Body-Bind for her trouble. As two Death Eaters carried her out – MacNair and someone else she didn't recognize – she heard Ginny howling in outrage behind her and a voice yell, "Petrificus Totalis!"
The trip down to the dungeons was much quicker than their journey into the castle, if a bit harder on the spine. For the most part, the Death Eaters handled Hermione as if she were a piece of furniture, banging her into walls as they turned and unceremoniously dumping her on the floor in the middle of her cell. Once she was locked in, MacNair lifted the Body-Bind.
The other Death Eater leered at her. "If you decide you want out, I might feel kindly toward you, if you know what I mean," he said.
Hermione rubbed her wrists and gave him a dirty look.
The Death Eater simply chuckled. "Couple days, we'll see how you feel."
Freed, Hermione looked around. The Castle Yfelwulf dungeons appeared to be hewn out of the bedrock under the castle. They smelled dank and musty and faintly, Hermione thought, of blood. Certainly they weren't where she wanted to spend the rest of her life.
As she tried to stretch her stiff limbs, one by one, the rest of the team were dumped into cells around her and untied or unfrozen. Ginny started spitting profanity as soon as she was freed, the depth and breadth of which made Spike raise an eyebrow. With a last few chuckles, the Death Eaters departed, leaving them alone in their separate cells.
"Well," Spike said after a moment. "Anyone got any ideas for getting out of here?"
Ignoring him, Angel said darkly, "Something's not right."
"Illyria?" asked Remus.
"Illyria," said Wesley. "That wasn't like her at all. All that talk about becoming powerful again – she's accepted that her time of dominance in this world is over, and furthermore, she knows Voldemort hasn't the power to return her to her throne."
"She's running a con," Angel said, inspecting the bars of his cell and tugging gently on them.
Wesley nodded. "I believe she must be."
"But what's her purpose for conning Voldemort – or us?" Hermione asked, trying to work a kink out of her neck. "It doesn't seem to have done much good."
"We're not dead," said Harry. "He didn't even try to kill us. Maybe that was the deal Illyria made."
"Or he could have spared us because he'll get more enjoyment out of killing us later," Hermione said.
"Or it could just be that he's fantastically bad at this evil overlord thing – getting back to my original point, does anyone have any ideas for getting us out of here?" Spike said, looking irritated.
In the cell next to Hermione, Remus smiled slightly. "I believe it's time for Plan B."
"And Plan B is?"
Remus leaned against the stone wall of his cell, apparently attempting to make himself as comfortable as he could. "We wait."
"We wait?" Harry asked. "That's your plan? We're locked in Voldemort's dungeon, he's going to kill us, and your answer is let's just sit here and wait for him?"
"Patience, Harry," said Remus. "I don't think we'll be in here long."
"Oh, yeah, great. That's like saying 'don't worry, you only suffer horribly for a few seconds when he kills you.' Let's get out of here!" Harry rattled his cell door.
With that, Harry started yanking on the bars of his cell in earnest. Ginny, in the cell next to him, began to push on the other side. Angel and Spike both put on their best circus strongman act, trying to bend the bars of their cage doors in various directions. Hermione, who knew full well she wasn't strong enough to bend an iron bar, followed Remus's lead, trying to get comfortable against the cold, rough stone.
"I have to admit," she muttered to Remus, "in all the time I spent imagining how this would go, this wasn't a possibility I considered."
"All may yet be very well," he said, echoing his words from earlier, and smiled at her.
She tried to smile back, but it felt more like a grimace. It was easy for him to be calm about being stuck in a cell in Voldemort's basement. He was already prepared to die. He'd said as much the night before.
And about the night before . . . Hermione winced, feeling suddenly awkward sitting next to Remus. There was still so much left unsaid between the two of them. If they lived, she knew eventually they were going to have to have a real conversation about what he'd said and why he'd said it and what they planned to do about it, but last night really hadn't seemed like the time.
"What are you thinking?" he asked quietly.
"I keep telling you that's my question." At Lupin's patient expression, she said, "When this is over, we need to talk."
"Ah." His expression didn't change, but he carefully worked a hand through the bars between their cages. She took it and then focused all her efforts on thinking about anything else.
Time passed. Hermione wasn't sure how long - it was the usual uncertainty about time when underground. She was deep in cogitation, trying to figure out a better way out of the dungeon – her best plan involved suddenly mastering wandless magic and blasting her way out – and so she almost missed it when a rat came skittering into the dungeon at high speed and stopped in front of Remus's cell, sniffing the air nervously.
A rat with a silver paw.
"Ah," said Lupin, dropping Hermione's hand and rising to his feet. "You come most carefully upon your hour."
The rat stood up on its hind legs and in a blink, was Peter Pettigrew, cringing in his Death Eater robes, wringing his hands together. Wesley raised an eyebrow, while Harry and Ginny's faces immediately filled with scorn. Hermione couldn't say she was terribly fond of Pettigrew either.
"I shouldn't even be here," gabbled Pettigrew, "I shouldn't have come, he's going to know I helped you, he's going to kill me –"
"You should have thought about that before you decided to join him."
"I didn't have a choice, Remus! You have no idea what it's been like –"
"We need out, Peter. We need disguises and our wands." Lupin stared impassively down at Pettigrew, who winced. "You owe Harry a life debt. It's time to repay it."
Pettigrew's mouth worked, but no sound came out. Hermione suspected all that would come out would be a series of high-pitched squeaks. Pettigrew was a rat in more ways than the obvious.
"Or have you forgotten?"
Nearly in tears, Pettigrew flinched at that. "No – but Remus! Have pity, Remus! What you're asking me to do . . . he'll kill me! We were friends, Remus. Surely you wouldn't send a friend to his death . . . you wouldn't, would you?"
"I was ready to kill you ten years ago," Lupin said coolly. "Harry was the one that saved you then. You might see how he feels about that now."
Pettigrew turned. "Harry – you wouldn't – you can't –"
"Get us out of here, Wormtail," said Harry. "Prove you're good for something after all."
As if Harry's words magically compelled him to obey, Pettigrew stopped protesting and did so. Anguish on his face, Pettigrew dropped back into his rat form and vanished, only to return perhaps ten or fifteen minutes later as a human, tears streaming down his face, with a bunch of keys. "I couldn't get your wands," he said, hiccuping and sniffling as he unlocked their cells. "The Dark Lord has them."
Pettigrew moved down the rows of cells, freeing Hermione and the others one by one. Once they were all out, he looked at the seven of them standing in a circle around him and gulped. "That's it, right? I've repaid you, haven't I, Harry?"
"No." Lupin beat Harry to a reply. "I said we needed our wands. Take us to someone who can help us recover our wands."
"Harry didn't say –"
"Take us to someone who can help us recover our wands," Harry said, staring disgustedly at Pettigrew's pathetic sniveling. "And if you take us to Voldemort, or leave us and go to Voldemort yourself, you won't live long enough for him to kill you."
A miserable expression on his face, Pettigrew nodded. "I'll guide you," he said, and dropped back into rat form.
Lupin scooped him up. "Anything funny, Peter," he warned, and the rat squeaked, as much in indignation as in terror, Hermione thought.
In pairs, they climbed the steps leading out of the dungeon, trying to look unhurried and relaxed, as if they were simply on routine patrols of the castle. Lupin and Angel led the way, with Harry and Ginny following a respectable distance behind; Hermione, paired with Wesley, trailed them, while Spike brought up the rear.
They walked, mostly in silence, for several minutes. As before, they met only a few Death Eaters. Hermione greeted them by dipping her head each time – it looked like a gesture of respect and helped to keep her face hidden. She wasn't sure, but she thought Pettigrew might be leading them around the long way: up a flight of stairs twisting around the inside of a tower, along a long corridor with many doors, up another flight of stairs in another tower, through a hallway that bent six times, down a narrow stone staircase . . . Finally, Remus stopped before a plain wooden door in a short hall. Although Hermione was completely turned around from their trip through Castle Yfelwulf, she thought they might have wound up back on the ground floor by the laundry.
She knocked on the door, received a curt, "Come," and stepped through the doorway.
Inside the small room, the tension was nearly stifling. On one side of the room, Remus stood placidly, holding Pettigrew, who was squeaking constantly, while Harry and Ginny blazed with anger.
On the other side of the room, chill rage evident in his stiff posture, was Severus Snape.
As Wesley and Spike crammed into the small room, the rat Pettigrew wormed his way out of Remus's hand and fell to the floor, rising up again as the man. "I didn't want to bring them, Severus," he whined, "but they made me! I know what you said – I know you don't –"
"Silence," snapped Snape, in that same level voice that had held years of classrooms quiet.
"How is he supposed to help us?" spat Harry. "He's one of them! He's Voldemort's right-hand man! He – he murdered Dumbledore, and you bring us to him?"
Snape sneered. "Mr. Potter, it is good to know that your long imprisonment has not damaged your critical faculties in the slightest."
Angel looked back and forth from Lupin to Snape. "What – who – I don't get it. Who's he?"
Evenly, Lupin said, "This is Severus Snape. Potions master, former professor at Hogwarts . . . and spy for the Order of the Phoenix."
"Spy?" Harry exploded, sounding incredulous. "Him, a spy? Did you miss the part where he MURDERED ALBUS DUMBLEDORE? Did you miss the part where he BETRAYED US?"
"No, Harry, I haven't. But there was more to the events of that year than you knew. Severus has long been working to aid the Order from within the Death Eaters."
"Oh yeah? And a fat lot of good he's done us in all that time -"
Scornful, Snape said, "Potter, where do you think young Mr. Malfoy has been getting his information? Who do you think provided the maps that led you here?" He stared down his nose at Harry. "Whose plan do you think you're following?"Hermione refrained from pointing out that at least part of the plan was Wesley's, but as little as she liked it, she knew Snape was probably telling the truth.
As far as she had known, Snape had dropped out of sight and returned to the Dark Lord after the events of her sixth year at Hogwarts. But Remus vouched for him, which meant she supposed she had to trust him. Even back in the days when she'd been more active in running the Order - even during that brief period when she was running the Order - she'd known that Remus had assets about which he wasn't telling her. Snape must have been one of them.
"At any rate," Snape continued, switching focus to Lupin, "I am not sure what assistance you expect I can provide you. You understand I am constrained by my position here."
"We need our wands," said Lupin. "Peter, here, seems to think that you can get them for us."
"The Dark Lord has them. Do you really think there is any excuse I could give him that would convince him to release them to me?"
"Oh, I expect you could think of something." When Snape's lip curled, Lupin continued, "Voldemort's reign ends tonight, Severus. This is the last act you'll need to perform for the Order of the Phoenix. After this, your debt is lifted. So I ask you again: we need our wands. Please retrieve them for us."
Snape held his ground for a moment longer, then turned and departed the room in a swirl of black robes. Hermione heaved a sigh as the door snapped shut behind him.
"Do you really think he's going to help us?" Ginny demanded.
"I do."
Ginny bristled. Leaning on the edge of one of Snape's workbenches, Lupin said, "You might recall that I've known Severus far longer than you. If there's one thing that's consistent about him, it's that Severus always does what's best for Severus. Selling us out to Voldemort might benefit him in the short term, but it doesn't achieve his long term goal of seeing Voldemort defeated."
"Bit of a git, though, isn't he?" observed Spike, making Harry laugh darkly.
Remus smiled. "Severus has always been difficult -"
"Foul, you mean," Harry interjected.
"- but I have reason to trust him."
"So what now?" asked Angel. "What's our plan?"
Ginny wrinkled her nose. "Do we even have a plan at this point?"
"Yeah," Harry said. "Kill Voldemort."
Wesley said, "I think at this point all that's left to us is seeing Illyria's gambit through. Clearly, she has some idea in mind for defeating Voldemort, even if she hasn't shared with us what that is."
"I agree," said Lupin. "Once Severus returns with our wands, I believe we'll do best by simply confronting Voldemort directly and letting events play out. We'll have aid from Severus and Peter here -" Pettigrew cringed, looking as if he'd hoped Lupin had forgotten about him - "and perhaps others as well. We'll just have to face whatever Voldemort has waiting for us as best we can."
No one else had much to say after that. Ginny and Harry chatted quietly, heads together. Angel slipped into a deep brood, lurking in the far corner of Snape's room. Hermione felt like joining him; it was sinking in that very shortly, they would be battling Voldemort to the death - either his or theirs. If Snape had had a copy of Hogwarts, A History available, she would have lunged for it. Instead, in an effort to occupy her mind until Snape returned, she focused on trying to read the first chapter from memory.
Snape was gone long enough for Hermione to begin to worry that he wouldn't return, despite her efforts to distract herself. Eventually, though, the door snapped open and Snape strode in. "As I suspected," he announced, "the Dark Lord failed to see the need to bring prisoners their wands, despite my best persuasion." He paused, fixing Lupin with an icy look. "I have arranged, however, for them to be returned to you before you confront the Dark Lord."
"Thank you, Severus," said Lupin.
"You can make it up to me by getting out."
"I'm afraid," Lupin said, managing to sound regretful, "that since we'll be unarmed, we'll need you to come with us."
Eyes narrowed, Snape said, "You presume much."
Lupin remained silent, a patiently expectant look on his face.
Snape sighed. "Very well then."
"After you," Remus said genially.
Their trip through the halls this time was short and direct. Voldemort appeared to have been alerted to their escape by Snape's inquiry about their wands and had stationed the most junior Death Eaters in the halls as guards. Snape dispatched most of the guards they met, although Lupin dropped one with a wandless Stunning Spell, and Angel cold-cocked one guard who attempted to sneak up behind them. Within minutes, the nine of them were again assembled outside the great hall.
Remus gestured at the doors. "Go ahead."
Angel gave the heavy doors of Voldemort's great hall a sharp push, flinging them wide. Inside, the scene was much as it had been before, Voldemort seated on his throne, Illyria and Nagini beside him, and Death Eaters scattered in loose clumps throughout the room. Hermione tried to get a count as she burst through the doors. Her heart sped up as she counted - it looked like the more junior Death Eaters had been dispatched to serve as guards, leaving maybe thirty Death Eaters in the room. With Pettigrew and Snape, there were nine on the Order's side. Of course, four of them were unarmed, which did complicate things.
Snape stepped out in front of the group. Sketching a bow to Voldemort, he said, "As you ordered, my lord, here are the escaped prisoners." He paused. "Might I suggest locking them up more securely this time?"
Hermione froze. Beside her, Harry spat, "You -"
"Excellent work," Voldemort purred, rising from his throne. "You see, werewolf? Even when you think you are escaping me, you are still following my plan! Yes . . . There is just one last thing . . . A demonstration of what happens when you fail Lord Voldemort. I think it will be . . . instructive."
Pettigrew's silver hand dropped to the floor with a clunk as he exploded, spattering Hermione with blood. Hermione groaned and fought the urge to vomit. Ginny, beside her, muttered, "That is probably the second most disgusting thing I've ever seen."
Voldemort tapped his fingers together happily. Turning to Illyria, he said, "Kill them."
An excited, anticipatory murmur ran through the Death Eaters. On the dais, Illyria gave the Order group a frosty look.
Wesley mumbled, "Illyria," one last time, almost as a hopeless entreaty.
It turned to give Voldemort an equally cool glance, raised a hand dramatically -
- and then in a motion so fast Hermione took a few moments to realize what she was seeing, Illyria reached down, seized Nagini, and ripped the snake's head from its body.
"Nagini!" shrieked Voldemort.
At the same time, Draco Malfoy shouted, "Lupin! Catch!" The wands Voldemort had taken from the group went soaring over the Death Eaters' heads.
Hermione put up a hand and yelled, "Accio wand!" Her wand zoomed into her hand as the Death Eaters began to recover from their shock and surged toward her group. The last thing she saw before the fighting began was Illyria holding out Nagini's twitching body. Lupin called, "Avada Kedavra!" With a cracking sound, Voldemort's last Horcrux shattered.
After that, the chaos of battle consumed her. Three Death Eaters stampeded at her and everything else fell away as she fought. A curse flew by her ear - she fired off a barrage of Stunners - Voldemort was screaming, "I want Potter, leave me Potter!" - she twisted to avoid a curse and rammed into Ginny, knocking them both off-balance for a moment . . .
The fight went on. She managed to land a Confundus Charm on one of the Death Eaters fighting her, which distracted the other two for just long enough for her to drop one of them with a Somnus Charm and then finish off the first Death Eater, leaving one for her to fight. Through a break in the melee, she saw Harry squaring off against two Death Eaters, both of whom appeared to have been disarmed from the way they were trying to punch him. She ducked to avoid an actinic green hex and set the Death Eater's foot on fire. He conjured a spout of water, putting it out, and as he looked up at her triumphantly she socked him with a Stunner and twisted to face her next opponent.
It was Amycus Carrow, his sister Alecto beside him. Not them again, Hermione had time to think, and then they were on her, snapping off rapid-fire alternating curses as if they'd choreographed it. She backed away, trying to gain enough space to mount an offense, flinging up Shield Charms as they cast at her. The Carrows pursued her, grinning, and Hermione only realized they were driving her where they wanted her when she felt stone at her back.
Amycus laughed. "Not so clever now, are you, Mudblood?" He licked his lips. "No escaping this time."
Hermione, panting too hard to talk, gave up on the Shield Charms and pushed away from the wall, charging Amycus and firing any hex she could think of as she ran, but he easily deflected every one. With a grin on his face, he and Alecto pushed her back to the wall.
She tried to run a few more times, but each time she moved away, the Carrows repositioned themselves to block her. It was almost unthinkable: Hermione Granger wasn't just losing a fight, but losing spectacularly. Her throat was hoarse from repeatedly casting Protego and her wand arm was wearing out, but she kept fighting -
- until she heard a loud crunch and felt a flare of pain in her left arm. One of the Carrows had landed a Bone-Breaking Curse on her. Her cry of pain and Alecto's shout of triumph went up at the same time. This is it, she thought, resigned. They're going to kill me now . . .
"Reducto!" someone shouted, and Amycus's head simply vanished in a fine crimson mist. Both Hermione and Alecto turned to see who had cast the spell, and as they did Alecto met the same fate. As the Carrows' bodies dropped, she saw Snape standing behind them and raised her wand. "Not me, you silly girl!" he said sharply, and turned away to face another opponent.
The room seemed to be clearing - either that, or no one had noticed that Hermione was standing unchallenged momentarily. She cradled her broken arm while she surveyed the fight. Spike, Angel, and even Wesley were engaging in enthusiastic fistfights with individual Death Eaters. Harry and Ginny had teamed up against Lucius Malfoy, and as she watched, Lupin dropped Fenrir Greyback and calmly targeted another Death Eater.
Why isn't anyone using the Killing Curse? she wondered. Not even the Death Eaters. Then she looked toward the dais and had her answer - Illyria was holding a hand stretched out toward the fight, a fierce look of concentration on its face. Somehow, it was muffling the Death Eaters' ability to cast Avada Kedavra. As a further surprise, she saw Draco Malfoy dueling against MacNair, which at the moment seemed to entail being in a headlock and getting punched a lot.
Meanwhile, Voldemort watched from his throne, looking almost bored by the carnage. Harry had been right; Voldemort would only join the fracas when he knew he could toy with Harry specifically.
Hermione heard a cackle and half-turned to see the source of the sound - and then Bellatrix Lestrange, eyes wild, leapt at her.
This was not the combat of Stockbridge Main, where Lestrange had mostly been interested in amusing herself with Hermione. This time, Lestrange fought viciously, matching Hermione hex for hex, shield for shield. Through it all, as Hermione sweated and cast desperately, trying to land anything on her, Bellatrix had the same maniacal rictus grin on her face, clearly having the time of her life. Hermione backed up and bobbed left, then right, attempting anything that would let her penetrate Lestrange's defenses, but either she was too tired or Bellatrix was too inspired. Through it all, her arm throbbed and ground, wearing at her concentration.
"Now, Mudblood, the fun begins! Cruciatus!" Lestrange shrieked, and it surprised Hermione just enough that she missed the timing on her Shield Charm and sank to her knees, writhing in agony, as the Cruciatus Charm washed over her again.
A red fog descended over her eyes. The pain was as terrible as she remembered, a burning shooting stabbing grinding ache, like being doused in an acid bath or chopped to pieces or set on fire or - Hermione heard sobbing and realized she was screaming as Bellatrix held the curse on her.
She fought to hang onto consciousness this time, determined that she wasn't going to die curled in a fetal position in a pool of her own vomit. Thinking through the agony was a struggle, as the pain sucked and tore at her mind, and before long she could manage only one coherent thought: The bitch dies!
Abruptly, the torment went away, and when she could see again Hermione found herself staring at Bellatrix Lestrange's body, ragged at the neck where her head had been blown off. Oh God. I did that. I killed her. I didn't mean - Except, of course, that in her desperation she had: for the first time, she'd been beyond any options but murder.
From across the room, she heard a screech: "Bella! What have you done!"
Hermione fought her way up to her feet, trying to ready a cast, but the inside of her head still felt like it was lined with cotton. Rodolphus Lestrange was surging across the room toward her - she had just enough time to see the glint of a dagger in his hand - and then a horrible ripping ache tore through her as Rodolphus Lestrange sank the knife into her stomach and twisted it, slicing a deep gash across her abdomen.
Through her scream of shock and pain, she heard two other voices. One was Ginny, who shouted, "Stupefy!" Lestrange slumped to the ground. The other, surprisingly, was Harry, who yelled, "Hermione! No!"
Hermione had just enough time to look down, surprised at how little the blood showed on her black Death Eater robes, before she collapsed. She would have laughed if she'd been able. All this time, I was sure someone was going to die, she thought. I just never thought it would be me. So this is how the world ends.
Her vision was dimming out, going narrow. Then the back of her head said, in a tone of thought that felt a lot like Ron, So you're just giving up?
It was probably just an aberrant thought caused by her brain starving of oxygen, but it was right. No, she thought. It doesn't end like this. I won't let it. With the last of her strength, she pressed her wand to her stomach and muttered the First Aid Charm, feeling the wound seal shut with a sharp tingle. She lay still for a moment, feigning death, while she waited for a trickle of energy to return so she could splint her arm. That done, she slowly, excruciatingly, pulled herself back to her feet to rejoin the fight.
No Death Eater immediately moved to fight her, mostly because the few that were left were in combat with other Order members. The Order members that were still standing, however, were in nearly as bad a shape as she was. Wesley was down and not moving. Angel and Spike were bruised and bleeding and clearly weakening. Remus turned as he fought, revealing that one side of his face had been smashed in until it looked like hamburger meat. Ginny limped as she dueled with Dolohov; Harry's face was covered in blood and he was favoring his left arm.
How much longer can this go on? Hermione thought. Even with Snape and Malfoy on our side, we're nearly dead, and Voldemort hasn't even been touched yet. She wobbled on her feet.
With a cry of triumph, Mulciber downed Draco Malfoy and turned towards Hermione, wand raised. She would have groaned if she'd had time. She was utterly drained, with barely the energy for even the simplest spells. Determined to at least go down fighting, she raised her wand.
Mulciber cast something the color of liquid gold at her, and she avoided it by simply crumpling to her knees, not entirely on purpose. Now, though, she was down and had nowhere else to dodge, and from the triumphant look on Mulciber's face, he knew it.
She flicked her wand at him. "Expelliarmus!" From the way his wand went flying out of his hand, he hadn't been expecting her to try such a simple spell. The problem was that she wasn't sure she could manage a followup, and Mulciber was already shouting, "Accio wand!"
Lupin spun away from the last Death Eater he was fighting and reached a hand toward Mulciber. "Petrificus Totalus!" he called, and Mulciber froze and keeled over backwards. Remus refocused on his wand hand and snapped, "Somnus!" and a second Death Eater dropped.
Hermione fought to stay upright. Distress on his face, Remus hurried over to her and knelt beside her. "Are you all right?" he asked urgently.
She grimaced. "I'll live." At least, she was fairly sure she would. The First Aid Charm she had cast had stopped the bleeding and patched the skin, but it hadn't actually repaired the damage to her insides or replenished her lost blood. If they defeated Voldemort, she was looking at an overnight stay in the Hogwarts infirmary, if not longer.
Remus touched her cheek and then scrambled away again, slashing his wand at the Death Eater battling Ginny. Ropes shot out of his wand and encased the Death Eater from the elbows down. Ginny, in turn, shot a Stunner at the Death Eater battling Harry, and for the first time Harry was without an opponent.
As if that were the signal he had been waiting for, Voldemort rose from his throne. "Now, Potter," he cried. "Now we duel! Come to Lord Voldemort and face the death you have so far avoided!" With a swish of his wand, the dead, stunned or otherwise inert Death Eaters rose off the floor and obediently rearranged themselves along the edges of the great hall.
Harry's exhaustion was plain from the set of his shoulders. His hair was matted with sweat and the blood covering his face was still ghastly. But the Gryffindor Hero look burned resolutely on his face as he raised his wand and faced Voldemort. From the time he was an infant, Harry's life had been leading him here, and he was clearly determined to defeat Voldemort for the last time.
Voldemort mockingly saluted Harry, raising his wand to his brow, and then snapped his wand down in a wordless cast. Harry dove to his right to avoid the jet of fuchsia light, and the fight was on.
What Hermione would tell people later she remembered the most from the battle wasn't Harry's skill at fighting - he was mostly reduced to running and casting simple spells like the Disarming Charm - but the sheer grim tenacity with which he fought Voldemort. In terms of raw power, he was outmatched, particularly given how recently he had been freed from his imprisonment in Grimmauld Place, but he had a relentless courage that kept him in the fight despite his weariness.
Around and around Harry and Voldemort circled, each never quite gaining the advantage over the other. Harry would summon the energy for a cast - "Expelliarmus!" - and Voldemort would shield - "Protego!" Voldemort would cast - "Cruciatus!" and Harry would simply lunge to one side or another. To Hermione, watching in terror from the floor where she had fallen, it seemed they fought for hours. Angel said later that he thought it was more like ten minutes, and just to be contrary Spike said he thought it had been twenty.
All else in the room had stopped - through teamwork, Ginny, Lupin and Angel had dropped the three remaining Death Eaters. The others, Snape included, watched from the sides of the room, understanding that this fight was Voldemort and Harry's alone - prophecy becoming reality.
Back and forth, back and forth - Hermione only realized she was clenching her fists in her fright when she felt her nails digging into her skin. How long could Harry keep this up? Voldemort was clearly tiring of the game - he'd cast Avada Kedavra more than once, which Harry had managed to avoid through luck and good reflexes. Illyria either wasn't able to suppress the use of the Killing Curse now or simply wasn't trying, sensing the importance of the battle.
"Come on, Harry, come on," Hermione muttered. Voldemort was mortal now and would die like any man. If Harry could just land a death blow of any nature this would all be over - but she already knew Harry couldn't cast the Killing Curse, and he didn't seem to have the energy or concentration for some of the lethal uses of the more potent jinxes and hexes.
There had to be something she could do to help him. Wasn't that what she had spent her entire life since she met him doing, looking for ways to help him? Endless hours of research in the Hogwarts library, so many copied homework assignments she'd lost count, spectating at Quidditch games in the hope that her presence alone would keep him on his damn broom, spells cast and potions brewed and hexes learned, battles and the Order, two years spent buried in the magical libraries of England and Europe - she'd spent too much time loving him, sacrificing for him, trying to keep him alive for it to end here.
Her injured arm throbbed in its splint, aching deeply enough that she noticed it over the constant screaming agony of the damage to her abdomen. If the fight didn't end soon, Hermione thought, it was an open question of who would die first: herself, Harry or Voldemort. She knew enough about injuries to know that Rodolphus Lestrange had made a mess of her insides, one that might yet prove fatal -
That was it. That was how she could help Harry. Frantically, Hermione looked around herself for the dagger Lestrange had wielded, but it seemed to have been banished to the wall along with Lestrange's body. Oh, there wasn't time for this: she had to find the knife before Voldemort realized what she was doing. Squinting in concentration, she twisted delicately and pointed her wand toward the nearest heap of bodies. Accio Lestrange's dagger! she thought, swishing her wand.
For a moment, she thought the spell had failed, that she didn't have the power left to cast enough of a spell to tie her shoes, let alone summon the knife. Then the knife came rocketing out of a pile of corpses, nearly hitting her in the face before dropping to the ground. She waited until Voldemort's back was turned to seize the knife, clutching it close to her body - or as close as she could keep it without opening new wounds.
The blade was still sticky with her blood and smelled deeply unpleasant. Hermione held it, waiting for the right moment, waiting until she could catch Harry's attention without getting him killed through distraction. It seemed to take forever for him to get into position, but finally he moved to where he was facing her at about a forty-five degree angle, where he could see both her and Voldemort at the same time.
"Harry! Take this!" she cried, and flung the dagger across the floor to him. Without hesitation, he dove to the ground and seized it, rolling up to his feet as he glanced at what he'd picked up.
She saw the moment Harry realized what her plan was. The set of his shoulders changed and he charged at Voldemort like a mad bull, heedless of the spells Voldemort was still casting. Hermione held her breath - Voldemort, perplexed, paused in his casting for a critical moment, shouting, "What are you doing? What is this?" - Ginny cried, "Harry! Look out!" - and then Harry was pressed up against Voldemort in a parody of a hug, the knife protruding from Voldemort's back.
Voldemort screamed, a tortured, inhuman sound, as mortality came to claim him.
Harry yanked the knife out of Voldemort's back and let him go. The former Dark Lord fell to his knees, the scream becoming a gurgle as his lungs filled with blood.
His body was clearly failing him, but Voldemort still managed to raise his wand arm and point it at Harry. "Avada," he gurgled, "Ked -"
Harry kicked Voldemort in the chest, and the spell went wide as Voldemort collapsed backwards, body seeming to shrivel up as he died for the final time.
The Second Wizarding War was over.