Madam Umbridge Home for Wayward Girls

by A.Lovely.Villain

Hermione's life takes a dark turn after the death of her parents, leaving her at the mercy of a tyrannical Matron. Her new home is more prison than sanctuary, haunted by ghosts bearing terrible, bloody secrets. Though she's surrounded by troubled young women, it's the men in her life who teach her freedom comes at the greatest price of all. Victorian AU, Tomione, Dramione, no triad

33. Abracadabra

A/N: This shit is bananas.

---

We all must play our assigned roles.

Are you a pawn or a queen?

. . .

A steady pounding filled the corridor. The wall radiated with the impact, stones trembling as cracks split across the mortar. The Jabberwocky continued throwing its weight against the metal barrier, the doorframe slowly giving way. Hermione's pulse throbbed with each collision, fists curled and heels locked against her instinctual need to run. Her strength was sapped from the unexpected firefight and every precious second counted, but there was no point in getting a head start. She needed the Jabberwocky to see her. She needed it to follow.

A jarring crash made her jolt, the doors starting to buckle beneath the onslaught. Gravel began falling from the crumbling frame, debris piling at the threshold as the hinges slowly bent, the doors bowing out before falling forward. She leaped aside as the metal hit the quartz with a deafening boom, a dark shadow swooping free. The beast collided against the opposite wall with an enraged snarl, bouncing off the stone and shaking its head like a dog. Her lungs rapidly deflated as its red eyes narrowed, spotting her through the cloud of debris.

Time to go.

She pivoted, staggering with vertigo, and took off at a dead run, lungs and arms pumping furiously as she led the creature along the path Leo had carefully described. A right at the painting of fae creatures, the pointy-eared nymphs scattering behind bushes and trees as she brought the beast charging at their canvas. Left at the rose-gold suit of armor that promptly dived for cover behind a pillar. Another right at the forked path, flowers bending at the stem to hide inside their vases. Tiles cracked beneath pounding steps, growling breath growing ever closer until, at last, she found the bridge, bright with sunlight from circular windows lining either side of its interior.

Clouds spread in either direction like rolling hills, a nausea-inducing reminder of just how high they hovered. The stone path connected the Castle to a floating tower with a domed roof, a gleaming spire at its apex. She darted forward, boots clicking across the stone as she continued to study the structure ahead. Stained-glass covered its walls, making its purpose clear enough. Still, when she threw open the doors and emerged inside the massive Cathedral her breath stuttered, sight overtaken by ornate woodwork and stone carvings. Her gaze tracked upward to the curved ceiling and detailed buttresses. And then the Jabberwocky burst inside, wings creating a vortex of wind that whipped her hair and skirts into a frenzy.

It soared to the vaulted ceiling and circled like a vulture, smoke billowing from its nostrils before inhaling sharply. She dove head-first behind a pew as it breathed flame. The seat caught fire, wood blackening. Hermione crawled forward and heard the unmistakable pitter-patter of footfalls in the distance, followed by a feminine gasp. She glanced at the doors and spotted Padma at the threshold, eyes fixed upward in horror. Dawn appeared over her shoulder a stuttered beat later.

"Get out of here!" Hermione yelled, earning their attention.

But it was too late. The Jabberwocky caught sight of the new arrivals and wasted no time turning its flames upon them. Hermione scrambled into the center aisle as her friends ducked into the bridge, seeking shelter behind the dividing wall. She used the momentary distraction to frantically search the Cathedral for a weapon, waiting for a plan to take shape. Alas, the beast ran out of breath before inspiration could strike. It continued to circle, wings scraping the starburst-patterned roof. Hermione tried keeping it in her sights but became distracted by her friends peaking their heads in.

"What are you doing? Go to the main hall!"

Even as Hermione shouted the command she knew they had no intention of listening, gazes fixed to the ceiling as they tracked the creature's swooping movements. She shook her head, sensing the terrible decision to come a moment before her fears were brought to life as the pair darted inside, dropping behind the charred pew. Hermione choked back a protest and copied their movements, crawling to meet them. "Padma—"

"We're here to help!"

"You can help the others."

"Seems you're in more of a pickle at the moment," Dawn replied breezily, watching the Jabberwocky through the splintered wood. Hermione didn't waste time arguing, if they insisted on helping she'd make the most of it.

Besides, they got shite done as a team.

So she set her sights on the creature, watching it bang off the stone in anger. Bricks cracked but otherwise held. "The Cathedral is strong enough to contain it…" she mused, eyes narrowed in thought. "But that does us little good when it can fit through the bloody doors."

The Jabberwocky screeched before plunging low. They sank to the ground, black scales rippling like dark water as it sailed overhead, snapping its jaws and taking a chunk out of their shelter.

"Can we can barricade the doors?" Padma whispered frantically.

Hermione watched it circle back, swooping down from their exposed side. "I doubt we'll be afforded the opportunity." It opened its mouth wide, chunks of wood lodged between its teeth. "Move!"

They scrambled under the rickety pew as flames erupted in a searing ribbon at their backs, smoke burning their eyes and throats as they pulled themselves across the stone. The Jabberwocky's shadow glided past as they emerged from beneath the row, Dawn and Padma searching the air while Hermione watched a familiar figure materialize in the entrance.

"Holy hell!" Lavender hissed, echoing Hermione's earlier sentiments as she reared back with Mowgli on her shoulder. The Jabberwocky roared, turning its blood-red focus on the blonde. Hermione sank back on her heels and closed her eyes, attempting to summon her flames before the creature mounted its next attack. Embers sparked across her fingertips, gone as quickly as they came. Her muscles burned in protest, clenching tight as she tried again. Her skin heated, sweat rolling down her nape, but the effort was for naught. Her breath released in a hissing rush as she gave up the struggle, resolved to finding another plan of action.

The Jabberwocky swooped low and blasted the doorway with roaring flames. Lavender dissolved in a burst of golden light before bounding across the floor in feline form, Mowgli keeping pace at her side. They landed beside the group in another spectacular flash. The light faded and Lavender appeared with a vibrant grin. "Seems poetic I burst into flames entering holy ground."

Hermione smirked. "Glad you decided to join us."

"Sorry for the delay. Took the scenic route. Also, I thought you were still sleeping off your latest near-death experience."

"Please, I've had two more in the last twenty minutes."

The blonde tossed her wavy tresses. "Then I have some catching up to do."

"Hate to interrupt," Dawn hissed from her crouched position, "but are we going to slay this dragon anytime soon?"

"Hm," Lavender hummed, glancing upward. "I suppose someone has to, and my afternoon is wide open."

Padma crawled to their other side, Mowgli already perched on her shoulder. "Do we have a plan?"

A shadow passed overhead, casting their faces into darkness. Hermione peered up and instantly tensed. "Yes, run!"

Flames blackened the stone at their feet as they scattered to opposite corners of the room. Hermione grabbed a hanging tapestry with both hands and ripped it from the wall, holding it before her like a shield as the Jabberwocky directed its breath upon her. She yelped as the edges caught fire, singing her fingertips, dropping the smoking fabric and staggering back. She pressed flat to the wall and felt the air shift, skin prickling as though a presence stood beside her. And then a low whisper filled her ear, body locking tight.

"Catenary."

Hermione blinked, staring at the vacant space. "...Bernard?" Yet all she heard in response was the frantic beating of her heart and the steady roar from above. She turned her attention to the room, watching Lavender dive headfirst over a pew, narrowly avoiding a torrent of fire. "Does catenary mean anything to anyone?" Hermione called out.

"What, like the friar and the nun?" The blonde replied from behind the barrier.

Hermione shook her head. "That's The Canterbury Tales—"

"Of course!" Padma exclaimed excitedly, running down the center aisle to escape a wall of flame. "The vaults!"

"Vaults?" Hermione echoed.

The girl emerged at the head of the room, bracing her hands against the ceremonial dais and peering up. "The ceiling is an inverted catenary arch!" Hermione held her breath, waiting for the discovery to give rise to something tangible. "Mathematically it can only sustain its own weight!" Padma declared brightly.

"Okay?" Dawn prompted, finding shelter behind a jade statue as the Jabberwocky took aim at her corner of the floor.

"With a rough measurement of the room, I can derive a differential equation for the curve and approximate a force variable, accounting for acceleration of gravity—"

"Patil!" Lavender shouted, rising to her feet. "Play to your audience!"

Mowgli hopped atop the dais, yellow eyes reflecting Padma's wide grin as she shouted her conclusion aloud. "If we add enough pressure to the right portion of the roof we can bring the entire thing crashing down!"

"I should've known you lunatic lot would find a way to make things more dangerous," a male voice announced from the doorway.

Hermione spun on her heal, reeling at his sudden appearance. "Cormac? What the hell are you doing here?"

"Debating my sanity."

"Sounds boring!" Lavender called, swinging a candlestick holder like a cricket bat as the Jabberwocky soared past.

Hermione shook her head, still trying to process their newest arrival. "I mean: why are you in Wonderland?"

A thundering roar echoed off the ceiling, pulling everyone's gaze with it.

"I was killed by the Dollmaker, what's your excuse?" His shoulders drew tight as the beast slashed a buttress with its talons, plaster and debris raining down.

"Are we caving in this roof or what?" Dawn shouted, peaking around the statue's arm.

Hermione snapped to attention, grateful they had someone to keep their easily-distracted group on track. "What do you need, Padma?"

The Jabberwocky braced its hind legs against the wall and pushed off, cracking the brick in a spiderweb pattern. "Help measuring!" The girl in question replied, grabbing Mowgli around the middle and dropping behind the dais.

Hermione nodded, taking a note from the creature's playbook and pushing off the wall for a burst of speed, staggering away from the path of the flame. "Dawn?" She called, smoke filling her lungs as powerful wings beat overhead.

"On it!" Came the disembodied response.

"Lavender, Cormac—" She dived behind a pew as flames erupted at her back, singeing the hem of her skirt. She groaned at the impact, rolling over to beat the scorched fabric. "Mind keeping the Jabberwocky distracted?"

"Shouldn't be too difficult!"

"Yes I fucking mind!"

"Great, thanks!" Hermione called back, scrambling on her hands and knees to the end of the aisle. Her legs wobbled when she pulled upright, threatening to buckle as she took off for the doors.

"Mione, heads up!" Lavender shouted.

Hermione's steps faltered, spine compressing as she braced for attack. When no slashing claws or gnashing teeth appeared she glanced over her shoulder in question, realizing the words hadn't been spoken in an ominous warning. Rather, the blonde waved her trusty hammer overhead before tossing it across the expanse. Hermione reared up and caught the tumbling weapon by the handle, an electrical current infusing her limb the moment she gripped the blood-stained wood. She lowered her arm and gave it a twirl, the blunt-end catching the light, reflecting in her gaze. While it was certainly no replacement for her beloved blade, there was no denying the hammer was one versatile tool. Hermione nodded her appreciation and continued for the exit, the Jabberwocky unleashing a feral scream at her back.

"Where the hell are you going?" Cormac demanded from his rigid post beside the doors.

"Up."

"Up?" He stared after her retreating figure as she entered the bridge. "With a hammer?"

She paused halfway across, leaning over to tuck the handle into her boot before hoisting herself onto the nearest circular window frame. "With a hammer," she confirmed, glancing up. "By the way, I was sorry to hear about your murder." She swung her legs over the side, boots touching clouds as the wind whipped through her hair. "But it's good to see you." She smiled, then pushed off the stone and dropped out of sight.

Cormac blinked, staring at the space she once occupied and shaking his head. "I'm surrounded by crazy bints."

---

Draco swayed, light-headed the moment he crossed the threshold. He couldn't breathe, couldn't blink, couldn't tear his eyes from the bed and its sole, silent occupant. He'd dreamed of this moment, this joyous occasion when she was safely returned to him at last. But the reality of their reunion was far removed from the fantasies he'd desperately spun. This was a nightmare, more grotesque than anything he could have possibly imagined on his own. For her startling blank visage spoke volumes, telling a story he was terrified to hear.

"Hermione?" He asked tentatively, closing the door on Black's watchful stare. She offered no response, bound wrists hanging limp in their binds. He edged forward, afraid to startle her but desperate to get closer. "Can you hear me?"

She tilted her head, holding his gaze as he drew near. "I can hear you perfectly, Draco."

His heart skipped at the even pacing of her voice, the hollowness of his name on her tongue. "You know who I am," he murmured, feeling no measure of relief.

"Of course."

He paused beside the bed, unable to break her eerie stare. "Did…" A deep breath, though it did little to alleviate the crushing weight from his lungs. "What did he do to you?"

"Who?" She asked innocently.

His brows creased. "The Dollmaker." The air turned frigid as her eyes clouded over, drifting to a patch of wallpaper in a perfect imitation of Dawn's faraway stare. He dragged a hand over his face. "Are you…" Where to even start? "Tell me how to help you, Hermione." He sank into the chair beside the bed. "Please, tell me what to do. You always know how to fix things. I'll do whatever it takes. I just need to know where to start." He searched her face, the tracks of coal liner staining her cheeks, the pale line of her mouth. "Is there…" Then his attention drifted to her bound wrists and his shoulder blades pulled tight. "Christ. I can't talk to you when you're tied to the bloody headboard." She appeared lifeless as a mannequin, posing no physical threat. And even if she were out for blood, her slight frame was easily overpowered. He set his jaw with determination, decision made. "If I loosen the straps, can I trust you to stay put?"

The words triggered her like a wind-up toy. She sat straighter and nodded sweetly, eyes sparkling as her toes wiggled in anticipation. Draco sighed, fingers flexing on his knees. He knew full-well this was a direct violation of Black's First Unbreakable Commandment. He just couldn't bring himself to care. So he leaned forward, holding her hazel gaze as he carefully loosened the buckles on the first strap, feeding the leather through until her slender wrist dropped limply to her side. He watched her fingers softly curl and exhaled, tension ebbing as he reached across the bed for her other wrist. She held perfectly still, staring at his profile while he worked. It was then he noticed the straps were soldered to the frame, a permanent fixture. He shook his head, trying not to think about their purpose or the last time they were used. The sooner he got her freed, the better. And then her second hand fell into her lap and he sank back, studying her intently.

"Do you remember your parents?" He asked, eager to maintain her spark of awareness.

"Yes," she replied simply, the corners of her mouth tipping up a small fraction. "Why?"

"He usually takes those memories." Draco regretted the words as soon as he said them, watching the life drain from her limbs, body lax as a doll. He sighed, searching his mind for a topic that may awaken her. "You remember Potter? Weasley?"

She sat straighter, expression brightening. "They're my best friends."

His chest tightened, hope and fear warring within him. Don't ask, it doesn't matter, don't ask— "Am I your friend?" Fucking wanker.

Her lips parted as something in her expression tensed. "I…" Draco held his breath, watching her eyes flicker. Yes, I see you, luv. I know you're in there, somewhere. "I don't know," she uttered at last, seeming perturbed by her response.

He leaned forward, forearms bracing his knees, taking care to maintain a light and unaffected tone. "Are we enemies?"

Her eyes drifted anew. But this time they held their focus, lost to thought rather than the blank abyss. His heart skipped dangerously as he wondered what memories she was accessing, cursing himself for wasting so many years goading and tormenting her like a fool. She bit her lip. He held his breath, poised on the edge of sanity.

"... no," she concluded at last, meeting his unblinking stare. "Not enemies." A beat. "But we aren't friends either."

He fell back in his seat. "What are we then?" When she offered no further response he opted for another tactic. "Do you remember when we first met?"

The lines in her face smoothed, the words coming easily. "At Harry's twelfth birthday party."

"Do you remember when you broke my nose?" He asked with a smirk, pulse quickening when she mirrored his expression.

"At Harry's seventeenth birthday party."

Draco laughed shortly. "You sure we aren't enemies?"

Curls spilled across her shoulder as she tilted her head, each strand glimmering in the light. His eyes lingered on the sight, admiring its beauty even as his body tensed at the thought of the Dollmaker removing her pins and running his fingers through the strands as she sat still and lifeless at his feet. "It felt good to hit you. At least for a moment," she began, the clarity of her voice calming the brewing storm in his chest. "Until I saw the blood and felt terrible. I gathered ice in my handkerchief but you refused it and stormed away. I followed and let you yell at me some more and then offered the ice again. You ripped it out of my hands and told me to bugger off. But no, I don't think we're enemies, despite what you said afterward."

He swallowed thickly, her succinct recount unleashing a bevy of emotions he was ill-equipped to deal with. More unsettling, she remained profoundly unaffected. "What did I say?" He whispered, certain he didn't want to know but eager to complete the memory in all its gruesome detail, needing to share in this moment with her. She tensed, lips pressing thin. "Hermione?"

Her shoulders drew tight before she cringed, grasping her temples. "You said…" she uttered through a broken gasp, "You said—"

"It's alright," he interjected, reaching for her arm. "You don't have to tell me." He wanted to bring forth whatever was buried but not at the cost of a seizure. Seeing her like this was painful, seeing in her in a coma would end him.

Her gaze flickered up, bright and alert, voice steady and firm. "I gave Harry a book about carpentry. You said I should keep it for myself and build a husband since no man would ever have me."

He closed his eyes, hand dropping to her side as he grabbed a fistful of bedding. "I didn't mean it," he muttered, shaking his head in silent rage before meeting her placid gaze. "I was jealous of your friendship. Your bond. I wanted your attention and became a sodding prick to get it. You should have beaten the shite out of me. I certainly deserved it."

Her expression flickered anew, a familiar spark he'd witnessed countless times before. He braced with anticipation, breathless with hope. "Don't fret, Draco," she said wryly, the corner of her mouth tilting up, "the night's still young."

He released his breath on a stream of deep laughter, unable to contain his relief, this small token of joy. Her eyes warmed at the sound and for just a moment, a handful of fleeting seconds, she was just as he remembered. Brilliant and beautiful and scintillating. And then she blinked and her expression faded like a worn photograph. His heart dropped to the pit of his stomach as he watched her slip beneath the murky waters, a visible ripple distorting her features into a stranger's mask.

"I'm sorry, Hermione. I'm so bloody sorry." The silence swelled, pressing in from all sides. "I have to replace your binds, luv. Black will toss me from the window if he sees you like this."

She leaned into the headboard. "Well, we can't have that." Despite the playfulness of the words, they were delivered without a hint of teasing cadence.

He set his jaw, leaning forward and grasping her wrist, raising it to the post and slipping it inside the bind. "No," he agreed just as flatly. "We can't." His thumb swept across her palm, tracing the creases until reaching the delicate expanse of her wrist, feeling the steady thrum of her pulse, the warmth of her skin. "Hermione…" He swallowed, throat bobbing heavily. "Give me a hint, luv. Something. Anything." He searched her face in desperation. "I know you're in there."

She tilted her head, blinking innocently. "I'm right here, Draco."

The words hollowed his chest until his heart dangled by a thread in the dark, empty cavern. He set to work binding her other wrist, a tremor running the length of his body as her warm breath ghosted across his cheek. "We're going to find the cure," he stated, voice deepened by conviction. "For all his victims. I won't leave anyone trapped." He rose from his chair, fists clenched. "The next time you see me… I'm going to wake you from this nightmare." She sank into the headboard, lids drifting shut like a doll tipped on its back. His gaze lingered on her still form. "I promise."

. . .

The door closed with a soft click.

She opened her eyes, searching the empty room without expression as voices filled her mind, distant and muffled.

"Where the hell are you going?"

Her fingers curled tight, nails digging into her palms.

"Up."

Her pulse stuttered, phantom wind on her face and a kaleidoscope of color filling her vision as fantasy overlaid reality. She strained against her binds, adrenaline infusing her system. The leather groaned, cutting into her flesh. And then her gaze cast higher, to the ceiling, and a methodical grin stretched to either side of her face.

"Up."

---

Hermione grimaced, boots and fingertips clinging to grooves in the stone as she pulled herself onto the roof of the bridge. Wind swept her hair into a tangled frenzy, the atmosphere slowly churning as though gathering a storm. The clouds looked like whipped topping and blocked her view of the ground, the fluffy layer reflecting the suns in every shade of pink and orange. The sherbert sea extended to the horizon, only one structure peaking through. The very top of Tower Bridge, rusted cables overrun with vines and wildflowers, a desolate relic of a world long-forgotten.

Poised atop a floating fortress in the middle of nowhere, the precariousness of her situation hit her all at once, delivering with it a powerful sense of disconnect that left her shaking her head, separating from her body for a terrifying beat. She clung to the smooth stone and focused on her breathing, the floating sensation ceasing as quickly as it arose. She took a moment to steady herself before slowly standing, bracing her feet apart as another treacherous breeze caught her skirts like wind in a sail.

The domed cap of the Cathedral stood just ahead, its apex reaching ten meters higher than the bridge. She searched for a decent foothold along the curved surface but was distracted by the Jabberwocky's bone-piercing scream, the sound immediately chased by Lavender's tittering laugh and the rapid pounding of boots.

"Mione!" The blonde shouted from the bridge. "How's it going up there?"

Hermione sighed, moving towards the dome. "It's going," she groaned, carefully climbing onto the perimeter ledge. And then a glass-shattering shriek filled the air and she promptly dismounted, pacing to the edge of the roof. "Who's screaming?"

Lavender popped her head through the circular window, hair flowing in the breeze, surrounding her smiling visage like a golden aura. "Cormac."

"Oh. Good." Hermione gathered her billowing curls over one shoulder, trying to contain the chaos. "Are we stressing him out?"

"Just a bit. No worries, he loves the attention. Also, Padma worked her genius and figured out the targets."

Hermione raised a brow. "That was fast."

"I know. So naturally, she's upset it took so long." Lavender leaned out further, shouting above the explosive sounds from inside the Cathedral. "Aim for the keystone voussoirs—" Her words were smothered by another wail of terror. Smoke seeped from the windows, floating up and making Hermione's nose twitch.

"Bloody hell!" Dawn's voice carried on the pungent cloud. "Must you scream directly into my ear?"

"You're all out of your bloody minds!" Cormac scathed.

Hermione ignored the interruption. "What's a keystone voussoir?" Lavender shrugged in response. "Shite," Hermione hissed, rubbing her forehead. "We need Hannah, or an architectural glossary."

"Just a tick!" The blonde called cheerily before disappearing from view. A faint hum filled the void of her absence, drawing Hermione's gaze to the clouds. Her body grew tense as she searched for the source of the sound, seeing nothing beyond the swirling clouds. The noise grew louder, coarser, purring like a massive cat —or an engine, a distant part of her mind whispered— and then it faded with the wind. She released a slow breath, fingers curling tight as the sky darkened to a deep rosy hue.

"Hermione?"

She gasped, concentration broken by a new voice. "Above you!"

A faint shuffling and then Padma's head and shoulders emerged from the same window Lavender had occupied. "There are two target points," the young woman began, "start with the center rise so you don't fall in."

Hermione sighed at the prospect. After her tumble on the floating teacups, she was quite fond of keeping her feet on the ground. "In that case, use small words so I don't screw up."

"Aim a blow for the middle of the crown where the stones meet," Padma explained. "The vault will crack but the mass of the abutment will hold. Navigate back to the bridge and aim a second strike to the springer." She interpreted the blankness of Hermione's stare correctly, laying forth what she obviously considered layman's terms. "Hit the first stone above the pier. This will counteract the lateral thrust at the haunches and buckle the dome from the center."

Hermione blinked, swaying with the wind. "Padma… how are you so bloody smart?"

"I read a lot," the girl replied with a delicate blush.

Hermione shook her head in awe, carefully sorting through the instructions as she edged closer to the roof. "You're sure it will hold after the first blow?"

"If my calculations are correct."

It was all the assurance needed. Padma wielded numbers like Tom wielded a scalpel, instilling Hermione with absolute faith in her friend's plan. Now she just had to execute it without killing anyone, herself included. "After the first strike I want you all on the bridge," Hermione called down. "I'll aim the second blow before the Jabberwocky can follow."

"Be careful," Padma warned. "The roof will tear down the buttresses and part of the wall may follow."

Hermione turned to the dome, directing her words over her shoulder. "Make sure to tell the others. Though you may have to write it down for Dawn, Cormac likely shattered her eardrums."

"See you soon," Padma bid with a reluctant grin before charging headlong for the battle raging inside.

Hermione pressed her hands to the Cathedral roof, the stones cool beneath her palms. And then she listed forward, overtaken by the strange and weightless vertigo from earlier. She closed her eyes, lungs hitching as a vivid image flashed behind her lids, a dusty and desolate bedroom crawling with shadows… The image dissolved with a sharp inhale and her eyes snapped open, blinking dazedly at the smooth brick. As tempting as it was to linger on the anomaly, she pushed the disturbing occurrence aside. One crisis at a time.

The Jabberwocky continued to rage, banging off the walls with a muffled roar. The commotion faded to the background as she gripped the stone ribbing and began a slow upward crawl. Her thigh muscles were twitching by the time she reached the halfway point. She released the brick, taking a moment to catch her breath and flex her fingers before resuming the climb. The summit was adorned with a narrow metal spire. She kept low and squinted against the wind until reaching the gleaming apex, holding her breath and carefully extracting the hammer from her boot. Her lungs burned as she raised it overhead, swaying with the force of her heartbeat.

Three… two…

She drove the hammer down with all her might, hitting the base of the spire and snapping it clean off in a blinding flash of orange. The rod hit the stone with a heavy thud and began to roll, scraping loudly before falling off the side of the roof and plunging into the clouds. Hermione sighed, rolling her shoulders back and winding up a second strike, bracing her knees apart before hitting the dome dead center. She gasped as cracks appeared along the smooth surface, bricks shifting beneath her weight, and held perfectly still, afraid to exhale.

Shite shite shite shite shite…

Seconds bled away with agonizing slowness. But the roof held.

"Okay…" she whispered through clenched teeth. "It's okay." Her fingertips were white against the wooden handle, ankle twitching as she carefully unfolded her legs and positioned a foot atop a smooth portion of the roof. Every movement was slow and measured as though gliding across a frozen lakebed, the ice set to shatter at the slightest provocation. Her eyes flickered down, debating the swiftest and least idiotic route to the bridge, but her plans were violently curtailed by the voice filling her mind without warning, so clear and distinct she was certain he stood on the roof beside her.

"We're going to fix this, Hermione. For all his victims. I won't leave anyone trapped."

She shrieked, losing her footing in shock and skidding down the curved surface, hammer slipping from her grip. Her lungs seized, strangled by a silent scream as she landed atop the perimeter ledge, clinging desperately before she could topple over the side. The hammer wasn't so lucky, bouncing off the stone and plummeting for the clouds. She lunged on instinct, grasping for the spinning handle and catching the very end with the tips of her fingers. Her chest ached as she released a hysterical laugh, hanging halfway off the ledge and clutching her prize with both hands.

The wind turned violent, blowing her hair across her face in a thick carpet. She pushed the curls away to stare at the churning clouds, certain they were growling in outrage over being denied their meal. "Not today," she muttered to the charged air before turning her attention to the bridge. She couldn't draw a proper breath until Dawn and Cormac appeared, Padma and Lavender materializing a heartbeat later with Mowgli in tow, the wayward group cutting a blurring path past the circular windows. A vibrating roar chased at their heels, orange flames reflected across their backs as the Jabberwocky's fiery breath erupted from the doors of the Cathedral.

Hermione reared back from the ledge, clutching the hammer with both hands and frantically searching out the second strike zone. The first stone above the pier the first stone above the pier… What the bloody hell is a pier? She shook her head and braced her knees apart before swinging the hammer with all her strength, shattering what she hoped was the correct brick to pieces. The result was instantaneous. Deep fissures appeared from the base of the dome to the summit in lightning bolt patterns, the stone-shell cracking like an egg. The brick began to fall inward from the center as though pulled by a rip-cord, creating vibrations from her ears to her toes. The explosion was deafening, masking the Jabberwocky's shrill cry as boulder-sized stones crashed and split, dust rising like smoke in the air.

Hermione scrambled back but the debris clouded her eyes and airway, choking her lungs and blurring her vision until she nearly toppled off the side of the ledge in her blind haste. The wall she perched atop trembled, its only warning before folding like a house of cards, Hermione toppling with it.

She dropped like a dead weight, screaming and scrambling desperately before accidentally turning the claw of the hammer into a pickaxe, effectively slowing her descent down the crumbling wall. She caught a foothold on a chunk of wreckage and gracelessly toppled onto the rubble. The dust cloud was so thick she couldn't see her hand in front of her face or hear beyond the blood surging through her ears. She was only certain she'd reached the bottom when her hair fell across her shoulders and her skirts fanned around her legs.

The rest of the debris slowly settled, everything eerily quiet and still. She glanced around frantically, one hand gripping the hammer while the other pressed flat to her chest, centered over her thrumming heart. She was sprawled at the center of the Cathedral, sunlight filtering through the dust in thin beams, illuminating mounds of stone and wood. Stray rubble continued to fall, loose bricks hitting the piles with echoing cracks. The mound beside her began to undulate. She swallowed heavily, throat stinging with dust. A rumbling groan filtered through the jagged bricks, low and strained, the whine of a dying animal. Her chest felt tight, the pollution suffocating as she spotted a pair of red eyes at the base of the mountain, glowing from the shadows. She held its gaze and listened to its labored breathing, watching the bricks rise and fall with every pained exhale. The sound turned shallow, slower, until a final hiss of steam escaped its nostrils and the rocks settled at last. The glow faded from its crimson gaze, pupils rapidly expanding.

"Mione!" Lavender called from the bridge. "Where the hell are you?" Hermione drew in a gasping breath, still fixated on the dull red eyes when a large shadow passed overhead, rippling across the stones like a dark wave. "Hermione Fucking Granger, answer me this bloody instant!"

Hermione glanced up, gaze narrowed against the sun and dust-drenched sky, braced for whatever madness the Dollmaker had in store for them next. Stones toppled in the distance as her friends scrambled over the rubble. "Over here!" She called at last, still searching the clouds.

"Christ!" Lavender yelled. "You had me scared shiteless!"

Hermione tensed, spotting the edge of a black shape against the pastel backdrop. She pushed dust-ridden curls from her face, hoping to clear her sight. Yet when her vision settled the object remained, slowly moving across the sky in an unmistakable silhouette. "Oh my god," she whispered, wondering if she'd suffered a blow to the head on her way down. But the possibility of a hallucination was quickly dispelled by Cormac's shocked utterance.

"It can't be real."

Rocks tumbled and bounced as Lavender navigated the wreckage, making her way to Hermione's side while peering through the open roof. "Mione…" she breathed, sounding properly floored for the first time since arriving at the Castle. "Are you seeing this?"

Hermione braced her knees and attempted to stand, never taking her eyes from the massive airship sailing overhead. Black smoke billowed from its steam engine, gears purring loudly as wind bowed its massive sails. Once it was in position above the Castle it began to hover, movement appearing on deck. Hermione swayed, steadied by Lavender's hand on her arm, watching in silent horror as faceless soldiers piled out of the cargo-hold and crowded the railing.

"Everyone," she announced without ceremony, the massive shadow overtaking their faces, "prepare for battle." The soldiers began climbing over the side of the ship and jumping overboard, careening into freefall before pulling the cables attached to their packs. White parachutes burst free and filled the sky like snowy feathers, guiding their descent to the Castle grounds. Hermione set her jaw, eyes burning in the darkness. "We're under siege."

---

Padma gathered her voluminous skirts in both hands and tore down the hall, Dawn and Mowgli keeping pace beside her. As they flew around the corner she caught sight of the window ahead, view overcome by parachutes. "This is it," she panted, slowing before the glass to watch faceless men drop from the airship in droves. "He's brought them all. This is his final push. He won't hold back."

"Then neither will we," Dawn stated with conviction.

Padma nodded, feeling Mowgli scale the torn and scorched fabric of her once-immaculate gown. "Warn Merope," she instructed, shoulders drawing level as he perched atop.

"What will you do?"

Padma smirked, meeting her companion's curious stare. "Put my books to use, of course."

---

Hermione charged past the circular windows and stumbled in her haste, en route to breaking her fall with her face when a hand pulled her upright. She glanced sideways, expecting to see Lavender, blinking in surprise at Cormac's annoyed visage. "Thanks," she muttered, taking a quick inventory of his burnt and shredded attire, sweat glistening across his face while dust and debris cast his hair gray.

"Happy to assist," he scathed, releasing her arm to wipe his palm clean on blood-stained trousers. "Also, you owe me a new suit, assuming the resident tailor hasn't been eaten. Now can we please run for our lives?"

She exchanged a loaded glance with Lavender, the girl waiting for them at the mouth of the bridge after sending Dawn and Padma ahead to warn the others.

Cormac glanced between them, eyes narrowing. "You've got to be kidding."

"There's nowhere to run," Hermione stated plainly, gesturing to the rapidly descending parachutes beyond the windows. "Once they get inside our only option is to fight or die."

"Die multiple times, actually," Lavender offered brightly. "Thanks to Wonderland's whimsical power of resurrection. Unless we end up in limbo, aimlessly wandering through darkness for all eternity."

He rubbed his brow. "Why couldn't I have just gone to hell? Surely it's less of a mind fuck."

"Undoubtedly," Hermione agreed, withdrawing the hammer from her boot and holding it out to its rightful owner. "Now pick a weapon or a hiding spot. Just do it fast."

He shook his head as Lavender skipped forward and accepted the handle, giving it a deft twirl before bouncing excitedly. Hermione paced back to the mouth of the Cathedral, barricaded by debris, and set to work searching for a suitable means of defense. She settled on a portion of busted window frame, a jagged chunk of glass still attached to one end, curved and catching the light. She weighed it in her palms, giving it a few cursory swings to make certain the glass held in place, feeling like the grim reaper wielding his trusty scythe.

"You used to be terrified of your own shadow," Cormac mused, watching her slash the air.

She lowered the weapon to her side and met his gaze. "It wasn't the shadows I feared, it was the monsters living inside them." She paused, contemplating her words. "Now the monsters fear me I suppose."

He tilted his head, inspecting her anew. And then Lavender's booming announcement filled the bridge. "Incoming!"

Their heads snapped up as feet struck the roof, a discarded parachute slipping over the side and falling past the window. Another set of boots followed, quickly pacing to edge as their owner tried scaling the wall. Hermione and Lavender burst into action, moving in silent tandem as they poised on opposite sides of the corridor and readied for battle. More jumpers landed, trying to climb through the circular windows only to have their efforts met with a hammer to the kneecap or glass shard to the ankle. They lost their grip one by one, thrashing limbs swallowed by the darkening clouds.

Yet in all the chaos a soldier managed to slip inside, Cormac's panicked shout alerting Hermione to his arrival. She promptly abandoned her post, spotting McLaggen pinned to the wall by a hand to his throat, face blistering as he gasped and sputtered for breath. She rushed to his aid, slashing his faceless attacker across the back with her makeshift scythe, cringing as the jagged-edge scraped against spinal cord. He dropped like a sack of bleeding grain, spraying a crimson mist on his way down. Cormac pushed away from the wall, coughing violently as he staggered around the body, face and chest glistening with blood splatter. His eyes flickered to Hermione, voice thin with strain. "Now you definitely owe me a new suit."

Lavender dashed past in a blur of flowing hair and skirts, aiming a well-placed hammer strike to a faceless man's chest and launching him through the window. "Fight or hide, babe," she told her sometimes-beau with a twirl of her hammer. "Either way, stop talking."

He scowled in response, rubbing his bruised throat and sagging against the wall. The bridge stood clear, its roof silent. A quick glance through the window revealed why. The parachuters set their sights on the courtyard at the heart of the fortress. Hermione gripped the ledge and watched them land by the dozens, packs abandoned in a heap before scurrying through one of the many doorways. "We have to get down there," she announced, turning on her heel and running for the Castle, Lavender giving immediate chase.

"Wait!" Cormac shouted from the wall, both women ignoring the command.

"Hide, McLaggen!" Hermione called over her shoulder.

"I know a secret passage!" Their steps faltered at the unexpected announcement, heads turning at last. "You can come right up from under the ugly bastards," he continued, rubbing his throat all the while. "Assuming you're committed to dying horrifically."

The girls shared a brazen glance and wide grins to match. "Alright, babe," Lavender relented, facing forward with an arched brow. "Keep talking."

---

Dawn staggered into the crowded main hall and leaned against a pillar, struggling to catch her breath. A few residents eyed her warily before returning to their conversations, the buzz of overlapping voices louder than a swarm of hornets. "What's going on out there?" A man asked, sidling closer.

She ignored the inquiry, searching the sea of faces for the one she needed to relay the information to. "Where's Merope?"

"Right here," a familiar voice announced. The crowd parted down the center, making way for the woman in question to appear. "Dawn? What happened?"

"We trapped the Jabberwocky under the Cathedral," she explained without flourish, pushing off the pillar and pacing closer.

The surrounding faces gasped while the man from earlier stared at her as though she'd grown a third arm. "Did she say under?"

Merope raised a staying hand to the crowd, stifling the flood of questions sure to follow. "Where's Hermione?"

Despite her obvious attempt to keep the conversation on track, her words inspired a fresh ripple of shocked gasps as dozens of heads swiveled in their direction. "The girl's here?" Someone asked sharply, followed by a surge of voices from all directions.

"When did she arrive?"

"We're saved!"

"Not if she's dead."

"Don't say that—"

"— really think it will work?"

"Quiet!" Merope shouted, the intensity of her tone snapping like a whip. The drone of voices instantly faded as she gestured to Dawn. "Please, continue, dear."

The gentle prompt made Dawn squirm, sweating beneath the collective gaze of the room. "We're under siege," she began tentatively, the words sending a shockwave through the crowd. "The Dollmaker brought an airship. His followers are parachuting down all across the Castle." She maintained Merope's steady gaze as the rest of the hall exploded in terror, voices ringing high off the ceiling. "We have to fight. All of us."

"That's ludicrous," Merope replied with a shake of her head. "We aren't equipped for such a battle. I need to speak with Ariana—"

"Merope." Dawn reached out and grasped her arms. "You know what has to be done. They'll listen to you."

Residents pushed and pulled in their haste to flee the room, unable to agree on an exit strategy. Arguing erupted across the floor, broken only by screams and gasping sobs. Merope remained poised and statuesque despite the apprehension in her gaze. She lifted her chin, nodding with resolution before turning to face the insanity of the hall. "Everyone, listen carefully—" But they remained deaf to her words, lost to the mounting hysteria.

An indelicate scoff caught Dawn's attention. She watched as Maggie climbed onto a table and placed two fingers in her mouth, a piercing whistle cutting through the chaos like a blow horn. People blinked, mouths agape as they searched out the source of the shrill noise. Merope seized the opportunity, gathering her skirts and stepping before the table, nodding her appreciation to woman poised atop its gleaming surface before addressing the bewildered room.

"You heard correctly," she stated loudly. "Ariana and Hermione are working towards bringing the cure to the outside world." More murmurs erupted but she silenced them with her next words. "However, that won't happen unless we defeat the Dollmaker here and now." A ripple of anxiety traveled the length of the hall. Merope raised her palms in a calming gesture, voice steady and patient. "I know you're scared. I am, too. It feels like being trapped in a waking nightmare. Easier to hide, easier to surrender. But you know the fate awaiting us under his rule. Many of you experienced it first hand before finding sanctuary behind these walls." The lingering conversations faded, all eyes focused upon her. "And for those of us who are already dead, Wonderland is our permanent home, our only reality. We must defend it at all costs. Ariana and Hermione can't do it alone." She lowered her arms, remaining the focal point of the room. "This is our final stand for our final resting place. This land belongs to us, not to him and not to his faceless followers. We must fight to protect our future, we must fight for all the innocent souls to come." Several heads bobbed in adamant agreement while others remained frozen in terror, yet no one voiced a word of dissent. "If we stand together we can defeat him, that I promise you. But you must stand. You must fight. Every single person must give it everything they have." She inhaled deeply, holding it for several beats before casting a meaningful glance around the room. "Can I count on you?"

Residents fidgeted nervously, shuffling in place as awkward silence festered. And then Maggie exploded to life on the table, her booming voice shocking the crowd into stillness. "Hell yes! Let's kill the bastard!"

A beat. Then two. And all at once the room erupted into a fit of wild cheers, voices high and nervous but eager nonetheless. Merope laughed, clapping her hands in relief and meeting Dawn's eye. Their expressions instantly seized as the same silent thought passed between them.

What the hell do we do now?

---

Padma tore around the corner, lungs burning as she staggered to a halt. Mowgli promptly followed suit, tripping into a forward roll before springing to his feet with boneless flexibility. They shuffled backward, watching in horror as a group of faceless men exited a room, steadily filling the hall. She pressed a hand to her mouth and backtracked around the corner she'd just turned, pressing flat to the paneling while Mowgli burrowed into her skirts, hiding behind its silk folds. She took a steadying breath and carefully peeked around the wall. The library entrance stood just ahead, halfway between her hiding spot and the congregation of evil minions. Her heart thundered so loudly she was certain they could hear it.

But they can't see me. She gathered the fabric of her dress and carefully stepped out of her shoes, toes curled and shoulders drawn tight. This is insane. I'm going to die…

"Don't you dare say that."

Padma jolted, stricken by the words. She glanced around anxiously, the hallway empty in either direction.

"You're not going to die. I won't let you."

It was then she realized the voice was emanating from inside her mind, so familiar it made her brain itch.

"I've almost got the money saved for the clinic, they're going to cure you."

She placed a hand to her chest, a sharp pain alighting at its center though she hadn't the faintest clue why.

"But I need you to keep fighting, Padma. You can't give up on me." She held her breath, waiting. "Promise me you'll keep fighting."

A tear rolled down her cheek, absorbed by her bodice. "I promise," she whispered, warmth infusing her limbs like a comforting embrace. She glanced down, meeting Mowgli's intelligent gaze. His yellow eyes flickered before obeying the silent command, scaling the side of her body to her shoulder and gripping tight. She splayed her hands flat to the wall and pushed off, rising onto tiptoes and slowly creeping around the corner, breath trapped in her lungs. The faceless men were clustered together, leaning close as though engaged in conversation. Padma had barely breached the corridor when their heads lifted and turned, fleshy masks fixed in her direction.

Shite.

Mowgli buried his face in her neck as the men started in her direction, brandishing an assortment of crude weapons. Her pulse turned spastic, gaze darting to the library, its doors propped wide in silent beckoning. So very close, and yet so far away. She bit her lip, tense with indecision, the urge to make a break for it causing her muscles to twitch with anticipation. And then her eyes flickered to a man wielding an oversized mallet and her knees locked.

The group drew closer, spreading the width of the hall, footsteps echoing through her skull and creating a countdown to her doom.

I should have run. Why didn't I run?

Her hesitation had cost her greatly. Soldiers passed before the library, blocking its entrance. She bit her tongue to stifle a gasp as a man walked directly before her, lead pipe resting against his shoulder. The featureless mask turned until it pointed in her direction. He stopped walking less than a meter from where she stood. Mowgli's fingers dug into her flesh, tail grazing her chin as he pressed into her neck.

"What happened?" Her arm twitched, nerves sparking as another voice filled her head. This one sounded suspiciously like her own, though a much more frail and hoarse version.

"Someone broke in." The first phantom responded. "He tried to take you."

The man twirled his pipe, idly tapping his foot before continuing down the corridor, passing her in a few strides. She exhaled slowly, light-headed with adrenaline.

"So I stopped him."

She gathered her skirts and bolted, Mowgli clinging for dear life as she charged the doorway and took them by surprise, barrelling past. Her shoulder clipped a man with a heavy chain. He swung at the space she previously occupied, bashing a dent in the wall. The commotion alerted the others, everyone giving chase. Dozens of boots thundered in her wake as she cut a quick path across the floor, weaving between desks in a desperate attempt to slow them down. The strategy was marginally successful, a few men tripping on table legs and stumbling over chairs before overturning the obstacles in rage.

Her heart lodged in her throat as she reached the winding metal staircase, pausing at the base to duck beneath the rope extended between the handrails, its dangling sign smacking Mowgli in the forehead. He shook off the blow and glared at the bold lettering.

Restricted Section

The sprite leapt forward as she began her rapid ascent, bounding up the spiral steps in a flash of green. Padma was slowed by a second hanging sign reading Caution, carefully ducking under the warning while her adversaries reached the stairs, plowing through the rope and shaking the entire structure in their heavy-footed pursuit. She kept her eyes focused ahead, clutching the railing with both hands as she continued up up up, dropping low to duck beneath a third sign.

Danger Ahead

No sooner had she straightened than she was facing a fourth warning, strung so close to her face she nearly went cross-eyed reading it.

Seriously, I warned you.

Her breath escaped in a rush as she journeyed on and reached the top of the stairs at last, facing the fifth and final sign written in the same eloquent script.

Suit yourself. Don't bleed on the books.

She dipped beneath the rope, emerging onto the second-level where Mowgli was calmly waiting, falling into step beside her as she raced past towering bookcases, frantically reading their plaques.

Alchemy, Anthropology, Horticulture, Medicine, Occult, Zoology…

Her body quaked as she turned into the final row and footsteps flooded the landing, signaling the moment her pursuers reached the top floor. She peeked between a gap in the shelf and watched the man in front signal the others. The group split, bodies heading in either direction with weapons poised. She crept softly down the aisle, fingers twitching as she scanned the books at eye-level, eyes narrowed on their titles. She began to reach out several times, only to shake her head, waiting to discover a more suitable candidate, unsure what to expect beyond the ominous warning signs.

And then a floorboard creaked beside her and caution was thrown to the wind. A man had entered her row, sporting a wooden bat riddled with bent nails. She staggered back at the sight and clipped the case with her hip, books gently rocking. Yet the subtle motion was more than enough to alert him to her presence. He lifted the bat and charged. She shrieked, scrambling for the first book she could get her hands on and ripping it from the shelf, screaming outright as the bat swung past her head, twisted nails sailing past her face as opened the tome to a random page and held it like a shield.

A torrent of water shot forth with such force it drove her attacker off his feet, followed by a powerful gust of hurricane wind that sent him tumbling across the floor. The book trembled in her grasp, alive with the storm. She held onto it with all her strength, arms locked in the outright position as the pages rapidly turned of their own accord, lightning striking the floor and splitting the slats wide. She gasped and leapt back as thunder crashed, causing the entire bookcase to tremble, walls vibrating with the rumbling echo.

The faceless man clung to the shelves, feet slipping over water and kelp while he fought to pull upright. But his struggles were short-lived as a whaling harpoon shot out of the pages, striking him in the chest and impaling him through the center. Padma gaped, arms quaking as she forced the book shut with a jarring snap, staggering in place as it continued to riot in her grasp, sentient and angry as she struggled to shove it back into its dusty slot, finally succeeding with great effort. She sagged against the wood, resting her forehead on the lip of the shelf and peering sideways to meet Mowgli's wide stare. And then three faceless heads appeared at the mouth of the aisle, boots splashing as they sidestepped the body of their skewered comrade.

She staggered anew, losing her balance over a ladder set on casters and toppling to the ground with a scream. They descended upon her, knives and mallets and clubs raised high. Mowgli launched forward, landing atop a fleshy mask and clawing ruthlessly. His prey reared back and collided with his compatriots, distracting them long enough for her to scramble for another book, selecting a title at random and opening it wide.

Snakes tumbled out. Ten, twenty, thirty, each of varying size and markings, some as short as her hand and others as long as an ox. They slithered and coiled, striking out with blinding speed. A black serpent plunged its dripping fangs into a man's thigh, instantly crippling him, while a massive white snake dislocated its jaw and engulfed a faceless head whole, slowly working its way down the shoulders and chest as its victim thrashed and twitched. She snapped the book shut with a breathless shriek and scrambled backward on her bum, skin crawling with terror as a cobra coiled around the third man, drawing tight, tight, tighter until his ribs broke with a deafening crack that caused her stomach to flip inside-out.

Something soft brushed her hand.

Her scream was piercing, hysterical with unbridled terror, senses only returning when Mowgli leaped onto her chest and took her face between his hands, holding her gaze until the desperate wail died in her throat. And then more foot soldiers came running, awakening her frazzled mind the rest of the way. The smaller snakes scattered in every direction, some winding up the newcomer's legs while others slipped into the shelves. Padma pulled upright on trembling legs, reaching for book after book and cracking them open before throwing them at the approaching brigade. A menagerie of creatures sprang forth, some majestic and whimsical, others elusive and terrifying, yet the one trait they all seemed to share was gnawing hunger pains.

Within minutes blood soaked the floor and gore splattered the walls. One title sprouted teeth mid-air, colliding with a faceless head and chomping down like a bear trap. The man thrashed and bucked, toppling over bodies and books until colliding with the metal railing and plummeting to the first floor. Padma continued grabbing and throwing titles until a rainbow-striped tiger let loose a bone-rattling growl and turned its sights on her, saber teeth gleaming with blood.

She screamed and hit the ground as oversized insects buzzed overhead, stingers the size of steak knives. Mowgli helped her push the books on the bottom shelf out of the way until she was able to crawl through to the other side, emerging in an empty aisle. She pulled to her feet and sprinted for the end of the row. And then a minion appeared in her path and she was forced to change tactics, reaching for a book as he swung a chain at her head. A demonic arm shot out of the pages, taloned-tipped fingers catching the weapon and winding it around a scarred wrist before tugging hard and drawing the soldier forward, catching him by the throat. The jagged nails pierced the skin and ripped his trachea clean out, spraying blood in every direction. Padma cringed, face and gown speckled red.

Well, that's enough reading for me today.

She dropped the title as the arm continued to tear apart the body, edging around the gruesome scene while Mowgli swung from the shelves, landing atop her shoulder as she tore around the end of the bookcase— only for something to grip her ankle and pull, sending her crashing to the ground with a blood-curdling scream. Her cry was cut short upon impact with the hard ground, the air pushed forcefully from her lungs. She kicked and thrashed but only managed to get her dress captured as well, something gripping the hem of her skirts as she screamed anew. Two more arms had sprung from the book, looking as though they were all attached to the same scarred, demonic creature. Razor talons tore through her gown and shredded her stockings as they pulled her across the floor. She scrambled helplessly, clawing at the slats until her nail beds turned bloody. Mowgli attempted to help but the mangled flesh was immune to his blunt teeth and nails.

Her cries took on a new pitch as a fourth arm emerged, reaching over her body and grabbing a fistful of her hair, pulling her head back until her spine was stretched like a bow set to snap in half. She was dragged over the shredded corpse of her faceless, throatless attacker, bodice and hands soaked red in his warm blood. And then Mowgli darted away, bounding around the corner and out of sight. She gasped for breath, tears streaming as her scalp burned in protest, certain it was about to rip away. She scrambled desperately with her hands, reaching for another book, but a fifth arm emerged and took her searching wrist captive, bending the limb behind her back with brutal force.

She was nearly to the open pages now and wondered if the demonic entity had the ability to pull her inside, knowing her fate would be forever sealed. So this is it…

"You can't give up on me."

Her heart stuttered, vision turning dim as the arms hauled her through the pool of blood, the edge of the book grazing her ankle–

A low-throated growl rumbled across the floor, followed by a lipless hiss that made her clench tight. She blinked through her tears and terror, mouth hanging wide as Mowgli came tearing around the bookcase, skidding across the wood on a collision course straight for her. The ground vibrated beneath her body as a stampede of beasts appeared at his heels, eagerly chasing their furry meal with the rainbow saber-tooth at the forefront of the pack. The colorful feline caught sight of Padma and licked its gore-covered chops, quickly changing targets. She closed her eyes as the creature pounced, landing atop her with bone-crushing force. But its fangs plunged into a demonic arm covering her back, paws clawing the ground for traction as the entity tried to pull free, a tug-of-war ensuing with her helplessly trapped beneath.

A massive serpent slithered past, forked-tongue grazing her blood-splattered cheek before turning its slitted sight on an arm trying to withdraw into the book. Its scaled body wrapped the limb like a manacle, fangs plunging into the wrist. The book trembled, releasing Padma to focus on fending off its attackers. She crouched low and crawled frantically, pressing into the opposite shelf as a flaming arrow shot past her face and lodged in the ground beside her thigh. Her breath lodged in her throat as the remaining entities turned their focus upon her, teeth and claws bared as they rapidly closed in, filling the air with hair-raising sounds. Mowgli scrambled into her lap and pressed his face into her middle as they closed their eyes and cringed, awaiting imminent slaughter.

And then, all at once, the world fell silent.

Her gaze peeled open, wide with shock as the monstrous creatures turned to literal stone, bodies black as charcoal, caught in mid-pounce positions with fangs and claws extended. She drew her legs up and accidentally grazed a snake with her boot, causing it to crumble into a pile of ash. Her breath escaped in a rush, blowing against a frozen wolf and rendering it into a heap, dust floating away like dandelion fuzz.

Mowgli slowly uncurled, relinquishing his death grip on her skirts to slide off her lap and pace tentatively towards the stone tiger, locked in an eternal battle with the five-armed demon. His paw twitched before poking at a single whisker, the beast and arms collapsing into charcoal mounds before them. The book that unleashed the arms slammed shut abruptly, launching Mowgli a meter off the ground like a startled cat. Padma shrieked as well, the sound jolting her into motion. She crawled through the sea of ashes until reaching the end of the row and glancing either way down the main aisle, dazed at the sight.

"You stopped him all by yourself?"

Faceless bodies littered the floor, propped against bookcases and stuffed between shelves, twisted and mangled with piles of ash surrounding them.

"Course not. You were with me the whole time."

She crawled to the railing overlooking the bottom level, peering through the bars and spotting more corpses below. Mowgli peaked through as well, large eyes blinking as she sank back on her heels.

I did this… Her chest tightened with a twisted sense of pride. "But I was asleep." The phantom voice of her former-self uttered weakly.

"Doesn't matter. Awake, asleep, we're always together."

And suddenly, without warning or prompt, a dam broke inside her. Padma curled forward, overwrought by the images flooding her mind, so vivid in detail she couldn't discern where memory stopped and reality began. She saw cracked plaster peeking out from torn wallpaper, black mold festering at the edges; felt the thin, musty cot beneath her frail body as dirty sheets tangled around her legs; smelled the taint of sickness and death on the air; tasted dust and bitter medicine at the back of her throat. But most importantly, she saw dim candlelight flicker across her sister's face.

She tipped sideways with the force of the memory and the floodgates it unleashed. "Parvati," she whispered, tears filling her eyes anew. "I'm awake." Her hands sought the railing above, gripping it tight before pulling to her feet. "And I'm coming home." She started down the main aisle with determination, leaping a headless corpse with a bright grin. "Come along, Mowgli," she instructed, watching the sprite pounce over a severed arm. "Let's see what the others are up to."

---

"Down!" Hermione called, prompting Cormac to drop like a corpse while she swung her sickle at the charging soldier, striking dead center of his empty face. Glass punctured the skull with a sickening crunch, blood spurting like juice from a burst melon. Chunks rained across McLaggen with wet splats as the body continued to stagger, caught on the curved blade.

"Fuck!" Cormac shouted, scrambling out of the splash zone as she struggled to wrench her weapon free. "Could this be anymore gratuitous?" He frantically wiped blood from his eyes and mouth before gagging.

The body hit the ground with her scythe still attached. "You really want to find out?" She panted, placing her boot to the forehead and ripping the blade free, gooey contents trailing the motion in a gleaming arc. She met his disgusted countenance and cringed sympathetically. "You get used to it. Then it hardly seems real." She wiped the glass clean on the dead man's jacket. "Or perhaps I'm just in a prolonged state of shock."

Cormac peered down at his gore-drenched shirtfront, expression pinching tighter. "I'm leaning more towards psychosis."

She shrugged, figuring the diagnosis was as much a possibility as anything else at this point, and pivoted swiftly, swinging her weapon anew. The hook of her sickle struck a faceless fighter in the neck, crimson showering the wall and floor. Lavender darted by, losing traction in the glistening pool until she was gliding past like a skater on ice. "This Castle really wasn't designed with epic battles in mind," the blonde lamented before hammering a shockwave strike that catapulted her advancing foe a dozen meters through the air.

"Decidedly not," Hermione agreed, slicing a man in the stomach as he swung a wooden bat at her head. His entrails spilled free like dead snakes from a ripped sack. Cormac dry-heaved at the sight, holding the wall for support.

Since popping up from the winding underground passage the fighting hadn't ceased. There was only a handful of parachuters left in the courtyard by the time the trio arrived, the vast majority swarming through the Castle like locusts.

"Any chance there's another tunnel leading to a heavily stocked artillery?" Hermione mused between labored breaths, wiping sweat from her eyes with an equally sweaty forearm.

"Don't look at me," Lavender called, leaping a swinging chain like a jump-rope. "Cormac is our resident Secret Passage Tour Guide."

He heaved once more before wiping his mouth on his collar, cringing at the red-stained fabric. "I only know of the one. I found it by mistake while looking for a place to—" He stopped abruptly, prompting both women to quirk a brow. "Nevermind," he finished promptly.

Lavender rolled her eyes, cold-clocking a man upside the chin with her trusty tool. "Christ, I was only gone for a day."

"The bloody suns never set," he scathed. "It's always the same d—" His eyes shot wide. "Mione, look out!"

She whirled around as a faceless mass charged, toppling her to the ground before she could maneuver her scythe. He grabbed the handle and wrestled the weapon away, tossing it aside and reaching for her throat, squeezing so hard she was certain he'd pop her head off with brute strength alone. From the corner of her fading vision she saw Lavender barreling towards her, shouting something she couldn't hear over the throbbing in her ears. Two adversaries appeared from the ether, tackling the blonde before she reached her destination.

Hermione's lips moved soundlessly, desperately seeking air as she beat her attacker with closed fists, muscles burning from oxygen-depletion. Pressure welled in her skull, eyes bloodshot, set to burst. A withering gurgle managed to work past the tight constriction, lips turning blue as her arms dropped heavy and limp. And then the weight straddling her thighs jolted forward and his hands fell away. She inhaled sharply, arching off the floor and eagerly filling her lungs. Her lids fluttered, vision hazed and lashes clumped as the man above her swayed precariously before tipping sideways. She frantically pushed the dead weight off and scrambled back, gaze flitting up.

Cormac held her discarded sickle in both hands, standing so stiff and pale he resembled a bewildered statue. Blood dripped from the blade to a growing puddle at his feet. "I killed him," he muttered through frozen lips, putting trained ventriloquists to shame. "I killed him…" He dropped the weapon as though burned by its touch, gaze unwavering from the body.

Hermione rubbed her throat, overcome with sympathy for the faraway look in his eyes. "I saw." Her voice was strained, each syllable a feat. She stood carefully. "You saved my life… relatively speaking." His shoulder twitched as she braced it gently, waiting for his gaze to meet hers. "Thank you, Cormac." She held his stare a moment longer before searching for Lavender, already certain the girl had bested her attackers. The knowledge was confirmed when a bright laugh filled the other end of the courtyard. Sure enough, the blonde was happily bashing in a skull, another body lying in a twisted heap nearby. Hermione's eyes flitted over the remainder of the outdoor sanctuary, a dozen corpses scattered across its sparkling floor. "I don't see how I can return to normal life after this."

"I'll happily take your place," McLaggen murmured, still sounding a bit dazed.

Her shoulders tensed. "I'm sorry, Cormac. It's easy to forget you're…"

"Dead?"

"What? Like that's a bad thing?" Lavender chirped as she skipped to their sides, an illustrious flag of golden hair flying at her back. The gleaming strands made Hermione all the more aware of the bird's nest dwelling atop her own head.

Cormac shook his head. "Not everyone enjoys having their soul violently sucked from their body."

"That's not what you said last night."

Hermione cringed at their matching smirks. "Okay, that's more than enough."

"That's more than enough?" He repeated, tone steeped in disbelief. "You're covered in some poor sod's brain matter."

"It's intestines if you must know. Now can we please stay focused?"

"On?" Lavender prompted with a twirl of her hammer.

Hermione started to respond but a distant explosion swallowed her words. One of the walls trembled, vibrations ghosting across the floor and up her calves. "That!" She shouted, running for the clover-shaped doorway. Lavender darted after her, gracefully leaping bodies while Cormac glared at their backs.

"Bloody hell, what now?" He groused, trailing with great reluctance.

Lavender drew up beside her as they entered the corridor. "I think it came from the main hall," she stated. Hermione's heart skipped, imagining the residents piled together like sitting ducks. "I know a shortcut, this way!" The blonde continued, guiding them around the bend. Cormac's long legs negated their head start, allowing him to catch up in the next hall as Lavender led them to a vibrant red door, shockingly out of place among its dark and gilded surroundings. She began reaching for the handle when footsteps pounded around the corner. One of the Dollmaker's disciples appeared, machete in hand. "You two go ahead," the blonde instructed calmly, watching his approach through gleaming eyes. "I'll catch up."

Hermione nodded, more than confident in her friend's ability to hammer the goon into a smooth paste. She gripped the knob as the girl charged, eager to land the first blow. But when Hermione threw the barrier wide another door stood in her way, glossy black and slightly smaller than its predecessor. She blinked, turning the second handle and giving it a tug, nose twitching at the green door standing before her. "Goodness gracious," she muttered, shaking her head and turning the third knob, a white door appearing. "Why?" The next was blue, followed by plum, then orange, each shorter and narrower than the last.

Cormac dragged a hand over his face as Lavender struck her machete-wielding opponent in the kneecap. "I really fucking hate this place."

Hermione dropped to her haunches and reached for the eighth knob, gritting her teeth and fully sharing in the sentiment as yet another barrier materialized. She teetered on the verge of fuck it, let's take the long route when, at last, she turned the ninth and final handle and the adjoining corridor appeared on the other side. She breathed a heavy sigh and slid her scythe through the opening. "Well, it is a shortcut."

"Come on, Granger. You're better than that."

She braced her hands to the floor and began crawling. "It's all I could think of on short notice."

"Please stop."

"Why the short fuse?"

"Fucking hell."

Laughter bubbled from her lips as she rose in the next hall, retaking her weapon and patiently awaiting Cormac, his larger frame posing a greater logistical challenge. But after several failed attempts he managed to maneuver his shoulders through, rising with a groan and beating invisible dust from his blood-caked attire. She rolled her eyes and started headlong down the corridor, Cormac remaining a few paces behind despite his much longer stride. No doubt he was perfectly content with her steering the ship if it meant doubling as a human shield.

"Which way?" She prompted at the end of the line, glancing in either direction, unfamiliar with the decor.

"Hm…" He scratched the back of his head and examined the artwork. A girl leaned against the inside of her frame picking petals from a flower and tossing them over her shoulder, the delicate buds flying off the canvas and drifting to the floor like feathers. "Left." They proceeded in the designated direction until reaching another intersection, its wall dominated by a massive oil painting of a buxom brunette in a loosely-draped toga. She winked at their arrival. "There she is. Rosalind." Cormac smirked. "If you ask nicely she'll drop the sheet."

"I'm glad you're such a devoted patron of the arts. Which way now?"

"Head right to the staircase, it's a straight shot from there."

She nodded, continuing on until the sound of muffled chaos met their ears. Her grip tightened on her sickle as they reached a staircase, making it halfway down when it began to move. Cormac staggered, startled by the sudden motion, clinging to her for balance. She suffered his grip until it began to wander, earning a pointed glare over her shoulder. He adorned a rakish grin and raised his hands in surrender. "Some things never change, I suppose."

"Your supposition is correct," she replied crisply, batting her scythe against her palm as the staircase clicked into place. They flew down the remaining steps, guided by the symphony of the battle ahead, strides lengthening as they neared the towering archway. Cormac reached the threshold first and skidded to a halt, mouth gaping wide as Hermione arrived at his side, stricken by the same reaction.

The glittering entry hall had transformed into a war-zone.

Men and women defended themselves with anything they could lift, sconces and candlestick holders, coat racks and brooms, chairs and stools, pots and curtain rods. The make-shift weapons were wielded clumsily, residents backed into corners and forced to fight for their survival. Though a select few switched to offensive measures, zealously pursuing faceless invaders over tabletops and under staircases.

But the true focal point of the chaos was a pair of jerry-rigged catapults situated against the back wall, manned by a group of wild-eyed children. From a distance, the framework appeared to be composed of bent floorboards, men's suspenders and lady's bloomers creating the sling. She watched in disbelief as two children labored beneath the weight of a watermelon, hefting the sizable fruit into the silk pouch. Three others held the release rope steady while a fourth shouted instructions to guide their aim. Hermione blinked, realizing the fourth child was one she recognized.

Leo's cheeks were flushed, eyes narrow as he lined up the trajectory and dropped his hand to signal the launch. The children released the rope and the counterweight crashed down, swinging the arm in turn. The green projectile shot past at impressive velocity, exploding against a faceless target and knocking the man clear off his feet. The woman he'd been attempting to maim with a pipe scrambled free, seeking shelter in the sea of grappling bodies. The children cheered in triumph, their joyous calls endearing and disturbing amid such violence. But Leo didn't waste time celebrating, focused instead on directing the second catapult. He carefully steered the arm into position, finally giving the release signal. The watermelon shot out of the sling with a sharp whistle, exploding across the floor a meter short of its target. "We need more counterweight!" He shouted, running to a pile of random items in the corner.

"This is madness," Cormac whispered at her side.

"This is Wonderland," she declared, watching the children drag a broken chandelier across the floor. "Cormac, go help them." She readied for argument as he followed her gaze, taken aback by his boyish grin.

"Actually, it looks like fun."

She smirked as he bounded forward with pep, then rapidly sobered as two women screamed shrilly, flimsy weapons ripped from their grasps by a faceless attacker. Hermione raced to their aid, swinging her scythe as soon as she came within range, aiming for his thigh to minimize the mess. The women seemed traumatized enough, no need to hose them down with blood. He folded like a newspaper, thrashing in agony as she tore her weapon free, dark red seeping from the severed artery. The women gasped, watching in abject horror before regaining their senses and nodding gratefully. And then a familiar voice rose above the commotion, earning the whole of her focus.

"Hermione, duck!"

She dropped without hesitation, the end of a flyaway curl sliced cleanly by a swinging sword. Hermione replied in kind, severing his foot at the ankle with a slash of her sickle and rolling away before he landed on top of her. Her thighs burned when she launched upright, adrenaline turning her jittery as she searched out the owner of the voice, spotting Dawn halfway across the room with Maggie at her side, both women perched atop a table. Hermione lowered her scythe and set off to meet them, noticing the curtain rods in their hands. They used the raised vantage to their benefit, aiming jabs at faceless foreheads and knocking enemies unconscious in a single blow.

"How are you girls holding up?"

"Never better!" Maggie supplied cheerfully, delivering a mighty thwack to the side of a featureless head. The body went airborne, nearly horizontal before dropping in a heap. She smirked at her handiwork and glanced up, eyes gleaming at the sickle. "Oh, nifty. Where can I get one?"

"It's a custom build," Hermione responded breathlessly, then caught sight of a rapidly approaching item in her peripheral. She reared back, going cross-eyed as a ming vase zipped past her nose, shattering against the wall several meters away.

"Head's up, Granger!" Cormac shouted from the catapults.

"You're supposed to say that before it almost kills me!" He shrugged, preoccupied with filling the next sling while the children crowded around him in adoration. She glanced forward. "Have you seen Merope?"

Dawn cast a searching gaze across the room, able to see far beyond what Hermione's limited height afforded. She quickly straightened, pointing to the corner. "Over by the tapestry!"

Hermione followed her direction and cut a determined path through the center of the room, sickle at the ready. She ducked stray fists and swinging chains, staggering to the wall as a young woman charged past with an oil lamp in hand, shattering it over a faceless man's head as her male companion tossed a lit sconce into the mix. The flailing figure ignited at once. Hermione looked away from the blaze with a wave of nausea, scanning the appointed corner for a familiar face. But her view was blocked by a dozen suits of armor standing in a row, posed like medieval knights. She edged closer, then froze as one of the Dollmaker's ilk rushed the line of shields with a hatchet, only to be promptly disarmed. Literally. If his face bore eyes she harbored no doubt they'd be blinking in shock as his severed appendage hit the floor. The empty suit sheathed its sword as the man collapsed to his knees, blood pooling around him.

Right.

She stepped back, keen on searching elsewhere until she caught a glimpse of pale skin behind the metallic guards. "Merope?" She called, gulping when the gleaming helmets pivoted in her direction, empty eye-sockets fixed upon her.

"Hermione?"

Her lungs deflated in a rush. She took half a step closer and a dozen swords pointed in her direction.

"Let her through," Merope commanded brusquely. "And for the last time, stop defending me and help the others!" She forced her way between two rigid suits. "Are you alright, dear?" Hermione nodded, edging forward with slightly more confidence. "Thank god," Merope remarked, unflinching as a man charged their corner with a meat cleaver. She grasped Hermione by the elbow and calmly pulled her aside as her knights descended, running their would-be-attacker through with a dozen swords. "You need to get to the throne room," she continued, turning Hermione around to spare her the sight of the body hitting the ground in two pieces.

"I'm not abandoning you when the Castle's under siege."

"You aren't abandoning us, you're continuing the fight on the outside—" She broke off as another faceless soldier sprung his attack.

"For heaven's sake," Hermione lamented, taking care of the nuisance with her sickle before the hollow knights could intervene.

"Go now," Merope urged, watching her young companion wrench the scythe from a spurting neck. "Ariana should be ready." Hermione opened her mouth to argue. "It's alright," Merope assured, "we can defend ourselves. But all of this means nothing if the Dollmaker continues to thrive in the real world."

The weight of Hermione's burden returned with crushing swiftness. "We'll stop him," she vowed.

Merope smiled. "Between you and my son, Gellert doesn't stand a chance."

The statement burrowed under Hermione's skin, as did the penetrating gaze it was paired with. "I…" How to say farewell? "I'll tell Tom about you. As much as I can without sounding insane."

Merope's smile tightened, a film of sadness clouding her eyes. "I know you'll tell him what you remember. Thank you, darling."

Hermione blinked. What she remembered? But before she could voice her confusion Merope nodded to the crowd.

"Go now or it'll be too late."

Hermione swallowed thickly, pacing backward and holding the grey stare as long as she could before rejoining the battle. She navigated the fray with careful steps, slipping around grappling bodies and leaping fallen corpses, nearly to the archway when golden hair appeared, stalling her tracks. Lavender burst into the hall with a beaming grin, arms overflowing with weaponry. "I brought toys!" She called loudly, winking at Hermione as she dropped her bounty to the floor with a mighty clatter. "Gather round, children, pick your poison!" A handful of residents clustered around the pile, eagerly picking through the sharp and bloodied offerings. Lavender gazed on fondly, St. Nicholas spreading Christmas cheer to the good boys and girls.

"Where did you get all these?" Hermione asked, approaching the lethal selection.

The blonde tossed her hair and picked out a medieval morning-star, graciously handing it to a wide-eyed young man with a spotted complexion. "Picked 'em off some dead arseholes in the hall. Seemed a shame to leave them there."

A fit of childish laughter drew their attention. The catapult-crew celebrated another successful launch, clapping one another on the backs and jumping excitedly, McLaggen's boyish shouts of victory ringing the loudest. His young comrades tittered as he mussed their hair in praise.

"Seems Cormac's found a new hobby," Hermione observed. "Along with a few new friends."

"Thank god," Lavender sighed. "Maybe now I can go more than ten minutes without having to pry his head from between my thighs."

Hermione raised a contemplative brow. "Imagine all the free time. You can finally take up knitting."

"I suppose the needles can double as daggers in a pinch." The feline gaze turned speculative. "Going somewhere?"

Hermione stood firmer, humor fading in a heartbeat. "To see Ariana."

Realization rippled across her friend's features. "You're leaving," Lavender concluded. The silence swelled like a balloon, its delicate shell burst by a morning-star swinging between their faces. They staggered apart as the boy entrusted with the weapon was tackled to the ground. He emitted a string of broken pleas, slapping desperately at his attacker and screaming outright when the man raised a knife overhead.

Lavender rolled her eyes and reached inside her boot, extracting her hammer and driving it against the fleshy mask in a fluid swing, the accompanying burst of orange light blinding onlookers for several blinks. By the time Hermione's sight recovered Lavender was kicking the body aside and offering her hand to the stammering young man. "Why don't you go help with the catapults?" She suggested patiently, causing his blush to deepen and spread even as he nodded in adamant agreement. Her gaze returned to Hermione but before she could speak Padma sprinted through the archway, Mowgli on her shoulder and arms full of—

"I've got books!"

Hermione's brow pinched at the jovial announcement, exchanging a bemused glance with Lavender before gently addressing their newest arrival. "That's great, Padma, but you're better off with something a bit sharper."

Lavender leaned down and extracted a spiked mace from the dwindling pile. "Here, luv, try this on for size."

Padma shook her head. "Trust me, these pack a much stronger punch." She carefully lowered the stack without dislodging Mowgli. It was then Hermione noticed the state of the woman's turquoise gown; the vibrant silk covered in grey ash as though she'd been climbing through chimneys. She quickly cast the speculation aside and watched her select a book off the top, holding it out. Hermione set down her scythe and accepted the offering, curiosity piqued by the faded title. Then she started opening the cover.

"Don't!" Padma gasped, palm flattening over the front. Hermione stiffened, nearly dropping the tome in her surprise. "Aim the pages at his soldiers," the girl explained, hand sliding away. Hermione exchanged another loaded glance with Lavender before facing the crowd and searching for a suitable target, finding one quickly and raising the book with both hands. "Hold on tight," Padma muttered, bracing her feet apart while Mowgli closed his large eyes.

Hermione wetted her lips and followed the command, opening the cover with the pages faced out. No sooner had she parted the spine than thorn-covered vines shot free, spiraling through the air and slinking across the floor like serpents. She gaped in silence, fingertips turning white as the book jerked wildly, vines spreading further, faster. "Watch out!" She called to nearby residents, prompting them to glance back and shriek, scrambling away from the spiked tendrils. But two faceless adversaries didn't see the threat or heed her warning, treading forward with nary a care. The vines coiled around their ankles and winded up their legs like tentacles, fastening around their waists and hauling them off their feet. They thrashed and clawed for purchase as the vines rapidly retracted, pulling them towards the possessed book and a very speechless Hermione.

"It's okay, just hold on," Padma instructed with unshakable calm, gripping Hermione's shoulder to lend assurance to her words. Hermione dug in her heels, rocking hard as the vines began pulling their captives into the pages, defying every law of physics known to man. Their limbs stretched like rubber until they were easily squeezed through, bones dissolving and legs flopping. She locked her arms at the elbows as the book hungrily devoured its meal, only their boots remaining. Another hard jerk and those were gone, too. "Now!" Padma shouted.

Hermione snapped the cover shut and tipped sideways, steadied by her friends on either side. Lavender stared at the tome with a mixture of awe and disbelief, lips silently parted. Hermione mirrored her expression before turning her wonderment on the smirking Padma, Mowgli appearing equally smug atop her shoulder.

"Told you," the brunette stated.

Lavender grinned. "Brilliant as always, Patil."

"Brilliant and deadly," Hermione agreed, returning the book to its rightful mistress with a heavy heart. "Hand them out to the others."

Padma accepted the tome with questioning eyes before quickly solving the puzzle. "You're going back."

Hermione's pulse skipped erratically. Departing had been her primary objective since arriving, the entire point of her visit. When she first fell through Grindelwald's couch she expected to find Ariana waiting for her at the bottom with the cure in hand. Never could she have anticipated the battles ahead or the bonds she'd form with the women fighting alongside her. "If all goes according to plan," she replied, unable to mask the melancholy in her voice.

Padma nodded. "I guess I'll see you on the other side then."

The gentle reminder lessened the sharpness in her chest until she cast her gaze to the blonde on her other side and the pain returned with a vengeance. Words piled in her throat, tamping down an emotional outpour. "None of that," Lavender demanded, silencing anything Hermione might have said. "Just go home and kill the evil bastard."

Hermione laughed at the abrupt and fitting farewell, yet before she could move a muscle a thunderous roar swept the room, overpowering the cry of battle. She recognized the ominous rumble at once, glancing at the entry wall seconds before it exploded. Screams and flying stones filled the air, residents racing for cover as something massive pushed through the crumbling brick. The dust slowly settled, revealing the hazy outline of a ship, rippling sails casting dark shadows across the hall and its shocked occupants. Pounding footsteps hit the deck. Hermione tensed as a flood of bodies emerged from the cargo hold, flesh-covered faces surrounding the rigging and lining the stern.

She braced, waiting for them to leap the side of the vessel with weapons drawn. Instead, half a dozen rope ladders were tossed over the handrail. The faceless invaders already scattered throughout the entry hall abandoned their fights to flee for the mothership. Her lips parted, rendered speechless as men ascended the ladders like crawling ants, their colleagues swarming the deck and adjusting the sails. The Castle residents appeared equally shell-shocked, watching in bewilderment as the steam-powered vessel released a heavy cloud of smoke and slowly reversed. The toxic cloud spread, choking onlookers. Hermione coughed into her fist and waved her vision clear as the ship pulled back, scraping across wreckage and felling loose bricks. The final soldier reached the handrail and the ropes were pulled up, the engine roaring in farewell. Wind filled the sails as it disengaged from the wall, leaving behind a gaping hole framing a sherbert-tinted sky.

The ship grew smaller and darker as it progressed towards the dual suns, black silhouette finally swallowed by the swirling clouds. The rhythmic grinding of gears could still be heard several minutes later until it too faded into the distance, leaving behind a perfect silence that encased the hall in eerie absolution. The room's inhabitants continued to stare at the opening, weapons clutched tight as though awaiting the vessel's sudden return. And then Cormac's voice filled the void, the first to recover from the mass-induced stupor. "The cowards tucked tail! We won!"

The hall exploded to life as though a curse had been lifted, cheers and joyous hollers creating a deafening chorus. The children screamed the loudest, jumping in circles with McLaggen at their center. Yet Hermione continued to watch the raspberry sky in dubious silence. Lavender and Padma seemed to share in her doubt, flanking her like statues while the rest of the room danced in triumph.

"It doesn't make sense," Lavender finally expressed aloud, barely audible over the celebration. "We stood our ground but they could've done a lot more damage."

"Maybe they're bringing back reinforcements?" Padma suggested, sounding unconvinced.

Hermione exhaled slowly, eyes fixed steadily ahead. "I think it's much worse."

"Really?" Lavender glanced at her warily. "What do you mean?"

A frigid draft swept through the hall, shadows chasing its heels as the sky darkened to a deep cabernet. The churning clouds slowed until stilling completely, turning the view as static as a portrait background.

"He's here," Hermione muttered.

Lightning struck, the silver bolt filling the sky with a brilliant flash that illuminated the entire room, earning everyone's undivided attention. Voices tapered off, smiles turning brittle as another bolt cut through the ruby backdrop, followed by a crash of thunder so intense it shook the floor. A few people screamed while others shuffled back, eager to distance themselves from the angry sky. The thunder gave way to a bone-rattling thump, each impact growing louder, drawing closer. The room held its collective breath and strained to listen. The noise came from far below, something massive shaking the ground with seismic tremors. It was directly under them now, centered beneath their floating abode.

"Knock knock…" The masculine timber emanated from the hellish sky like the voice of God. "Anyone home?"

Hermione's mouth ran dry as a dark mass passed before the gaping hole in the wall, blocking its meager light. The room erupted with terror as a massive eye appeared, inspecting the chaotic scene at leisure until spotting her rigid form at its center.

"Ah, Ms. Granger." The pupil dilated, swallowing a pale iris. "There you are."

---

Draco scrubbed a hand over his face, heavy footfalls echoing off the cracked ceiling as he trudged downstairs. A familiar sight awaited him at the bottom, though Theo's attention remained fixed to the busted front door rather than the labored descent at his back. He looked as despondent as Draco felt, and Draco knew at that moment they were plagued by the same crippling fear, albeit for different people.

The realization was accompanied by a heavy burden of guilt. Draco wondered just how in the hell he'd missed the obvious for so long. Theo had been acting differently for weeks, perhaps even months, yet Draco had been too consumed with personal strife to pay his childhood mate a closer eye. Hindsight made him feel like a fool. Each tense interaction, every cryptic statement and rapid mood swing was finally brought into startling clarity and made one truth abundantly certain… they'd both been plagued by heartache for a very long time.

Christ. Love was bloody awful.

"Seems neither of us is having an easy go of it," Draco announced, causing the man to jolt from his stupor.

Theo turned, watching his friend's steady approach, asking for no clarification. "How the hell do other people make it look so easy?"

"They've settled." Draco disembarked the final step with a sigh. "Nothing worth having is easy."

His companion studied him anew. "Speaking of which, I thought Black was going to have to drag you out of her room."

"I don't want to leave her side. But I won't find the cure at Grimmauld."

"You're still going after Bella?"

"She's the best bet we have. Or rather, the only bet."

Theo tipped his head. "I'm just surprised. You were obsessed with finding Granger. Nothing else mattered."

Draco glanced away, plagued by images of Dawn and Padma, the veiled dolls awaiting auction and the woman chained to her Master at Scotland Yard, the dark void in their eyes, helpless and trapped. "This is about more than Hermione," he uttered at length. "More than me. I see that now."

The corner of Theo's mouth lifted. "Not so young and dumb anymore."

"Don't tell Black. I won't give the bastard the satisfaction."

"Your secret is safe with me."

The words were spoken in jest but held a greater meaning at that moment, one Draco felt compelled to make clear. "And yours is safe with me."

Theo's smirk faded. "I know," he replied simply, then effortlessly side-stepped topics. "I'll come with you."

"What about your promise?"

"I didn't cross my heart and hope to die. Besides, there's plenty of people here to look after her." He lifted his chin, decision made. "You need me more. Potter will understand."

Draco didn't waste any more time. "Let's go." He led the way across the marble, each tile framed by blood-stained grout. Then horses brayed in the distance, carriage wheels grinding up the pebbled drive. "Bloody hell, is my driver still here?" He swung the door with a careful hand, mindful of ripping it off the hinges, and by the time he maneuvered it open a carriage was pulling before the mansion, its sole occupant leaping down as the horses came to a stop.

Theo staggered back, exhaling swiftly before launching forward with a frustrated growl. "Where the hell have you been? You said you'd be gone for a couple hours!"

"I followed up on a lead," Potter replied without a hint of remorse, then paid his driver. Theo's eyes narrowed, primed for a row.

"Lead?" Draco asked first, propelled by the news. "On what?"

Potter turned to the house as the carriage pulled away. "Devil's Breath. When did you get here?"

"That doesn't matter," Draco clipped. "What the hell is Devil's Breath?" The annoying bastard rolled his eyes and reached into his vest, extracting a vial of blue liquid that gleamed in the moonlight. Draco inspected the contents with avid fascination, reaching for the bottle on instinct. Potter shifted back, pocketing the item with a swift hand. Draco scowled. "Where did it come from?"

"The Dollmaker's private stores. Riddle brought it."

He forced himself to remain unaffected. "What does it do?"

"Turns people into mindless shells," Potter replied flatly. "At least for the short term. Brainwashing takes care of the rest. I'm hunting down its source. Interested in tagging along?"

Theo shook his head. "You're injured—"

"I'm fine," Potter stated firmly, looking like the victim of a lightning strike. "I only came back to check on Mione, then I'm headed out."

Theo scoffed, gearing up for battle. Draco beat him to the punch once more. "Where?"

"Katherine Docks."

He blinked, chest pulling tight. What were the chances? Certainly it was no coincidence. "That's just across the river from where I'm going."

"Which is?"

"Bella's secret abode."

"What? Why does Bellatrix matter?"

Draco reared back. "Did you get kicked in the head by a horse tonight? She's the Dollmaker's right-hand woman. She'll know where he is."

"Knowing is one thing, telling you is another. And that's assuming she's even there. The docks are our first priority. He'll need to make contact with his suppliers before fleeing."

"You don't know that," Draco scathed. "I'm going to Bella's."

"You're wasting time—"

"It's mine to waste."

"—and risking your life by going alone. Come with me to the dock and then we'll swing by her house."

"Come with me to her house and then we'll swing by the stupid fucking dock."

Potter ground his teeth. "Think with your head, Malfoy."

"As opposed to what?"

"Your hatred. I know you want to see Bellatrix in chains but there are more pressing concerns."

"That's not what this is about—"

"—no idea what this drug is capable of—"

"—couldn't care less about the bitch—"

"—need to get it off the bloody streets—"

"—a very real chance he'll be there—"

"—our best hope at finding the fucker!"

"—ridiculous not to look for ourselves!"

"Shut up!" Theo shouted, effectively silencing them both. His head was tipped back, eyes fixed upward. "Please tell me I'm hallucinating."

Draco stiffened, following his gaze. Vertigo seized him by the throat, body swaying in time to his heartbeat.

"Oh my god," Potter whispered, proving it wasn't merely a cruel trick of the moonlight.

A gust of wind swept past, ruffling their hair and catching Hermione's billowing skirts. She swayed precariously, perched atop the very edge of the roof, gaze set blankly ahead as moonlight illuminated her pale figure. Draco held his breath, time slowing, pulse deafening.

She lifted her knee, foot extending over the two-story drop.

They shouted desperately, rendered mindless in shared panic. Potter recovered first, making a mad dash for the front door and spurring Draco into action, Theo chasing at his back as they raced inside.

---

Hermione swayed, lungs squeezed in a vice as the giant eye narrowed, her pale reflection centered in its pupil. "Run," she whispered hoarsely.

Lavender stood equally transfixed, unable to tear her gaze from the monstrous sight. "What?"

"Run!" Hermione repeated with a shout. It had the desired effect upon the speechless crowd, men and women charging the archway in a frenzy. She grabbed Padma and pulled her out of the way while Lavender sought shelter on the other side of the stampede.

Deep laughter filled the air as the eye lifted from view, wind whistling past the opening before a giant arm swept inside, hand skimming the floor with black, jagged nails. The crowd grew more urgent, shrill cries ringing off the walls as they pushed and pulled, desperate in their haste. The hand carelessly flicked aside bodies in its path before grabbing a woman around the middle and lifting her off the ground. She screamed and kicked, beating uselessly at the fist. Hermione searched the ground for her scythe but couldn't spot it amongst the grappling crowd. She grabbed the discarded morning-star instead, chasing the arm as it rapidly withdrew from the gap. She swung the weapon overhead and drove its spiked weight against the back of the hand. The wrist jerked, fingers springing open as blood dripped from the wound, a disembodied hiss filling the air. The girl fell to the ground in a sobbing heap. Hermione grabbed her by the arm and hauled her upright, pushing her towards the archway without a word of comfort.

The bloodied hand formed a fist and pounded the ground just beside her. She scrambled back as it lifted and moved, poised above a gaping man. Lavender darted forward, pushing him out the way as the fist slammed down, causing them both to fall on their arses. The blonde started crawling backward but the fist uncoiled and grabbed her by the leg, dragging her towards the opening. Padma and Hermione rushed forward, leaping bodies and debris in their mad pursuit. Lavender scrambled, teeth bared as she lost grip of her hammer. She was almost to the wall, moments away from being hauled into the red sky. Hermione bit back a scream, lungs burning with the pressure. And then there was a familiar flash of light and the girl dissolved in a rush, an enraged cat taking her place. The bushy feline twisted in his grasp and turned feral, claws and teeth shredding his pale flesh until the hand was desperately trying to shake her off.

"Little bitches!" He bellowed, managing to grip her lithe body between his thumb and forefinger and flick her across the room like an errant crumb. He reached out blindly, blood dripping from his fingertips as he grasped the first body he encountered, another flailing man. Hermione charged with her weapon but the arm tore back in a blur of motion.

Padma fumbled with her book, dropping it twice before managing to get the cover open, vines springing forth in an undulating tangle. Thorn-covered tendrils wrapped the giant wrist, tugging it closer. The voice roared and the arm jerked back, snapping the vines as easily as rubber bands. They squealed like dying animals and scurried back inside the book, slamming the cover shut beyond Padma's control as the hand pulled free of the wall with its hostage in tow. Hermione raced to the opening, clutching broken stones along the edge to avoid falling over the side, rendered speechless at the scene before her.

The Dollmaker stood a hundred meters high, visible from the shoulders up as though emerging from the clouds. But, much like Bella, this Wonderland embodiment didn't quite match the real-world version. His normally pristine hair was a rumpled mess, brown flecked with silver. His face appeared younger as well, bordering on handsome, though the effect was dulled by the heavy black stitching holding his flesh together like cloth. A diagonal seam ran from temple to jawline, another from the corner of his mouth down his neck. His clothing was tattered and singed, heavily patched with the same thick black threading. And yet, despite his ragged toy appearance, his movements remained fluid and life-like as he lifted his captive by the ankle and inspected him upside-down, scowling deeply. Her heart seized as the man was carelessly discarded over the massive shoulder like a flimsy doll, body careening through the red sky before disappearing under the clouds.

"No!" She screamed, face stricken as the Dollmaker turned his sights on her. The suns burned brightly behind his head, creating a sinister halo that cast his face into shadow. But the gleam of his smile was unmistakable, even in darkness.

"You've been wreaking havoc through my land." The rumbling cadence caressed her skin like claws.

"Wonderland isn't yours," she called into the red void. "You're nothing but an infestation, a weed I intend to exterminate."

Laughter vibrated the clouds like thunder. "I must say, I've never looked forward to killing someone quite so much."

"The feeling's wholly mutual."

His amusement turned bitter, voice following suit. "You won't be leaving this place alive, my dear. That I promise you."

"We'll see." She stepped back, eyes glinting from the shadows. "Afterall, you have to catch me first."

Lightning danced across the sky in spiraling ribbons as she sprinted across the floor, his answering growl pricking at her heels.

---

Harry led the charge upstairs until a stabbing pain in his side slowed his steps, allowing Draco to outpace him on the landing. He clutched the banister and gripped his ribs, biting back a hiss. Theo grasped his shoulder but he shrugged off the comforting touch, pushing on with determination. They were halfway down the hall when Sirius popped his head out, eyes bleary and voice thickened by sleep. "Harry? Thought I heard a carriage—" The trio darted past, causing him to straighten with alert. "Let me guess: another life or death crisis?"

"Granger's on the roof," Theo stated simply.

Sirius took after them like a shot. "What? How in the hell—" His eyes narrowed on the blonde head leading their brigade. "Malfoy, you stupid little shite!"

Draco rounded the corner with a scowl. "I put her binds back on!"

"Obviously not tight enough!" Harry scathed.

"It doesn't matter now," Theo spoke, ever the voice of reason. "We need to figure out how to get her down—"

"Get who down?" A feminine voice inquired. Harry glanced over his shoulder as Parvati exited her bedroom and chased after them. They burst into Regulus's bedroom a moment later, the bed glaringly empty. "Oh my god," Parvati whispered. "Where is she?"

Draco was already at the open window, pushing aside its sheer curtain and gazing into the dark night. Harry elbowed him aside and stuck his head through, barely able to see the hem of her gown as it lifted in the breeze. She must have crept along the decorative trim like a tightrope, clinging to the side of the house until reaching the lower portion of the roof. He couldn't begin to guess her motivations and wouldn't waste time trying. He started climbing through. Draco shared the same idea, their long limbs wedging in the frame as they adorned matching grimaces.

"You can't both go!" Theo stated in a tone suggesting they were idiots. He gripped Harry's shoulder and hauled him back, indifferent to his biting snarl.

"He's right," Sirius agreed. "She's not thinking clearly, if you overwhelm her she's likely to lose her balance or jump outright."

"I'll go," Draco and Harry declared simultaneously, quickly rounding on each other.

"You can barely lift your arms, moron," the blonde challenged. "How the hell are you planning to wrangle her inside?"

Harry clenched his teeth, ready to stand his ground—

"Let him go, Harry."

He stiffened, flashing an accusing glance over his shoulder.

"If you love her you'll stand aside and stop wasting time," Theo continued calmly. Harry deflated beneath the weight of the sapphire gaze. Draco saw the defeat in his posture and easily pushed him aside.

"What's going on?" Neville asked, entering the bedroom with a yawn.

"Jesus Christ," Draco snapped, shrugging out of his coat. "Are we selling tickets to the show?"

"Don't mind him, Nev," Sirius assured with a pointed glare. "Little Drake's just feeling the crushing guilt of letting the kitten slip her cage."

Parvati turned on the blonde in a blaze of fury. "You let her out?"

"I didn't let her any—"

"Is everything alright?" Hannah asked softly, wandering in behind Neville.

Draco threw his jacket on the floor in a grand display of stupidity. "Will someone lock that bloody door!"

"Enough!" Harry shouted, fighting through the throbbing agony in his side. "Malfoy, get the fuck out there or stand aside!"

"Bloody hell," the blonde hissed, turning to brace the frame with both hands.

"Wait!" Neville called, earning their collective gaze. "You need a safety rope."

"What a marvelous suggestion, Longbottom." Draco swung a leg over the sill. "I don't suppose you have one stored up your arse you can whip out at a moment's notice?"

Neville clenched his fists, neck and cheeks reddening. He started to speak but Hannah silenced him with a hand on his arm, addressing the blond aristocrat in his stead. "I'm not certain what's going on, but if you're thinking of heading onto the roof a safety rope is a wise precaution."

Draco shot her a withering glare, another cutting remark poised on his tongue. Parvati responded first, undeterred by his rising hostility. "There isn't time, Hannah. Mione's on the edge, she could fall any second."

"Which side?" The young woman asked, stuttering Harry's thoughts. "Which side is she on?" She repeated with force, walking towards the window.

Harry moved out of her way. "East."

"What does it matter?" Draco snapped, eyes narrowing as she leaned past him to inspect the side of the building.

"The ledge can support ten stones weight at most," she stated evenly, eyes fixed to the brick, "assuming its structural integrity wasn't weakened by the blow. Either way, you're too heavy to walk the perimeter so you'll have to climb." Draco blinked as she pulled back and met his gaze with confidence and poise. "When you reach the buttress you can cross it like a balance beam and scale down the pier, or you can descend the clerestory wall to the triforium. However, that section of the roof isn't reinforced so if you step between the beams you'll most certainly fall through. Which also means if you fall off the buttress and land atop the triforium you'll plummet to your death."

Stunned silence permeated the room. Harry broke it first. "Get a safety rope."

"There still isn't time," Draco argued, tone lacking the acidic bite from moments ago. "I'll be careful—"

"You'll have Mione in tow on the way back, you can transfer the rope to her and break your neck for all I care."

Malfoy's jaw ticked. "Fine." He swung his leg back over, stepping away from the window. "Get me a goddamn rope. Fast."

"There's one in storage," Sirius replied, already en route to the door. "Nev, help me haul it up." Neville quickly followed him out, both men breaking into a run.

Harry dragged a hand over his face, skin crawling from the inactivity, the helplessness. Draco seemed similarly affected as they stared forlornly at the window, silently counting the seconds. And then a faint noise drifted in, causing them both to stiffen. "Do you hear that?" Harry muttered.

Draco tilted his head. "It's her."

"What's she saying?" Parvati asked, moving closer.

Harry braced the edge of the frame and held his breath, listening carefully. "I think…" He turned to the group, all eyes upon him. "... she's rhyming."

---

Hermione tore around the corner, body kept aloft solely by adrenaline. She navigated the empty halls with questionable memory and sheer luck, praying Ariana was ready for her. Time was up regardless.

The Dollmaker's rumbling laughter chased her at every turn, radiating through the ceiling and making it impossible to discern his location. It was only after she heard the distant crash of stone she realized he was punching holes through the retaining walls, destroying the Castle from the outside in. She slowed to a stop, breathing hard and gathering her hair in both hands, lifting it off her neck and trying to think. The residents were being evacuated through the courtyard, she had to buy them time. There was only one thing for it.

She'd have to act as bait. Again.

Bloody hell. She dropped her hair with a huff, shoulders slanting down. I may as well be a worm on a hook at this point. She inhaled sharply, intending to holler for his attention, stalling her attempt as muffled screams rang out. He was close to the courtyard. He'll tear them apart with his bare hands. She pressed her hands to her temples. Do something! Now!

"Polly, Pretty Polly, please come with me," she recited loudly, grasping the first random thought off the nonsensical pile, "before we get married there's so much to see. She got up behind him and away they did go, over hills and mountains into valleys so low."

His ominous laughter cut off abruptly. She wet her lips and stared at the ceiling, tense with anticipation.

"They rode a bit further and what did she spy? A newly-dug grave with a spade lying by."

"Stupid, selfish child…" The deep timber rattled her bones, vibrating the golden tile. "There's no escaping me."

"Polly, Pretty Polly, would you think me unkind to sit down beside you and tell you my mind?" She resumed her quick pace through the corridors. "My mind is to marry and never to part, for the first time I saw you it wounded my heart."

"I rule Wonderland and everything in it," he growled, the declaration triggering a tar-like substance to ooze from the molding, running down the walls in thick rivulets, knocking portraits from their hooks. Others were swallowed by the corrosive sludge, painted subjects fleeing their frames in silent terror. "You're already mine."

"But to keep you forever I must keep you here, there's no use in crying and no use in fear." A staircase waited around the next bend. She quickly ascended, panting with exertion. "Peter, dear Peter, please spare me my life! But deep in her bosom he plunged his sharp knife." She reached the upper-level seconds before a monstrous growl emanated from above. The walls trembled as a portion of the ceiling ripped away like tissue paper, massive stones raining down. She ran for cover beneath an alcove, shielding her head and shouting through the destruction. "He stabbed through her heart and her blood it did flow, then into the grave Pretty Polly did go!"

"Stop that incessant ballad!" He roared, sticking his arm through the hole and feeling blindly, jagged nails scraping the gemstone floor.

She lowered her arms as the rubble settled, carefully side-stepping the searching hand and sprinting for the archway. "He threw flowers beside her and turned to go home, and into the darkness her voice it did moan: Mother warned me, dear Peter, she saw evil in your eyes. So she told me, dear Peter, to pack a pistol last night."

The arm retracted, his snarling visage taking its place, the red sky reflected in his eyes. She met the demonic gaze and smiled, eagerly concluding her tale.

"Peter turned with his dagger and Polly pulled out her gun, she shot through his heart and his blood it did run. In the grave dug for Polly is where Peter fell. Now he lies just beside her while his soul burns in hell."

He bared his teeth and smashed both fists through the roof, caving in the stairs and reducing the wing to rubble. Hermione ducked into the empty corridor and laughed, confident she had his attention for the remainder of her stay.

---

"Come on!" Lavender shouted, waving the next in line forward. "Hurry!"

A young woman stared at the lip of the saucer with trepidation. "It's alright," Merope coaxed, gently leading her towards the stack. "They're perfectly safe."

The girl bit her lip, inspecting the porcelain surface with care. "Are you su—!" Her words careened into a startled shriek as Lavender pushed squarely between her shoulder blades and toppled her onto the saucer.

"Off you go!" The blonde dismissed impatiently, already waving the next in line along. The girl scrambled for purchase as the plate began to levitate, gliding smoothly into procession with the other floating dishes.

"Lavender!" Merope hissed.

Lavender ushered a man onto the next saucer, unphased by the sharp admonishment. "There isn't time to coddle," she explained tersely, signaling to a young woman standing nearby. "Come on! There's room for one more!" Her feline gaze narrowed as the girl slowly shuffled forward. "Mione's risking her neck keeping that bastard distracted, the sooner we empty the Castle the sooner I can help her."

"I'm coming with you," Padma called from the next row, assisting children into the teacups. Other adults helped her along, Dawn included.

Lavender shook her head. "No, they need you to lead them through the maze. You too, Dawn. It's too many for Padma to herd by herself." Her friends exchanged looks of reluctance. She took a steadying breath, affecting as light a tone as her nerves would allow. "It's okay. I just have to vex him long enough for Mione to get to the portal." Her lips quirked. "I can be quite vexing."

"No one can argue that," Merope readily agreed. "But I'm tagging along all the same."

Lavender turned, meeting the woman's steadfast gaze with a nod.

"Tagging along?" Cormac parroted, materializing from the crowd to torture her. "Tagging where?" She opened and closed her mouth, his accusing tone seizing her with inexplicable guilt. "You can't seriously be thinking of going back inside!" He fumed.

"Cormac—"

"The bloody Castle's falling apart! Look at it!" He gestured to the trembling structure at their backs, chunks of rock wall crumbling like sand. "It'll be a miracle if we can evacuate everyone in time!"

"Hermione needs my help."

"No, she doesn't. Between her giant brain and penchant for violence, she's perfectly capable of finding the bloody portal by herself."

She grasped his shoulder. "Get to the maze, help the others—"

"This isn't about me!" He shrugged off her hand and grabbed her arms, pulling her into his body. "Lav, don't go back inside."

Her eyes narrowed. "I'm not asking for permission."

"And I'm not forbidding. I'm begging. Please come with us." He swallowed thickly. "With me."

Her expression softened. "Cormac, the worst that can happen has already happened. To both of us." She overlaid her palms on his chest and pushed back. "I'll meet you on the ground when all this is finished."

His jaw ticked, hands falling away. "You could wind up in limbo."

"Then I'll count on you to lead me out." She leaned up to peck him on the lips. "Help them board the saucers." He sighed with resignation, letting her go at last. She turned to Merope. "Ready?" She prompted, starting forward at the woman's firm nod. And then a shocking yelp caused her to spin back around, halfway to her hammer when she spotted the source of Merope's distress.

Mowgli was perched upon her shoulder, blinking innocently at her pinched expression. Lavender straightened, smirking at the pair. "Trust me, he's handy in a fight." She tipped her chin to the Castle, resuming her quick path inside. "Let's go."

---

Black oil seeped from the walls, corrosive and thick, acid burning through the paneling. It appeared in every hall Hermione entered, rolling over baseboards and pooling at the center, flowing through the corridors like a sentient river. The Dollmaker's feral growl wasn't far behind, rising in pitch after she lost him three turns ago, doubling-back in the hopes of buying herself a few uninterrupted minutes with Ariana. He continued punching holes through the brick in his murderous pursuit, a frustrated shout following every ground-shaking explosion. Hermione silently prayed the residents had made it out in time and that Padma had followed. They stood no chance of navigating the maze without her.

The throne room appeared around the next turn. She sent a second prayer of thanks to whatever omniscient power was watching her misfortune unfold and sprinted ahead with renewed purpose, throwing the doors wide on a surge of adrenaline and rushing in. No sooner had she crossed the threshold than she was staggering sideways with her hands raised, desperately shielding her eyes from a powerful beam of blue light. The room was flooded with it, her senses overcome, but her pulse soon settled and her vision adjusted, allowing Hermione to pinpoint the source of the brightness.

A large portal of swirling light hovered in the corner, emitting sound like a massive wind-tunnel, though neighboring objects remained still and unaffected. The glow was mesmerizing, crystal blue and aquamarine rapidly circling a silver core. The vortex reminded her of the green dice except she couldn't see what dwelled on the other side, the mystery of the unknown making it all the more terrifying despite its beauty. It was then Hermione realized she couldn't see the woman responsible for its creation.

"Ariana?" She called into the vaulted space, quickly pacing inside. Prisms from the skylight danced across her blue-tinged flesh like colorful fish in a sea. The clock ticked loudly overhead. She gazed up, noting the position of the metal hands. Five minutes to twelve. "Ariana!"

Labored breathing could be heard near the portal. Her focus darted to the garden, pale skin peeking out between the leaves. She raced closer, pushing aside stalks and branches before lowering beside the unconscious figure in the soil. Ariana's visage was pallid and gaunt, more ghoulish than her ghostly counterpart.

"Oh my god," Hermione whispered, pushing blonde hair from her waxen face. She felt cool to the touch, chest rising and falling in shallow bursts. "Shite." Hermione's fingers were stiff and clumsy as she gripped the young woman by the shoulders and gently shook her. "Please wake up," she begged. Ariana furrowed her brow, pale lips moving soundlessly. Hermione inhaled sharply. "Ariana!" Her grip tightened as she rested her thighs beneath the girl's back to prop her head up. The jostling movement caused her to stir, bruised lids fluttering open. "Ariana, can you hear me?"

The woman in question blinked, meeting Hermione's upside-down stare with a dazed look. "Hermione…"

Hermione nodded eagerly, tucking a fallen curl behind her ear. "I'm here."

"The Jabberwocky…"

"We took care of it," Hermione assured, struggling to keep the mounting hysteria out of her voice. "Then the Dollmaker took its place, he's destroying the Castle." Ariana stiffened, deep blue gaze sharpening. "The residents are being evacuated," Hermione continued. "I led him on a winding path but it won't be long before he finds me."

Her companion glanced around, eyes lingering on a bushel of magenta buttercups drooping overhead. "I… must have fainted."

"You're in the garden," Hermione confirmed. "Were you trying to transform?"

The Queen shook her head and rubbed at her throat. "I was getting water." She attempted to sit, cringing with the effort and clutching her head.

Hermione steadied her. "Stay here," she instructed, rising swiftly and searching the glittering terrain. It was easy to spot the magnificent Fabergé egg perched on a nearby pedestal, beckoning her closer. The enamel shell was decorated with golden beads and faceted emeralds, the pain-staking detail so breathtaking she almost felt guilty touching it.

Almost.

Her fingers twitched before carefully tipping back its lid. The hinges bent with a click, revealing a solid gold interior and chestnut-sized diamond nestled at the center. She extracted the priceless gem and set it aside with nary a thought, taking the egg from its stand and rushing to the cascading wall of water. Cool liquid splashed across her front as she held the base beneath the raging fall, filling it to the brim. Then she was jogging to Ariana's side and lowering the golden chalice to her trembling grasp.

"Thank you," the blonde whispered hoarsely, taking an eager sip. Hermione chewed the inside of her cheek as she watched her companion gulp down the contents, certain she'd burst through her skin with impatience. Time was fleeting, each second precious. But she couldn't bring herself to voice such concerns aloud. Ariana was Wonderland's protector, driven to such a state in her attempt to help Hermione escape. She needed no reminder of the stakes. The young woman glanced up a moment later, smiling softly. "Let's get you home."

Hermione nodded her adamant agreement and offered a helping hand, fingers tightening when her host swayed precariously. "Ariana?"

"I'm quite alright," the blonde assured, pulling free of her grasp. "Just a bit light-headed, nothing to worry about."

Hermione wasn't so sure. The young Queen looked frightfully drained, pulsing blue light magnified in her chalky pallor. The swirling glow throbbed like a heartbeat and suddenly Hermione understood. "The portal is siphoning your strength…" Her expression tensed. "It's killing you."

Ariana grinned faintly, strained by the effort. "It's a cause worth dying for, as you well know."

Yes, she did. Still, Hermione wasn't certain Wonderland could survive losing its chosen sovereign. "What happens if…" She swallowed thickly, unable to voice the possibility aloud. "Will you go to limbo?" She inquired instead.

"I honestly don't know," Ariana replied breezily, even as she tipped sideways, steadied with Hermione's assistance. "Nor am I terribly concerned. Protecting Wonderland is my entire purpose for being. I'll do whatever it takes to accomplish that task."

Hermione took a deep breath, nodding resolutely. "I understand."

The portal hissed at her back, light flickering while its sputtering grew. Ariana cringed, clutching either side of her head. "It's becoming unstable, I can't control it much longer."

"Tell me the cure," Hermione urged, heart skipping as the blonde began to speak— but the words were drowned out by a deafening chime. They jolted, glancing to the clock. Both hands pointed to the massive ruby at top. Twelve. The mind-numbing ring continued to count down. To what, Hermione hadn't the faintest clue, but she had a strong inclination it wasn't good. She reached forward, gripping Ariana's shoulders and earning her tired gaze. "Hurry. The cure."

The blonde nodded, speaking above the rhythmic chime. "You need to—"

A dark mass passed above the skylight, smothering the prisms and bathing the room in shadow. They glanced up, mouths parting wide as a massive fist filled the glass. Hermione pulled Ariana to the wall as the hand burst through, shattering the kaleidoscope in an explosion of noise. Shards of every size rained down, pointed and lethal, smashing against the floor and scattering like crystal raindrops. The Dollmaker's enraged face appeared in the opening, casting a menacing glance over the room and baring his teeth when he spotted Hermione. And then his gaze flickered to the ethereal blonde at her side and his expression morphed into something far more unsettling… love and hatred, anger and longing, the amalgamation pulling taut the black stitching holding his flesh together.

"Ari," he breathed, voice haunted by a lifetime of unrequited obsession.

The object of his desire pushed off the wall and carefully paced forward. Hermione tried to reach for her but the young woman signaled for her to stay put, bare feet crunching broken glass. Bloody footprints marked her path until she stood directly beneath the broken skylight, holding his dark stare with effortless calm. "Hello, Gellert."

---

Draco scowled, smacking Longbottom's hand from his waist. "For Christ's sake, how long does it take to tie a bloody knot?"

The bumbling idiot shot him a withering glare before stepping back and tossing Draco the spare end of the rope. "Make sure to get this around Hermione, then feel free to take the scenic route down."

"Yes, everyone is keen on seeing me swan-dive off the chimney, I'm well aware. Now move."

Potter ignored the demand and crossed his arms, blocking the window. "Don't rush her—"

"I know," Draco snapped, trying to navigate around the human impediment.

"She's not herself—"

"I know."

Potter mirrored his expression. "Then get out there."

"Bloody imbecile," Draco growled, shouldering him aside at last. He gripped the edge of the pane as Theo, Black, and Longbottom took hold of the rope, forming a procession. He sat on the frame and fed his legs over the side, carefully toeing the ledge below.

"Remember Hannah's warning," Parvati instructed, hovering beside the curtain.

Draco clenched his teeth, trying to concentrate. "How could I forget?"

"Don't put your weight on the ledge," she stated anyway, basking in his annoyance. He ignored her words, searching out Hermione. She stood in the same spot, staring at the dark treeline bordering the property. A cloud passed before the full moon, dimming her otherworldly glow. He sighed deeply and turned his attention to the bricks, searching for decent a handhold before beginning his slow and arduous ascent. The rope chafed his waist with every movement but he felt distinctly grateful for its pretense. Still, he'd rather crack his head open on the stone below than admit such thoughts aloud.

His breathing hitched as he stepped off the ledge and clung to the wall like a cat with its claws in the curtain, limbs locked tight, fear holding him immobile. And then Hermione's soft murmur drifted over the swooping rooftop and imbued him with a fresh bolt of adrenaline. His jaw ticked, fingers sliding higher, feeling the shape of the bricks before finding his grip and stepping up. On and on it went, determination driving each motion until the buttress was within reach. He slung his arm over the top and hauled himself onto the ledge with a low grunt, shoulders burning with fatigue as he tried to catch his breath. Her feminine hum drew his focus, prompting him onto his hands and knees. She remained in the same spot but the rope prevented further progress. He scowled, giving it two quick tugs for more slack.

Potter stuck his head out of the window, ghastly hair sticking in every direction. "He's made it to the buttress!"

Draco wiped the sweat from his eyes as more rope was fed through. Hermione remained centered in his visual, swaying between the gargoyles as he crawled the narrow ledge. He reached the clerestory wall within a few moments and carefully climbed onto the brick. But the moment his weight settled his foot slipped, hands clawing the mortar as he slid to the nave rooftop. His foot broke through the thin covering, fire shooting up his calf, rope cutting into his waist. "Shite!" He hissed, leaning into the wall to relieve the roof of his weight. Hermione stiffened, glancing over her shoulder as he pulled his foot free, broken tiles tumbling down the incline and spilling off the edge.

"Malfoy!" Potter yelled.

Draco turned from the wall with an agonizing growl. "I'm fine!"

His ankle screamed in retaliation when he tried stepping forward. Goddammit. He shook his head, glancing up, but the space between the gargoyles stood empty. Terror flooded his system, overriding the pain."Hermione!" He shouted into the night, heart galloping wildly as he lurched forward without thought and stepped between the stone ribbing. His breath cut short as the shingles cracked, collapsing onto the flimsy wood frame beneath. He glanced down, watching a line form around his feet like a crack in a frozen lake. "Fuck," he muttered simply.

And then the bottom dropped out, Draco plummeting with it.

---

The decorative molding cut painfully into Hermione's spine as she watched the eye of the storm circle above, the eerie stillness foretelling great violence to come.

"Hello Gellert," Ariana greeted serenely, her unshakable calm prodding at Hermione's sanity.

The Dollmaker lifted a hand to his face, tracing its heavy stitching with bloody fingertips. "You must forgive my appearance," he uttered lowly. "The years have not been kind to me. And now I see why; they've paid all their favor to you." Hunger burned in his gaze, deepening his voice. "You look beautiful, Ari. As always."

"Wonderland gives as it receives," she replied evenly. "If you drench it with poison it will bestow the same unto you."

His smile reflected the churning sky, teeth glinting red. "I provide much-needed structure to a lawless dreamscape. Safety and reason where there was only violence and insanity. I single-handedly stopped Wonderland from destroying itself."

"By subjugating its people," she summarized curtly.

"By demanding loyalty and respect, as any good leader should."

Hermione bit her lip, watching the exchange as closely as Grindelwald watched Ariana. The young Queen garnered every ounce of his attention, turning Hermione into nothing more than a background shadow. She seized the opportunity by rising on tip-toes, fingertips skimming the wall as she crept towards the portal.

"A good leader is loved, not feared," Ariana challenged.

Patronizing laughter rolled like thunder from above. "You know very little of the world, my dear."

"That once was true," she acceded with a tilt of her head, pale hair spilling down her shoulder, drawing his feral gaze. "And then I endured far too much of the world for one lifetime. But none of those lessons live here. Wonderland has always been a part of me, and I part of it."

He swallowed thickly, entranced by the play of light across the white-blonde strands. "Just as you're a part of me."

"You possess no piece of me."

His eyes snapped up, narrowing at the rebuke. "Of course I do. How else could I have found you here? How else could we stand together, even in death? Your soul called and I answered."

"You are mistaken," she stated simply. The grind of teeth echoed off the vaulted ceiling, making Hermione cringe. She was halfway to her destination, concentration wavering between the swirling blue vortex and rapid-fire exchange unfolding at her front.

"Why do you deny it?" He demanded. "There's no shame in what we shared, no truth in the vicious lies Albus concocted to tear us apart."

"The only one appearing torn is you."

Ariana's serene disposition only served to agitate him further. He placed a palm over his cheek, hiding the stitching from view. "Because this wretched land has turned on me! Just as your heartless brother set you against me!"

"I jumped long before speaking with Albus. I knew he'd never reach London in time to save me."

"Save you?"

Hermione paused beside a crystal sculpture to grant the conversation her full attention, unable to look away.

"I cared for you once, Gellert," Ariana began slowly, as though choosing each word carefully. "Deeply and truly, without condition or expectation. But it was never the love you so desperately craved, the love you demanded." She folded her hands over her voluminous skirts. Hermione exhaled slowly, watching the color drain from his complexion with each word, black thread standing in stark relief. "I was flattered by your adoration, and then I was terrified of it. I never wanted to be the object of such desire. And I didn't want to spend the rest of my life pretending to share in those feelings for the trivial sake of survival. I jumped, Gellert, to rid myself of you."

Silence permeated the room like a toxic cloud. Hermione stood in rigid stillness, waiting for all hell to break loose, but Ariana remained perfectly indifferent to the dangerous tension thickening the air.

"I…" He muttered after a short eternity. "That doesn't—" His features darkened. "I came here for you! Everything I've ever done has been for you!"

"You kidnapped and enslaved countless men and women for your own twisted pleasure."

"That wasn't me, that was Him! I've been here all this time, trapped and decaying, waiting for you to come out of your bloody Castle!"

"And therein lies your biggest mistake," her tone sharpened at last, the air pressure changing with it. "Wonderland provides for those it invites. But you're an intruder. A trespasser. You've violated the natural order of things and now it's time for you to go."

Movement drew Hermione's gaze to the opposite wall. Black oil oozed from the ceiling, rolling down in thick rivulets. She craned her neck, spotting the corrosive tar above her head and pushing away from the wall just in time, watching it drip to the floor with a smoking hiss, eating through the gemstone. She glanced to Ariana, intent on warning her, but her focus was stolen away by the Dollmaker's grotesque transformation. Gleaming tar poured from his mouth and spilled past his chin, dripping through the broken skylight in tacky strings. Ariana calmly stepped aside as his eyes turned black, oil seeping from the corners like tears, running along his stitching and off his jaw, joining the growing pool on the floor.

Hermione staggered forward, intent on pulling the blonde away, but the sludge moved as though alive, cutting off her path by forming a circular moat around the girl. Her pulse thrummed as she searched the room for some means of assistance.

"Hermione!"

She gasped at the familiar voice, glancing to the portal in disbelief. "Draco?" She whispered, wondering if she imagined the outburst. And then her surroundings fell unnaturally quiet and still, drawing her gaze up. The Dollmaker's horrifying countenance was fixed upon her. "The fairer sex indeed," he hissed like a viper, oil oozing thicker, faster, propelled by his rising ire. "Treacherous liars, the lot of you."

Hermione glanced to Ariana, calling desperately. "Tell me the cure!"

"Enough!" He roared, reaching down and backhanding the blonde sideways. Ariana went airborne, too weak to coordinate her fall as she skidded into the garden, uprooting flowers and ferns before rolling to a halt at its leafy center. Her body remained twisted in a motionless heap as the portal squealed, blue light strobing frantically.

The Dollmaker set to work tearing a wider hole in the ceiling, debris raining down like cannonballs. Hermione darted for the garden while dodging falling stones when a massive hand reached down. She ducked out of its path only to slip in a pool of oil, falling on her bum and scrambling for purchase as monstrous fingers seized her ankle.

"As I said…" He dragged her through the rubble and sludge before lifting her off the ground entirely, watching her claw desperately at the air with a cruel grin. "You won't be leaving this place alive."

---

Draco's breath escaped in a strangled shout, lost to the wind rushing past his face as he hurtled down the two-story drop. He closed his eyes, braced for a bone-crushing impact that never came. Instead, it felt as though he was being cut in half, the rope pulling tight and halting his plunge halfway to the marble floor. He rotated slowly, legs dangling in the open-air as he clutched the rope and struggled to breathe, certain his heart would explode.

Distant shouts drifted through the hole in the ceiling, lost to the surge of blood in his ears. He swallowed thickly, staring at chunks of roofing on the ground as the men started hauling him up one jerking tug as a time. He leaned his forehead against the rope, erratic pulse settled by the time he reached the opening, hands fumbling for purchase as he grasped the edge and pulled, feet scrambling over the side, lungs pumping with exertion.

"I've got it," he muttered, coughing into his fist. The rope continued to draw tight, dragging him over the slanted roof. "Stop!" He yelled, gritting his teeth as the tension eased.

"What the hell happened?" Potter called.

"What the hell do you think?" Draco snapped, then blinked as something wet hit the side of his face. He glanced to the black sky, realizing for the first time he couldn't see a single star. Thunder rolled in the distance, raindrops dripping across the stone in a relentless patter. "For fuck's sake…" He cast a sweeping glance along the edge of the roof, no brainwashed women in sight. "Hermione?" He rolled to his knees, carefully positioning his feet atop the beams and rising. His sprained ankle throbbed in time to his heart but adrenaline curbed the worst of the pain. The rain fell faster, louder. He formed a megaphone with his hands. "Hermione!"

Nothing.

He navigated the incline with quick, nervous steps, checking his momentum against a gargoyle and clutching its wings for balance as he peeked over the side of the roof, unsure how to prepare himself for the sight of Hermione's twisted corpse. Rain glistened across the decorative stones, moonlight turning the lawn into a rippling sea. But no broken body lay atop its surface, beckoning such a powerful surge of relief he nearly toppled over, leaning into the sculpture to stay upright. From the corner of his eye, he spotted a flash of white. He whipped his head around to find Hermione tiptoeing along the edge of the pier, damp skirt clinging to the brick. He pushed off from the gargoyle and began to follow, the rope jerking him to a halt after only a few steps. He pulled twice but instead of slack, he received Theo's frustrating announcement.

"We're out!"

Draco rubbed his brow, rain dripping down his nape and soaking his collar. Getting the rope around her waist was a priority. He watched her edge further and further away, nearly to the corner where she'd certainly change direction and slip out of sight. "Please," he breathed, body pulsing with every heartbeat as he called over the rain. "Hermione Granger!"

She stepped off the ledge and onto the roof, glancing over her shoulder.

"Where are you going?" He yelled.

She tilted her head, hair glistening with rain. "To the blue light."

Draco blinked at the unexpected response. "What light?"

"It's dimming."

He hadn't the faintest bloody clue what she was on about. And as her eyes started to drift, he suspected she didn't either. No matter. He'd gotten her attention, and most importantly, he'd gotten her to stand still. Now to keep her distracted long enough to reach her side. "It sounds… beautiful," he offered, fumbling with the knot around his waist. "I'd like to see. Will you show me?"

Her eyes flitted to him, flat and lifeless.

"Stay there," he instructed, forcing his tone to remain unaffected. "I'll come to you and we can look at it together." The knot refused to budge, the complicated loop alluding his frazzled mind and rain-slick fingers. Fucking Longbottom. Panic set in when she turned away. "Do you want to know a secret?" He called desperately, heart battering his ribs as she rocked to a hard-stop and gazed back a second time.

"Secret?" Her voice held a familiar curiosity that tightened his stomach. He continued to struggle blindly with the rope, holding her gaze over the snarling gargoyle head.

"Yes. I made a vow I'd tell you once we were reunited. But when I found you in the woods I came up short yet again." He felt a portion of the knot loosen, hope restored. "Then I meant to tell you at Grimmauld but I started a row and stormed out instead. Terribly clever, aren't I?" He unfastened the top loop and ground his teeth anew, another cluster of knots dwelling beneath.

Fucking hell. I'm tethered tighter than a ship at port.

"I've always been afraid of the words. Now I'm terrified of wasting another second leaving them unspoken." The rain grew stronger. He took a deep breath, clinging to his last vestige of patience. "I had this idea of you in my mind. An idea of our future. An escape from my life, my title and burdens." Bitter laughter drifted from his lips like smoke, quickly absorbed by the storm. "Always me."

She turned to face him fully, perched on the narrow edge like a bird. Water dripped from the ends of her hair and pooled at her toes, dress soaked through.

"I assigned a role for you in my mind and blamed you for not meeting the expectations you never agreed to. I clung to fantasy for so long… but it was a pale reflection of the real thing. A life together requires compromise. Sacrifice." His father's stricken expression flashed before his mind's eye, causing his fingers to fumble the rope. He shook the image loose, rain streaming from his chin. "I was never willing to meet you halfway. It was always all or nothing. What I wanted or nothing. I see that now. And I'm sorry." Thunder rolled overhead, closer, vibrating the stone beneath their feet. "I'm so sorry, Hermione."

The noise settled as a cloud passed before the moon, plunging the city into darkness. His pulse spiked, desperation growing as he battled the never-ending knots.

"You've already apologized tonight," she spoke from the shadows.

His shoulders sloped as the rain came faster, attempting to drown him in his own misery. "I have a lot to amend for."

The cloud dissipated, moonlight illuminating the downpour in a white, pounding sheet. "As do I," she replied evenly.

The words were baffling. He shook his head. "You've done nothing wrong."

"I'm failing them."

He didn't bother asking who. "You saved them, Hermione. We stopped the auction, the girls are at St. Mung—"

"The light is fading, I have to go."

He surged forward as she turned on her heel with surprising dexterity, as though scaling roofs was her favorite pastime. The rope yanked him back like a ripcord. "Please stay," he begged, tugging the knot with both hands and fantasizing about strangling Longbottom until the life drained from his dumbfounded eyes. "I need your help getting back."

She placed her hand to the side of a buttress, staring at him in a way that read far too knowing for his comfort. "You made it here on your own, Draco. You don't need me to show you the way."

He swallowed thickly, working his fingertips between the center loop. "I got here by following you."

She studied his face with slow precision, the examination rendering him motionless, stripped bare. And then she found whatever she was searching for, a gentle sadness rippling across her features. "Goodbye, Draco."

"Wait!" He reached forward, tripping over the base of the gargoyle in his haste. Her skirt left a trail of wetness as she dashed along the ledge and turned the corner, disappearing behind the sloping arches. "Fuck!" He growled, dragging a hand over his face to clear his vision. His shoulders rolled with tension as he directed the entirety of his focus upon the damned fucking knot, knuckles cracking while his fingers set to work, absorbed in their task.

The final loop came loose at long last, rope uncoiling like a snake before dropping to the stone with a splash. He took a steadying breath and passed the gargoyle, stepping onto the raised ledge with a quiet groan, his ankle protesting the motion. But there wasn't time for fear or apprehension, only decisive action. He held his arms aloft and started along the narrow perimeter, rain battering his shoulders as the unforgiving stone watched him from below.

---

Hermione thrashed and clawed at the air, the pressure on her ankle so great she was certain her foot would sever. The portal flickered wildly, blue light painting the tar-coated walls in frantic bursts. "Ariana!" She screamed, craning her neck to peer at the garden. She could only see bare feet lying pale and motionless atop the grass.

"Ari needs her beauty rest." His grating laughter spilled down her spine like ice. "You're all alone, my dear. Whatever will you do without your friends to save you?"

She met the Dollmaker's black gaze as he lifted her towards the skylight. "I'm never alone."

"Is that so?" He made a grand show of glancing around the otherwise vacant room. "Well then, where are—"

"I'm here!" Came the bright announcement from below. Hermione glanced to the doorway with a wide grin as Lavender charged inside like a Valkyrie to war, Mowgli galloping at her side.

"Perfect timing as always," Hermione mused, blood pounding in her ears as it pooled in her head.

"What did I miss?"

"Oh, just the usual."

"Are you both always this unbearable?" He hissed.

"Yes," they replied in unison. Lavender smirked, stopping beneath Hermione's dangling form and twirling her hammer. "And we're just getting started," she said before throwing the weapon with all her might. It spun end over end, glinting in the blue light before hitting his knuckle with a loud thwack. A shocked gasp escaped his lips, along with a torrent of crude oil as his fingers sprung apart on reflex, sending Hermione hurtling for the gemstone floor.

She screamed, unable to break her fall with anything but her neck. Lavender dove to catch her but before they could make contact the Dollmaker snatched her kicking foot from the air and hoisted her up again. Lavender leaped with a graceful flourish, catching her flailing hands. Hermione grimaced, spine stretched thin as both girls were lifted off the ground. Mowgli darted to the wall, scaling shelves and clinging to brick as he made his way to the ceiling. Hermione met her companion's amber stare as they ascended.

"Sorry," Lavender offered.

"No worries, I love hanging out with you."

The blonde smirked. "That's not what I'm apologizing for."

Hermione raised a curious brow before gasping as Lavender transformed before her eyes, soft orange fur filling her hands. And then claws took their place, scrambling for purchase against Hermione's flesh. She bit her tongue to smother an anguished cry as Lavender scaled her arms and bodice, nails gouging like knives, leaving bloody tracks in their wake. The dexterous feline crouched low, using Hermione's hip like a springboard to the massive hand. She wasted no time reopening every wound and leaving new scars to match, shredding the pale flesh with a feral snarl.

The Dollmaker released a string of expletives along with a river of black slime, Hermione twisting like an acrobat to avoid the downpour. Meanwhile, Mowgli reached the ceiling at last, swinging from the beams as though traversing the jungle canopy, arriving at the scene of the crime in a blur of green. He leaped for the oversized arm, scaling the blood-stained fabric to join Lavender in the attack. The Dollmaker hissed and spat, trying to shake off his attackers without relinquishing hold of his captive. Hermione pressed her hands to her mouth, desperately quelling the urge to vomit as she was tossed about like a ragdoll.

She kicked with her free leg, heel jabbing his knuckle like a spike until finally, he released her. It wasn't until she was plummeting to the ground that she realized the folly of her plan and screamed anew, crashing atop the pillows at the base of the throne. Her lungs deflated with a grunt as she bounced and rolled down the velvet steps, landing at the bottom in a breathless heap. The Dollmaker roared overhead and flung his fur-covered attackers across the room. Lavender twisted mid-air and landed in the pond while Mowgli tumbled into the garden in an explosion of leaves and petals.

Hermione sat up with a groan, aching down to her bones as she watched a blonde head emerge from the stream. Lavender gripped the edge of the pool with a narrowed gaze and hoisted herself out, sopping wet from hair to hemline. She staggered to her feet and wrung her long tresses, water splashing her boots. Hermione tried pushing to her feet but the sting across her arms slowed her progress, claw marks raking her flesh in angry red lines. "Ow," she uttered pointedly.

Lavender glanced up with a sympathetic cringe. "Sorry again."

The Dollmaker growled and tore at the skylight to enlarge the opening. More stones rained down, cracking atop the floor and exploding in every direction like shrapnel. Both women scrambled back, taking cover on opposite ends of the room. Mowgli raced to Hermione's side, finding shelter behind her boots as footsteps raced down the hall. A moment later Merope charged inside, then staggered to a halt as she took in the destruction before her. The Dollmaker turned his oil-slick gaze upon her and smiled obscenely, chin gleaming black. "Ah, Merope. I'd nearly forgotten what a vision you make."

Her eyes burned with hatred.

"Tell me," he goaded, "how is your darling boy these days?"

She scowled, murderous visage so reminiscent of her son Hermione was rendered speechless until the grey eyes were turned upon her, piercing to the core.

"What are you still doing here?"

Hermione blinked, then gestured to the hundred-meter madman. "I ran into a bit of a roadblock."

He reached his hand inside the room, the hole large enough to fit his arm up to the shoulder. Merope evaded his reach by ducking into the hall while Hermione bolted for the steps, Mowgli taking off in the opposite direction.

"Get to the portal, Lavender and I will distract him!" Merope shouted, peeking around the wall as Hermione dived behind the throne.

"No, Lavender and I will distract him while you wake Ariana. She hasn't told me the—"

"Stop talking about me like I'm a bloody child!" He screamed, grabbing the throne and tossing it across the room like a toy prop. The chair exploded against the clock, snapping off its hour hand before hitting the ground in pieces. "I am your Master, your Creator, your God! You're nothing but—"

"Bloody hell, does he have an off switch?" Lavender called from the waterfall, gaze sweeping the rubble in search.

Hermione skidded down the steps as his hand closed in behind her. "I'm sure cutting out his heart will do the trick."

"That's assuming he has one."

"I intended to kill you quickly," he growled. "Now I plan to torture you one at a time while the other watches."

Hermione rolled her eyes, the threat meaningless and uninspired. And then she caught sight of what Lavender was searching for.

The hammer.

The blonde spotted her fallen weapon in the same instant. They both raced forward, only to scatter back as he reached inside with his other hand, black fingernails skimming their skirts. Lavender evaded his clutches by transforming, easily out-maneuvering him in feline form. And though Hermione didn't have the benefit of shrinking on command, she managed to dodge his clutches by accident, slipping in a pile of dark goo and sliding on her bum. She kept the momentum going by rolling sideways and springing to her feet, changing direction before he had time to intercept.

As the Dollmaker remained preoccupied with rendering them limb from limb, Mowgli took the hammer in his tail and Merope slipped inside, the latter remaining undetected until the sprite sprinted past her still figure and drew the Dollmaker's black gaze with him. The giant growled under his breath and reached for her. Merope froze, lost to terror. Hermione paused her frantic sprint to search out a weapon as Lavender transformed back, taking her hammer from Mowgli and charging to the woman's aid. But before she could offer assistance he backhanded the blonde with careless ease, knocking her off her feet and into a stone slab. Her head cracked against the solid barrier, hammer dropping as her eyes turned dazed. And then he turned his sights back on Merope.

She sank to the floor as his massive palm closed in, fingertips grazing her bent knees as Mowgli leaped to her rescue, landing on the oversized thumb and breaking the skin in one clean bite. The Dollmaker hissed and flicked his wrist, dislodging the sprite into Merope's lap. She grabbed the creature around the middle and scurried sideways, taking shelter behind the waterfall.

"I grow tired of these mindless games," he uttered darkly, oil glistening across his lips like blood. "It's time to finish this."

"Then let's finish it!" Hermione shouted, earning his attention quite effectively. He drove both fists down, cracking the floor. She leaped away, narrowly avoiding the blows, staggering sideways as he raised his arms and struck again. She dodged back and forth as his bloody and bruised fists rained down, trying to predict his movements like a mouse evading a shovel. Then Lavender stumbled forward like a drunk, concussed and armed. Hermione shook her head. "Stay back!" She yelled, refusing to lose her friend to the monster a second time.

As expected, the blonde refused to balk. "Fat chance," she muttered, tipping sideways with vertigo. From the corner of her eye, Hermione saw Merope crawling towards the garden, and then a fist came swinging at her head and she was forced to dive, teeth clacking with the crash. Mowgli attempted to distract him like a green shoo-fly while Lavender swung her hammer so hard she fell over, but not before breaking the Dollmaker's little finger with a satisfying crack. He howled in agony, ripping the injured hand away and reaching for her with the other. Lavender scrambled back, too disoriented to evade his grasp. He seized her round the middle with her arms trapped at her sides, hammer pinned uselessly to her thigh.

"No!" Hermione screamed, watching in horror as he lifted the blonde off the ground.

"Insolent whore," he hissed, squeezing tight. Lavender grimaced, face turning a blotchy red as every bone threatened to shatter.

Hermione began rummaging through the rubble for anything she could wield, yet all she found were chunks of rock too heavy to throw. She glanced to the garden in despair, spotting Merope with an unconscious Ariana in her arms, a sputtering vortex at their sides. Merope held her gaze, lips forming a simple, silent plea.

Go.

Hermione fell still, mind reeling. Go?

Absolutely not.

She closed her eyes and tried to summon her flames, praying they would save her once again. Come on, please, I need you… Sparks licked at her fingertips but Lavender's keening cry broke her focus. She gazed up, a glint of metal catching her eye. "Drop the hammer!" She shouted, springing to her feet and reaching out desperately.

But Lavender couldn't loosen her grip. Hermione wracked her brain, thinking of her blade and how it responded to her silent bidding. She didn't bear the same connection to the hammer but was willing to try anything, so she focused all of her energy upon the tool, pulse leaping as the handle twitched, though she suspected it was the result of Lavender's arm spasming as it broke.

The blonde screamed shrilly, tears streaming down her flushed face. Hermione cried as well, tortured by her helplessness. But she forced her mind to focus on the hammer, beckoning the weapon with every fiber of her being. She rose on tiptoes, stretching her body as high as possible without dislocating her joints. Every cell became attuned to obtaining the tool. Nothing else mattered.

Lavender's choking gag echoed above, lungs strangled in a vice and head lolling, blonde hair dripping down his fingers as her lips turned blue. Hermione closed her eyes, clinging to her final thread of sanity.

Please come. Please come to me.

Her ears perked as a faint whistle started in the distance.

Please, I can't fail them.

The whistling grew louder as Lavender's breathing became fainter, both sounds fading to the background as she sent one last desperate plea to the ether.

I need you.

The whistling turned piercing, painful, making her eyebrow twitch and shoulder blades tighten. And then something smacked against her palm, long and slender, signaling her fingers to curl on instinct. She rocked back with the force of her shock, recognizing the feel of the handle as intimately as her own face. The electrical current that followed was just as familiar and staggering.

She opened her eyes.

Her blade stood proudly in her grasp, its handle scorched and filigree blackened. But the metal remained strong, flawless, gleaming with a vibrancy that rivaled the portal. It sang in her hand as though bidding her greeting, a low hum that radiated down her arm and into her chest, unleashing a flood of warmth that seeped down to her toes.

"Welcome back, old friend," she whispered fondly, then flipped the blade with effortless skill, predicting its movements as though controlling them herself. She caught the handle and threw the knife into the back of the hand imprisoning her friend. It struck deep, slicing through muscle like warm butter before wedging firmly between his metacarpals, blood oozing. Her eyes narrowed and the blade sunk deeper, striking a nerve. His hand sprang open like a steel trap, its prey falling to the ground in a sprawl.

Hermione summoned her blade and raced to her friend's side, gripping her shoulders as she attempted to rise. "You're done fighting."

"Fat chance," Lavender breathed thinly, ribs clearly fractured.

Hermione set her jaw, prepared to argue the point further when the portal groaned and flickered, startling Mowgli to their sides. "Ariana's fading," she stated gravely, turning to the garden as a familiar voice called from the blue light.

"Do you want to know a secret?"

She stiffened, more alarmed by his anguished tone than the actual words. "Secret?" She echoed, spots appearing across her vision the longer she stared into the glowing abyss.

And then the Dollmaker's enraged snarl shook the ground and ensnared her attention completely. Blood dripped from the bone-deep gash in his hand, flowing down his wrist and darkening his sleeve. "Vicious bitch!" He roared.

Hermione stood swiftly, boots braced apart. "Oh boy do you have that right." She held her knife at the ready and smiled, gaze reflected in the glittering blade. "And we're just getting started."

---

Draco bit his tongue to stifle a groan, ankle grinding with every agonizing step. The rain muddled his view, overpowering his senses but for the blood pounding in his ears. The roof appeared different without the weight of the rope, corners sharper and arches steeper, a curving deathtrap glistening in the pale moonlight. Hermione stood equally transformed at the other end of the wall, posture brimming with confidence that confounded all logic, for it came paired with a suicidal longing that seemed to grow the longer she stared at the hard rocks below.

"Jumping won't solve anything!" He called, causing her to glance up. "And it certainly won't help his victims! They need you alive and fighting in their corner, your friends need you, I—" He sighed, shaking his head and proceeding carefully as though approaching a skittish mare. "You aren't thinking clearly, luv. There's nothing up here. No blue light."

Her eyes shone clearly through the downpour, steady with resolve. "I'm going, Draco. You can't stop me."

"I'm willing to let you go," he acceded, eager to keep her engaged. "But not like this. You deserve a future, Granger. And if I'm not a part of that future, so be it. I want you to lead your life however you see fit. As long as you're happy, as long as you live." She blinked, expression tensing as though his words had breached the surface of her glass prison. He wet his lips, pulse throbbing with every step. "People keep asking if what I feel for you is real… and deep down I was never truly certain of the answer. Until now." He filled his lungs slowly, approaching another gargoyle and using its pedestal as an anchor. Telling her like this seemed a cruel mockery of the words themselves. But she watched him with steely focus and he'd do anything to keep her from taking another step. "I love you, Hermione."

He felt light-headed with the release, injury long-forgotten as his consciousness floated above the scene like a phantom, cursed to watch but unable to intervene. Her shoulders drew level at his admission, hazel eyes flickering. He let go of the gargoyle and started across the final divide, words spilling free beyond his control. "It may have started as infatuation and obsession but it's changed, just like I've changed. I see things clearly now and I love you for who you are, not what you might be. I love you enough to say goodbye. Because simply loving you makes me want to be a better man and I'll carry that with me wherever I go."

Rain saturated his vision. He wiped at his eyes, fire burning behind his lids and inside his chest, but her blurry figure remained his beacon in the storm, guiding each shaky step forward. Water poured off the roof in a deafening cascade. He shouted above the crashing waves. "But please don't deny yourself a future. Don't deny yourself the chance to fulfill your dreams. You deserve happiness more than anyone." Barely two meters stood between them. His knees quaked with the urge to leap for her but he stayed the desire with every last ounce of willpower. "Don't jump."

Her face crumpled, cheeks ruddy beneath the downpour. He held his breath for a second time, close enough to touch her, to hear her pained whisper— "At least it can't get any worse."

His heartbeat echoed the rolling thunder as she spun on her heel and leaped off the roof.

---

Hermione grinned with dark anticipation as the Dollmaker swung a fist at her head, slashing forward with blurring speed, weapon weightless in her grasp. The blade sliced into his index finger, scraping the bone like a whetstone before cutting straight through, severing the appendage in a clean snap. It hit the ground with a dull thunk, curling softly before blackening with decay. He howled with agony, pulling his hand away as dark blood spurted forth, splattering the floor like a fountain. She sprinted through the mist, leaping rubble and glass on wobbly legs, vision clouded by adrenaline, balanced only by the blade in her hand.

The air pressure changed, red droplets raining down as a heavy shadow descended. His thunderous growl announced the incoming hand, the acrid tang of blood filling her mouth as she braced for impact. But she was charged from the side instead, knocked off her feet and pinned flat by a soft and heaving weight. The fist sailed overhead, knuckles breaking against the wall, plaster crumbling.

"Get to the portal!" Merope demanded, long hair spilling across Hermione's face as she sputtered.

"Ariana never told me the cure!"

"You just have to say—" her words dissolved into a scream as the Dollmaker snatched her up like a ragdoll. She bared her teeth and beat uselessly at his iron grasp.

"Oh Merope, still a thorn in my side," he pondered menacingly, black sludge trailing across his face like tears. "You'll do well to recall what happened the last time you stood in my way."

"You're a monster," she hissed.

"Sticks and stones, my dear." He tilted his head, teeth and tongue stained black. "What did you think would happen? You'd actually get married and live happily ever after?" She scowled in the face of his mocking laughter. "So naive. I did you a favor. You were nothing but a lowly nurse chasing him through the halls like a lovestruck fool. I made you interesting, set you apart. If not for me, Thomas would have grown bored within a week's time."

Merope quelled her struggles. "Is that why you gave him the ultimatum?"

His eyes flashed, amusement draining as quickly as the blood from his hand. "You know nothing—"

"I know everything," she challenged, leaning forward with the strength of her conviction. "You denied my every chance at happiness and any possibility of being a mother. But you won't deprive me of revenge. You will burn, Gellert, alone and miserable like the pathetic excuse for a man you are."

"Perhaps," he conceded darkly, the red sky reflected across his black gaze. "But you won't be there to see it." His nose twitched as he tossed his captive like a discarded rag.

"Merope!" Hermione screamed, playing helpless witness as the woman careened through the air and collided against the opposite wall, hitting the ground in a slumped heap, blood running from her temple. Hermione took a step closer before narrowly dodging a massive fist as it made ground-shaking impact beside her head. She struck with her blade, slicing along the heel of his palm before he smacked her sideways like a gnat. She rolled half a dozen times, losing hold of her blade as glass cut into her arms, a pile of bricks halting her momentum. Her teeth snapped with the impact, a faint ringing in her ears. She blinked away the double-vision in time to catch a flash of green.

Mowgli intercepted the bloody fingers before they reached her, landing atop the severed knuckle and biting deep, drawing forth a sharp wail that trembled the walls. The Dollmaker ripped the sprite away by his tail and slung him across the room as Hermione struggled to sit upright, equilibrium shot. He tightened his blood-crusted fist and raised it over her head, chest heaving like a bull. She tried to scramble back but tipped sideways instead, curling into the fetal position as his shadow fell upon her.

"Gellert!"

Hermione gasped, peeking through her arms as Ariana staggered out of the garden, face whiter than chalk, hand trembling against her middle. "Please don't do this," she implored.

The Dollmaker withdrew his fist, Hermione forgotten in an instant. "You think you have any sway over me now? After everything you've done?"

"What have I done?"

His black lips opened and closed, stitching frayed by outrage. "What have you done? You led me on, stoked the flames of my desire to receive special treatment!"

"You threatened to lobotomize me and trapped me in the attic."

"And you've trapped me in this hell for half a century!"

Hermione slowly uncurled, fingers twitching as she reached across the floor, silently calling for her blade.

"The key to escape has always been in your hands," the ethereal blonde continued. "It's your obsession that keeps you prisoner, not I." She allowed her words to sink into his mangled flesh. "Let me go, Gellert, and set yourself free."

"Let you go?" He echoed with an acidic grin. "You are mine, Ariana, and I'll tear apart your pretty Castle and burn this cursed land to the ground before I bow my head in surrender!"

His words snapped like a whip but Ariana remained unmoved. "So be it," she uttered calmly, folding her hands behind her back. "If you won't bow your head in surrender, you'll do so in death."

He snarled and reached forward. She made no attempt to evade his shredded fingers, merely held his narrowed gaze as Hermione's blade slid into her waiting palm. She gave the handle a reassuring squeeze before launching it at the skylight with all her strength. The blade pulsed blue, powered by its own magic, and completed the journey of its own accord, spinning rapidly before lodging to the hilt inside the Dollmaker's chest, piercing his breastbone with a crack and plunging into his heart. He sputtered, body seizing as he peered down with wide eyes.

"Goodbye, Gellert," Ariana said.

He screamed, lifting his hand as though to backhand her. Hermione clenched her jaw and stood, lifting her hand and summoning her weapon. It sliced down his chest before dislodging, carving a wide gash. He pressed both hands to the wound, trying to staunch the flow to no avail, fingers drenched in red.

The portal hissed as Ariana fell to her knees, bracing her hands to the floor and gazing up with bloodshot eyes. "Finish it," she panted, fighting to stay conscious.

Hermione caught her blade with a nod, then cast her glare upward, watching blood and tar ooze from his gaping maw, trailing down his neck and chest. She took a steadying breath and beckoned her flames, feeling the embers stir in her chest, aware of her call but unable to ignite.

The portal whined again, dimming as the edges shrunk, Ariana trembling with the strain. The noise drew the Dollmaker's gaze, followed by his rage. He gave up his futile efforts at mending the wound and reimagined his goal of smashing Hermione to a fine powder. She dodged his mighty swing as a voice tumbled free of the dying portal.

"I love you, Hermione."

She gasped, stumbling in her shock and falling to the ground. The words continued, echoing from the bottom of a well.

"I love you enough to say goodbye. Because simply loving you makes me want to be a better man and I'll carry that with me wherever I go."

She straightened with determination, calling her flames again. "I'm coming home," she vowed before igniting like a match, black flames encasing her in a shadowy aura.

The Dollmaker swung his fist, catching sight of her transformation a moment too late. He tried to withdraw but his oil-coated fingers made contact, lighting like a wick. He yelled frantically, attempting to beat out the fire with his other hand. But her flames hungrily consumed all in their path, feeding off the black tar until his entire body was engulfed. She cringed at his shrill cries, unable to look away as he clawed at his face, tearing the stitching wide. His flesh peeled away like burnt cloth, revealing a charred skull beneath, jaw chattering in agony.

A crunch sounded behind her. Hermione spun, blade and flames lifting high. Lavender raised her uninjured hand, Mowgli blinking owlishly on her shoulder. "It's me," she announced, giving Hermione's flickering aura an appreciative once over. "Show off."

Hermione grinned, lowering her weapon. "What's the use of superpowers if you can't kill a few people?"

"Deeply philosophical."

She extinguished her flames, quickly sobering. "Is Merope—"

"Alive. Just knocked out cold." Lavender grabbed Hermione's elbow and edged her aside as the Dollmaker collapsed over the wall, torso hanging limp as the flames lapped across his skeleton.

The skull pivoted, black sockets fixed upon her. "You… haven't… won," he muttered, words awkward and clipped without the benefit of lips.

Hermione raised her chin, maintaining his sightless gaze. "It was never about me winning. It was about you losing." A meaningful beat. "And you just lost."

He ground his teeth as though preparing to speak but his jaw snapped off before making a sound, hitting the floor and cracking in half. But their victory was short-lived; the portal sputtered and coughed, shrinking further.

"Ariana!" Hermione called, rushing to the young woman as she tipped over, breathing strained. Mowgli reached her first, pawing anxiously at her arm while Hermione collapsed at her side, tucking the blade in her boot and taking her face in hand.

"Thank… you," Ariana whispered, lids heavy. And then her eyes rolled back in her head and her body fell limp.

"No," Hermione uttered, shaking her head. "I need the cure!" She tightened her grip, searching the slackened features in panic. "What do I say? A trigger word? A phrase? Ariana!"

Lavender reached their side, watching the scene unfold. "She didn't tell you?"

Hermione glanced up, desperation shining in her eyes. "Do you know it?"

"She only confided in Merope." Her friend glanced across the room. "But she's out of commission."

"We have to wake them," Hermione stated firmly, dread tightening her throat. "I can't go back without it."

"There isn't time, the portal is closing."

Hermione shook Ariana again, heart sinking as her pale head lolled. "I can't go back without the cure! It's the entire reason I came!"

"You don't have a choice!"

"I can't leave them trapped!"

"We'll figure out something else but if you don't leave right bloody now you'll be trapped."

"Ariana can open another portal when she has the strength—"

"It took her years to harness the strength for this one!" She grabbed Hermione's elbow and hauled her to her feet. "You aren't wasting away here! You aren't dead!" She began dragging her towards the whining vortex as Mowgli gazed on nervously.

"I'm not going back!" Hermione challenged, digging in her heels.

"Yes you are, I don't care if I have to throw you into the bloody light myself!"

The portal grew louder the closer they stumbled, a sputtering engine about to die. Hermione choked back a sob, tears streaming as she attempted to reason with her jailer. "I can't fail them, Lavender. I'd rather be trapped inside Wonderland than return empty-handed. I don't deserve to go home if I can't offer them the same freedom."

Lavender slowed, expression softening though her grip remained iron-strong. "You've done all you can for them here, Mione. Outside you still have a chance at finding the cure and killing the real Dollmaker before he takes any more victims." Hermione swallowed thickly, each word stabbing at her heart. "The final battle sits on the other side of that portal. You have to return."

Hermione closed her eyes as the fire popped and crackled at their backs, his skeleton roasting like a dry log. "... alright," she breathed, tasting smoke on the back of her tongue. "I'll go."

Something tugged at her sleeve. She assumed it was Mowgli, dismissing the sensation and taking a mournful step towards the portal until chills erupted down her nape, a deep whisper grazing the shell of her ear.

"The cure is simple, so plain it's sublime; say the magic word, repeated three times."

She gasped, twirling around in time to see a sharp smile dissolve into mist. "What's the magic word?" She frantically asked the air. Lavender released her as she spun in aimless circles. "What's the magic word, Bernard?" Her fists balled tight. "Get back here, you invisible bastard!"

"Mione," her friend murmured. "I think you might have finally cracked."

"There's no might about it," Hermione agreed flatly, rubbing her temples. "I need to get home before I start naming the rocks." The blonde nodded, taking her hand as they rushed to the sputtering vortex.

The opening had shrunk so much they had to lean over to peer inside. And as Hermione watched the colors swirl and coalesce an unshakable fear gripped her. She struggled to make sense of the anomaly as Mowgli took perch on her shoulder, no doubt sensing her fraught nerves. Entering the portal was the least harrowing experience she'd faced since arriving in Wonderland. But this was the first task she'd be forced to undertake alone. Hermione was used to having her friends at her side, it felt strange embarking without them now, venturing somewhere they couldn't follow. Her face creased with distress. Lavender read each line like an open book. "None of that, we already agreed—"

"I didn't get to say goodbye when you were alive," Hermione argued. "If I don't do it now it'll haunt me forever." The blonde set her jaw in frustration but Hermione didn't take offense, knowing Lavender was merely trying to tamp her own rising emotions. "I couldn't have done any of this without you, Lav," she continued earnestly. "Thank you for everything. From taking me under your wing at the Home to guiding me across Wonderland, you've always looked out for me. When my life was flipped upside down you helped me catch the falling pieces and turn them into something new, something that felt like home. You're a light in the darkness. I'm grateful I met you and honored to call you my friend." She wiped her eyes with trembling hands, Lavender's gaze equally faceted, lashes brimming with tears. "I'm furious your life was taken so soon, so violently, and not a day will pass when I don't think about you. You'll live on forever in my heart, and when it's my time to go I hope to end up wherever you are. I love you."

Lavender's expression pinched as she leaned in and embraced Hermione tightly. "I love you, too." She exhaled sharply, keening in pain as Hermione squeezed her in turn.

Hermione reared back, eyes wide with apology. "Shite, sorry!" She glanced at her injury. "Your arm—"

"Wonderland will heal me, just like it did for you."

"But Ariana—"

"Needs time to recover, then she'll start putting Wonderland back together as it should be."

Hermione swallowed nervously. "Merope—"

"Will forget all about her aches and pains the moment she sees the Dollmaker crackling like a campfire." Lavender gripped her shoulder. "We'll be fine. Now go home and—"

"Kill the evil bastard," Hermione stated in sync with her friend. They erupted into laughter, tension uncoiling in her spine as something soft grazed her throat. She peered sideways, meeting Mowgli's keen yellow gaze. "I'm afraid you can't come with me either," she informed him sadly, holding out her palm. He stepped atop, eyes glinting like coins as she brought him before her face. "Thank you for all your help, Mowgli. You saved me more than once. You're the bravest sprite in all of Wonderland." She leaned in, nuzzling his soft fur as he swept her cheek with his tail. "I'll miss you," she murmured, pulling back. "Look after them for me."

He blinked in response and leapt from her grasp, landing atop Lavender's shoulder, both staring at her with doleful expressions. And just like that, the weight of the moment returned with crushing swiftness. Hermione rubbed her aching chest, knowing this was the last time she'd ever look upon them. There was more she wanted to say, words evading her exhausted mind that would certainly occur to her later, plaguing her for the rest of her days. But time was fleeting, as was the portal. So she turned with a deep breath, focusing her attention on the pulsing light as a faint murmur issued forth.

"Sounds like you have someone waiting for you," Lavender said, face illuminated by the swirling glow.

Hermione leaned down until she was level with the opening. "He's been waiting for a while."

"You're worth it."

She heard the humor and conviction in her friend's voice and glanced sideways, making one last vow. "I'll see you again, Lav."

"Every night in your dreams," the blonde winked.

"Don't jump."

They gazed forward, Draco's desperate bid swallowed by the roar of the collapsing tunnel. The light surged and flickered, caught in its final death throes. Hermione gathered her skirts and bent her knees. "At least it can't get any worse," she mused, then sprang headfirst into the raging vortex a heartbeat before it blinked out of existence.

---

Draco leaped, following her over the side of the roof with nary a thought or plan, falling three meters before crashing atop the buttress. Pain alighted through his limbs, blood filling the back of his mouth as his hand shot out, catching her narrow wrist. She dangled from his grasp like a mannequin, heavy and lifeless. He blinked to clear the rain from his eyes, water dripping off the tip of his nose onto his hand, loosening his grip. He grabbed on with his other, nothing to anchor himself to the narrow ledge but his feet, the strain alighting fire through his calves.

She remained limp in his hold, making no attempt to assist or break free, her deadweight igniting sharp pain across his shoulder blades. Even soaking wet she was a slip of a thing, but he lacked the necessary leverage to haul her up without plummeting over the side himself. There were no more ledges to land on, no more second chances or lucky breaks to be had, only hard cement and drowned shrubbery awaiting hard impact.

She began to slip.

He grunted low, stomach muscles pulling tight as he held on with all his might. But strength was no contender for the rain, Mother Nature herself attempting to rip them apart. "Hermione…" he whispered, unable to draw a full breath against the stone. He waited until her barren gaze flickered up to make his final plea. "Wake. Up."

---

Hermione choked on her scream, though she wouldn't have been able to hear it over the deafening roar of the portal. Blue light pulsed on all sides, overloading her senses as she tried to make sense of what was happening. She'd expected to fall down but it felt as though she was being sucked up, flipping and spinning through an endless tunnel. The sensation reminded her of facing backward on a speeding train, unable to anticipate the twists and turns ahead.

A black hole resided at the very end of her path, drawing closer every time her body completed a breathless rotation. The glowing walls vibrated, humming so loudly she glanced over her shoulder to make certain a swarm of bees wasn't at her back. The sound swelled before fragmenting into a windfall of voices, folding in from all directions.

"He programs their minds with triggers."

"—feel like hurting anyone?"

"A fate worse than death—"

"His final command was to kill me."

"—the hell is she wearing?"

"—strongly advise keeping her restrained—"

"The Dollmaker is mine."

"Where are the women?"

"—cunning and determination make her a force to be reckoned—"

"Feels like I was hit by a battering ram—"

"—not interested in their bodies."

"—needs to be confined—"

"Bones will breathe fire."

"—usually takes those memories."

"Where's Bellatrix?"

"Ms. Granger tried to bash in my brains and cut off my head."

The light dimmed, shadows ghosting behind the walls like monstrous creatures as the black abyss yawned ever closer, massive jaws eagerly awaiting her arrival. It was limbo, she was certain of it. She'd waited too long to enter the portal and would be cursed to wander through the darkness for all eternity. Terror gripped her in its throes as one voice rose above the others.

"I was jealous of your friendship."

"Are we enemies?"

"I'm sorry, Hermione. I'm so bloody—"

"—when we first met?"

"I know you're in there."

"—clung to fantasy for so long—"

"A life together requires compromise—"

"—trust you to stay put?"

"I've always been afraid of the words."

"You saved them—"

"—a lot to amend for."

"I'm willing to let you go—"

"You deserve a future, Granger."

"—all or nothing—"

"As long as you're happy, as long as you live."

"—want to know a secret?"

"I love you, Hermione."

"The next time you see me… I'm going to wake you from this nightmare."

Her time was up. The portal spat her into the black expanse before folding in on itself, shriveling into a gleaming speck that fizzled away, leaving her in absolute and total darkness. Her body turned weightless, floating debris in space.

"Hermione…"

Draco shattered the silence with a deafening boom, his words caressing her skin like static.

"Wake. Up."

Gravity returned with a cold wind, wrapping her in its suffocating embrace before ripping her down. She rocketed through space-time, a shrill scream escaping her lips at last.

.

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The invisible hand of fate plunged her into a frigid sea, flailing limbs swallowed by its powerful current. Moonlight shone across the rippling surface, her only way to distinguish up from down. The more she thrashed the faster she sank, lungs starved for oxygen. And then a pale hand broke through the dark, an anchor to cling to.

She kicked with all her might, reaching desperately. The fingers seized her wrist in a bruising vice and hauled her swiftly from the inky depths. She breached the surface with a gasp, gulping air as thunder rolled overhead. She blinked the water from her eyes, making out a blurry face above. She blinked once more and his features solidified, her shock echoed in the growling sky above.

"Draco?" His face was pinched in distress. Her mind reeled, wondering if this was another hallucination, some cruel variation of limbo. It was then she realized she was no longer treading open water but dangling in mid-air, toes curled against the rain. She turned rigid as a post, feeling her palm slip from his grasp. "Draco!" She thrashed wildly, lost to a wave of terror.

He clenched his teeth against the strain, arms fully extended as he clung for dear life. "Stop squirming!"

"What's happening?" She called, barely able to hear him over the rain.

His brows creased as he searched her face. "Hermione?" She gazed at the stone walkway two-stories below, dizzy with adrenaline. "It's going to be okay, just don't look down," he offered by way of assurance, voice too tightly contained to sound genuine.

She swallowed thickly, breathing through her dread. "Sound advice," she murmured, squinting through the storm and attempting to formulate a plan. "You need to roll."

"What?"

"Onto your back. You'll gain leverage by pulling across instead of up."

He shook his head as much as his precarious position would allow. "If I roll I'll drop you."

"You can do it," she urged, holding his gaze as the rain fell. "It's going to be okay."

Thunder growled overhead, vibrating their bones, followed by his hiss of resignation as he rolled onto his side and released her with one hand, gripping the edge of the buttress for leverage and pulling with all his strength. She scrambled for purchase before being hauled across his body like a sack of grain, sagging against him in a sopping heap. She braced her hands to his chest and pushed up, wet hair curtaining their faces as she laughed sharply, the outburst quickly dissolving into hysterical giggles.

He turned to stone beneath her, face twisted in abject shock. "Hermione?"

"It's me," she managed through the laughter, wiping away tears as a sob welled in her throat. He gathered her hair and pushed it back, allowing moonlight to cut across her bloodshot eyes. And then he joined in her chaotic laughter, pulling her flush to his front in a tight embrace. Hermione melted against him, clinging desperately, terrified he'd evaporate beneath her touch. She felt the rapid flutter of his heart, the warm cascade of breath upon her ear, grateful for each detail that gave the fantasy life. Once she was certain he wasn't an elaborate mirage she chanced an upward glance at their surroundings, blinking curiously. "We're on Grimmauld's roof?"

"We are indeed."

She hummed low in her throat before meeting his gaze. "You should really be wearing a safety rope."

He stroked her jaw, grin widening. "I missed you," he muttered, studying her face as though memorizing every detail.

She laughed shortly before peering at the saturated lawn below. "Getting down should be a trick."

"If we take it slow we only stand a 50/50 chance of dying horrifically."

"Better odds than usual," she mused, leaning up and carefully shimmying back. He sat up, watching nervously as she began a methodical backward crawl along the narrow buttress. Once she was clear of his legs he began to follow, acting as her eyes.

"You're nearly there," he offered. She nodded, halting her movements when her toes grazed the brick. She glanced over her shoulder at the wall, the roof exceeding her limited reach. "I'll give you a boost."

She pressed her palms to the brick and carefully rose, Draco unfolding before her, grasping her hips and lifting her up. She grabbed the edge as he fed her over the side, clamoring onto the level surface with a heaving breath. As she collapsed behind the wall her glaringly white gown became ever more apparent beneath the moonlight. She grabbed a handful of gauzy fabric and inspected it with disgust, bearing no memory of the garment but knowing with certainty how it came to be on her person.

Draco jumped, catching the lip of the roof. She scrambled to her knees and grabbed his arm, helping pull him up. He collapsed beside her in a panting heap. "Christ," he muttered, slicking his hair back. "Scaling tall buildings isn't nearly as glamorous as the novels make it seem."

She leaned into the ledge beside him. "Try crawling over Big Ben in heels."

"Pardon?"

"Just reminiscing."

He quirked a pale brow, peering down at her as their shoulders pressed together. "Please hold your sanity together until we make it back inside, Granger, I've had my fill of adventure for one evening."

"I'll do my best. Do you know the safest route back?"

"Not at all." He stood with a groan, offering his hand. "But I know the quickest."

She slid her palm into his. "Even better."

The rain began to ebb as they navigated the narrow ledge. "Stop at the next gargoyle," he instructed. She did as bid, spotting a discarded rope at its clawed feet. Draco leaned down to grab it, gesturing for her to face him. She bit her lip, trying not to wobble as he began tying it around her waist, finally placing her hands on his chest for balance. His skin was warm through the wet fabric, a minor comfort from the cold damp. But her relief was short-lived, attention drawn to the indentations on her wrists.

Draco sensed her distraction, following the direction of her gaze and tensing beneath her touch. "We had to—"

"Restrain me," she finished. "I know."

His eyes snapped up. "You remember?"

"Only snippets." She attempted to pull forth the memory of the glowing tunnel but the more she tried to concentrate the more her nape tingled. She rubbed it absently, abandoning the effort. "Voices… I think."

His fingers fumbled the rope as he attempted to tie a knot at her front. "Did you…" She tilted her head as his words trailed off, shoulders turning stiff. He cleared his throat, carefully focused upon his task. "Did you hear anything I said?"

She didn't prolong his agony by asking for clarification. "Yes." He nodded shortly at her reply, tightening the rope. "It's alright," she offered gently. "You were trying to keep me from jumping."

"I meant every word," he affirmed, meeting her stare.

She smiled, feeling his heart thrum beneath her fingertips. "I know." Rain pittered softly as the clouds broke apart. "I love you, too, Draco. I always will."

A pensive smile curved his lips. "I waited too long."

She shook her head and took his face in her hands. "Actions speak louder. I knew what you felt but chose to hide behind those same three words. Neither of us was willing to compromise. We led each other to this point." She took a steadying breath, words coming easily, speaking them a feat. "I'm your first love and you were mine. Nothing can take away what we shared. But the reality is neither of us are who we were back then. I see the changes in you and am so very proud because they have nothing to do with me. This evolution came from you, Draco. Your conscience, your choices. That's what makes it so incredible. You made yourself into a better man." Her hands lowered to his shoulders, bracing them gently. "You'll always possess a piece of my heart and I'd give it to you again because I know you'll treasure it. Loving you changed me for the better. You saved me from loneliness and despair. We were what each other needed." She blinked quickly, tears refracting the moonlight. "But you don't need me anymore... and the girl you fell in love with is long gone. I need to find out who she's become before I can offer you or anyone else a meaningful connection." She swallowed thickly, the motion sticking in her throat. "Do you understand?"

His eyes glistened through the mist, hands lingering on her waist. "I understand," he replied hoarsely, throat bobbing with the motion. "And when the time comes, I look forward to meeting the new Hermione Granger." She smiled, tears overspilling her eyes as he pulled her into his body and pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was slow and tender, seeking nothing but her presence, her participation. She understood the message conveyed by the simple gesture and responded to his touch with her own painful farewell. They broke apart several moments later, the last of the rain continuing to patter off the stone as their foreheads rested together.

"I'm sorry I dragged you into this mess," she whispered.

His thumb swept beneath her eye, clearing the damp. "You're worth jumping off a roof for."

She laughed softly, fighting back fresh tears. His jaw ticked, the only sign of outward struggle before he tipped his head back to gaze at the cloudy sky. "Of course the rain stops now."

"Us and our spectacular timing."

"Let's get inside," he responded, offering his hand once more. "I have a feeling the storm isn't over."

Her expression sobered, reality settling in with chilling swiftness. "Not even close." Their fingers intertwined as he led the way across the ledge. She noticed his limp and was about to ask what happened when they reached a sloping section of the roof, its wide hole solving the mystery. Water dripped into the darkness, echoing off the marble floor below. She glanced over her shoulder with a raised brow.

"Stick to the beams and you'll be alright," he said.

"What about you?"

"I'll cross afterward, our combined weight may be too much."

Her shoulders drew level, unsettled at the thought of him traversing the hollow surface without a safety fail. She took in their location atop the east side of the property, glancing back with a smirk. "I have a better idea."

He rubbed his brow. "God save us."

A few minutes later Hermione released the vine-ridden lattice, dropping onto the balcony outside the master bedroom. Draco stepped down with far more ease, long limbs affording him greater range. He reached for her waist and began untying the rope as she inspected the broken glass at her feet, blood congealed in a dense pool at the center of the floor. "What happened here?" She asked, paling at the sight of the busted french doors.

"Greyback," he responded with a low growl.

She reeled back, the rope falling away. "What?"

"Everyone survived," he stated calmly. "Everyone we care about anyway. Which is a miracle in itself; the battle was epic, you've never seen anything like it."

Hermione blinked, hearing the phantom explosion of a ship bursting through a Castle wall. "I wouldn't be so certain," she muttered, the memory fading at the edges like a worn photograph. She shook the image free before it slipped away entirely, unwilling to face the prospect of forgetting her harrowing adventure.

Her heart thrummed as she side-stepped debris and entered the bedroom, the hardwood equally littered. She passed the rumpled mattress and shattered mirror, more desperate to see her friends than ever. Draco trailed several paces behind as they followed the murmur of conversation to the other side of the house. She turned the corner and faced a black-lacquer door at the end of the hall, parted halfway. The voices were clear and familiar now, spurring her into motion. The hinges bent silently as she pushed the barrier wide. Her friends clustered around an open window, facing away.

"Anything?" Neville asked, pulling the loose rope inside.

Harry shook his head, leaning forward and calling into the damp night. "Malfoy!" He settled back on his heels with a scowl. "Fucking tosser! I'm going to wring his bloody neck."

"Something's happened," Parvati muttered, stepping away. "I'll check outside." She spun for the door, spotting Hermione and gasping sharply. "Shite!"

The others whirled around, equally shell-shocked. Harry emerged from the press of bodies first. "Hermione? Are you alright?" Her eyes welled at his approach, feet carrying her forward on instinct. She flung her arms around his neck and buried her face against his chest, feeling his muscles tense. "Mione?" He hedged carefully. She sniffled loudly, burrowing into his collarbone. But he interpreted her non-verbal response just fine, embracing her at last, voice thick with emotion. "You're back." He smoothed a hand over her hair as Draco reached the doorway, joining their silent audience. "How—"

"Later," she bid, untangling their arms and stepping back. "I need to do something." She glanced around his shoulder and met Parvati's astonished gaze. "Where's Padma?"

. . .

She charged into the bedroom, trailed by water droplets and dumbfounded faces as she kneeled beside the mattress and grasped Padma's limp hand, her skin pale and cool to the touch. Her friends hovered at the threshold as she closed her eyes and ransacked the tattered chaos of her mind for the one memory she needed, grateful to find it unblemished in the wake of her dwindling recollection.

"The cure is simple, so plain it's sublime; say the magic word, repeated three times."

She wet her lips, leaning forward as Parvati drew close, the others lingering behind, exchanging looks of bewilderment. "Abracadabra, abracadabra, abracadabra," she whispered lowly, opening her eyes to find Padma's condition unchanged. She straightened, gripping the lifeless hand tighter and repeating the mantra with volume and force. "Abracadabra. Abracadabra. Abracadabra."

Nothing.

There was a faint shuffling from the hall. Neville cleared his throat awkwardly. "Er… Mione…?"

Parvati sank to the floor beside her. "Hermione, what are you doing?"

"Why isn't it working?" She muttered, releasing the young woman's hand to card fingers through her hair in frustration. "Where's Dawn?" Silence permeated the room, causing her chest to tighten with dread. "Where is she?" She repeated, rising swiftly.

"At St. Mungo's," Draco replied, triggering Hermione's memory of the girl seizing before the dollhouse, the concern etching Dumbeldore's face as he loaded her into the carriage.

She sighed heavily, closing her eyes and rubbing her temples. "The cure is simple… so plain it's sublime…" her lids peeled open, everyone staring at her like she'd sprouted a second head. "Say the magic word, repeated three times." Her brow creased, undeterred by their reaction. "What's the magic word?"

Sirius scratched the back of his neck, electing to speak for the group. "Listen, kitten—"

"I'm not crazy," she hissed.

"I value the arrangement of my face far too much to make such a claim. But the fact of the matter is you've been through a very harrowing two days—"

"And up until fifteen minutes ago you were still batshite crazy."

"Harry, stop trying to help," his godfather admonished, turning his attention back on Hermione. "The Dollmaker did a number on your mind, luv. There's no telling what ideas he's planted, you need time to recover—"

"His name is Gellert Grindelwald and he's a man, not a wizard. I just need time to think." She gripped either side of her head and rotated slowly. "Bernard never said it… so I must already know it."

Parvati stood. "Know what?"

"Who the hell is Bernard?" Draco asked with narrowed eyes.

Theo gazed at him like he was an idiot. "The spotted monkey on her shoulder. Why are we entertaining her ramblings? She needs rest—"

"The monkey was Mowgli," Hermione stated firmly. "And he was green, not spotted."

"Ah, I see. Well, thank you for proving your tight-laced sanity, Granger." He glanced at Harry. "Put the restraints back on."

"Magic word?" Parvati repeated. "Like a trigger?"

Hermione faced her. "Exactly like a trigger."

Her friend nodded, glancing at Draco. "What did you say to release her?"

"Nothing. She released herself."

"But she was still programmed," Harry added.

Hermione glared. "She's standing right here."

"We never knew your triggers," Harry said without chagrin. "You were unconscious when Riddle brought you in and he never said anything." Hermione had already noted Tom's absence but felt her spine tighten at his mention.

"Actually," Sirius drawled, earning everyone's undivided focus. "He said one thing…" He met her hopeful stare. "Your triggers were in Gaelic."

The fine hairs along her arms stood on end. "Gaelic," she muttered, blinking slowly as her mind yawned with memory. And then Dumbledore's deep brogue filled her head unbidden. "She believed in magic. In a world outside of our own where fantasy bled into reality." The wallpaper melted before her eyes, revealing the padded walls of a cell. She was lying on her cot, arms bound by a straitjacket as she traced patterns in the rigid fabric with her eyes. "White rabbit." She blinked again, the asylum walls blackened by a powerful blaze, fire rushing past the window as the Infernal Train tore across the forest floor. "Looks like our room," Lavender muttered, eyeing the stuffed animal on the utilitarian bed. "The furniture anyway."

Her fingers twitched, recalling the weight of the file, the crinkle of pages as she read the hand-written reports from the shadows of the attic. Ariana brought her toy rabbit to our session today. She let me hold it. Trust is building… She stood in a dark room, hundred of glass eyes focused upon her. The dolls held their collective breath in silence, porcelain faces warmed by lantern glow. "She treasured every one of them. But she treasured Dree above all else. When I inspected her room at the home and saw him on the floor beneath the bed, I knew." She picked up the velveteen rabbit and traced its ears with a fingertip, meeting her upside-down reflection in the fathomless black gaze. "Draíocht, she called him." Her lungs deflated. "Gaelic for magic."

Hermione pressed a hand to her chest and rushed to Padma's bedside, dropping to her knees once more. Theo sighed from the hall. "This is getting ridiculous, she needs a hospital—"

"Shut up, Nott," Parvati snapped, watching her closely.

"She's been through a fucking trauma and should be with the others—"

"Shut up, Nott," Harry echoed. Theo sighed dramatically but offered no further objection, the room falling perfectly silent as Hermione took Padma's hand and interlaced their fingers. Parvati hovered at her side, hope and desperation radiating off her in waves.

Hermione swallowed tightly, pulse quickening. "Draíocht…" she whispered, staring at Padma's downturned lashes, "draíocht…" a lump formed in her throat, "draíocht." She braced for something cataclysmic, for lightning to strike the roof as Padma sprang off the bed like an acrobat.

Alas, nothing happened.

Hermione slumped into the mattress, tears filling her eyes as hopelessness tore through her chest, stealing her breath. Parvati deflated at her side, boneless in her despair. Hermione gazed up, sharing in her misery. "Parvati, I'm so sorr—"

Padma awoke with a sharp gasp, surging upright as though breaching the surface of a frozen lake. The others turned rigid with shock as Hermione steadied her with trembling hands. "Padma! It's okay, you're safe!"

The young woman blinked rapidly. "H-Hermione?" She mumbled, voice rusty from disuse.

Hermione smiled widely, tears overspilling her eyes. "Welcome home."

Padma opened and closed her mouth. "Home?" she repeated slowly, as though trying to recall the meaning of the word. And then a soft whimper drew her gaze higher and her breath escaped in a rush. "Parvati?"

Her twin sobbed, reaching out is desperation. Hermione rose from the bed as they embraced atop the rumbled blankets. "I'm here," Parvati cried into her sister's hair. "I'm so sorry I left."

Padma swallowed heavily. "But you were with me the whole time."

Hermione wiped the tears from her cheeks and turned for the doorway to afford them privacy. The hallway's occupants stared at her in various states of disbelief, Theo breaking the silence first. "My apologies, Granger."

She entered the corridor, softly closing the door at her back. "Apology accepted." Her eyes flitted to Harry. "What did I miss?"

"I assume you want the abridged version?"

"Headliners, preferably."

He tipped his head, listing them on his fingers. "Greyback attacked the house so Sirius blew it up, Bellatrix threw a pervert party and we gate-crashed in fabulous outfits, Bones arrested half the groveling Peerage while we rescued the brainwashed girls, Riddle found the Dollmaker's top-secret hideout where you tried cutting off his head, I wandered the city looking for drug smugglers while Draco untied you like an idiot and you climbed onto the roof." He blinked. "Wow, didn't think I'd fit it all onto one hand."

"Impressive," Neville commended.

Draco scowled. "For the last goddamn time, I put her binds back on—"

"Drug smugglers?" Hermione interrupted. "I need the abridged version for that one."

Harry reached into his vest. "Riddle brought this with him." He extracted a vial, holding it before the gaslight. Hermione staggered, colliding with Hannah.

"Mione?" The young woman asked with concern. Hermione quickly recovered, taking the bottle from his hand and studying it through a narrow gaze. Harry didn't miss the disgust curling her lip.

"You remember being drugged," he surmised darkly.

She tipped the vial, watching the blue liquid slosh behind the glass. "I took it willingly, but yes." Harry blinked, confusion muddling his features as she handed the bottle back. "Did you find the source?" She asked.

He pocketed the item with care. "I was on my way there when you took up stargazing."

"Correction: you and Malfoy were engaged in a moronic row when she took up stargazing," Theo clipped.

"And we settled the matter," Draco said. "Potter's going to wander the docks like a useless fool while I drag Bellatrix to Scotland Yard."

"She got away?" Hermione inquired sharply.

Draco held her gaze intently. "She left the auction with Riddle."

She struggled to contain her reaction, fire burning an agonizing path from her throat to her stomach. She knew there must have been a reason, Tom never did anything without forward purpose, but the thought of them absconding together overrode her greater sense. "Both are worthy causes," she stated at length, eager to change the subject. "I understand your dilemma. Luckily, there's enough of us to execute both tasks at once."

"There are enough detectives as well," Sirius added. "We've played our parts in this mess, the rest is up to Bones."

Draco shook his head. "Bones isn't leaving the station before sunrise. He's up to his elbows in arrests, the lawyers will make ten times the paperwork for him."

"Then our Navy will step in. Sailors are dispersing throughout the city as we speak."

The others appeared confused but Hermione connected the dots immediately. "Tom went to the Admiral," she muttered, thoughts racing with the revelation. Tom would only enlist his former benefactor's aid as a last resort. Something had made him desperate, a chilling prospect indeed.

Harry stiffened. "The Admir— you mean Dumbeldore?" He rounded on his godfather. "How the hell—"

"They're closely acquainted," Hermione disclosed vaguely, urgency propelling her forward. "Sirius, can you check in with him? See where he's stationed men and if there's been any headway?" She took his heavy sigh as acquiescence and turned to Draco. "Find Bellatrix. Nott, go with him."

Theo smirked, gaslight illuminating his handsome features and making it clear how he came to possess her best friend's heart. "I was planning on it, luv, but I'm thoroughly enjoying this side of you."

"She's always like this," a voice spoke from behind the door. They moved aside as it parted softly, both women appearing at the threshold. "Good to have you back, Mione," Pavarti said, cheeks flushed from crying. She glanced to her sister. "It's good to have both of you back."

"How are you feeling, Padma?" Hermione asked.

The young woman smiled weakly, listing heavily against her sister's side. "A little out of sorts."

"She's dehydrated," Parvati stated, holding her twin aloft. "I'm taking her to St. Mungo's." She met Hermione's gaze. "You should come with us, have a doctor take a look at you, then try to wake the other girls."

"I'm needed elsewhere, but anyone can say the trigger words."

"I'll go," Neville volunteered, stepping in to help support Padma's weight.

Hannah shifted forward. "Me, too."

Parvati nodded her thanks while Hermione glanced at Harry. "I'm coming with you to the docks."

He raised a dark brow, amusement sparkling in his emerald stare. "I know better than to argue."

"Thank goodness for that." She gathered her sopping skirt. "Should give me enough time to burn this horrid dress."

Sirius scrubbed a hand over his face, voice weary. "Not to sound like the old man I've so obviously become, but what happens if one of you kids actually finds the Dollmaker?"

The corridor fell silent, all eyes on Hermione. She tilted her head, answering simply. "We kill the evil bastard."