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Thirty-Six.
"Draco?"
Slughorn looked expectantly to Malfoy's usual seat. It was empty. Hermione glanced at it and looked back to the front of the room, fighting the stab of worry and guilt that ran through her.
Ron shifted in his seat beside her, yawning widely. Hermione fiddled with her quill, blinked, and let her eyes remain closed for a second longer than necessary. They felt dry. The night before she had dreamt of nothing but woke full of wonder at what she had done. She had met Ron, Harry and Ginny and they had met with Pansy for breakfast. They had talked and laughed and Hermione had joined in for fear of them suspecting something was amiss. Her eyes had frequently strayed to the doors, her stomach doing a jump every time they opened and she anticipated making eye contact with Draco Malfoy, whom she had snogged only a handful of hours ago.
She felt herself begin to turn red and desperately tried to think of something else to make it go away. Slughorn had begun his lecture and was pacing slowly around the front of the room, gesturing to the cauldrons lined up around him. Snippets of the lecture broke through the haze, and she latched onto them, realizing he had just asked a question.
"…would produce the desired effect?"
Hermione's hand was already up in the air.
"Yes, Miss Granger?"
"Wormwood," she said confidently.
Slughorn looked taken aback, but smiled in bemusement. "Not quite, Ms. Granger—wormwood would produce an entirely different effect altogether. Perhaps someone else would like to try?"
Hermione went red. Ron turned to stare at her, his eyes wide.
'Are you okay?' he whispered.
Hermione nodded quickly and looked away, her heart pounding.
That's what you get for not paying attention. The ONE time you drift off, and you make yourself look like a fool in front of everyone.
Pansy had given Slughorn the correct answer in the meantime, and once Slughorn had turned away from the class she glanced at Hermione and sent her a worried look, nodding her head upwards, as if to ask, 'What's the matter?'
Hermione shook her head. For the rest of the lesson she managed to keep her thoughts in the present and made sure that all the answers she gave were correct.
As everyone was filling out of the dungeons, Harry nudged her with his elbow.
"Are you alright?"
Hermione sighed. "I'm fine. I—I just didn't sleep well last night."
He nodded, and when Ron joined them, he leaned in close. "I've got to go with Dumbledore. He won't say where but I reckon we won't get back until after dinner." He looked intently at them both. "I've got a bad feeling about tonight."
"Me, too," Hermione confessed. It was the first thing she had felt upon waking.
"Blimey," Ron said slowly. "I thought it was just me. My stomach's been making knots since this morning."
"What do we do?" Hermione asked.
"I don't know," Harry said. "I don't think Dumbledore will want to stay instead. He said we've got to go today, but..." He fumbled at his pockets, grasping for something within their depths, as if he'd forgotten which pocket he had put it in. At last he pulled it out and held it out to the two of them, just as Pansy approached them.
"Hello—argh," she stumbled as they pulled her towards them and into an alcove. The corridor was empty, at least, but they would take no risks.
"What's going on?" she asked.
"Not so loud,"Ron said warningly, and her brow bent in confusion.
"What is it?" she whispered. "Something's happening, isn't there?"
"Not yet," Hermione told her. "But we feel like something's going to happen tonight."
Harry held out the bottle again at that moment, so everybody missed Pansy's face turn ashen. Her expression, however, betrayed nothing.
"Is that-?" Ron asked, looking at Harry's hand.
"Yeah," Harry said. He thrust it out toward them. They edged back nervously. "Take it."
"Harry, you can't," Hermione said. "If you don't know where you're going you're better off with it than us."
"I'll be with Dumbledore," he reminded them. "We can manage." He paused, as if realizing something. "You'll be needing the map, too." He withdrew it from his robes and set it down on the table.
"That's hardly enough Felix Felicis for one gulp, let alone two people," Pansy said, looking doubtfully at the bottle.
"Four," Harry said. "I want you to take it, too. And Ginny."
Even as guilt tore at her, Pansy couldn't help how touched she felt at the gesture.
"Potter," she said, weakly, holding back tears, "you're going to make me cry in front of everyone."
"Take it," Harry urged them. "It's still enough. A small sip for each of you."
Hermione reached out and took the bottle reluctantly. The gold liquid shimmered brilliantly inside the bottle.
"And if nothing happens?" she asked.
Harry smiled. "Then you have fun."
"Sorry, I'm still lost," Pansy said. "You said you're leaving? Where? And why?"
"I'm going with Dumbledore, I don't know where," Harry replied quickly. "It's to defeat Voldemort."
Pansy's eyes widened. "Wait, you're taking him on, just like that?"
"We're just looking for old stuff of his that can make him weaker."
Pansy's eyes were still wide. Her brows lowered a fraction in confusion. "Oh…okay…"
"We can explain later," Ron said. "There's no time—look, we're all going to be late to our next class."
"Shit. I've got to get up to the sixth floor. I'll see you lot before dinner." Pansy hugged them all in one go and then dashed off, abandoning the notion of going to class for something that was more crucial. She had to speak to Draco. She set off for the dormitories, praying that he would be inside.
After Pansy had left Harry turned to them.
"I've got to go. I'll be back as soon as I can. I promise."
Ron hugged him. "Be careful, mate."
"You, too."
Hermione wrapped her arms around him tightly. "Do you have the cloak?"
"Yeah. Dumbledore said we'd need it."
They broke apart.
"Come back quick," Hermione said, trying to smile.
"I'll try."
He turned and left.
Now both Hermione and Ron could hardly pay attention during Charms. Hermione spent the entire length of it silent and twisting at the ends of her long sleeves. Ron tapped on the desk with his quill incessantly to the point she had to kick him under the table a few times when he got too loud. They took notes sporadically, although at the end of the lesson Hermione's parchment was completely filled out and Ron's brief paragraph covered less than a third of his.
When the bell rang and everyone rushed off to dinner, Hermione grabbed Ron by the arm.
"We've got to find Ginny."
They didn't need to consult the Maurader's Map, fortunately, as they found her sitting at the Gryffindor table already well into her meal.
She initially seemed resistant to their request to follow them, but seeing the grave looks on their faces, she picked up her plate and goblet, said adieu to Neville and Luna, and they exited the Great Hall. (Ron followed suit and brought a large plate of food along with him, with enough to share.)
They found Pansy waiting outside the Great Hall, and she joined them eagerly, her face pale with worry.
When the door shut behind them in the nearest empty classroom, Ginny sat down to finish her meal. The rest of them stood around anxiously without speaking to the other.
"Aren't any of you hungry?" Ginny asked. "If Harry's right and something does happen, we're all going to need our energy." She picked up a buttered roll from her plate and held up it. "Come on, we didn't bring this much to eat by ourselves. If we just sit around and worry it won't do any good."
Pansy sat down and took the roll, and Hermione was the last to sit, sharing half of Ron's steak, although nobody finished their whole meal but Ginny. They ate in relative silence, periodically talking about what had transpired in their classes that day. When they finished, they stacked up the plates and with a wave of Hermione's wand, they were all made spotless.
"Why gather here?" Ginny asked, settling into the coziest chair in the room. "Surely we could have waited with everyone else in the Great Hall."
"If something were to happen, and we still don't know that it will," Hermione began, "it's easy to get separated when everyone starts running around. We're already together so we can avoid that. And—" she pulled the tiny bottle from her safest pocket, "Harry gave us this."
Ginny sat up slowly, her eyes fixed on the golden potion.
"Tell me he drank some for himself."
"He didn't. This is all he had."
"We told him he needed it more than us," Ron said, "but he insisted. Said he'd be with Dumbledore so they'd be alright."
Ginny snorted. "Classic Harry." She scowled down at her hands in her lap. "If he doesn't get back in one piece I'll whack him with my broom."
"Why?" Ron asked, frowning.
"I don't want my boyfriend to die, don't I." Ginny froze, and looked out of the corner of her widened eyes to look at her brother. She caught his stunned expression, and burst into laughter. "I guess you would have found out one way or another. Sorry."
Ron sputtered. "Y-you and Harry?"
"Yeah. For a while now. Not that it's any of your business," she said. "We weren't going to keep it a secret forever, but he was worried you'd get angry."
"Angry? Me? To have my best friend and my sister get together?" Ron stood, looking rather lost, and turned to Pansy, who was smiling.
"Did you know?"
"No," she said, "but I can see it now. I like the two of them together."
Ron turned to Hermione.
"Did you know?"
"No," she said, catching Ginny's wink behind Ron's back. "It shouldn't surprise you, Ron. They've had a thing for each other for a while. Why do you think they spend so much time together?"
Ron gestured wildly in the air. "They both love Quidditch?"
Ginny laughed. "Among other things."
"Eugh, Ginny, don't."
Ginny stood up and embraced Ron.
"We were going to tell you at the end of term. It's not that serious, either. We like each other's company."
"I don't know how I didn't notice it before," he said, chagrined, shaking his head. "I'm going to have a word with him when he gets back."
"A nice one, I hope," Ginny replied. "Remember, with Michael Corner? You don't get to put your foot in. This is my life, not yours."
"I know," he said, a little reluctantly, and when they parted, he shook his head.
"I can't believe this. My sister? I'm gonna kick his arse."
"Do that, and I'll kick yours after," Ginny warned.
Ron started to laugh.
"Oh, Merlin," he said in between breaths. "It was so obvious."
Hermione stood and placed her hand on Ginny's arm.
"I'm glad for you and Harry," she said, and Ginny beamed.
"Me, too!" Pansy said.
"Well enough about that, anyway," Ginny said, and sat down again in her chair. "I really don't like just waiting here. How are we to know whenever something's happened if we're cooped up in here?"
"We should go somewhere else," Pansy agreed.
"No," Ron said suddenly. "Harry said to stay together. Remember what happened at the Ministry?"
Hermione and Ginny looked down at the floor. Pansy looked around curiously.
"What happened?" she asked.
Hermione hesitated before answering. "At the Ministry last year, when we went to…"
"Fight the Death Eaters," Pansy filled in.
"Right. We went in a group but things got out of control. Everyone got split up. We weren't as careful as we should have been and Harry's godfather died."
"Oh."
"Besides," Ron said, grabbing the bottle of Felix Felicis from the front desk, and staring at it morosely. "Slughorn says this stuff doesn't last long, even you're taking a regular size dose. This isn't even half of one, and we're splitting it four ways. We'd be lucky if it lasted ten minutes."
"Fine," Ginny said. "We'll stay here." But she didn't sound happy.
Silence ensued. Ron began to peruse the map, watching for when Harry and Dumbledore came back. Ginny made herself comfortable in her chair and tried to nap. Pansy sat down by a window and seemed rather grave and lost in thought. Hermione had her schoolbag with her, and normally would have taken any opportunity to either read or complete her assignments, but was too distracted to do so. When she wasn't thinking about Harry she was thinking about Draco, and where he was, and what he was doing, and if he'd had as much trouble sleeping as she the night before.
He had told her that Voldemort had forced him to do the awful things he had done so far. Would Voldemort have him try to attack again tonight?
Her blood ran cold. She fervently hoped not. He had shown her the toll this all took on him. Once Harry came back she would find Draco and drag him to Harry, have him confess, and they would sort something out—if Dumbledore had read her letter by now, hopefully he would have some sort of advice or he would help them. Draco would be furious that she had told the Headmaster but it had been unavoidable. He would have had to find out sooner or later, and sooner was always the best option, in her opinion. He would have to see the truth of that though she fully expected him to be angry, but it was something they would both have to deal with when the time came to it.
Had he skipped the rest of his classes, or just the one? Or did he simply not want to see her? She should have gone to check on him, but she couldn't imagine herself trying to break into the Slythein quarters. Likely she would be found out before she'd even take one step inside.
"What are you going to do?" Ron was asking Pansy, who had begun to pace around the room.
"I don't know," she said. "I don't want to hide. I don't want to support them, either. If they come, and if they see me, they'll expect me to stand aside or join in."
"But if they see you with us, you could get in trouble," Ginny said, rubbing at her neck. She had fallen asleep and just woken.
"I know," Pansy replied. She seemed nervous. "Look, I know it's still speculation at this point, of Voldemort attacking, but I want you lot to know I'm with you. I don't want to go back."
"Back where?" Hermione asked.
"Back home," Pansy said, turning red. "My dad will push for me to become a Death Eater. My mum will push for me to become engaged. I couldn't visit or write to any of you and I'll have to pretend that I'm still one of them." She looked away. "Last summer was bad enough. I can't take it."
"Stay with us," Ginny said at once. Ron nodded.
Pansy looked up in shock. "What?"
"Mum won't mind," he said. "Now that Fred, George and Percy have moved out we've got spare room. Mum loves having people stay over. If you can tolerate the shouting and the mess, we'd be happy to have you stay with us."
"But won't they be able to find me there?" Pansy asked. "I've run away before. They can find me easily."
"The Order put wards all over the Burrow, since they visit all the time," Ginny said. "We haven't had an incident yet. But if you want, you could probably stay in Grimmauld Place instead. There's more people there."
"What's that?" Pansy asked.
"The Order's headquarters," Hermione explained.
"It's not as official as it sounds," Ginny said, catching Pansy's expression. "It's Sirius's old home. We've cleaned it up and made it livable. Duller than the Burrow, though. Everyone's always so grim when we meet there."
"Are you sure they'd even be okay with having me there?" Pansy asked. "My father is a Death Eater, after all."
"You're not your father," Ron said. "And we trust you. That should be enough for them, though they'll probably want to verify you're not pulling our leg."
"Oh."
Something strange happened then. A strange ripple went through the air, making them all shudder. The hairs on Hermione's arms stood at end.
"Did you feel that?" Ginny asked in a hushed voice.
"Yeah."
"What could it have been?"
"Explosion in the Potions room?"
"Ha."
They waited tensely for several seconds, but nothing happened. They began to relax again when Ginny abruptly went to the door and flung it open, standing in the frame, stiller than stone.
They all heard the faint screams.
Ron unstoppered the bottle, his face white as snow.
One by one the Death Eaters exited the cabinet, as it was too small and narrow to accommodate more. Dolohov came first, then Rodolphus, then Bellatrix, Crabbe, Goyle, and on, until a group of about twenty was assembled before him, shifting on their feet restlessly, looking in amazement or disgust at the chaos of the Room around them, wands already in hand, waiting for the plan to be announced. Draco's hands were so damp he had to consciously keep a tighter grip than normal on his wand, for fear of having it slip through.
Greyback was the last one through, struggling to push his massive frame through the limited confines of the exterior of the portal. He emerged, hunched over and crouching sideways out of the cabinet until he was free and able to stand at full height again. He looked at Draco, his coarse, wild beard flecked with droplets of rain.
"About time, pup," he said.
Draco nodded. His heart beat so hard he wondered at how it hadn't jumped out of his chest yet. They were all staring at him, waiting. Aunt Bella was looking around the room disinterestedly, her eyes flickering to the door every few seconds, as if restraining herself from running to it.
"Dumbledore isn't here," he said, and they fell quiet. "But he soon will be. I'm going to cast the mark over the school. That should hurry him up, but we've got to wait until he's here to leave this room."
"Fuck that," Crabbe said.
"I didn't come here to just stay cooped up in this disgusting room all night!"
There was a chorus of agreement.
"If we attack them now he'll come faster," Dolohov said. "He'll come running to protect his flock."
"We'll catch them all by surprise," Bellatrix said, clapping her hands with relish.
"No," Draco said angrily. "If we attack now their people will come and try to run us off."
"They will come anyway, Draco," Bellatrix said impatiently. "Like rats around a fresh corpse." She smiled, her lips pulling back to reveal a silver tooth amongst the uneven rows of yellow. She strode up to Draco and cupped his chin with her hand, pinching his cheek with the other. "You needn't be nervous, darling. The Dark Lord had half a mind to not let any of us come after all and make you go about this alone, but your Father persuaded him to leave the plan untouched." She gave his cheek a dubiously playful, light slap. It still stung.
"Dumbledore isn't even here yet," Draco said, swallowing his fear temporarily to respond to his Aunt. "What if he doesn't come at all?"
Bellatrix withdrew from him with a sharp laugh.
"He wouldn't dare abandon his students. He'll be here soon enough, I guarantee you. But if we don't give him a reason to hurry, he won't." She shrugged her shoulders and turned away to join her husband, Rodolphus.
"We can take them," Greyback said confidently, clapping a heavy hand over Draco's shoulder. "Don't be scared, pup. We'll take care of them while you go do your task."
Draco didn't feel reassured at all. Greyback's hand was heavy and hot on his shoulder, and it made a shiver run down his back that he had to try hard to suppress.
He opened his mouth, feeling beads of sweat form at his hairline, grasping for something else to say that would hold them all there, but the hand on his shoulder tightened. Draco understood the message.
"Now," Rodolphus said loudly, catching everyone's attention. "This is the boy's first task set by the Dark Lord. He has asked us to follow his orders to ensure success."
"Aye," some of them said. The others nodded.
Rodolphus turned to Draco, a slight, insincere smile on his lips. "Any words of encouragement?"
Draco's hand clenched into a fist. They were mocking him. They were treating him like he was a child. Would they even care if he died?
If he had the bravery, he would have defied them. He would have taken his parents and gone out of their reach. He would have never joined them, and accepted the burden of a task he knew he could never accomplish.
"No killing," he said, looking round the room to stare at them square in the eye. A good number of the Death Eaters looked displeased at that—even Bellatrix looked at him as if he'd sprouted wings from his ears.
"Restrain them if you must," he continued, speaking with enough force and authority that they could not doubt that he, at least outwardly, was prepared and unafraid. "Stun them, lock them up in rooms, I don't care. Just get them out of your way as long as you don't kill them. The Dark Lord won't appreciate the spilling of magical blood if they might be of use to us later."
There was a low murmur of assent.
"Shall we take prisoners?"
"No. We'll aim to do this as quickly as possible. Our main focus is getting to the Headmaster."
Strange, the more he spoke the more confident he felt. That was not something he was pleased to discover. Inside, though, he still very much felt like the contents of his stomach, however meager, were about to come rushing back up.
Bellatrix stepped forward, smiling coyly.
"And the Mudbloods?" She clasped her hands together like she was about to pray. "Let me have one, Draco!"
Never.
His mother had forbid her sister from bringing her slaves into the Malfoy Manor, but Draco had known all along just how horribly she treated them, if she even bothered to let them live so long as to serve her.
He was grasping for a reply when Rodolphus saved him the effort.
"You have too many as it is," he said to her curtly. "I forbid you from taking another plaything until you rid yourself of at least one."
"Three is not too many!" she hissed at him, baring her teeth.
Rodolphus struck her across the face. Bellatrix took it without making a sound, her head snapping to the left at the blow, but when she righted herself she was laughing silently, her silver tooth glinting wet with blood.
Draco fought hard to contain his disgust, remembering a time when he had been proud to call her his aunt.
"Let's go," he said.
Everyone set off for the door, almost as if in a race. Draco felt bile creep up his throat. He started out after them, reaching for his wand, hoping that somehow he could find a way to minimize most of the damage, but Greyback had not let him go.
"Your Father couldn't come," he said. "Not for lack of trying. Told the Dark Lord he could help you, but the Dark Lord wants him close until you've finished."
Draco frowned. Why would he want to come?
To make sure you're not leaving him for dead, maybe.
"It's better that he isn't here," Draco said, watching as the door closed behind Goyle. He turned to Greyback, who at last had let him go. "You made me a promise."
"Aye," Greyback said. "I'll hold it. But only this once. I won't steal your glory." He scratched passively at his neck. "How will you find Dumbledore?"
"I've got someone in Hogsmeade keeping an eye out for me," Draco said, fishing the Galleon from his pocket. "They'll send word when he's nearby."
"Best get to it, then."
Draco nodded. His mouth was dry.
The rain had subdued somewhat since the morning, but still fell steadily as he breached the Astronomy Tower. He wondered if Granger—Hermione had noticed the commotion yet. He had sent everyone down to the first floor, where dinner must have just been ending. The Death Eaters would find themselves amongst a heavy flow of students, and he found himself almost praying that his schoolmates would join in numbers to fight off the small squadron. He hadn't been able to see how it started, but had heard the shouts of alarm rising in volume as he ran up the steps.
He couldn't take too long. It was lucky enough that he had managed to come up here without any impediment. Coming back down might be a different story.
Pansy. I need to find her.
His alarm for her wellbeing wore off as quickly as it had begun. Pansy was in no danger. Death Eaters never attacked each other unless under order by the Dark Lord. As long as she kept hidden and didn't join the fight, he had no cause to worry.
But she had grown close to the Gryffindors, and he recalled all the times she had openly sympathized for Hermione, before he had even begun to see her as human.
She was likely down there now, in the thick of it.
By now his hair and cloak were wet through. He didn't care.
Draco thrust his wand up towards the air.
"Morsmordre."
The green light erupted from his wand and shot high into the sky before settling and hanging in the air, writhing, forming into the snake and skull. It glowed eerily, casting a sickly green glow over the roof and himself.
The Dark Lord would be happy. He was getting what he wanted, and Draco hated himself for giving in, but the image of his parents, kept as collateral in their own home, surfaced in his mind, and with one last loathing look at the mark, he turned and slipped back into the castle as the skull's huge mouth opened and closed, the snake slithering in and out, as if they were laughing at him.
"Merlin," Ron said, clutching at a stitch in his side, "we were right. I thought we'd just become really paranoid."
"At least we were prepared," Ginny said, raising her wand to shoot a hex at a tall figure that had just ran through the intersecting corridor, but recognizing the student robes the person wore, she hastily put her wand down.
They were alone in the corridor but the sound of battle echoed all around them. They stopped running momentarily to catch their breath.
Hermione had kept her eyes peeled the whole time as they'd run, seeking Draco. He had said the Dark Lord would order him to act again, and he couldn't refuse. Was this all because of him? Had he done this?
She heard the answer all around her.
They began to run again, and when they reached the open area before the Great Hall, where the noise was thickest, they found the commotion. Already there were several bodies lying on the ground. Hermione felt her knees turn weak. At the same time, the four of them recognized the forms of the Death Eaters spread out over the space. It was so loud Hermione covered her ears, wincing.
She couldn't tell if the Felix Felicis was working yet, or if it had already faded off in the time it had taken them to run all the way down here. The textbook said that when taken, it gave a strong feeling of happiness and optimism, but she felt none of that now. Was it because of the tiny dose she'd taken?
Ginny shouted something unintelligible out of rage and raised her wand. The Death Eater closest to them fell to the floor, and the hysterical second years they had been intimidating fled immediately, fighting to go up the crowded staircase.
Another Death Eater noticed, and raised their wand, aiming for them.
"STUPEFY!" roared Ron, and the curse hit the Death Eater on the shoulder, instantly rendering them unconscious. He made to run into the fray but Hermione held him back. He looked at her curiously.
"Be careful!"
He nodded, and before Hermione could let him go he had grabbed her and brought their mouths together rather aggressively. Hermione stiffened in shock. The kiss lasted only an instant—the next he was gone and Hermione stared after him, surprised and irritated, but there was no time to reflect on it because Pansy was staring at her, her mouth slightly open. Hermione looked around to see if there had been any other witnesses. Ginny was already gone—when had she left?
Pansy looked at Hermione carefully. "Am I allowed to ask?"
Hermione sighed. "Later." She promptly pushed Pansy away and back into the corridor, which was still mostly empty.
"Hey—" Pansy frowned at her. "What're you doing?"
"You can't fight with us," Hermione told her bluntly.
At this, Pansy's expression of confusion turned to one of hurt. "And why not?"
"If one of them sees you, they'll know you've turned against them. What if they decide to kill you or punish you because of it? I don't want you to get hurt."
"I know what I've gotten myself into," Pansy said impatiently. Her eyes darted around at the action behind Hermione, who had grabbed Pansy by the shoulders. "I thought you knew that."
"What if one of them out there is your dad?"
Pansy looked back at her. "Then he'll know the truth, at least."
"Ok." Hermione hugged her. Pansy held her tightly. When they withdrew, Hermione looked intently into her eyes and asked the question she had been holding back since the commotion had begun.
"Did you know this would happen?"
Pansy hesitated.
"He told me he was being forced to," she said in a shaking voice. "I don't even know what this is all for. I swear, Hermione. V-Voldemort's got his parents hostage—if not, we would have told you, I tried to get him to but he was afraid."
"I believe you," Hermione said. "But I need to find him. Do you know where he is?"
"No," Pansy admitted. "I haven't seen him in days. I tried looking for him earlier but I couldn't find him." Her eyes were filled with tears.
Hermione nodded, already mocking up a checklist of places she had to go look for him. Ron had taken the map with him, and he had already disappeared within the mass of people.
"Don't let them see you," she said, "and be careful. I'll find you as soon as I can."
"Okay." Pansy drew up the hood of her robe and ran back towards the fight. There was an extremely loud crashing and shattering sound somewhere off in the distance. Hermione gasped as the ground shook beneath her feet. She looked up to see the Gryffindor House hourglass had been dislodged from its perch along the wall and broken into millions of shards of glass and rubies on the ground.
Everyone was still fighting—Hermione scanned the area quickly, hoping to see either Harry or Draco, but found neither. Professor Flitwick was herding another group of first years to safety—many of them were crying—and he was clearing a path for them through the mess, knocking Death Eaters out of the way with magic, defending students who had their backs turned to a would be attacker. She spied Ginny and Neville dueling with another Death Eater, who seemed to be able to take it without much trouble.
Hermione stunned him from behind. Ginny and Neville paused, breathing heavily, and saw her from the other side of the room with her wand still raised. They nodded their thanks and ran on.
Sweat ran down her temples.
You're wasting time! A voice broke through her horrified stupor. Go!
Hermione turned and ran. The corridors had become more occupied by now—students ran through them, eyes wide in panic.
"What's going on?" someone asked her as she passed.
Two Hufflepuff prefects had their hands full escorting a large group of younger years away from the battle.
"But we want to fight!" cried a small dark haired girl.
"You're too young!" Hannah Abbott told her. "They've got more advanced magic than you—how are you going to fight against a grown Death Eater?"
When she was almost to the staircase, she found McGonagall coming down from them at an alarming speed.
'Professor," Hermione said quickly. "Is Harry back yet?"
"They will be landing on the rooftop soon," McGonagall said, frowning deeply. Despite them being clamped together, her hands were shaking, which Hermione found absolutely strange and terrifying."Albus sent word. I have already summoned the Order." She looked at Hermione curiously.
"Where are you going?"
"There's someone I have to find," Hermione said.
"I would ask you to go someplace safe," McGonagall said, "but I know that will not deter you. Be careful."
"You as well, Professor."
She squeezed Hermione's shoulder and swept on, moving faster than Hermione had ever seen her go.
When she reached the fifth floor Hermione set off for the Room of Requirement at once. Strangely, its doors had been propped open, and when she peered inside, there was nobody there. She moved on, this time to the Astronomy Tower.
So Pansy had known all along. She shouldn't have been surprised—she was close to Draco, after all. Hermione couldn't fault her for staying loyal—especially when lives had been threatened in order to keep the whole matter a secret. She would have done the same for Harry.
Loud voices caught her attention, and recognizing one of them, she ran towards the source and onto the landing. She looked down the staircase and saw a masked Death Eater engaged in duel with Lavender Brown.
Hermione began to hurry down the steps.
"Petrificus Totalus!" Lavender hissed, flinging the hex from the tip of her wand with a snap of her wrist. There was a long cut on her upper arm that had torn her robe. It was still bleeding. Her long hair had fallen out of place from the usually neat long braid she wore. Hermione could tell she was tired.
The Death Eater dodged the spell, laughing.
"Stupefy!"
The spell caught Lavender before she could move out of its way. She crumpled instantly, and the Death Eater began to walk over to her body.
Hermione halted and raised her wand.
"Repulso!"
The Death Eater was knocked off his feet by an invisible force and pushed off to the side until his front met the wall. He somehow managed to avoid hitting it with his head, however, and struggled to get up.
Hermione reached Lavender and knelt over her.
"Finite Incantatem."
Lavender's eyes opened.
"Thanks," she said. Hermione tapped her wand on Lavender's arm and watched as a wad of gauze secured itself over the cut.
The Death Eater was getting to his feet. Hermione pulled Lavender up and pushed her towards the farthest corridor.
"Go," Hermione told her. "Find the rest of the DA."
"But—"
"It'll be fine."
Lavender looked unsure, but ran off. Hermione looked at the Death Eater, whose mask had come off when he had collided with the wall, and dimly recognized him as someone she had encountered briefly during the battle at the Ministry, but she couldn't remember his name. He was blonde and had long teeth, and a grotesque scar that ran across his throat. Hermione saw it, and froze, her hand automatically reaching for her own throat, as if there were an invisible blade there.
"There's too many damn kids in this castle," he said, sneering at her. His nose was bleeding but he wiped it away and spat on the ground. "Fuck what Draco said—I'm going to kill as many of you useless little brats as I can."
Hermione felt her insides freeze.
"Obscuro!"
His eyes were covered by an eerie film of white. He let out a scream of rage.
"What've you done to me, you bitch?" He raised his wand quickly and shot a hex at her in retaliation—Hermione dove to the side. He was pointing his wand at himself, trying to get rid of the temporary blindness.
"Immobulus!" Hermione shouted, but his eyes had gone clear again and he raised a shield, deflecting it just before it reached him.
"Diffindo," he snarled, pointing towards her wand. Hermione moved it out of his crosshairs, feeling the aftershock of the hex rustle the sleeve of her robe. In the next instant she found herself flying backwards—now it was her turn to hit the wall. Her spine radiated with pain and she cried out, struggling to regain control of her breathing. She stood up quickly, and seeing him raise his wand again she turned her head, flinching when the window behind her exploded, sending shards of glass flying everywhere.
Her foot had caught on something as she tried to move away and she fell—she felt something cold and sharp scrape along her forehead. She could feel it tear at her skin, and then a searing pain afterwards. Hermione fell onto the ground, gritting her teeth to stop a juddering gasp.
She could hear the Death Eater coming closer. Her forehead had begun to bleed. She held her hand to it and struggled to rise. Where had her wand gone? She looked around in a panic, and saw it nearby, lying amidst a sea of glass. She reached for it.
There was a loud BANG and her wand was knocked farther away.
"No!"
Something grabbed at her ankle and pulled her towards the Death Eater. Hermione scrabbled at the floor for purchase with her hands and feet, watched with fear as the Death Eater smiled and raised his wand at her.
"Avada—"
Expelliarmus, she thought, focusing as hard as she could in spite of her terror.
The Death Eater hissed in pain suddenly and grasped his wrist—his wand had been batted from his hand and landed a short distance away from Hermione.
Their eyes met. Hers, full of surprise, his, cold with rage.
They lunged for it.
Hermione reached it first, and pointed it at him just before he landed beside her.
"Stupefy!"
He went limp, just before hitting the floor. Hermione scooted away from him and stood, summoning her own wand. For good measure she kept his, and stored it inside her robe.
She looked down at his body, and tried to even her breaths. She was sweating, or bleeding still, or both. It ran down the right side of her face in a hot stream. She pointed her wand down to the Death Eater.
"Incarcerous."
Ropes appeared from thin air and coiled themselves tightly around his wrists, chest, and ankles.
Where would she go now? Surely Dumbledore and Harry would have arrived by now. And the Order? She listened hard, but nothing had changed in the sounds of calamity.
Her skin prickled. She was being watched. Hermione turned around quickly.
They had been on their way to the Astronomy Tower when a loud crash drew their attention to the left. He meant only to glance at the source of the sound but seeing someone standing there, froze. She was unmistakable, with her mass of heavy hair hanging down her back in disarray, rubbish and dust clinging to it from various points as if she had been dragged along the floor. She stood with her back to them, her shoulders rising and falling rapidly as if trying to catch her breath. She held her wand to her side, and when he looked down between her legs he could see a crumpled figure lying there and the glint of silver on his robes.
Dolohov hissed beside him. "Little bitch."
Draco sensed rather than saw him grab his wand. He began to step forward, and in a blind panic, Draco reached up and shoved him away so roughly Dolohov stumbled.
Dolohov trained his wand on him instantly, his expression a mixture of shock and rage. Draco scrambled for an excuse. He sneered at Dolohov.
"She's mine," he snarled.
Dolohov backed off, nodding, but his eyes still holding a glimmer of discontent.
"Hurry up, then, boy."
By now they had caught her attention. She had turned, one hand to her forehead to gauge the severity of a bleeding gash along her hairline. She saw him and stopped, her hand freezing by her forehead, her fingers dark with blood. The look of relief on her face instantly changed to suspicion when she saw Dolohov beside him, still wearing his silver mask.
"Draco?"
His heart wrenched.
She looked down, saw his wand in his hand. She frowned.
"What are you waiting for?" Dolohov snapped. "Take care of her, or I will."
The look of utter betrayal on her face made his grip on his wand loosen. He whispered a word.
"I trusted you," she said. Her voice was low and full of poorly disguised hurt.
Draco felt his stomach sink. She looked like she had expected this all along.
"I'm sorry," he said quickly, not knowing how much time they had before Dolohov realized he had cast a Muffliato on him so he wouldn't overhear what they were saying to each other. She hadn't realized it yet—her eyes kept darting from him to Dolohov uneasily. "They messaged me just after I left you and gave me an ultimatum. Either I do this immediately, or my parents die."
She was silent, rage clogging her throat.
"I know I should have told you the truth but I couldn't. I tried, last night but I couldn't find you."
"You could have told me sooner," she demanded, taking several steps forward until she stood right in front of him. "We could have prevented this."
Dolohov started forward, ready with his wand, but Draco held out a hand to make him stay where he was.
Without looking at him Hermione pointed her wand at Dolohov and a moment later he fell to the ground, unconscious.
Draco didn't even react. There were footsteps coming in their direction.
"You're taking too long, pup," he heard Fenrir call out. "I can smell you there. Finish what you're doing and get moving."
"I'm coming," Draco called back, and she grit her teeth and stepped back from him to raise her wand, pointing it directly at him.
"Hermione," he said carefully. "I need you to trust me one last time."
"What for?" she asked, her nostrils flared wide, her eyes reddened and wet. "You threw it all out the window the moment you let them in."
"I know," he said, raising his own wand at her. "I'm sorry."
Fenrir's footsteps were almost on them now.
"Who's there with you?" he called as he rounded the corner quickly and came across Draco and Hermione. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, a strange growl coming from his throat.
Hermione narrowed her eyes.
"Incarcerous!"
Draco raised a Protego. It shielded both him and Fenrir but he felt the force of her attack.
"Stupefy!" she hissed. "Stupefy!"
He dodged those too. "Expelliarmus."
She stumbled backwards and her wand was knocked out of her grip and into his hand. He hadn't expected it to work. She appeared dizzy. More blood was leaking from the gash on her hairline.
"Let me have her," Fenrir said suddenly. His eyes were bright and he stared at the wound on Hermione's forehead longingly.
Draco glared at him. "Remember your promise."
"Aye, and I've kept it," Fenrir said, giving him an annoyed look. "I won't maul, her. Not yet."
He smiled at Hermione, showing all his disgusting, horrifying teeth. "Come to me, sweet," he said. "I won't let your corpse go to waste."
Her face went white. By now there was a clean stripe of blood that had run and dried down her face. Her hair was wet with it. Her eyes were dazed and she fought to stay balanced on her feet. Draco knew they only had a matter of time before she fainted.
"Leave her alone," Draco said angrily. "She's mine."
"No, I'm not," she said sharply, her words slurring a little. She edged backwards and away from them, even in her weakened state, knowing she had no chance against them without her wand.
"Take her, then, and move," Fenrir said, casting a lingering look at Hermione as he began to walk away. "I'll tell the others you got held up, but be quick. Let me know when you've finished with her so I can have the rest."
Draco tasted bile.
Hermione glared at him, and then at Draco, her eyes incredulous and hurt but she raised her chin, as if daring him to come near. Greyback laughed coarsely.
"How ferocious."
He winked at her from over Draco's shoulder, and then left.
Hermione shuddered. She swayed on her feet suddenly, and pressed a hand to her forehead.
"Don't you dare come near me," she said.
"You actually thought I'd do it?" he asked, hurt.
"No," she said. "It's just—you're a very good liar." She still looked at him a little suspiciously, and it made his heart sink.
Draco approached her carefully, both hands out and visible so she knew he would not try anything.
He held her wand out to her, and she snatched it back at once.
"Repulso!"
An invisible force drove into Draco's stomach and sent him sailing to the opposite wall, as if a giant had punched him in the stomach with their forefinger. He collided against the wall, his head knocking into it backwards hard enough that his vision went black for a moment, and the spell had knocked all the air from his lungs.
He heard an odd sound and looked up at once to see Hermione fallen on the floor, but struggling to get up. Scrambling back onto his feet despite overwhelming dizziness, he rushed to her.
"Hermione."
"Get away from me," she hissed, and having managed to sit up, pressed the tip of her wand to her forehead and muttered a spell that Draco couldn't hear. He watched anxiously as the deep laceration on her forehead began to seam back together, but the blood remained.
"How much blood have you lost?" he asked urgently. "Who cut you?"
"Don't pretend to care when you started this," she said, her voice filled with so much anger that he backed away. She turned her head to look at him, the blood vivid against the pallor of her skin. Though her spell had stopped the bleeding, she still appeared faint, and if she didn't get looked at by a Healer she was likely to collapse again.
"You need to get somewhere safe," he said after a guilty silence.
She snorted. "No, I need to go fix this mess that you started." She stood successfully and brushed herself off. She didn't appear to be aware of the blood on her face. She trained her wand on him.
"You can either come with me and help take them down, or I can restrain you and hand you over to the Order."
"If I attack anyone from my side, they'll know I'm a traitor," he said. "They'll kill me. And they might kill you."
A scream pierced the air, rising above the calamity of sound surrounding them. Hermione twitched, as if wanting to go run to the source at once, but remembering he was still there, stayed put.
Draco stood gingerly, feeling the back of his head for any damage, but feeling none, he withdrew his wand from his pocket.
"Let's go," he said, and even though she nodded and set off at once, he caught the mistrustful glance she threw at him, and it tore at him, to know that within such a short span of time he'd gained her confidence and then lost it forever, but there was no time to think on it further because that shrill scream had started again. It turned his stomach.
Hermione was finding it difficult to run. She stopped short, clutching at her head. Draco paused, and went to her. She shrugged his hand off her shoulder.
"I'm fine," she said.
"No, you're not," he replied. "You need to eat something."
"I can't eat at a time like this!"
"You've got to," he said firmly, "or else you won't be of any use."
She said nothing. Her eyes were closed.
"Hermione?" she didn't answer. "Hermione!"
"Shut up," she muttered, frowning.
Draco frowned in confusion and said no more.
A second later, something bumped into his shoulder.
"What—"
It was a large bar of chocolate. Draco handed it to her quickly.
"I wasn't sure it would work," she said. She tore the wrapper off and bit into it, chewing so quickly and dutifully he doubted she could even taste it at all.
She didn't bother to finish it. When she was halfway through she shoved it into her pocket.
"Better?" he asked.
She nodded, then she set off quickly towards the screaming, which had started up again.
They found Neville on his back, wheezing for breath. Tears streamed from his eyes down the sides of his face. His limbs twitched occasionally in aftershocks. Hermione rushed to him and knelt at his side.
"Neville! Neville, can you hear me?"
He nodded. It took a second or two for his eyes to focus and settle on her.
"Is he alright?" Draco came near, and Neville, recognizing his voice, looked at him. He frowned deeply in suspicion.
"Ignore him," Hermione said. With effort, she pulled Neville into a sitting position, and was surprised when Draco leaned in to help. Neville looked at him in shock.
"What happened?"
"Bellatrix," Neville managed to say. "Crucio. McGonagall broke it."
"Oh, Gods," Hermione whispered. "You need to get somewhere safe, and get looked at. Can you stand?"
Neville nodded and stood, a little shaky, but otherwise fine. He looked at Draco again.
"What are you doing here?" he asked.
Draco hesitated. "Trying to set things right."
Neville looked at him strangely, but nodded.
"I think we saw Madame Pomfrey over there," Hermione said. "She's tending to as many people as she can. Professor Sprout is with her."
"No," Neville said. "I'm going to find her."
It took them a moment to realize who he meant.
"You need to get looked at," Hermione pleaded. "I'm sure McGonagall has it under control."
"She's right," Draco said. "Bellatrix won't care if you're already hurt. She'll make sure you stay down if she sees you again."
"Then I'll get to her first," Neville said, and rushed down the corridor.
"Neville, no!" Hermione shouted, but he was gone.
"We've got to go," Draco reminded her. "The rest of your group is down there. They'll look after him."
Hermione ran a hand through her hair to push it away from her face.
"What should we do?"
He pulled something from her pocket and glanced down at it. Hermione caught a glimpse of gold and followed his stare.
"Why are you looking at a galleon?" she asked. "This isn't the time to count your pocket change."
Draco pressed it into her palm. "It's not just a galleon. It's one of the spelled galleons Umbridge confiscated last year from your group."
Hermione looked down at it and frowned. "You've been using it to communicate? With who?"
"People from my side," he said quietly. "They've been keeping eyes out for me."
Hermione looked at him warily. "How long have you been planning this?"
"Long enough to give me a chance not to fail." He paused. "You know I didn't want to do this. If I could have disappeared last night without repercussion I'd have done it. But I can't. I've got to at least try."
"What is it you've got to do?" Hermione asked quietly. "Draco, what is it?"
Draco only looked at her.
"I think you already know." He reached up, as if wanting to stroke her cheek, but put his arm back down before he could touch her. "And we both know how it's going to end."
Hermione said nothing. Her heart pounded. A slow, dreadful realization tapped her on the shoulder but she was too afraid to confront it.
"Come on," he said. "They're landing on the roof."
He turned to walk away, and frustrated, Hermione pulled him back.
"Come with me," she said. "You said Dumbledore's up there—you can explain it all to him—we can hide you somewhere—you don't have to do this."
He looked hesitant, frightened. Hermione reached up and pulled his face to hers, until their noses touched.
"Come with me," she repeated. His eyes closed. "We can keep you where they can't reach you. If you let us, we can help you."
Draco opened his mouth. He unconsciously leaned closer.
BANG.
They jumped apart.
As if having broken from a trance, Draco grabbed her hand. He brought it to his lips and kissed the back of it, where her scars had never faded.
"Will you help me?"
Hermione squeezed his hand in reply. Together, they began to run.
When they breached the tower, it had begun to rain again.
At once Hermione spied Dumbledore, being supported by Harry. They were both pale, harrowed looking, as though they'd been gone for weeks rather than hours.
The Headmaster was panting, his face tinged grey. He slipped on the rain as he walked, as his eyes were half-closed.
Hermione gasped. There was the sound of someone running up the staircase behind them.
"OI!"
It was Ron.
He had come to the top of the stairs, just behind herself and Draco, and was looking angrily at them. Hermione realized she and Draco were still holding hands. She let go of it abruptly, but it was too late.
By now Harry and Dumbledore had noticed them, too.
"Barricade the staircase, if you please," Dumbledore's voice rose above the sound of the rain. "It will not hold for long but gives us more time. I must speak to all of you."
"Professor, you've got to get inside," Harry insisted. There were scratches on his face and his robes were torn and wet through. "You're not well."
"This cannot wait," Dumbledore said firmly. "We do not have much time."
After a second's pause, Ron hurried down the stairs, his wand ready. They heard him cast multiple spells, and then the scrape and crash of heavy furniture as it was places in the narrow passage. After a full minute of this, he hurried back up to meet them.
Harry had finally noticed Draco, and stared at him coldly.
"What are you doing here?" he asked.
"He is here to kill me," Dumbledore said, as calm is if he were remarking on the weather.
"What?" Ron stepped around to push Draco against a column, his wand at his throat. Draco winced, but said nothing.
"Did he drag you up here?" Ron asked, turning to look at Hermione.
"No," she said, going forward to try and pull him away. "Ron, let him go."
"No, what for?" he asked incredulously.
"Hermione," Harry asked, "what are you doing with him?"
"A question for another time, Harry," Dumbledore said, and slowly straightened. He looked at Draco, who had turned pale, his hair dripping water into his face.
"I know you are afraid, Draco," he said. "Don't be. We are here to help you."
"What?"
Draco was still cornered by Ron, who's wand was one misdirected jab away from taking out his eye.
Hermione turned her wand on Ron. "Let him go, Ronald."
Ron released Draco, but kept his wand trained on him.
"What've you done to her?" he asked. "Take the Imperius off!"
"Ron, listen to me!" Hermione said hotly. "I'm not under any spell!"
"Please lower your wands," Dumbledore said. "He has come here to speak to us. Is that right, Draco?"
"Yes."
"What do you have to say?"
"I was behind all the attacks this year," Draco said, taking off his robe. Harry stepped forward, ready to restrain him, but Draco gave him a look and rolled up his sleeve instead, showing them all his Dark Mark. "I've been under Voldemort's command."
"I knew it," Harry said, raising his wand. His eyes narrowed. "I bloody knew it."
"Lower your wand, Harry," Dumbledore said, a little sternly.
"Professor—"
"I need you to trust me," the Headmaster said. "All of you. That means not attacking each other."
They all stood in stunned silence. The rain bore down on them.
"Did you want to attack your peers?" he asked Draco.
Draco shuddered. "No," he said quietly.
Ron scoffed.
"Not even when Ron was sent to hospital because of your attempt?" Dumbledore asked calmly.
"No, sir." Draco looked at Ron. "I put Slughorn under an Imperius to deliver you the poison mixed into the wine, but you interrupted me and the spell backfired. I never consciously targeted you, or Katie Bell."
Ron's eyes were narrowed with suspicion. "You poisoned me by accident?"
"You got in my way."
Dumbledore chuckled. Draco looked at him warily.
"Where are your parents, Draco?" he asked. "I have not heard of them for some time."
Draco's adams apple bobbed as he swallowed. Since he had taken off his robes, he was left only in his uniform. His white shirt was soaked; it clung to his body and had become translucent. Hermione could see the traces of his scars.
"He's got them hostage," Draco said. "Voldemort."
Hermione jumped. It was the first time she had heard Draco refer to his master as something other than 'the Dark Lord'.
"He's going to kill them if I don't kill you," he said. "And then he'll kill me. I'm not doing this because I want to. I've got no choice."
"You must remember, Draco," Dumbledore said, "that you always have a choice. I believe it was your decision to confide in Hermione Granger and seek her trust that led her to stand with you here."
Harry and Ron looked at her in shock. Hermione went red.
"What the fuck is going on?" Ron asked her quietly. She said nothing.
"Had you not done that, I would not have allowed you to remain standing with your wand while I am weak, pained, and vulnerable. I received your letter," he said, looking at Hermione, "and I trust your judgment."
Hermione nodded.
"It was your choice to become a Death Eater, was it not?"
Draco's voice was bitter. "Yes."
"And how do you feel about it now?"
Draco pulled his sleeve back over the mark. "I wish I hadn't."
Dumbledore swayed a little on his feet, and Harry rushed forward to support him again, slinging one arm over his shoulders to share the Headmaster's weight. Dumbledore continued to speak as if nothing had happened, though they all heard the small groan that had come from him. "You seek to escape from it, then."
"Professor," Harry said, his voice pleading. "Please, you need to get inside."
Draco frowned. "…Yes."
Albus's tone changed. "You have brought intruders into this castle. You have attacked my students. You attempted to take the life of the girl who stands beside you. Why should I help you?"
Draco flinched at the accusations.
From the bottom of the stairwell, they heard faint shouting echoing around the open space below them.
"I don't deserve help," Draco said. "I didn't come to kill you. Voldemort expects me to fail so he can have a reason to kill my family." He opened his fist and let his wand drop to the floor. "I came to turn myself in."
Ron's mouth fell open. Harry stared at it wordlessly. The lens of his spectacles were fogged and dotted with rain. His robes hung heavy with rain. Hermione, feeling her own sodden hair, pushed it away from her eyes.
Dumbledore said nothing for a moment, but stared at him calmly until Draco's ears turned red.
"I am afraid I cannot help your parents," he said at last.
Draco's shoulders slumped, but he nodded, as if he'd expected it all along.
"Your parents are responsible for their own decisions. I am more concerned with you. I have kept watch over you, and I have seen the changes you have gone through. I am pleased you are not the same boy I was ready to expel at the beginning of this term."
"Professor," Harry said, his tone a warning. The sounds from below were coming closer.
"Hermione," Dumbledore said, and she jumped. "Please accept my apology for not being there to deliver you justice last year. Allow me to say, however, that although you had every reason not to, you have shown true compassion and strength in forgiving your enemy, and I am glad to see unity bloom from unlikely places. Very glad."
Harry and Ron looked at her again, compelling her to explain, but Hermione couldn't bring herself to. Not yet.
"Thank you, sir," she said.
There was the sound of many feet running up the steps. They heard muffled shouting.
Dumbledore staggered again. Harry was having trouble supporting him.
"Gods no," he said. "Professor, hang on—"
"I am already dying, Harry," Dumbledore said, trying to smile in reassurance. His face was growing paler and paler. His eyes were moving rapidly. "There is nothing Snape or Madame Poppy can do for me."
Harry frowned. "Snape? What—"
He groaned then—and slumped to the floor. Harry gave a strangled yell and knelt beside him. Hermione and Ron rushed to them.
"Arianna," he said, his voice weak and dry. "Forgive me."
"He's hallucinating," Hermione said.
"What?" Ron said. "Professor, we're going to get you to Pomfrey. Just hang on."
"Who's Arianna?" Harry was asking. "Professor, just try to stand."
Hermione grabbed him by the arm. "Harry, he can't. Can't you see?"
Harry tugged free of her grasp. "Come on, Professor," he said, his voice unsteady.
Dumbledore gave another yell. It sounded as though he was in pain.
"Hermione," Ron said quickly, "have you got any essence of Dittany?"
"That won't help unless he's got a physical wound," she said, tears gathering in her eyes. Draco had knelt beside her. His face was ashen.
"Water," Dumbledore croaked. "Please, Harry."
Hermione transfigured a leaf from the floor into a cup. Harry's hands were shaking. He filled it and brought it to Dumbledore's mouth. He drank eagerly, messily, spilling it down his front. He reached to the side and grabbed Draco by the arm.
"Do it now," he said, and despite his current state, his voice was strong and firm. "Make sure they see it." He trailed off into a coughing fit. His saliva was red with blood.
The voices were even louder now. They could all hear the Death Eaters blasting apart the barricade Ron had set up in the stairwell.
"No," Harry said, pointing his wand at Draco again, his face livid. He uttered a curse.
"Harry, stop!"
Hermione's hand shot up and shoved his arm to point upwards, and his curse missed. Panting, he looked at her, his eyes full of betrayal. Ron too, appeared horrified.
"Stand down, Harry," Dumbledore ordered weakly. "That's an order. I am in pain. Let him end it."
"I can't," Draco said, shaking his head. "I can't do this."
His wand appeared in front of him and dropped into his lap.
"I am half gone already," Dumbledore said, his voice growing weaker the longer he spoke. They all had to lean in to hear him. "You would be doing an act of mercy, not murder." He began to cough again, his bright blue eyes screwing shut in pain. "Make your choice."
The last of the barricade was being cleared away. They heard a number of voices but could not distinguish one from the other. Harry had his wand in hand, looking as if he was about to tackle Draco. Hermione locked her arm through his to pull him back.
"He's not in his right mind!" Harry said, his voice thick.
"He's dying," she whispered to him through a distorted, shaking voice. "Oh, Harry, can't you see?" Tears stung at her eyes.
Draco stood at the Headmaster's feet, slipping on the rain. He was shaking, breathing heavily, clutching his wand in one wand. He stared at the prone figure, his eyes wild and desperate, lost.
"Please, Draco," Dumbledore said, his eyes, connected with Draco's then fell shut. His body began to twitch. Blood dribbled from his nose.
"I'm sorry," he mumbled. "Arianna, please… Arianna…"
They heard the clatter of footsteps resume up the stairs.
"Do it now!" Dumbledore said sharply, in between dry, heavy gasps.
Several things happened in succession, almost at once. Harry jumped up, his wand arm ready, the curse already having left his lips. Hermione and Ron pulled him down to the ground. His curse barely missed Draco, who had extended his wand arm towards the Headmaster, who was having trouble breathing.
"Look! It's Potter!"
"He's up here!" They heard someone yell. "They're up here!"
"Avada Kedavra."
The green light blinded them all. Hermione felt Harry lunge for Dumbledore, as if to shield his body, but she and Ron pulled him away. They landed together in a heap on the floor, but Hermione felt Dumbledore's body go slack only a moment before. She sobbed aloud, nearly choking on the rain.
"NO! GET OFF OF ME!" Harry yelled, writhing. Ron pinned him down. "PROFESSOR!"
"Incarcerous!"
Hermione's limbs were forcefully pulled together and restrained by an invisible force. A gag wound its way around her head and she screamed, tumbling over. She landed on her side and immediately began to feel around the floor for her wand as best as she could. Draco remained standing, looking with vacant eyes upon their Headmaster. The rain continued to fall.
"Hermione!" Ron stunned the Death Eater that had come through first. Harry was just getting up.
Someone else shouted another Incarcerous. Harry shielded himself.
"Sectumsempra!"
In the vivid green light of the Killing Curse that had yet to fade away, Hermione saw the tears coursing down his cheeks that even the rain could not mask.
Relashio.
Accio wand.
Relashio.
Accio!
Nothing happened. Had someone found it and taken it? Or had someone trod on it and broken it?
Ron ran to her side. He ducked from a spell, and crouched beside her. Hermione motioned with her head towards the direction of her wand, but he didn't seem to notice. He stared at her like she was a stranger.
Release me! She tried pleading with her eyes. Harry was still sending one Stunner after another into the mass of Death Eaters, but they were keeping him busy, blocking them all and pushing through anyways.
Ron frowned at her.
"Who are you?" he asked. Hermione raised her brows in disbelief. Tears filled her eyes. He paused, and stood, running to attack the Death Eaters that had broken through. By now most of them had collected onto the Tower, standing around Dumbledore's body. Hermione, still unable to reach her wand, shifted on the floor to get a better view. Draco still stood there, wand at his side. His eyes were vacant, shocked.
"You did it?" she heard someone tell him. The shock in their tone was confusing.
"It's done," she heard Draco reply dimly.
"He's done it!"
If the rest of them heard, they were too busy to notice. There were more people coming up the stairs.
Ron had been bound, too. She couldn't see Harry. Hermione tried wriggling up into a sitting position and failed. She let out a frustrated scream into her gag.
"It's them," she heard a woman's voice call out. "Block them out!"
Several rushed to the entryway, wands ready, but before they could even begin the Order came rushing through. She heard Mad Eye's roar and the intermingled voices of Tonks and Bill Weasley shouting out curses.
One voice stood out above the rest.
"NO!"
She had never heard McGonagall sound so upset. It made her shiver. Hermione tried wriggling herself upwards again, hoping someone would find her quickly. A body landed on the floor near her; she stared into the stupefied eyes of Dolohov.
"You again."
A hand grabbed her by the hair and pulled her up into a sitting position. Hermione yelped in pain and glared at Greyback, who had stood over her, looking rather pleased.
"I thought Draco disposed of you somewhere," he said. "Lucky for me he didn't."
He reached over to push some hair away from her forehead, and frowned.
"You healed it. Pity. You look better with blood on you."
Hermione looked around in panic. Ron had been freed, and was fighting someone. A purple bruise was forming on his face. She couldn't see Harry, but spotted Lupin narrowly avoiding a killing curse.
Greyback hauled her to her feet roughly. "Let's go."
Where?
Accio. Accio!
He pressed himself against her from behind. "Now it's done, I've got no promises to keep." He brought her closer, turned her so she faced him. He grabbed her by the head and licked her cheek in one long, harrowing stroke. Hermione cringed. "I think I'll start with you."
Even though her arms were restrained by the wrist and elbow Hermione could still bring them back hard enough to jab into his ribs. She did so, as hard as she could. The problem with Greyback was that he was sturdier than anyone this might have worked on. Her elbows did little damage, and he only chuckled.
"You get two more tries," he said. "That's my rule. But you'll want to space them out. It won't do to tire yourself out quickly. The others never learned."
Others.
Accio wand. Please, Accio wand.
His grip in her hair was exchanged for a tighter one on her arms.
"Be quick, now," he said into her ear. "I may not have those silly sticks you all carry but I've got teeth, and I'll use them."
Hermione tried wrenching herself away, looking around in hopes of catching someone's attention. The battle hadn't even slowed down. Equal amounts of the Order and Death Eaters lay on the floor, stunned or bleeding. She felt vomit creep up her esophagus.
Greyback shoved her. "Go."
A red jet of light flew narrowly past her, missing her ear by an inch. Hermione hadn't even seen it coming, but heard with immense relief the sound of Greyback skidding backwards, uttering a surprise grunt.
"Stupefy!"
This time she heard Greyback fall onto the ground. In the next instant, she was free. Hermione stumbled backwards, wiping at her cheek. Greyback shouted something in anger but his voice was drowned out quickly, and Hermione almost looked back, amazed that with two Stunners he was still conscious. Someone else rushed in, she couldn't tell who, and blocked him from following her.
Someone grabbed her arm and began dragging her away quickly. Hermione immediately went to claw at the offending hand, and found McGonagall there. She let it drop with relief.
"Did he harm you?" McGonagall asked intently, pulling her through the crowd and towards the stairs.
"No." They began to descend the stairs. McGonagall had not released her.
"We need to go back," Hermione said. "My wand—"
McGonagall looked at her sharply. "You lost it?"
Hermione felt like a child. She blinked back tears. "Yes."
"I will look for it. You cannot stay here."
"But—"
They'd reached the bottom, and in the sudden quiet, away from the constant shouting and screams, Hermione's ears were filled with a strange buzzing. It took a moment to go away. When it did she finally noticed Draco, lying bound on the floor, unconscious.
"Gods," she whispered, and went to him immediately.
He was still breathing, and unhurt. She dropped her head and sighed shakily.
"He killed him?" McGonagall asked.
"Yes." Hermione wiped the rain from her face and sniffed loudly. She was shivering, but pulled off her wet, cumbersome robe and pulled it over Draco. "Dumbledore wanted him to."
As she moved something fell from the robe and onto the floor. Hermione's heart leapt, seeing that it was a wand. She picked it up immediately and remembered.
"You found it?"
"It's not mine." She wondered if the Death Eater she'd taken it from was still bound and waiting, upstairs.
If she'd had this wand all this time, why had she not been able to free herself from the restraints earlier? Or had her Accio worked after all, but she simply didn't notice?
"It will have to do. Take him to Grimmauld Place. Lock him somewhere and see to it that no one speaks to him or that he does not escape until this is over. Go now."
"Wait—you don't want him arrested?"
McGonagall looked at Draco for a moment, her expression revealing nothing.
"The Headmaster would not have allowed it." She looked at Hermione. "He allowed him to kill him."
Thoroughly lost, Hermione frowned. "Yes. He…he was already dying."
"Then his plan worked." McGonagall held out her hand to Hermione and helped her stand. "He has been watching Malfoy for some time."
"His plan?"
"I will answer your questions later, when all this is settled. It is imperative that he is taken someplace else."
"I can't just leave."
McGonagall held up a hand. "Potter and Weasley are fine. I cannot trust that they will not harm him," she gestured to Draco, "if I asked them to do this. The Death Eaters cannot hold for much longer. Some of them have begun to leave already and the Ministry is on its way. You need to leave now."
Hermione knew there was no room for discussion, and she rushed to follow the command, even though the thought of leaving filled her with distaste. What would happen next?
McGonagall pointed her wand at Draco.
"Resurrectus."
Hermione jumped back in fright, watching as Draco, although still unconscious, sat up, removed the robe and handed it back to Hermione, as if he were sleepwalking. She took it gingerly and put it over her shoulder. He straightened, standing with one arm bent and ready for her to grab onto, looking rather like a statue than a human being. The effect was extremely unnerving, but Hermione went to stand beside him and grabbed his hand. It was cold as ice.
She looked at McGonagall.
"Grimmauld Place," she said. Her eyes were wet. "Keep him safe."
Hermione nodded. She grasped Draco's hand tighter, and turned on the spot.
A/N:
Reviews are always welcome.