It was raining. Cold, fat drops of water descending from the sky, turning the snow into mud and Hermione's hair in something that looked like a drowned animal. She felt as if her wandhand would freeze off but didn't dare risk a warming charm, worried it might interfere with their spell-casting.
And it was of the utmost importance that the spell they were casting happened without a hitch, despite it's very high level of difficulty.
The correct runes had been drawn on the ground, and now she and Draco were standing as close as possible to where they thought the Fidelius charm began. They were near enough to the sea that the wind carried with it that peculiar salty smell, and Hermione was reminded of many a vacation spent at the beach with her parents.
But there was no time to reminisce about past happy days; the spell needed a very high level of concentration and was draining their energy. They had, perhaps, underestimated the toll it would have on them when used on such a large surface. Just a little.
She bit through the fatigue, though, and kept chanting. She found strength in Draco's voice next to her, and little by little she could feel the Fidelius detaching itself from its roots. It was a very peculiar feeling, one that she never had encountered with any other spell, and a shared glance with Draco told her he wasn't familiar with it either.
"Too late to stop now," he shouted at her, loud enough to be heard over the howling wind. "Can you finish it?"
She nodded, shaking a little in the cold. "You?" she yelled back.
"Yeah! Let's do it!"
With an immense effort, they detached the spell entirely and gently levitated it up to the sky, making the house visible. Behind Hermione and Draco, where several trustworthy Aurors had been hidden the entire time, other Aurors started popping into existence, being called up urgently by Williams. It would still be a while before they could storm the house, however, as there were several other layers of protection-spells keeping them from the Death Eaters. Thanks to several anti-Apparition wards, Valentina and her followers would be unable to escape.
Other Aurors would take care of that, however, and Hermione was relieved she would get a moment of respite. She was tired, so very tired, and cold to the bone.
"Granger? Are you alright?"
She looked up at Draco and offered an exhausted smile. "Let's go find some shelter!" she said.
That's when everything went wrong. Instead of walking back to her friends, Hermione felt as if a giant fist grabbed her and lifted her up from the ground.
Shit, Hermione thought. That explained the odd feeling she had with the spell: the Fidelius had been protected with a failsafe, transporting whoever dismantled it to another location. She could end up anywhere, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.
The following sensation was similar to apparition, but far more painful and confusing. The moment Hermione's feet landed on a floor, her knees buckled and she fell, dizzy and disorientated. Her first reaction was to grab for her wand, but she wasn't fast enough.
"Expeliarmus!"
Her wand flew away from her, and before she even managed to get a look at her opponent another spell hit her and then everything turned black.
When Hermione regained consciousness, she was bound to a chair and had a nasty bump on her head. She opened her eyes to an immense room with high ceilings, no windows and big pillars forming two rows in the middle. There was a certain beauty to it, but it was too imposing to be pleasant to behold.
She was surrounded by more than twenty men and women, dressed entirely in black, and in the middle, facing her, there was a throne-like chair. On that chair sat a woman unlike any Hermione had ever seen before. The woman wasn't young, time had already carved lines into her face, but she possessed a beauty and feral grace that raised goosebumps on Hermione's skin.
It had to be Valentina. That thought was confirmed by Antonin Dolohov's presence slightly behind the throne, glaring in Hermione's general direction.
"Welcome, Miss Granger," said Valentina, with a slight Russian accent that only made her sound more threatening. She certainly did not appear welcoming. "I must confess myself impressed. I would never have thought a little Mudblood like yourself would be instrumental in figuring out how to dismantle the Fidelius Charm."
"Well, people do call me the Brightest Witch of my Age," Hermione responded, while taking stock of the room and desperately looking for a possibility to escape. The best she could do right now was to keep the woman talking and hope the Aurors would manage to break through the other wards quickly.
It was then that she heard a groan coming from next to her, and her heart stuttered with terror when she realized that she wasn't the only one captured.
"Oh fuck," said Draco when he saw her.
"Yes, I believe that sums our situation up quite accurately," she replied, reigning in her fear. Panicking wouldn't help anyone, and she refused to give this bunch of wanna-be Death Eaters the satisfaction.
"Ah, Draco Malfoy. My husband told me you were a coward who wasn't worth recruiting, and yet here you are, fighting with the Gryffindors and destroying my spells." Valentina's voice had taken a dangerous undertone with the last words. This was definitely not a woman to be trifled with. They would have to tread carefully. Thankfully, Hermione thought, Draco was rather good at that.
"To be entirely honest," Draco said. "That's mostly to Granger's credit. I only helped a little."
Hermione understood what he was doing at once, and played along. She gaped at him, shock transforming her features. "What the hell?"
Valentina laughed, rose from her chair and approached Hermione. "You didn't think he really liked you, did you? Malfoy's are notorious for their ability to use and discard people. I'm sure young Draco here saw the chance to make the best of this ugly new society by toying with you, and took it. Although some could say that he is weak for it," she added, and several people voiced their agreement.
"No-good blood-traitor," one man said loudly.
"And why is that, Avery? Just because I associate with a Mudblood? Might I remind you that you obediently followed a Half-Blood bent on world domination? You're no better than I am."
Oh, that hurt. Hermione knew it was ridiculous, that Draco needed to play the part, that he was doing everything he could to keep them both alive for as long as possible, but hearing him say that vile word felt like a slap in the face.
Valentina cackled. "Careful, Draco," she said. "I believe you hurt it's feelings."
"I believe I hurt Avery's feelings too."
"You shut your mouth, you worthless prick," said another man. Hermione recognized him from pictures in the paper; it was Rodolphus Lestrange. She gripped the arms of the chair tighter, starting to focus on the magic inside her. She was no genius in wandless magic, but, if angry enough, might manage to free herself and do some damage.
"If my wife was still alive to see this, she would be so very disappointed in her nephew and sister. Tell me, where is darling Cissy? I am going to enjoy ripping her to pieces."
Hermione tensed, fearing that this would be enough to break Draco's composure, but he remained calm. "You've never been very creative when it came to either threats or spells, Rodolphus. It's a miracle you still manage to function without Bella to order you around."
Rodolphus pointed his wand at Draco and uttered the first syllables of the cruciatus, when Valentina stopped him with a simple hand-gesture. He obeyed at once, albeit begrudgingly.
A cold shudder trekked over Hermione's spine. If Valentina had so many men and women, powerful wizards and witches amongst them, at her beck and call, she had to be as powerful as Voldemort himself.
"Impressive, Rodolphus," Draco said, and the tone of his voice made it amply clear that he did not mean that in the positive way. "The Dark Lord has only been dead for a couple of years and you have already become someone else's little bitch."
"Enough!" Valentina barely raised her voice, but the effect was immediate; a deadly silence reigned in the hall. She then turned to Hermione. "You will teach me how to break the Fidelius Charm."
Hermione blinked, expecting the sentence to be followed by all sorts of threats, but when Valentina merely looked at her expectantly, she opened her mouth. "Er... No."
"I was hoping you'd say that," Valentina then said, a cruel grin deforming her face. "It's so much more fun the hard way. Crucio!"
Hermione managed to keep her wits together long enough to shoot Draco a warning look before the pain hit, and then all thoughts were banned from her mind. All that was left was agony, and suddenly she felt seventeen again, writhing on the floor by another powerful witch's wand.
And yet, it was different; as if the effect of the cruciatus altered depending on the personality of the caster. With Bellatrix, the pain was everywhere, bringing chaos and panic and madness. This time, the pain was far more controlled, making it hurt a lot more intensely. She could feel it in her bones, in her veins, in the deepest recesses of her mind, and she had never been more terrified.
After an eternity, the spell ended. Hermione slumped in her chair, only held up by the ropes that bound her.
"Now, little Mudblood, speak. I will find out what I want to know, so you might as well spare yourself the pain and answer now."
The bitter taste of blood was in Hermione's mouth; she must have bitten her tongue during the torture. It only worsened the nausea roiling in her stomach, and she gritted her teeth to prevent herself the humiliation of throwing up in front of this monster.
Instinctively, her gaze sought out Draco, needing reassurance. He looked paler than she had ever seen him, his hands clutching the chair tightly, but his mask remained strong. Only when she met his eyes could she see just how much this affected him. A moment of wordless communication passed between them, and she knew he wanted her to tell them.
Stall and stay alive, he seemed to say, or maybe that was just her imagination projecting her own desires.
Because yes, she wanted to tell Valentina. Everything was better than being submitted to the Cruciatus again.
Maybe it was time to put her Gryffindor bravery aside and think like a Slytherin. Draco was very apt at giving people answers without actually telling them anything, as she had noticed often enough, and maybe, just maybe, she would be able to imitate him.
"Actually," she said, ignoring the way every breath felt like fire. "We didn't really manage to break the Fidelius. It is, after all, unbreakable."
Valentina slapped her across the face, a sharp, powerful hit with the back of her hand, and Hermione could already feel her cheek reddening.
"I have no desire to listen to your empty words. I want to know how you managed to make my house visible to all eyes. But cease your foolish yapping, I shall see it for myself. Legilimens."
On sheer force of will, Hermione managed to erect her mental barriers, blocking the witch's attack on her thoughts. It cost her much, though, as she was already weakened, and she could feel her walls crumbling under the pressure.
No, no, no! Not only would Valentina be able to see the entirety of their plan, she would also know about her and Draco. And currently the possibility he was on the Death Eaters side was the only protection Draco had.
Hermione redoubled her efforts, desperation granting her strength, and succeeded in keeping her mind safe.
"Impressive," Valentina then said. "Are you sure you're a Mudblood, and not some discarded Pure-blood bastard?" No answer. "How do I loosen your tongue without weakening you too much to speak... Let's try something different."
Valentina then turned her wand on Draco, whispering crucio while keeping her eyes on Hermione. Without looking at him, she had Draco screaming and writhing in pain, and Hermione knew she couldn't bear it.
"STOP! Stop it, please, I'll tell you!"
As soon as she saw Valentina's expression, Hermione knew she made a crucial mistake. The bitch appeared to be utterly delighted.
"How wonderful!" she exclaimed. "The Mudblood fell in love with the Malfoy. It's... pathetic really, that whole unrequited love-thing, but it does work to my advantage. Speak, then," she commanded.
Hermione closed her eyes in despair, praying to deities she didn't even believe in, and hoped Harry would hurry up and get in here already. Then she started talking.
She explained how the spell had worked, as detailed as possible (and, being Hermione Granger, that meant very detailed), stalling for time and waiting for a genius idea to fall in her lap.
So far, no luck. She could only hope Draco was doing better.
Draco was not doing much better. He couldn't even comprehend how Granger was still able to talk after all the pain she had endured, as he could barely keep his eyes open. But he had to figure something out, or there was no telling what those crazy people would do to her. And he could not let that happen.
He then tried something rather daring and irresponsible, and had a moment to realize how odd it was, that Granger was being sneaky and he was being brash, but he banished the thought in favor of channelling his magic. He could feel it crackling under his fingertips, powerful and uncontrolled, and then murmured a charm.
The ropes loosened. Not enough to be noticeable, but enough that he could free himself at a moment's notice. Next step: somehow find a wand and take out dozens of powerful wizards and witches.
Oh gods, he really wasn't trained for this.
"It's really interesting how much Runes have changed over time, and that even though we call them Ancient Runes, they are, in fact, not all that ancient. Because if you try to use those that are currently being taught, it doesn't work. Trust me, we've tried. Over and over and over again. First, we used the-"
"Quiet!"
For the first time that day, Valentina lost her patience and shouted. Hermione was not sure whether to count that as a win or just as the beginning of even worse torture.
"I am not interested in what you did wrong, you stupid girl! What Runes did you use?"
And then, as a gift from the heavens, the most reassuring sound Hermione had ever heard in her entire life, a loud bang resounded across the room. The wards were starting to fail.
"How is this possible?" Valentina asked, looking at the Lestrange-brothers. "You assured me those Blood-Wards are impenetrable."
"They should be, my lady," Rabastan mumbled, looking terrified. "This can't be happening."
"Obviously it is happening, you fool. Take the recruits and prepare for battle. You will hold them off until I have managed my escape."
"But-"
"Go! You should be grateful I do not punish you further for your failure."
"Yes, my lady. Forgive us."
The Lestranges left, followed by the majority of the other occupants of the room.
The odds looked significantly better, Draco thought, but still not good enough. He had managed to spot his and Hermione's wands, laying next to Valentina's throne, and was wondering just how powerful his wandless accio was. Not that it mattered, as he would be found out before the wands even reached him.
He needed to get more people out of the room, but how? It struck him, then; the DA-coin every Auror always carried around, sitting in his pocket. The coin he could access with an accio, as long as no one was paying attention to him. A quick look at the people around him showed they all were engrossed in Hermione's highly detailed story, and then the coin was in Draco's hand and he was clenching it in his fist while thinking: distraction needed, attack the back. He could only hope there were enough Aurors left to manage a diversion, and that those who were reading his message would not refuse to help because he was a Malfoy.
Seconds ticked by, painfully slowly, as Hermione continued speaking, when an explosion sounded from the other side of the house. Draco managed to hide his triumphant expression, but only just.
"Go check that out," Antonin Dolohov barked at three men and a woman standing behind them. They nodded, looking tense, and hurried away.
There were only five people left in the room now; Valentina, Antonin, and three young people, probably their protégés. Maybe, just maybe, they might be able to handle this. Granger was brilliant with a wand and they worked very well together, and the worst effects of the pain and exhaustion would be pushed aside by the adrenalin. Hermione's ear-piercing screams interrupted Draco's train of thought, however, until he could hear nothing but her sobs.
Apparently, Valentina had grown tired with Hermione's lengthy explanations and tried to hurry up the process. It was heart-wrenching. Draco was brought back to that day in the Manor, to Bellatrix, to his own helplessness. He couldn't stand it, felt as if it was his own sanity leaving him, wished he was the one in pain and not her.
"STOP!" he shouted. "In Salazar's name, stop it!"
An eery silence fell over them. Everyone stared at him; Hermione with eyes full of terror, the others with disgust and unbelief written on their faces.
"No," Antonin breathed. "The last Malfoy-heir, caring for a Mudblood? It can't be."
"I don't," Draco protested weakly. "I have, however, learned to appreciate her intelligence. Keep torturing her, and she'll loose her mind. She will be worthless. I simply think it would be a waste."
Valentina was observing him, her face unreadable, and he felt like she was trying to see into his very soul. "She will die before we leave, so her sanity is of no importance to me. I merely want a straight forward answer to my question."
"Would she not be of more use to you alive?" He was getting desperate, his cover obviously blown, but if there was a way to save her, he had to try.
"You're right," Valentina said, turning to her husband. "He does care for her."
"You pathetic Blood-Traitor," Antonin hissed, approaching Draco and grasping his collar. "It's a good thing your father is dead and does not have to see this, or he-"
What exactly Lucius would do was never known, because Draco had freed his arms from their constraints and managed to take Dolohov's wand out of his pocket. He then sent out a blast of energy powerful enough to lift all those in front of him from their feet, until they hit the ground with a loud thud several meters further. This gave him a few seconds of respite, in which he accio'd his and Hermione's wand before vanishing the ropes around her wrists. She was on her feet at once, adopting a battle stance, and Draco was amazed at her ability to even stay conscious after being tortured twice, let alone duel.
Valentina, Antonin, and two others had regained their senses and appeared to be ready for a fight. The last wizard present was still on the ground, blood seeping out of the wound on his head. He must have hit a pillar, Draco mused. The young man didn't seem to be breathing, but there was no time for remorse now. Now, they had to fight for their lives.
The first curse was cast by Valentina, purple and vicious-looking, aimed at Hermione. Hermione, despite her weariness, blocked effortlessly, and quickly sent two consecutive non-lethal spells towards one of the protégés. The first one the young wizard managed to evade, the second one hit him right in the chest, knocking him out cold.
Antonin, meanwhile, had taken the wand from the unconscious (or dead?) wizard, and engaged Draco in a ferocious battle. At first, Draco had the advantage; the wand didn't respond well to it's new owner. The last remaining protegée, a young witch, joined the fight, then, and soon Draco could do little more than block their attacks without having the slightest chance of hitting them back. Exhaustion was weighing him down, his wand-arm felt so heavy it took him considerable effort to keep it in front of him, he could feel his magic weakening, weakening...
And then, out of nowhere, a green Expelliarmus sailed through the air and disarmed the witch.
No, not out of nowhere. Granger, his brilliant, unstoppable little witch, had managed to save his arse while duelling one of the most dangerous people still alive, and all that without dropping her shield for a moment.
Antonin roared, enraged, and aimed his wand at Granger, an Avada Kedavra on his lips. This was all the distraction Draco needed, and he fired a Stupefy followed by an Incarcerous before Dolohov even finished the second syllable of the Unforgivable.
"Antonin!" Valentina cried out, obviously worried about her husband.
Draco quickly bound the disarmed witch, who appeared ready to fight him with her bare hands, and then turned around...
Only to find Valentina Dolohov standing behind Hermione, with her arm around her neck. Hermione's wand lay on the ground, useless, while Valentina's was pointed right at Granger's jugular.
Time stood still as Draco's blood turned to ice in his veins. He locked eyes with Granger, panic welling up inside him at seeing her in danger again, while she desperately struggled for breath with her hands clasped around the arm pushing against her throat.
"Throw your wand away from you," Valentina said calmly. "Now."
"Draco, don't! She'll just-" Words turned into coughs after a painful jab of Valentina's wand. Draco did as he was told and threw away wand, his one chance at survival, far away from him. How very unslytherin of him, he thought. His death was nearing, shouldn't he feel more afraid? But he only felt numb, unable to take his eyes away from this girl he never would have believed he'd one day give his life for.
And then, the strangest thing happened. Hermione winked at him.
He was sure he was hallucinating, at this point, as the situation seemed utterly hopeless. They were both unarmed in front of a very pissed of Dark witch, no Aurors in sight, so why on earth would she wink at him?
Hermione did wink at him, though. She had a plan, and with a little bit of luck it might work. All she needed was a chance, and then she would show that bitch what she was capable of.
Valentina pointed her wand at Antonin, to free him no doubt, when Hermione started moving. She lifted her left leg before bringing it back down with all the strength she had, with her heel on Valentina's foot. The woman howled in pain and loosened her grip on Hermione, who took advantage of her newfound mobility by throwing her head backwards against Valentina's nose. An audible crack testified to the force of that move, and Hermione managed to free herself from her enemy's grip. She pivoted on her feet, facing Valentina, and then threw her leg high to kick Dolohov in the stomach.
Valentina bent double, gasping for breath, and her wand fell from her fingers. Wandlessly accio'ing her own, Hermione stupefy'd and bound her, looking very proud of herself.
"Oh, the irony," she said. "Valentina Dolohov, claiming to be so above muggles she has nothing better to do than kill them, beaten by a simple muggle fighting technique. I hope you feel like a fool, now."
When she turned back to Draco, he was staring at her, awestruck.
"What? My parents sent me to a defense class during the summer when I was younger," she explained.
"I love you," Draco blurted out, shocking himself as much as her. But as soon as the words left his mouth, he knew them to be true.
And despite the pain, the exhaustion and the fear, Hermione couldn't help but smile so brightly her cheeks hurt. "I love you, too, Draco," she said. Draco's shoulders sagged with relief, and he too smiled. They stood there in the wreckage of their battle, staring at one another and grinning like fools. Almost simultaneously, they moved to close the distance between them, falling in eachother's arms.
The joyful reunion was cut short, however, when Hermione fainted as soon as Draco's arms were wrapped around her.
"Granger? Granger! Shit, shit, shit, I need to get you to a medic. Where the fuck are the other Aurors?"
As if they had heard him, an explosion tore a hole in the wall, and in flew Potter and Weasley on their brooms, brandishing their wands courageously. The effect fell somewhat flat, though, as there were no conscious enemies in sight, only Malfoy with an unmoving Hermione in his arms. Harry and Ron landed next to the pair in a panic, repeating Hermione's name over and over, only to be stopped by an angry blond who was leveling his best glare on them.
"She's okay, she just fainted. It's a bit of a miracle we both survived, actually," Draco bit out. "You're late."
And so it was that the new Dark Lord, who turned out to be a Lady, was beaten by one of the Golden Trio, the Daily Prophet reported the next day. Even Draco Malfoy's name was mentioned positively in the article, which was a bit of a miracle.
Hermione woke up in St Mungo's after eleven hours of sleep, feeling well if a bit disorientated, and realized that for the first time in months, she had not spent the night at the Manor. That for the first time in months, she was allowed to go where she pleased whenever she pleased.
Her days at the Safehouse were over.
Terribly sorry for the long wait, but I have exams soon and far too little time, and I'm going on an exchange to Spain in the spring which takes a lot of organizing.
This also means that it might be a while before I post the next chapter, so I hope you will have patience with me one last time. Because yes, this fanfiction is nearing it's end, with only one chapter left. I am not quite sure how to feel about that yet, but I know one thing: You guys are awesome! Thank you for your support, the reviews, the follows and the favs!
Was this chapter to your liking? What did you think of the battle? Let me know! Merry Christmas to those of you who celebrate it!