We planned to the last minute. Everything conveyed in secret notes, clandestine meetings, and coded glances. Neville was still hauled up in the Hospital Wing. It seemed ridiculous to return him to the hustle and bust of classes with only four days left in the term, two of them being weekend days at that. I spent my days on Draco's arm, no returns to the Slytherin common room thankfully, and my night running back and forth over the same blueprints and timing schedules hidden away in the Room of Requirement. Hagrid had thrown a "Support Harry Potter" party in his cabin. We knew better than to show up though all of us were dying to grab a butterbeer and join in the celebrations. If Snape or anyone had caught wind of what was going on we would have been on lock down, and the night before the big day it was something we couldn't afford to risk. We had poured so much into it, it was impenetrable, impervious, it couldn't fail. But naturally, it did.
"It's all set, " Luna whispered, joining us behind the tapestry where we had hidden so many weeks ago when we had first cooked up this plan; they'd taken Neville and all we could do was watched, and wait.
"The broomsticks?" I questioned. I knew she had had it all covered, but in my own anxiety I couldn't help but ask.
"On the roof," she whispered, her eyes closed as if she could see them laying against the battlements.
"The food, the spare robes?" I continued. If I had been in Luna's shoes I would have wanted to smack me. If anything my constant questioning was only making things worse, was only fraying our nerves further. But Luna took it in stride, patting her bulging rucksack.
"How's Draco?" she inquired after a minute's silence, and I could see I wasn't the only one looking for a distraction.
"Good," I answered shortly, then hoping to fill more space I added, "Thinks I have fallen ill, again."
"Oh?" she pressed, not really interested, but humoring the situation anyhow.
"Yeah," I nodded, "I took on of Fred and George's Puking Pastilles, insisted it just have been food poisoning or something. He fell for it, no problem. You think he'd have cottoned on after that stunt we pulled with them back in our fourth year, but…"
My voice trailed away and be both turned towards Neville. He was silent, his wrist held a breath away from his nose, his eyes unblinkingly fixed on the second hand.
"He should be leaving…. Right… Now!" he hissed as I grabbed for the edge of the tapestry, peeling it back lightly, just enough to catch a glimpse of the stone gargoyles that surrounded the Head Master's office. The shifted to one side for a moment, emitting Snape into the hallway, his black robes billowing and I could almost see his last steps down the circular staircase from his office above. He paused a moment and we all held our breath. I feel the blood pounding in my ears, my heart pounding in my chest. He glanced around, looking for nothing in particular before turning away towards the Grand Staircase, heading to the Great Hall for his dinner, just as Neville had guessed, his days of observation adding weight to his deductions.
"Ok," he whispered, his eyes set, drawn up to full height, "Let's do this."
I saw Luna nod from behind him, taking a deep breath, stealing herself. There was no turning back now.
I yanked back the tapestry, running towards the stone gargoyles at full tilt. My shoes clattered against the polished marble, my heart pounded in my ears, it was like I'd never heard anything more deafening in my life. The stone gargoyles were posed to shout, either from surprise because I was running or because they foresaw an intrusion. Regardless, they never got a word out before I'd whipped my wand from the pocket of my robes and gasped, "Immobulus!"
At once the gargoyles froze, their expressions of shock and outrage etched in their stone faces. We'd decided against "stupefy", after what we had seen last year during the Death Eater storm where they had lain shattered and strewn across the marble floor. Neville and Luna followed at a slow job, clapping me on the back at Neville turned towards the entrance to the Headmaster's office.
I couldn't help but look over my shoulder as Neville leaned in to give the password. "Lily flower," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the throbbing of my pulse through my ears. It hadn't occurred to me then how odd Snape's password was to me, how under any other circumstances I would have snickered in a habit that would have made Fred and George proud, but at the time the only thing I could think of was how badly I hoped this would work, that Snape wouldn't return, that the password hadn't been changed.
The revolving staircase appeared, began to move slowly. In our shock we almost forgot to jump aboard. Neville had come to his senses first, pulling me by the robes along with him. I grabbed for Luna's hand at the last second, and we were momentarily plunged into darkness as the staircase continued to rise before coming to a stuttering, abrupt halt before a large wooden door that we more felt than saw.
"Well, shall we?" Neville asked, his voice hardly above a whisper as he placed his hand flat against the ornately carved wood and pushed. The door swung easily on its hinges. The office was as Dumbledore had left it, not a gadget out of place, the ornate chair behind the desk made of the same soft leather it had been years ago when I had seen it, the portraits sleeping, Dumbledore himself leaning against his frame, snoring lightly.
We stood on the threshold, hardly daring to step in on the soft blue carpet, our eyes roving the circular walls mutely until…
"It's there," Luna gasped, her hand pushing my shoulder aside as she pointed to a glass case on the far wall beside the old sorting hat.
Silence pressed again, none of us quite sure of what to do. Should we step across, just grab it from the case and run? Should be try 'accio', would it even respond? Would we set off any alarms? Was Snape on our heels? Were we really here?
I heard Neville gulp beside me, lifting his leg roughly, arthritically, and placing it firmly over the threshold, heel then toe. He paused, seeing like I would have if anything had happened. Apparently the poisoned darts were only Indiana Jones' thing. He let out a light sight and I would have laughed if my voice wasn't caught in my throat. He took another step, gingerly walking as lightly and quickly as his gangly frame could carry him. We followed at his heel like puppies after scraps, our eyes darting to every corner. I nearly bumped into him as he came to a light stop, his eyes fixed on the glass case just above us, definitely within arm's length, his arms at least.
"Do I just.. should I…" Neville stammered, struggling to find the words as he checked his watch. We had another two minutes before we had to vacate the office, another five before we had to be atop the astronomy tower.
Luna nodded fervently, urging him forward. He was the only one tall enough, though I doubted my own courage in those moments. I placed my hand lightly on his shoulder and felt him jump beneath my touch.
"It's alright," I soothed, "Almost done. Just grab it, Neville, just do it."
He raised his hand timidly, his fingers glancing the glass case, leaving a smudge on the top right corner as he flipped the lid back. It banged against the mahogany wood of the ornate bookcase and the sorting hat stirred lightly. Rising up on his toes, Neville arched his wrist, grabbing the hilt of the sword and pulling it from the case, careful to not scratch it against the rigid glass walls. He eased it down, I could only imagine what those rubies weighed.
He held it gingerly in both hands, surveying it like an employee of Gringotts. We look on in silence. It had been years since I had seen the sword, the egg sized rubies in the hilt, the goblin made metals that compiled the blade. After weeks of planning, all of the sacrifices made, all the pains endured: here it was, in our hands, literally within our grasp. I felt a fluttering in my stomach that I couldn't quite place. I was excited, here in our hands was the means to end the war, the weapon Harry could use against You-Know-Who. But at the same time, here was the weapon to end the war, and that kind of power, that kind of responsibility, it was humbling, like nothing I had ever felt before.
"We should probably get going…" Luna whispered after a time. And she was right, we needed to move. There was no reason to dawdle except that we were all stricken dumb by the magnitude of what we were doing, of the power of what we had in our hands. She pulled herself away, and I was only moments behind her as her hand reached out for the door handle leading back towards the rotating staircase.
"Neville," I whispered, glancing over my shoulder, seeing him standing there at the case, stock still, his eyes fixed on the sorting hat. It was that far-away stare I had seen once before on his round, pallid face, one I never thought I'd see again since the Hall ofn Prophecy. "Neville."
"We have to go," Luna hissed at me, checking her own watch. I nodded for her to go down first, to keep a look out, plan our next move, as I turned back towards Neville.
"Neville," I whispered again, my eyes darting between his and the lifeless wizard's hat. "Neville, we need to go." I reached out to touch his shoulder and he jumped, surprised, as if he had just noticed I was there, as if he had just remembered what we were doing.
"Spoke to me," his voice was strange, broken. He cleared his throat before turning to me, his face twisted with confusion, "It spoke to me."
"Right," I nodded, taking the sword from his grasp gingerly and stowing it beneath my robes as best as I could, holding it in place by locking my left elbow against my body. "Well, we need to go…"
"Uh.. right, yeah," he stammered, shaking himself. I didn't wait for him to fully recover, instead I grabbed his wrist, tugging him with me and towards the staircase. As I glanced back to make sure he was still with me, to ask him how much time we had left, to mask my own nerves by putting on a brave face for him I saw he was turned away from me, his hand limp in my vice like grip as I pulled him behind me, like a small child being pulled away from a desired toy by a busy mother, his eyes still staring towards the hat in a glassy fashion.
I pulled him roughly on to the staircase and felt it begin to rotate as the door close with a snap behind us. We stepped into the bright lights and smooth marble of the seventh floor. Luna was there, waiting for us, hopping back and forth from one foot to another on the other side of one of the immobilized stone gargoyles. I nodded towards her and she checked her watch again though I knew she had practically memorized our time line.
"We're late," she whispered, her face grave but her eyes round.
"By how much?" I asked, my hand still locked around Neville's wrist. She checked her watch again, a habit, but it was Neville who answered.
"Almost one and a half minutes, one thirty seven.. thirty eight," he whispered.
"So we….?" I began but it was Neville again who cut across, regaining himself, his shoulders back, his head high, becoming a leader that it would be easy to fall in line behind.
"We run," he whispered, and took off down the corridor towards the other side of the castle, heading for the Astronomy Tower. I nodded to Luna who gritted her teeth and took off after him. I over took them easily, coming to the first corner and skidding silently to a halt before peering around the rough stone into a vacant corridor. I glance over my shoulder, waving them on before taking off once more, heading for the far end of the castle, taking the turns: a left, two rights, another left, head straight, without thought and with the ease of Hogwart's sixth year.
I came to a final halt beneath the spiral staircase that would lead to the under belly of the tower, gripping the cold, iron railing in my sweaty palm. Neville skidded to a stop, his shoes sliding on the sleek marble, and leaned against the stone archway, pressing his cheek into the cold rock, his face red and sweaty. Luna came gasping into view around the last corner, a few leg lengths away, clutching a stitch in her side, her breath coming in gasps.
"You alright?" I asked, and she shot me a mildly dirty look, one that envied my long legs and easy stride. I felt uneasy, wanting to say something, praise her in some way that would take the embarrassment of a red, sweaty face from her eyes, but before I could I heard a noise from above us, and from the round eyes and aghast looks I received from my two accomplices, I knew that in my anxiety I wasn't just hearing things.
"What was that?" I hissed, realizing after I'd said it that they were not any more likely to know that I was. I turned to head up the steely staircase, placing one foot lightly in front of the other when Luna lunged forward and grabbed my arm, preventing me from taking another step.
"You don't know who could be up there," she warned, and of course she was right, I didn't know, but I was banking on the off chance that it was hardcore Ravenclaw racking up study hours or maybe a few randy Hufflepuffs hoping for a few hours of privacy.
"We're running out of time," I told her, though she already knew. I shook my head, "I've got to see. We've got to go. The brooms are up there, it's our only way out."
Reluctantly she let me go, her hand trailing away down my arm as I ascending the spiral staircase, my palm sweaty against the cool metal, my wand held tight in my hand. As I approached the landing I began to hunch over, crawl the remainder to the top stair, my knees bumping against the unforgiving metal, the sword hitched awkwardly at my side. The fingers of my wand hand wrapping around the final stair, my other hand in a firm grip on the railing, I peaked my head up into the shadows. I blinked rapidly, my eyes adjusting to the lack of light, the cold winter air blowing my hair across my face. I sat in the silence, my thighs burning from the awkward squat in which I had posed myself. I was about to give it up as a bad job, as jumpy nerves, and was beginning to wonder if Neville could see up my skirt when…
"How long s'it been?" he whined. I froze, I knew that voice.
" 'Bout a hour now," the other responded.
"I'm near sick o' this shite, le's call it," Crabbe groaned. I heard shuffling and could assumed that he had been sitting about as uncomfortably as I was.
"Draco said wait," Goyle cut through, " 'E said ta wait for 'em ta show."
"Yeah? 'Nd Draco s'not been so right of late, 'as 'e?"
There was an uncomfortable silence, I could almost see Goyle shifting uncomfortably, his eyes down cast, "No, 'e 'asn't."
"Is that Weasley bitch," Crabbe hissed, fire behind his voice, "She's gone done somp'in to 'im."
"Nah, don' think is tha'," Goyle whispered, "But don' let 'im 'ear ya say it."
"Yeah? Wha' is't then?" Crabbe shot back, challenging, defiant.
"Dunno," Goyle sighed, "S'aint right, though…"
They fell back into silence and I turned to creep back down the stairs, I had to tell Luna and Neville, we were running out of time, something had to be done. My first thought would be to attack them, avada them off the tower just as Snape had done to Dumbledore, leave a message that could sink in. But the bodies, they'd know we had left and it would be safer for us if they had to search the castle and the grounds again, it would buy us more time. With Crabbe and Goyle still alive, but unable to tell them, could we still get away, maybe with Obliviate and a lot of luck.
My knees cracked in protest as I shifted uneasily on the stair, sliding my feet backwards to the edge where I could lower one foot, then the other, and make my way slowly back down the stairs towards where Neville and Luna stood waiting, hardly daring to breathe. I began inching backwards, making slow progress of the arduous work until the balls of my feet felt the edge. I stepped backwards, stepping down, one foot and then the other, and began to slide backwards once more, inching my way to the edge. I felt the edge in moments, my knee knocking against the metal in protest as I again unfolded my long legs from beneath me to step back again. I put my left foot down, firm against the stair, and sought to follow with my right, but as I moved, as I shifted my weight, my foot was caught in my robes, and I was tumbling backwards faster than I had intended, my butt banging against the stairs, my back cracking against the metal. My arm shot out, grabbing for the railing, my sweaty palm skidding against the cool surface. I had managed to pull myself up right, my legs sprawled before me, one of my heels grazing the landing, the blood from my bruises knees running upwards and under my skirt.
"Wha' was that?" Crabbe yelled, and in a moment I knew they would be on their feet, staring down at me.
"Gin!" Neville called from the darkness below, I could barely made out his silhouette in the dim light from the corridor as be charge for the stairs, his feet pounding against the metal, the frame jostling beneath me.
"Well lookee wha' we got 'ere," Crabbe leered, his crooked teeth showing a malicious grin, "The Weasley bitch."
Goyle peaked down at me from over Crabbe's shoulder, wetting his lips, his eyes darting between Crabbe and myself, and all the while I could hear Neville below us, pounding his way up the stairs, screaming for me, "Gin! Gin answer me!"
It was like I was struck dumb; I couldn't have said anything if I wanted to, my hand in a vice like grip around the railing, the only thing preventing me from tumbling back down and crumpling into a heap where Neville and I would collide. I was vaguely aware of the pain in my back, and the stitch in my side, my left side, where the sword was hidden. I would only hope I hadn't skewered myself on it as I felt the familiar trickle of hot blood flowing from beneath my blouse.
"Draco was righ', we would find somp'in in'erestin 'ere tonigh'," Crabbe jeered as he slowly began to descend towards me, kicking my feet aside, stepping over my calves, my bloodied knees, kicking out at the blood soaked hem of my skirt with the heel of his shoe revealing my inner thighs. He grabbed from the railing, his ham like fist poised just above mine, his other reaching out to smear the bloody streams flowing up my legs, as he leaned down into my face and whispered, "If I didn' know be'er, Weasley, I'd say yer blood's jus' as clea' as mine."
He brought his fingers to his face, mashing his thumb and first two fingers together, feeling my blood on his hands, "Almos'…"
I should have seen it coming, but he was so quick that it caught me off guard. It wasn't until he had left his hand print across my cheek that I had realized he'd struck me. I gasped, clenching my wand in my hand, ready to curse him into the next life when someone beat me to it.
"Stupefy!" yelled a voice from behind me, a few stairs down from me. I watched Crabbe's ugly, gleeful face lean closer towards mine. I crushed myself against the railing underneath his outstretched arm in time for him to tumble past me.
I could scarcely right myself before my savior was grabbing me roughly from under the arms and pulling me to my feet, clutching my shoulders to turn me around, strands of hair catching on my lips, my clumsy feet tripping on the stairs, my bloodied knees knocking together as I turned to face those hard eyes.
"Hello, Darling," he whispered, his voice low and deadly.
I felt my breath catch in my chest, like I'd been plunged into icy cold water. I was blind not to have seen this coming, especially after seeing Crabbe and Goyle staking out the tower. Draco would be nearby, of course he would, but…
"Trying to figure out how I knew?" he asked, his eyes wide in mock pity, his fingers biting into my flesh as he read my mind. Glancing over his shoulder I noted Neville a little ways down, just past the turn in the stairs, bound from head to foot with tight, vice like ropes, the kind "Incarcarus" would unleash. His eyes were wide, his mouth was bound, a mixture of blood and spittle pooling against the cold metal where his cheek lay. I was stupid to think he could be coming to my rescue, to have the hope that he would make, that the arms that had hoisted me to me feet were his. It was the perfect plan, and like everything else in my life, it was had come crashing down around me.