Chapter 13 – Skirmish in the Ministry
Note: As always, a reminder:
Dick = Derek Malone
Tim = Tommy Malone
A HUGE thank you to Jenny for her amazing help in making this chapter better than it would have otherwise been. Also to my husband who gave me a suggestion that helped me get past a frustrating part. And another huge thank you to each of you for reading (and reviewing!) as you are my inspiration and motivation to keep going.
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They were following the same path out of the Ministry as they had entered from. Tim wasn't sure he really approved of that plan. He hadn't gotten the story behind Dick's little impromptu vanishing act earlier, but he'd left behind at least one adoring fan and several questioning officials and there was a good chance the whole lot of them were still there in the hall. It didn't seem prudent to head back through that mess unless there was no way to avoid it.
He gave a sharp tug on the fold of the invisibly cloak he had in hand, getting Hermione's attention. Obviously he couldn't see her, but he could feel the whisper of cloth settle over his fist as she stopped moving, creating slack in the fabric.
He turned to face Dick and let a bit of whine into his voice, "I wanna go a different way. We've already seen all this."
Dick's lips twitched in amusement, but he nodded gravely, "Yeah, it's always a bit boring to go where we've already been."
There was a pause and what sounded suspiciously like an exasperated huff from their invisible friend before the cloak started tugging him onward once again. And whether Hermione had figured out why they wanted to go a different route or she was just humoring him, she did turn off and start down a different corridor.
He wished he'd had the chance to go over the maps for this maze-like compound. Naturally he'd been memorizing everything they'd encountered, but having a mental layout already at hand would have made him more comfortable - and less dependent on their invisible guide.
By his calculation, they were nearly halfway back to the cavernous hall with the security booths when the screaming started. It was distant at first and they all slowed, Tim turning his head back and forth to try to hear what was happening. The screaming got noticeably louder within seconds, as if, like a wave of water, it was taken and pushed down the Ministry halls. People were poking their heads out of offices, and then the first words became clear.
Help! Invasion! Death Eaters! Attack! Help!
As if part of the wave of screaming, the people around them started shrieking, carrying the message past them and beyond, further into the Ministry. And, like a wave, the sound ebbed as the panic took hold and people began to run frantically in every direction, noisy and fearful, but without (as much) ear-piercing noise.
Tim exchanged a look with Dick, a momentary island of calm in the midst of the storm of frenzied people.
If these people were under attack, they needed to help. Unconsciously, Tim ran his free hand over where his belt sat tucked away beneath his oversized sweatshirt and black robe. The robes may have helped him look the part of a child-wizard, but it was going to make getting to his gear a pain in the neck. He'd have to ditch the robe soon if it looked like there was going to be a brawl.
Dick's hands twitched as he turned to fully face their invisible guide, "Hermione, I need you to promise to watch over Tommy." Dick's fingers flicked through the signs for 'protect, guard, civilian' as he continued to solemnly address the witch, "If you can get him out and back to the safe house, please do so."
Tim scowled briefly and, if Tim had been someone else, he might have been tempted to follow it up with a pout. Babysitting the civilian was never as satisfying at being proactive against the enemy, but he knew someone had to do it. As much as he would rather help Dick out against the Death Eaters, their priority would have to be Hermione's safety. For now, at least.
"What?" Hermione sounded more confused than upset, "I mean of course! I won't let anything happen to either of you."
Dick nodded and flicked a glance at Tim. He returned it with a barely perceptible nod. He'd get Hermione back to the safe house.
"Thanks Hermione, I know I can count on you."
He spun around and began loping off down the corridor in the direction from which the screaming was still echoed. The cloak in Tim's hands gave a jerk, but he held his ground, not following. Rather than stop, this time Hermione kept going and the invisibility cloak began to slip off, revealing the bottom third of her black robed form, "Wait! Where are you going?" She flung the rest of the cloak off and Tim let it go as she gathered it up in a messy bundle under one arm. A quick glance around them proved that no one was paying them the slightest attention."Stop!" Dick ignored her and she shot Tim an incredulous look as realization seemed to bloom across her face.
"Derek Malone!" Hermione nearly shrieked, "If you think I'm letting you go off after the Death Eaters on your own -" She bit off her own words, raising her wand. "What do you think you could do once you found them? They'll kill you!"
Dick was nearly to the first bend in the hallway, but he turned, jogging backwards, hands raised and a placating expression on his face. "It's fine, Hermione. I won't be seen, I'll just go take a look, make sure everyone is okay." His eyes locked on Tim's then glanced meaningfully at Hermione's wand.
"That's the stupidest thing I've ever - " Tim sidled up beside her and nodded at Dick who turned again and sprinted down the hall. "Wha-? Stop! Stupify!" Tim yanked her arm down mid-word and the spell dissipated harmlessly into the floor. Hermione jerked away from him. Or tried to as he stepped forward and kept his hand firmly wrapped around her wrist. "What are you doing?!"
"Derek can take care of himself." He calmly assured her.
"You – you - " At an apparent loss for words, she looked back at where Derek had been and saw that the man had vanished. Letting out a groan, she reached up and clutched a fistful of her own hair with her free hand as if she wanted to pull it in sheer frustration, "You don't understand! These people are murderers! They enjoy torturing people. And they hate muggles!" She was nearly vibrating with the force of her emotions and Tim wasn't sure whether to feel a bit badly for the stress they were causing her or just exasperated at her obtuseness. On one hand, she obviously was only trying to look out for them, but really, they were supposed to be gang members from Gotham, which should be a clue that they could dodge a bullet (or a spell) if they had to. It was getting to be a bit tiresome how little faith Hermione and her friends had in their self-preservation abilities. Perhaps they could arrange to 'be caught' in a sparring match? Or just flat out have one of them try to tag Dick with a spell. They'd probably revise their opinion of 'the helpless muggles' once they got a look at Dick's ability to defy gravity at will.
The whole purpose of being 'undercover' was to NOT BE who they actually were. They didn't want to encourage any hints of association with any of their 'real' identities – and that included Nightwing and Robin. It was a sign that their covers were intact that Hermione, Harry and Ron all acted like they would shatter at the first sign of magical conflict. But when that assumption started to interfere with getting the job done, it was time to start revising it.
"Hermione -" Tim bit his tongue and through sheer force of will, cut himself off, nearly giving himself a headache with the desire to correct her. Now was not the right time to address that issue.
An explosion reverberating from the direction Dick had headed shattering the glass in several of the office doors and Tim pushed aside those thoughts to focus on the present. Predictably, the screaming began again from all around them as people abandoned whatever they'd been doing to panic. "You need to put that cloak back on." Tim pointed out as he looked around, gauging the best location to defend his charge if the attackers came their way. The corridor curved to the left as it extended out before them with doors at uneven intervals. He hadn't seen any vents or convenient rafters anywhere which would have been his first choice. All of the offices he'd peeked in had only a single exit and he wasn't about to allow themselves to be cornered.
"Is there some way to go back to the entrance without taking the elevators?" Tim asked Hermione, distracting her from whatever nasty thoughts she might be having towards 'Derek Malone'.
"What?" She turned a blank look to him as she switched gears. Then a look of determination set over her, "We need to get you out of here. Here, wear this." She thrust the bundled invisibility cloak at him and Tim jerked back.
"No, Hermione, you need to wear that." When she took a step closer, shaking out the cloak as if to fling it over him, he added, "You're much more recognizable than I am. No one will pay any attention to me, but if they see you…" He trailed off and from the way Hermione's mouth twisted, he knew she'd gotten the picture.
While they'd been standing and talking none of the dozen witches and wizards rushing past them had spared so much as a second glance their direction. That didn't mean the situation would last and it certainly wouldn't if those Death Eaters were as interested in Harry Potter as they'd been told.
She frowned down at the cloak then pulled it on over her head, pausing before the front folds erased her presence and looking at him. "We might be able to share it."
Tim snorted, "It barely covers you!" He waved his hand, brushing aside the suggestion, "I'll be fine." He returned back to his previous question as the witch finally vanished again. "Is there another way out of here?"
"The floo network. The Death Eaters probably have both the lifts and the fireplaces under guard." Tim twitched as a cloth-covered hand wrapped itself around his wrist. Hermione probably didn't want to chance him wandering off. "We may need to hide until the aurors repel the attack."
Her tone of voice revealed her doubts about the success of that.
Lovely. His choices were a magical way out or a magical way out – either or both of which might be compromised – or finding a coat closet and waiting for the cavalry.
But, if he had to choose, he'd pick the elevators over traveling by fire, so that's where they'd start. "Let's head back to that main foyer where we came in. We might be able to sneak passed any guards they have up."
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Dick found the trail of dead and wounded before he found the Death Eaters. The first man, hair graying at the temples and bleeding gash across his stomach was conscious and clutching his wand, although his eyes were glassy and he didn't react when Dick moved into view.
The next woman was beyond help, eyes empty and face a grimace of surprise.
A third woman was crying, eyes dripping crimson tears, and shaking. A man, himself cradling an arm that appeared shattered was crooning to her, urging her to get up.
As much as it pained him, Dick stopped for none of these, the screaming ahead of him driving him on. If he stopped to help one, two more might die in their place. He needed to help stop the damage before it was inflicted and steeled himself to ignore those who cried out for help along the way.
He'd been forced to make this choice before. It never got easier.
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Harry was panting and nearly collided with Ron as he flung open the bedroom door
"What-?"
"At the Ministry!" Harry made to push past Ron, but the other teen grasped his shoulders, forcing Harry to stop and look at him, "Voldemort! He's attacking the Ministry of Magic!"
A pinched expression overtook Ron's face, but he kept his hands in place. "Are you sure? You got a vision?"
"Yes! I saw him calling the Death Eaters. They're going to attack the Ministry right now." He tried again to slide past his friend, eyes darting around him. Where was Hermione? "We have to do something!"
"Harry!" Ron gave his shoulders a little shake, "How do you know it's real? The last time you saw a vision about the Ministry..."
He didn't need to finish that statement and Harry felt something inside twist up into a painful knot. Something of that must have shown on his face as Ron grimaced and looked away. "We have to do something." Harry repeated voice softer but firm.
Ron finally let go of his shoulders, running a hand through his hair and letting it fall to his side, looking stressed and defeated, "You can't go."
Harry didn't respond, feeling that twisted knot in his gut tighten. He couldn't just – there was no way he could do nothing. All those people...so many people were going to die today and he was supposed to sit back, safe in his little hide-away and do nothing? His whole being revolted at the idea.
"Dad will be fine. Hermione will be fine." Ron continued as if to himself, completely de-railing Harry's train of thought.
"What?"
Ron's strained face turned back to him, "Dad's an Order member. He'll know what to do if Death Eaters show up. And Hermione's a powerful witch – she knows how to take care of herself. She's got your cloak. And she's probably out of the Ministry and on her way back here. She'll be gone before the Death Eaters ever get there."
"WHAT?!" The knot turned icy and Harry briefly wondered if he was going to throw up. Hermione was at the Ministry of Magic? Now that he thought about it, he did remember them talking about Hermione and the Malones going down to the Ministry to get Snape's address, but he hadn't realized they were heading out today. How long had he been asleep anyway? "We need to get her out of there. We need to go-"
"NO!" Ron's face was flushed and his eyes looked fevered in their determination, "Even if you're right and your vision is real, we can't just go storming into the Ministry. Every Death Eater in the place would immediately start coming after you if they knew you were there. We can't risk it."
Harry slumped, pressing a hand to his still burning scar. Ron looked positively wild, eyes darting to Harry and around the hall as if looking for someplace to settle and not finding it. Harry knew it couldn't be easy for his friend to tell him that they needed to stay put. Ron would normally be the first one out the door to rescue his family or Hermione if he thought they needed it. The fact that he wasn't doing that spoke louder than his words at how serious he was about Harry staying away from the Ministry of Magic. And he was right. Just as they couldn't try to fight the Death Eater raids and just as they couldn't try to invade Malfoy Manor, Harry was needed to win the war, not fight smaller battles. They couldn't risk it – not without proof that Hermione was in imminent danger, anyway.
"Fine." All the adrenaline seemed to drain out of him with that one word and he pressed the heel of his palms against his eyes, just breathing for a moment before straightening up. "Fine. But we can do something without leaving the house."
With that, he brushed past Ron and marched down to the sitting room. Then, taking a pinch of floo powder, he tossed it in the fireplace and called out, "Hogwarts, Headmaster's Office." If they couldn't go themselves, they could send the Order instead.
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Rabastan LeStrange laughed in exaltation, feeling the delicious sense of power course through his veins. The magic thrummed heavy and dark all around them, the scent of blood and fear coating the very air. Beside him, his brother blasted apart another wooden desk, exposing the cowering wizard beneath. Already speckled with blood from a hundred little splinters received as his shelter was forcibly removed, the man began to babble in terror. Rabastan ignored it as his brother stalked closer to his newest victim, confident that the man wouldn't even think to defend himself before it was too late.
Behind him the four new recruits from his team were methodically mopping up behind them, searching out every crevice and destroying everything in their path. It was tedious having to stick together as a group, but his Lord's orders were very clear. They were to stay together and flush out every witch and wizard they could find. Whether they fled or died, the Dark Lord didn't want anyone except his followers in the Ministry before evening.
They were in some sort of large cavernous room filled with neat little rows of desks. Hundreds of desks. The open layout suited him perfectly as it gave them a perfect view of those fleeing like rats before them. He'd taken down a dozen in the first few minutes, although the majority had managed to escape. It didn't bother him though. They'd find more the deeper into the Ministry they went.
He waded through the ocean of oak, barely glancing to the right or to the left, leaving his gaggle of recruits to make sure no else was cowering under their desk. He was across the room, near the passage that would lead to the next series of offices to clear when he glanced over his shoulder and did a double-take.
There was a man rushing out of a corridor across the large room. Unlike the other men he'd seen running today, this one wasn't running away from them, but charging directly at them.
He had a tight, form-fitting shirt on of no style Rabastan had ever seen before. Black and sleeve-less, it seemed almost rigid like clay rather than fabric, hugging the man's ribcage and showing off the impressive biceps. In one hand he gripped a truly hideous grey muggle sweatshirt and the other was a closed fist – no wand in sight.
Rabastan raised an eyebrow. Had the man been confounded? Or blinded and didn't know he was running right into a group of Death Eaters?
His lip curled up in contempt as one of his nameless recruits shot out the first spell - a stunner which missed. The second spell, one which would boil the victim's blood, followed nearly immediately behind, cast by another recruit with at least a modicum of accuracy as it found its target. Well, nearly found it. The dark haired man had shifted his sweatshirt into the path of that spell, intercepting the magic and dropping the fabric before it could be absorbed through the cloth and up to his hand.
Frowning, Rabastan cast his own spell, one of his favorite blasting curses and pursed his lips in displeasure as this spell too missed, the man twisting to the side to avoid the blue stream of magic.
Only a few seconds had passed since the man had entered the room, but already he was nearly half-way across it. The recruit nearest the charging man had not been one of the two casting spells at him, focused as he was on the witch twitching and whimpering at his feet, so when the punch came, he was completely unprepared. The force of it staggered him, but he didn't immediately drop despite what sounded like a broken jaw. A kick flashed out, landing directly in the center of the black robes and the Death Eater doubled over. Then the man jabbed an elbow to the back of the recruit's head and even from halfway across the room, Rabastan knew that that man wasn't getting up any time soon.
Rabastan realized his jaw was hanging open and snapped it shut. He'd been expecting some resistance (although pitiful little of it had materialized so far), but he'd been expecting sheets of spell-fire, not a crazy man attacking with fists and feet. It was idiotic – insane!
He wasn't the only one to have been shocked into stillness as for a moment each of his fellow Death Eaters stared in disbelief – and that delay cost them. A second recruit – the one with the more accurate spell-fire – was next closest and without even pausing to check that the first Death Eater was fully out of commission, the crazy man vaulted an untouched desk and launched himself feet-first at the next Death Eater.
The recruit immediately scrambled backwards, fumbling up a shield, but the fool miscalculated and the shield popped up behind the insane attacker. A black boot touched the ground only to leave it again and cleave upward to impact the Death Eater's jaw, breaking it just as surely as he'd broken the first one.
Taking half a step back, Rabastan found himself unaccountably dismayed as his second recruit fell. The stranger snagged the recruit's wand as the man slipped to the floor and Rabastan growled out a shield charm, expecting a barrage of rapid-fire spellwork. But the man simply snapped the wand in half and causally tossed the broken pieces aside.
His brother, Rodolphus spit out, "Avada Kedavra," evidently not in the mood to mess around with this guy, but this spell missed again as the man nimbly hopped aside.
For the first time, the man spoke, his voice cool and a bit amused, "You guys really need to gain some personally in your outfits. How do you tell each other apart when you're in groups?" Rodolphus called out another killing curse and Rabastan did the same while the man bent and twisted and weaved between them, all the while advancing on a third recruit. "Wouldn't it be awkward to slap you buddy on the back and congratulate him on his fantastic Death Eater-ing and then discover that it was totally the wrong guy?" As the crazy man spoke, he grabbed two thick wands that had apparently been strapped to the outside of his thighs, and again Rabastan raised a shield, only to find no spells sent his way. Instead the man just continued bounding toward his next target, holding his strange wands as if poised to lash out with them.
The recruit the stranger had picked to stalk next apparently decided to try something different since not a single spell so far had actually made it near the man. He levitated one of the desks and brought it swooping down, as if it were a giant baseball bat, but at the last second the man dropped bonelessly to the floor and the desk swept harmlessly overhead. He then popped back up as if his calves were made of springs.
The desk wavered in the air for a moment, then came back around, this time slamming into the floor as if it were a giant flyswatter, shattering on impact, but the man dove forward ahead of it, somersaulting back up to his feet. The recruit managed to get another spell out – a shield that was actually between him and the dark haired berserker, but the man simply leaped right over the Death Eater's head, coming down behind him and planting a fist in his kidney. With an agonized groan, the recruit retched, then received a follow-up jab to the throat with the weird wand before sliding out of sight, likely unconscious now as well.
Rabastan blinked and took another handful of steps back. There were now only three of them. This man had taken them down to half strength and didn't even appear winded – nor had he bothered to cast a single spell! Granted, between himself and his brother, those left were the most experienced and powerful half, but the speed with which this man was taking them down... and the method! Who fought like that?
Rodolphus cast another killing curse, now directed at the man's back, but apparently he had eyes in the back of his head as well as impossible joints as he bent aside without looking.
"Have you considered personalizing your masks?" The man asked with a ridiculous amount of aplomb, turning to the last recruit. "I think some time spent as a group with some paint brushes and real thought about your own sense of style would do wonders for you. Probably cut your therapy bills in half!"
The final recruit was backing away, calling out a series of curses that filled the air with shards of sharp cutting magic. It shouldn't have been possible to dodge them all and, as the man flipped up into the air, twisted and landed, crouched on the top of one of the desks, like an animal on all fours, it seemed that the stranger could do the impossible. Then Rabastan realized he hadn't avoided them all - the strange fabric over his torso was nicked in several places, and a shallow red slice creased one arm, but that was a paltry amount of damage in return for the sheer effort a spell like that would cost.
With a suddenness that should no longer have surprised him, the man vaulted upwards, leaping over yet another killing curse (couldn't his brother stop fixating on that one spell?) and Rabastan's own blinding spell. At the apex of his arc, the man twisted his torso, flinging his arm around as if tossing a discus. Although Rabastan didn't see anything actually leave the man's hand, he did hear his brother cry out in pained surprise and spared enough attention to see that Rodolphus was clutching his wand hand against his chest, a jagged piece of metal embedded in the back of it, blood welling up out of the wound.
Turning back to the stranger, Rabastan called up a fireball and sent it across the room. Diving behind a desk, the man managed to avoid getting scorched. The recruit, however, wasn't so lucky. With a shriek of agony, the Death Eater collapsed, the fire having melted the recruit's robes into his skin.
"Not too bright are you?" The voice mocked them, although he remained hiding behind the desk he'd used for cover. With a snarl, Rabastan blasted that desk apart, expecting either to finally kill the man or for him to pull out another series of impossible dodges. But except for scorched floor tiles and a few tendrils of smoke, the vaporized desk revealed nothing.
With narrowed eyes, he carefully walked sideways between the rows of orderly desks, checking to see if the man had skittered over to the neighboring desk somehow. He frowned and moved again, beginning a circuit around the room, wand at ready.
"Did you get him?" Rodolphus growled and Rabastan shook his head irritably.
"He got away somehow." He surveyed the sea of desks, knowing that the man could be cowering behind any one of them. Had he activated a Portkey? In a gesture of frustration, he threw another fireball, consuming a random desk and revealing nothing.
"A bit impatient, are we?" The mocking voice returned and Rabastan whirled around as he registered that it came from somewhere behind him. For a silent heartbeat he saw nothing, then his brother let out a surprised grunt and fell to the ground, disappearing from view as if his feet had been swiped out from under him. A cut off curse and silence reigned once more. Charging back through the ocean of desks, Rabastan cast a spell that sent a wave of kinetic energy, crashing the desks into each other in a tidal wave away from him and revealing his brother's fallen form.
He knelt briefly to check that he was still alive, feeling cold fury and no little fear shiver through his blood. He would burn this whole place to the ground. He would unleash demon fire the likes of which even their Dark Lord would tremble at.
Standing, with mouth open and curses at the tip of his wand, he met a pair of steely blue eyes and never even saw the knuckles before stars exploded across his vision and his rage drowned in suffocating darkness.
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Hermione swiped an impatient hand over her face, smoothing down the frizzing strands of hair that were beginning to cling to her skin. She and Tommy weren't quite at a run, but their brisk pace was still starting to catch up with her. While not exactly out of shape, she wasn't really known as the most athletic in her circle of friends, and now a thin layer of sweat was beginning to make her clothes stick in uncomfortable ways.
They had left the corridor where Derek had vanished, Tommy urging them to get out of the Ministry while they could and Hermione unable to disagree (despite the urge to track down the kid's brother and throttle the man). She'd been in the Ministry of Magic before during a Death Eater attack, and while that small skirmish in 5th year was probably nothing like this attack, she'd learned that splitting up never ended well. Derek was probably going to end up killed.
But she'd been left in charge of his brother and Hermione was going to see that the boy made it out of there alive even if she had to invent a new way to travel through anti-apparation wards to do it.
At least Tommy seemed to be doing his best to cooperate. He'd remained close to her side as if glued there with a sticking charm.
He'd been the one to set their pace, breaking into a quick jog almost immediately, only slowing when they entered a new room or came to an intersection. She might have preferred a more cautious pace, but they hadn't actually stumbled on any Death Eaters, only a continuous flow of panicked witches and wizards running in every direction (and once a bloody smear on the wall that she fervently hoped Tommy hadn't noticed). They were getting close to the large foyer where the security booths lined up and Hermione began to hope that they'd be able to duck into a floo and get away with no one the wiser.
She should have known better though. Even without Harry there, her luck wouldn't be that good.
Tommy noticed before she did, slowing to near stop before the hall took a sharp right turn. She slowed as well, wondering what had caught his attention, but before she could ask, she heard it too. There had been a lot of screaming and angry yelling since the attack began, so she hadn't immediately registered the voices around the corner, but then she caught the difference between these voices and the ones they'd been hearing around them. This voice was loud, but deliberate, barking out orders with a voice dripping with contempt. Whoever was around the corner wasn't fearing for his life, and he had buddies if the way he was snapping out commands was any indication.
And, now that she was paying attention, she realized she recognized that voice.
Tommy, flattened up against the hallway wall looked like he was about to poke his head around the corner for a look, so she grabbed his shoulder, halting him, then leaned up close to whisper, "That's Snape. The Death Eaters probably have the floos and lifts blocked off. We need to find another way out."
"Is there another way out?" Tommy asked in a dry voice that seemed to anticipate a negative answer.
Refusing to admit that she wasn't sure, she hissed back, "There's got to be something. Maybe there's another floo in the Auror offices." In fact, now that she thought of it, there probably were several floos throughout the Ministry. It wouldn't make sense to force the aurors to trek all the way back to the entry hall when they needed to respond to an emergency.
"You said earlier that they probably have all the exits guarded. Let's see if we can sneak out here before we try someplace else."
Hermione nodded, even though Tommy couldn't see her, then leaned around him, "Let me take a look at what's happening."
She cautiously poked her head around, very aware of the fact than her invisibility cloak was far from fool-proof. She had no desire to take a spell to the head just because she got careless.
The bend in the hall was a bit sharper than 90 degrees, curving back in on itself and continuing for another thirty feet or so before widening like a cone and emptying into the cavernous entry hall. Hermione's first impression of the situation in the hall was 'a mess'. The neat rows of wand weighing booths had been demolished, splintered wood and dead bodies littering the floor. Beyond the remains of the security booths, the floos were dark. The only people upright and moving were in black robes with white face masks.
Grimacing, she swept her eyes across her limited view field and counted eleven Death Eaters. Which meant at least double the number were likely outside her view. Snape's voice has stopped issuing orders, but Hermione had no idea if any of the figures before her might be her old professor or not – and at the moment she didn't care.
How in Merlin's name was she going to get Tommy safely through that?
She nearly withdrew to tell Tommy what she's seen when something caught her eye. It was a line of bodies, neatly laid out. It was the unexpected orderliness that caught her attention, but once she's noticed, she felt her heart sink. It was a row of children. Faces pale and still, one with a bruise over a cheekbone, another with a bit of blood matting her blond hair, they lay in a neat little line.
She felt a tremble begin to shiver up from her belly and extend out to her arms. How could anyone kill a bunch of children? They were so young, none of them looked old enough to have gotten a Hogwarts letter. The Death Eaters were sick – she'd always known Voldemort and his followers had no compunctions against attacking kids – just look at what the madman had tried to do to Harry again and again! But somehow it was different to be seventeen and seeing the evidence laid out in tiny bodies than it was to be eleven and hear your friend talk about how he'd defeated Quirrell. Or even fourteen and seeing the still body of a classmate.
"What is it?" Tommy must have felt the shudder ripple through her and his whispered question snapped her out of her daze. For the second time, she nearly withdrew from around the corner, but stopped. Another frozen body of a child came into view, hovering several feet above the ground, followed by a Death Eater with wand trained on the young form, obviously directing it. Beside him another Death Eater walked, gesturing in sharp flicks of his hands. Even as the body was lowered at the end of the line, a third Death Eater rushed into view heading straight to the child's body on the other end row. With a quick crouch, the new Death Eater lifted the child's torso, wrapping an arm around the girl's shoulders. Then the pair vanished, swirling away in the silent manner of a portkey.
Hermione gave an involuntary gasp.
"What? What's happening?" Tommy's demand alerted her to the fact that the boy was practically drumming his fingers against her arm in impatience and if she didn't want him to stick his own neck out to try to get a look, she'd need to let him in on what she'd seen.
She pulled back and looked at him, "There are at least twenty Death Eaters between us and the floo and they're portkeying away the bodies of children."
Tommy blinked at her, his brow furrowed, "Are you sure they're dead?"
She opened her mouth to confirm it, then reconsidered. They'd been completely still and silent and surrounded by very obviously dead bodies of whoever had been unlucky enough to have been in the way when the Death Eaters had first invaded, but it was true that she wasn't close enough to see if they were breathing. Maybe they'd just been stunned?
"I don't know," She confessed, feeling the sickening churning in her stomach now mix with some sort of dread, "If they aren't dead, they're kidnapping them." She honestly wasn't sure if that was better.
Tommy pursed his lips and tilted his head, obviously thinking.
"We need to rescue them." She stated the words before she'd even completed the thought, but it settled around her with a kind of conviction that calmed her stomach and erased the trembling that had been vibrating along her fingers.
Tommy's nod was absent, as if that decision hadn't even been in question, "We need to –"
He broke off and Hermione heard the clomp of booted feet coming their way. At least one Death Eater – a large one from the sound of it – was heading down their hall.
"Stay here," Tommy whispered, quick and urgent, "When they get past you, stun them."
"Wha-?" But then he was off at a sprint, back down the hall where they'd come from. It was obvious of course, once she realized what he was doing. In the brightly lit empty hall, Tommy would have been immediately noticed. If he were fast enough, he could duck around the corner before anyone saw him.
Unfortunately, he didn't make it.
There were two of them, one tall and broad and the other slender and with slumped shoulders. It was the thinner one who spotted Tommy and his voice squeaked out, "Hey!" even as he fumbled for his wand.
Tommy spun around, his robe flaring around him dramatically as he gave them a broad smile, "Hey yourself!"
Both Death Eaters took several steps forward, finally moving beyond Hermione and giving her two broad targets.
Her first stunner smacked into the smaller man almost simultaneously with the man's own stupify leaving his wand towards Tommy. She didn't pause to check if it caught the muggle before casting another bolt of magic at the second man.
The second Death Eater was quick, he'd nearly spun back around to face her before her stunning spell caught him in the shoulder, dispatching him. A quick glance at Tommy told her that her charge was still on his feet, unharmed.
For a few heartbeat there was stillness as she waited to see if either of her targets moved or if more Death Eaters would show up. Then Tommy was back at her side cheerfully declaring, "I'm going to have to convince Pop to get us a couple of those invisibility cloaks. That's way better than just wearing black."
A snort of surprised laughter escaped Hermione before she asked a bit dryly, "And what would you use them for? Jumping out of closets and scaring your friends?" She shook her head, "Well, good luck with that. They're so rare that I've never even heard of anyone else owning one." Returning her attention to the task at hand, she added, "Although at times like these, a second one would be handy."
"Uh-huh," Tommy agreed, "Anyway, I have a plan for rescuing the children you saw. I'll let myself get captured, then when they –"
"That's a horrible plan!" Hermione exclaimed.
"Wait, let me finish! After I'm captured, you can hold on to me as we're teleported to wherever they're keeping the children. Then you can revive them and then we'll escape."
"That's still a horrible plan! Kind of short on details too. How are we going to escape once we're there?"
Tommy shrugged nonchalantly, "Well until we know more about the situation at the other end of the teleportation, we'll have to wing it."
Hermione chewed on her lower lip for a minute trying to come up with a better idea. Trying to defeat a whole room of Death Eaters would be suicide. Luring them out in smaller numbers seemed equally unlikely to end well. And no matter what, they'd have to end up taking a portkey to find the already transported children. Tommy's plan actually had the best chance of working out. Assuming of course that they didn't end up at Voldemort's feet. Or in some sort of dungeon.
There were a lot of assumptions with this plan.
"What if the children really are dead? Or what if they think you're too old?"
Giving her a crooked smile that didn't seem to quite reach his eyes, Tommy quietly admitted, "Then we'll be in trouble."
Feeling a weight settle in her gut, and with a silent apology to the other Malone for not keeping his baby brother safe, she relented, "How are you going to get captured?"
Shrugging, he stepped away from her, "I'll act like I've already been stunned then wait and let the next set of Death Eaters come by and collect me."
"Oh," she started, feeling unsettled, "Why didn't we just use them?" She gestured to the two men sprawled on the floor, forgetting that he couldn't see her.
Tommy gave her a smirk, "Would you have just sat back and let them kidnap me?"
Deflating, Hermione had to admit that she wouldn't have.
"It's fine, I just lay out in the middle of the hall and the next Death Eater to head our way will have to trip over me to get by. They'll either take me back with the rest of the kids or keep on walking. Either way, what do we have to lose?"
Honestly, she could think of several things they might lose with this gamble, not the least of which was their freedom or lives. But she'd never be able to live with herself if they didn't try to do something.
Tommy stepped out into the middle of the hall as promised, then laid out on the floor. He didn't stretch out on his back, as she'd expected, but sort of twisted with his shoulders almost flat on the ground, but his hips curved around as if he'd been turning when he fell. One arm was bent around, elbow jutting out and hand curved under him as if he'd fallen on it. Hermione felt a momentary spark of curiosity. Had the boy had to fake being unconscious before? His position looked incredibly uncomfortable and thus not at all feigned. Very smart, if he'd come up with it on the spot.
They had to wait several minutes before the next pair of Death Eaters trooped through, but they reacted perfectly. After exclaiming over their unconscious colleagues, debating over the merits of reviving them or not (they did, but not without a great deal of grumbling), and checking to make sure Tommy was still alive (and wandless), they floated the boy up and back to the main hall without making sure he was actually as unaware as he acted.
Hermione, feeling terribly exposed, followed behind them, settling at Tommy's limp feet to wait their turn with for the Death Eater portkey. Despite her fears, no one noticed her and in less than fifteen minutes they'd both been whisked out of the Ministry.
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A/N: I did some (minor) changes to some previous chapters, the largest of which was a bit more detail on what Dick and Tim are wearing (specifically, their current body armor is not the same as their costumes).
Thank you for reading! I would certainly appreciate any reviews – I re-read the ones I've received frequently, so a HUGE thank you to those who've encouraged me.