The plan unfolds, unexpected events and a trip into the past points to the future
62. The Very Witching Hour
'Bollocks,' Harry said, summing up how everyone – already tired and battle-worn – was feeling.
'We need to take our chance while we have it,' Niko said, his button-blue eyes blazing with fierce determination. 'This wizard has sown the seeds of chaos for too long… it's time we ended him!'
Draco suppressed a sigh but Hermione still heard it. 'We need Gunter.' He looked to Thelonious. 'Contact him on the corundum. Tell him to get ready.'
Thelonious got going with that and Bill joined him.
'Are you okay with this?' Draco asked Hermione. She could feel his whiteness thrumming anxiously.
'I'm not physically hurt... just a bit knackered.' And sad... She couldn't stop thinking about Gwen's tear-stained face. 'We can do this, Draco. You better tell that Muggle lady in Spain, Alenka Horvat, to get her strike force teed up for action at El Sol y Ter.'
Draco moved off to the kitchen to make his call.
'Wish I could help,' Henrik said, looking genuinely downcast.
'Well I'm bloody glad you can't, actually,' Parvati said primly. 'We've a houseful of children to worry about!' She reached out and squeezed his arm affectionately and Henrik flushed crimson.
Hermione had to look away to smile and caught Harry's eye. He was smiling, too.
'Right,' Bill said in authoritative tones, 'Gunter's on his way! Fleur's just popped to The Burrow to draft in Molly to take her place nursing poor Elizaveta… I'm going to be needing Fleur with me and Kai at the old tin mine.'
'What's happened to Elizaveta?' Niko cried, alarmed.
'She was injured at the Windmill I'm afraid,' Hermione replied.
Draco was back. 'Alenka can move special forces into the vicinity of El Sol y Ter within the hour.'
'The hour?' Niko shrieked, quivering with impatience. 'But that's too long!' He brushed his hand through his singed hair and a pungent smoky smell filled the room. 'We must strike while the iron's hot!'
'I wonder if Sylvestra will try to get to El Sol y Ter?' Harry mused. 'It's herhouse, isn't it? And she was in pretty bad shape.'
'All thanks to you,' Draco said to Hermione. 'Considering you couldn't use magic directly against her, you totally smashed it!'
But Hermione didn't feel celebratory. She felt apprehensive. Sylvestra was no NORMAL witch...
'Niko… where was Josep when you last saw him?' she asked, voicing her foremost concern. He scared her more than anyone...
'Some beach painting, dull, featureless thing… no idea where. But I had him pinned back!' Niko replied, excitedly, 'and then I ran... went to find you guys.'
'Which means hemight retreat to El Sol y Ter, too,' Hermione muttered. 'We might find there's quite the welcome party!' she added in sardonic tones.
'All the more reason for us to get there first!' Niko declared. 'Which we can't fucking do if the Muggles are dragging their heels!' He stared at Draco, eyes bulging in frustration.
Draco pulled his phone from his pocket. 'I'll see what I can do…'
Harry fumbled with a knapsack and produced a faintly shimmering piece of cloth that vanished most of his body when he unfurled it. 'Looks like I'll be needing this…'
XXX
Padma was waiting for them at the foot of the hill leading to the painted castle which acted as a portal to El Sol y Ter.
There was an all-too brief embrace and warm greetings before everyone focused on the next step.
Harry was going to venture in first – shielded by his invisibility cloak. Once he'd determined that Salvedra was alone – or at least unaccompanied by anyone worryingly powerful – he would find a way to venture outside (Draco had drawn a map of the house from memory and recalled a terrace) and fire off a rocket to trigger the Muggle attack. Harry would have three minutes max to get back to the room with the picture of the castle and summon Niko and Gunter.
Gunter would quickly make himself known to Salvedra while Niko and Harry attacked him with a combination of bedazzling hexes and mind-bending colour-magic. It was hoped that this would screw with Salvedra's mind to the point where he failed to notice when Gunter was replaced by Niko... Niko would project an illusion of himself (as Gunter) through the painting, hopefully leading Salvedra - in hot pursuit - into the black box conjured by Draco and Hermione.
The moment Salvedra was in that box, Draco would think hard about Bill, Fleur and Kai waiting outside the old tin mine - thereby 'driving' themselves and the black box to the threshold of Gabby's black rose painting. Everyone would focus on folding that box into the painting - trapping Salvedra – while Harry sent a Patronus to Bill warning him to drop the mine's security barrier and cast a Fiendfyre to consume the painting and its ghastly contents for good. Fleur and Kai were there to add firepower, if necessary.
'I'm terrified,' Hermione said in low, breathless tones as Harry donned his invisibility cloak and snuck through the portal into the shadowy room with the long dining table at El Sol y Ter.
They could see Salvedra… he had his back to them and appeared to be bent over a large book at the dining table. Crucially, he was alone… but Hermione dreaded him noticing Harry. What if he could see through invisibility cloaks?
'It'll be fine,' Draco assured her, although he was chewing his lip nervously.
They waited for what felt like an age for Harry to return. The narrow, dark tunnel seemed to throb with an anxious heartbeat - the sound of their laboured breathing.
Salvedra slowly turned the pages of his book; contained, seemingly absorbed. Eerily quiet…
What had she expected? Hermione thought. A bloodthirsty warrior? An insane, ranting madman? The truth, of course, was no less dangerous and rather more insidious. Salvedra was primarily a scholar – the brains behind the operations, the inspiration. He devised the insane, supremacist theories that justified atrocities and recruited psychopaths to his ugly cause…
'Too long; He's taking too long,' Niko said between gritted teeth, jerking her back to their reality.
But no sooner had he said that then Salvedra's tall, dark-clad, spidery figure jumped up from his chair and he sped rapidly out of the room.
Something… hopefully the Muggles attacking, had alerted him.
Moments later and Harry was waving frantically, having crept back to the picture and briefly peeled back his cloak.
'We're up,' Gunter said gruffly, vaulting through the painting with Niko.
They immediately assumed their crow-forms and followed the brightly-coloured fwoofer feathers adorning Harry's wand that momentarily poked out from under his invisibility cloak to guide them.
'That's our cue, beautiful,' Draco murmured. He quickly clapped his arm around her shoulders and kissed her. She fell against him and basked for a brief moment in the tender warmth of his lips against his – and then registered the gasp of surprise behind them.
'Oh!' Padma cried. 'I knew you were good friends, but…'
Hermione blushed heatedly. 'We're… we're much more than that, Padma… We're having a baby.' She gave Padma a nervous, disjointed smile, uncomfortably aware of Padma's fixed, pained grin…
'Guess I've a lot to catch up on,' and Padma's rictus grin melted into something much more genuine.
'But not now,' Draco warned. 'Hermione… we need to make the box.'
This meant combining their magic. Was it something they could do at will? They focused hard and she allowed him to enter her mind… she could feel his whiteness oozing through her.
It was so familiar, so comforting – in spite of the wave of exhaustion rolling through their connection – and for a moment she almost forgot the tremendous peril of their situation.
But then she remembered… and a cold chill cascaded through her. She could sense Draco meshing their magic together with cool-headed efficiency and recalled how this task had fallen to her in Egypt at another point of crisis. She clung to him in her mind, craving his protection … Even though her eyes were closed she could sense they were shimmering, swiftly followed by an image of blackness filling her mind – the box…
What do we do now?
We wait…he replied.
'Now!' Padma cried… She was the lookout… They held hard, striving to keep the box in place…
Strain, terrible strain. Black, Black, the blackest black – not a chink of light, nothing but a forlorn blank of despair...
And DEADNESS….
But then there was a sense of motion, of spiraling violence…raging, screaming…
Hold on, Draco said in commanding tones, his voice resounding inside of her.
She was tired, bone-tired… her back, neck, now her head – aching.
A squirming wild sensation alighted in her mind… the box was dark and seething. More active, more intrusive than she'd hoped.
'Patronus!' Padma shrieked… 'Hermione! Send a Patronus!'
But how could she? If she let go, the box would collapse… Why couldn't Harry do it?
'I can hold it, let go,' Draco urged… So she did… struggling to feel anything but dank and gloomy, threatened by an evil that was desperate to surge out of the blackness to smother any light of life within her.
But she had memories, glorious memories… and a flash of joy burst through her… a streak of silvery light…
Except - there was a fillip of panic coursing through her connection with Draco.
'No-one there!' he yelled. 'There's no-one fucking there!'
'Where?'
'Shell Cottage!'
SHIT. WHY?
Hermione tried, too. Bill… Fleur… Kai…
Nothing.
Jesus fuck. Draco's voice said in her head… We're screwed.
A searing pain shot through her… the box suddenly evaporated and Draco grasped her arm and she was whirling in a frenzied blur of light and colour, horribly aware that a dark, twisting tornado was hot on their heels…
'Where are we going?' she screeched.
'I don't know…' he cried, as they ran and ran before grinding to an abrupt halt.
Draco bent over to catch his breath and then eased himself upright, face screwed-up in pain. His shirt was ripped open and a bloodied gash streaked across his chest.
'A mere scratch,' he said in droll tones, his mouth clasped in a tight grimace.
'We failed. He got out…' Hermione said, tears flowing in frustration as she brushed her hand across Draco's chest and tried to focus hard on healing him... He winced but sighed in relief as his wound gradually closed over – before grabbing her hand - and they were flying again through painting after painting, a whorl of colours and shapes slipping past – faster, faster… Hermione could barely contain the urge to vomit that swiftly rose up inside of her.
'Who did you think of?' she yelped.
'No one…'
'But we need SOMEONE!'
ANYONE, even, Hermione thought. BILL! Where the bloody hell are you? Fleur?
'Damn. He's sticking with us,' Draco said desperately, furtively glancing at the black cloud ballooning behind them, ever closer…
They needed respite to gather their thoughts, to craft a plan, an escape.
Hermione racked her brain – NARCISSA! And a wall of white, a glistening cocoon sprung up before them.
'In here!' Hermione hissed, shielding her eyes as she forced a door open.
Sparkling, pristine… whiter than Hermione could have ever envisaged.
Purity of place and moment… a void of its own. Not the black that she'd conjured with Draco, but similarly opaque she felt. Yes... a refuge of sorts.
'Where are we?' Draco asked.
'I thought about your mother…we're in the in-betweenplace.'
Draco quickly scanned their surroundings, eyes slitted against the fierce white glow that had enveloped them. 'But there's nothing here.' He gave her an agonised look. 'It's just…light, Hermione... Salvedra could do anythinghere.'
But she didn't feel he was right. 'I don't think it's the kind of light which makes colour-magic work… it's sort of… absent. Every colour and yet no colour… it reflects everything back...'
She struggled to put her thoughts into words, but it felt like another magic had made this space. Not Salvedra… His magic had a dark, seething taint – a corruption... No. This was raw colour-magic. The primordial stew of light, of colour. Rendered by something, someone whose natural habitat was not of their world, whose power was drawn from within this space…
Hermione hadn't noticed that Draco had stepped away… He looked back at her, a distraught look on his face. His eyes were luminous, glowing…
'Mother…'
He stood aside and Narcissa was lying on her back, arms crossed over her chest, eyes closed, face peaceful.
He knelt down and gently stroked her cheek.
'Is she-?' Hermione didn't dare finish the sentence out loud.
Draco blinked rapidly. 'Can't tell. She's not cold. More…neutral.'
Hermione reached out and touched Narcissa's hand. it was cool alabaster-white. But soft. 'It's like she's in-between, too. Neither one or the other.'
She slipped her arm around Draco's waist and drew him close.
He rested his head against hers. 'I don't suppose we can take her with us.'
'No. This place is controlled by Dolores.'
The moment she said this, a tugging motion jerked them both backwards and the whiteness fell away… a panoply of images and colours swept past them and they fell into a cloying, sticky brown – a wash of sepia. A tall shadow loomed over them… a shiny, green pillar rearing upwards. Hermione's eyes were drawn by a lush, velvety profusion of glossy blackness … crumpled damask layers, silky petals…
Draco sprang up and raced towards a gossamer grey veil… scant light seeping through from the world beyond. Dark walls framed a moonlit sky.
Hermione joined him, squinting across a vast dark expanse… a small, grey figure was standing in the distance, a stark silhouette against the pale moonbeams bathing a field of grass.
'But that isn't Dolores,' she said in a low, tense voice, clutching Draco's arm tightly. 'Doesn't make sense.'
As she spoke, the pale grey figure moved away.
Hermione looked behind them… the heavy-headed black rose bobbed and swayed in an unseen breeze. 'Oh my god… We're at Shell Cottage.'
Draco shook his head in dismay, everything falling into place. 'So where's Bill?'
They gazed disconsolately at the empty lawn that stretched along the cliff-top.
'Fuck! Is that smoke?' Draco's voice shook… A weaving, powder-grey skein wafted across the mouth of the mine before being swallowed into black.
Hermione's heart accelerated and a sense of deep unease churned through her.
The smoke maybe explained why they hadn't seen Bill… or Fleur and Kai. They needed to get out NOW... find out what had gone wrong... But they were stuck in a painting, trapped inside a mine...
A harsh, gravelly wheeze... Someone approaching at speed. Someone panicking. HARRY… frantically searching for something or somebody, before disappearing from view.
'He needs to know we're here!' Hermione unleashed her Patronus, brimming with relief that the charm still worked in picture-world. A sleek, silvery tiger erupted through Bill's wards, chasing Harry down.
Harry quickly returned and turned a Lumos in their direction as he peered at the painting.
'Hold on!' he bellowed. 'There's a bit of a crisis going on here. I've been looking for you everywhere... Look, I'm gonna try and bulldoze Bill's protective charms … It's a sort of circuit breakerspell so you might get rattled around a bit.'
Harry closed his eyes tightly and mumbled a long incantation in a strange, guttural language that Hermione had never heard before. A neat Auror trick she fancied… It felt a bit like Dark Magic... But the next moment she'd been upended and was slammed flat against Draco as the picture shook – then stilled.
'Right, let's get out of here,' Draco grunted, hoisting her through the painting.
She shivered, unexpectedly cold – a contrast to the bland tepidity of picture-world.
'What the fuck's happened?' Draco demanded.
'A fire broke out upstairs where the kids are sleeping!' Harry explained. 'Absolute fucking mayhem!'
Hermione looked at Shell Cottage in horror. It was cloaked in a pall of thick, black smoke - but a candle was alight in an upstairs window looking out onto the garden and bit by bit she could see that the structure itself was undamaged, that whatever had happened had been brought under control.
'Is everyone okay?' she asked Harry.
'Just about.'
'So that's why no one was here!' Draco exclaimed. 'They were distracted by the fire.'
'It almost got out of control! Lucky Niko and Gunter got back when they did! I'd got stuck in El Sol y Ter - ran into bloody Asusto! Bit of a nasty surprise.' Harry was busy sealing the entrance to the mine as he spoke. 'Won't lie – if it hadn't been for a fully-armoured commando unit storming into the building at that particular moment I wouldn't have made it out alive!'
'Why weren't you wearing your invisibility cloak?' Hermione shrilled.
'The hood fell back and Asusto spotted me. I slammed him with an Expulso but couldn't hang around to see if I'd taken him out or not because the Muggles kept chucking bloody grenades!'
'So how did you escape?' Draco asked.
'Used another picture - but I walked straight into a fucking VOLCANO!' Hermione's eyes dropped to Harry's boots. The leather was curdled, melted-looking. 'I then headed for Padma's painting; she retreated the moment that cunt broke loose from the box,' Harry continued, his fwoofer wand fizzing furiously. A blue glow soon encircled the mine's open doorway. 'Got myself into Folkvangr from there, then Apparated straight out…'
'How the hell did you guys end up stuck in the mine?' Harry eventually asked as they walked along the clifftop towards Shell Cottage.
'I thought about Dolores…and for some reason we ended up HERE!' Hermione said in a low whisper.
Harry stopped and spun around. His glasses were dazzling in the bright moonlight and the white tips of the waves crashing below swooped and sparkled behind him.
'We saw someone in the distance… but it didn't looklike her, did it?' Hermione said to Draco, who vehemently shook his head.
'We have to find her,' Harry said, urgently.
'Except there's no way she could have got in here, Harry,' Hermione said emphatically, still keeping her voice at a low pitch as though fearing the shadows might overhear her… 'It's not physically possible.'
'It would mean something had happened to Bill,' Draco agreed, 'to breach the Fidelius Charm.'
'Well. Bill's just fine,' Harry said irritably. 'Pissed-off - but fine…' He blew out his cheeks in exasperation. 'What a monumental cock-up. We can't ever try that trick on Salvedra again, you realise that, don't you? And now he'll be on full fucking alert and out for revenge.'
'El Sol y Ter will be messed-up, though,' Draco said, straining for optimism.
Hermione felt a squibble of nausea… sickness blended with fear. She desperately wanted to get back to Folkvangr. To be close to her children. But there was no chance of that. Not yet.
'Let's see what's happened with this fire,' Draco suggested as they approached the kitchen door, 'but don't mention Dolores!'
Harry narrowed his eyes. 'But like you said - she can't actually be here - because of the Fidelius Charm.'
'Except logic dictates that she IS... or at least has been,' Draco said peevishly. 'But not as HER. As somebody or something else… We need to look like we don't know that.'
Hermione groaned. He was right... Dolores had somehow breached the perimeter of Shell Cottage and started a fire to scupper their plan to catch Salvedra. This could only mean she was impersonating someone already here – or had been invited in by someone they trusted and then assumed a different form... the small, grey figure they'd spied from the tin mine…
A few lights glowed from the cottage's windows. The whiffs of smoke that had wreathed the rooftop just a few minutes earlier had already dissipated. It was oddly silent – beyond the whoosh and roar of the waves below and a stray seagull's squawk in the distance.
Hermione shuddered and hugged her arms close around her, fighting, yet again, a desire to be sick.
'Hermione,' Draco said tenderly, 'I know you don't want me to fuss, but you've had one helluva night. You need to rest. Why don't you head home? Harry and I can deal with this.'
'I will. Soon… Let's – let's just see what's happening here first.'
Draco held her gaze – sorrowful, frustrated – but he wasn't going to fight her on this. He knew better than that.
XXX
'I'm so, so sorry for screwing up! We had a fire,' Bill cried, ushering them through the backdoor into the kitchen. He reeked of smoke and his face glistened with perspiration. 'Vithu – bless him – he noticed the smoke first and alerted everybody… He must have an incredible sense of smell because he was downstairs and the fire started in the attic.'
Vithu was sat at the kitchen table with a blanket wrapped around him. He turned large, dark eyes towards Hermione and she remembered her desperation to release him from captivity… But Fleur drew his attention with a plate of biscuits.
'How are the other children?' Hermione asked.
'Mostly back in bed.' A plaintive wail drifted down the stairs and Bill rolled his eyes. 'Tien…'
They moved into the sitting-room where Molly was spoon-feeding Elizaveta a potion on the couch, Gunter dancing attendance. Bill beckoned them through to the living-room across the hall.
There were three makeshift beds on the floor and a scrunched-up blanket on the sofa.
'We can talk in here,' Bill sighed. 'Alfred and Louis are upstairs helping out… and you've just seen Vithu.' He sat on the sofa looking pale and exhausted and unthinkingly hugged the blanket against his chest. It occurred to Hermione that this was where Bill was sleeping, too.
'I've no idea how long the attic was burning - I'll check it out tomorrow – but once it had scorched through the ceiling in the twin bedroom the curtains quickly caught alight… it - it got a bit manic in there. Tuyen's coping with four kids and it's not the biggest space…' Bill informed them. 'The truth is, one minute more and the entire room would have been engulfed… We'd have lost them all.' He looked sad and wretched as he spoke, as though he'd failed them.
'We'll have Hakim and Farida at Folkvangr,' Draco said to Hermione's surprise. It seemed a strange thing to suddenly announce.
'We will?' she spluttered.
'You've too many…' Draco said to Bill.
'Farida's very fond of Thelonious,' Fleur stated, entering the room with Vithu.
'And I made a promise to Hakim's father,' Draco added. Hugo was fond of Hakim, Hermione thought. They could definitely squeeze him in…
'ME!' Vithu declared. He pointed to his chest and then at Draco and Hermione.
Hermione was stumped. 'Yes. You, too.' Vithu kept staring at her… she could sense he wanted to say something else but didn't know how or didn't feel safe doing so.
She looked at Fleur and Bill, wondering… but she could sense Bill's burgundy colour… And presumably they were both at the mine when the fire broke out - so they couldn't have ignited it, unless it had been quietly smouldering for some time. But it sounded like the inferno had been rapid, dramatic.
Vithu slumped onto the cushions on the floor and gazed up at them, wide-eyed, wakeful.
'Who alerted youto the fire?' Harry asked Bill.
'Mum. Vithu ran to her and pointed upstairs. And then there was screaming.'
'And Kai thought she saw someone on the roof! But I think her nerves got the better of her,' Fleur said, shaking her head in disbelief.
'Have you been onto the roof to check?' Harry asked hastily.
'There's no way someone got in here, Harry! It's impossible,' Bill scoffed, seeing where Harry's line of enquiry was headed.
Harry gave Bill a hard look. 'You're forgetting we had Alaydaa pitched up at the gates not so long ago!'
'And they couldn't cross the perimeter!' Bill replied, raising his voice. 'Admittedly, though, this fire was bloody terrible timing... we had no choice but to quit the mine and pitch in to help!'
'Where's Kai now?' Hermione asked.
'In the study with Tansy… I'll get her if you want,' Fleur said, heading out.
Hermione felt a peculiar prickling at the back of her neck. She turned around but the curtains were drawn, shutting out the garden. Even so… Vithu looked beyond her towards the garden too, and then redirected his gaze back to her face. Yes… he definitely had a suspicion, but maybe he didn't know how to say it in English?
'Is anyone outside?' she asked abruptly.
'Niko's checking the perimeter,' Bill said.
Harry and Draco exchanged looks. 'We'll give him a hand,' Draco said, and they left. Hermione instantly missed them and wished that Vithu would stop staring; she could feel his dark eyes boring into her.
'You wanted to see me?' Kai said, hastening into the room, followed by Tansy.
Kai was pale-faced and frightened, almost bowing to Hermione.
'You thought there was someone on the roof. Can you describe what you saw?'
Kai eased herself into an armchair and clasped her small, bony hands together until her knuckles turned white. Tansy stood behind the armchair, arms tightly folded.
'It was only a glimpse,' Kai said haltingly. 'I – I probably imagined it.'
'Possibly,' Hermione said in cool tones, 'but not necessarily.'
'It was a small, grey thing… nothing more,' Kai chirruped. 'I wondered if it was an animal, actually.'
'And you only saw this thingonce you were at the mine?' Hermione asked in kindly tones.
Kai nodded. 'Everything sorta happened super-fast… we were waiting to hear from you guys and I was a wee bit churned-up I guess, an' I thought of making a run for the dunny… and in that moment I just… looked up.'
'And this figure or creature… might it have been a bird?'
'You said it was a person,' Tansy prompted Kai in firm tones.
'Yeah… It was - human-shaped.' Kai didn't like saying this out loud. The consequences were too frightening.
'A woman?' Hermione asked, thinking of the small, grey figure she'd seen on the clifftop... The figure she now assumed was Dolores- in some sort of disguise or wearing somebody else's body.
'Probably... could have been a kid, I s'pose... It was dark and then the smoke came.'
But the children had been in bed, supervised. Except Vithu - who'd gone straight to Molly, the closest responsible adult, as soon as he worked out something was wrong.
Molly herself was now standing at the door, curious at the raised voices.
Hermione momentarily closed her eyes, digesting all she'd heard.
'I'm just trying to get my head around the geography of the situation... where everyone was when the fire started,' she said, trying to sound calm and measured.
'Well, there was three of us at the mine,' Fleur said, gesturing to herself, Bill and Kai, 'the boys were asleep in here and Tuyen was upstairs. Arlene was with the little ones and already in bed long before we headed out… She was completely out of the loop-'
'Actually,' Hermione said cutting in here - this was potentially critical - 'Besides you, Bill and Kai, did anyone else know what we planned to do to Salvedra tonight? It was a very last-minute call.'
Fleur pondered this. 'Tuyen was already in bed as well, thinking about it... And Gabrielle was a bit upset tonight. Kept herself to herself…' Her voice trailed off.
Hermione looked directly at Molly. 'And youwere with Elizaveta.'
Molly nodded. 'Poor lass... I've patched up her injuries as best I can and she shouldn't lose her arm, thank Merlin… but we were in the sitting-room. The moment I knew there was a fire I used a Sonorous to warn Bill.'
'So, I'm guessing you knew exactly WHY Bill, Fleur and Kai were at the mine?'
'Of course!' Molly bristled. 'To catch this Salvedra creep! ... Shame it got ruined.'
Hermione vaguely discerned the shape of something dim, shadowy at the back of her mind. 'Who else knew?' she demanded.
'Hermione? What are you thinking?' Fleur asked, looking perplexed and a little scared.
'Well, it's obvious the fire was a deliberate distraction to stop us from moving Salvedra into Gabby's painting,' Hermione breathed.
She sensed Bill's colour exploding beside her... 'Are you seriously suggesting one of ussnuck up to the attic and started a fire that could have killed us all? Because it sounds like you are!'
'Why would anyone DO that?' Molly remonstrated looking from person to person with unalloyed desperation. 'We all want this Salvedra finished off. Nasty, wicked piece of work! None of us would deliberately sabotage that, Hermione - and like you said, it was a last-minute decision! It's why Fleur had to rush to The Burrow to get me!'
'Exactly!' Bill affirmed. 'There was no time for some dastardly masterplan! And the few of us clued-in on tonight's operation were rather busy getting on with it!'
This was true, Hermione reflected... everyone was accounted for or didn't even know what was happening. Except... 'Where were YOU when all this happened, Tansy?'
'Wh–when?' Tansy stammered, caught off-guard. She could barely meet Hermione's gaze.
'When the fire broke out?'
'In the study.'
'Alone?'
'I was tired…' Tansy's eye suddenly swam with tears. 'No. That's not true… I was petrified. All this talk of luring a dark wizard to Shell Cottage?' She sniffed and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. 'I've only just got better from – from what happened… with the pigman.'
Yes, she was truly terrified, Hermione thought. Traumatised, even. She gave Tansy a sympathetic smile. 'It's okay. I'm not accusing you.'
Although she did fit the physical description of the small, grey woman - and she clearly KNEW about the plan to capture Salvedra and she'd also been alone.
Hermione fixed her with an intense stare, gently probing her from afar with her purple... it was staggering, she thought, how she didn't even need to touch someone anymore to do that...
No. There was no one skulking inside Tansy. Not now, at least. Which meant...
'Is there something else you're not telling us?' Molly asked, her deep brown eyes roving Hermione's face, needle-sharp.
'No…' Hermione said, jumping up from the sofa. No point scaring everyone. She caught Vithu's eye and he nodded. Heknew. Bright lad. He'd worked it out...
'I'll go and help the others.'
'I'll come with you,' Bill said.
'No, no... I'm fine,' she smiled, weaving her way past Molly, aware she was watching her as she headed out the door into the garden.
DOLORES… she thought. Where are you now? How did you KNOW that we were going after Salvedra tonight?
She strode towards the perimeter fence bordering the purple field of flowers, suddenly wishing she'd allowed Bill to accompany her after all, but she could hear the burble of male voices coming out of the darkness from the far end of the garden. Draco was within shouting distance.
She approached the flower-laden glasshouse she'd created for Melissa. So quiet. Peaceful. And very dark inside. Almost impenetrable.
She stood at the entrance… There was nobody there. But she didn't expect there to be...
Hermione entered and sat down on the small hardback chair that Fleur liked to sit on when she drank her morning tea with Melissa. She was overwhelmed by the smell of flowers – wisteria, roses, jasmine… sickly, cloying. She gulped back her nausea… now really wasn't the time.
'Where are you?' she murmured, closing her eyes, summoning her inner strength.
It was blindingly obvious when she thought about it. Dolores didn't need to PHYSICALLY enter Shell Cottage at all, not when she could sneak inside the picture-world that Hermione herself had constructed inside Melissa's mind.
'Hermione…' came a voice from the doorway.
'You're awake,' Hermione said, snapping her eyes open.
Melissa's neat little figure was cast in shadow… outlined by the soft white glow of moonlight.
'She will be,' Melissa said. Except it wasn't Melissa, of course – even though it was Melissa's voice. 'I won't harm her.'
'I hope not. She's innocent in all of this,' Hermione said, her voice quavering in spite of herself. She wanted to be strong. Formidable… Fearless.
Melissa stepped into her floral shelter and now Hermione could feel the truth of it all. The dark grey she associated with Dolores. It was all-encompassing.
'And before you get any ideas,' Hermione said, lifting her chin defiantly, 'I won't let you takeme… or anyone else for that matter!'
Melissa's eyes were pitch-black and larger than usual - unnaturally so.
'I've no intention of taking you today, Hermione,' Dolores countered. 'But I had to protect Grandmaster. I'm bound to do so, you see. And it appears I succeeded.'
Hermione nodded slowly. 'Yes, you won… but how did you know what we planned to do? I presume you have a spy here?' She hated even thinking this because it likely meant someone she trusted... they'd have to be careful from now on.
'If I did, why would I tell you?' Dolores gave a nasty, barking laugh… it was shockingly removed from Melissa's fluting, girlish giggle.
'Well, it'd make my life a whole lot easier,' Hermione retorted, flippantly. She pinched the top of her nose, suddenly dizzy with weariness.
Dolores smirked. 'I understand your frustration, Hermione. Truly, I do. But I have my orders. And my main purpose, at all times, is to please the master I'm sworn to serve. And to keep him safe.' Her face twitched and for a moment Hermione sensed some deeper dissatisfaction within Dolores... Was it with her Grandmaster? The terms of her service? Or had she once failed him and flinched at the memory?
'How long have you served Salvedra?' Hermione asked, genuinely curious. Dolores looked to be in her thirties - but there was something ancient and timeless about her, too.
A dark shadow briefly fell across her face. 'I've been The Keeper for many, many years... it's my solemn duty.'
'So you could release Narcissa Malfoy!'
Dolores shook her head and laughed. 'Only if the Grandmaster instructs me to do so... Ah. I see you fail to comprehend my position, Hermione! But then you've always been free, I guess. You've never known the considerable satisfaction one derives from serving well. It is a great honour.'
'HONOUR?' Hermione sneered. 'Salvedra wants to destroy those I love and much, much more. He poses a threat to mankind! How can it be honourable to serve such a man?' Tears flooded her eyes… 'It's not honourable at all. It's disgraceful, pathetic. Speaking witch-to-witch, I think you're capable of much more than that, Dolores.'
'You misunderstand me,' Dolores said, and her voice had a new softness to it. 'His grandiose schemes are of little interest to me, although it's not for me to pass judgement. That is not my role. I am beholden to the man, not his mission.' She paused a moment as though wondering if she should continue... 'But I have helped you, too. In small ways that you've barely noticed I believe. Tiny clues, small shoots that I knew would flourish and bloom inside your mind… leading you to uncover greater truths... And I can see when someone thinks they're hiding from me, Hermione. I can lead them to knowledge.'
Hermione gawped at her, open-mouthed. Was she telling the truth? Had Dolores helped her and she never actually noticed?
She instantly recalled Dolores telling her and Draco in Argentina that her mother-in-law had died of Gimlott's… that Gimlott's sufferers turned BLUE, like Dark Flux victims… Except there never was a mother-in-law... That had been a fabrication… And yet that random piece of information had sown a seed in her mind, guiding her towards the unconscionable truth of it all…The truth behind Dark Flux and how it was made.
And then there was the time Hermione had followed her through the paintings to El Sol y Ter and witnessed Sylvestra's request to have Katya released from her tower. But here was Dolores effectively telling her that she'd seen through Hermione's Disillusionment Charm that night.
'You are as an open book to me, Hermione… I see it all. The secrets of your heart...' Dolores continued, speaking in honeyed tones. She'd advanced without Hermione noticing and her face was clearly visible to Hermione now beneath the softer, sweeter contours of Melissa's visage. 'Ever since we met I have also seen the paths – for there is always more than one – that stretch before you… And I wish to reassure you, to reiterate that it is not my wish to inflict harm on you unnecessarily. But... I must still warn you, querida… Grandmaster's bidding is foremostand it always will be.And protecting him will always come first. If he demands something of me I will ALWAYS obey.'
Hermione's ears pricked up. Draco's voice coming closer… and Harry, too.
Dolores cocked her head to listen. 'Time for me to go… Rest assured, the protections on this place remain. They are untouched. Your friend here was my way in… she will be unhurt and remember nothing of this.'
'But you could use her to come again!'
'No. That won't be possible,' Dolores said. 'Unless I'm directly ordered to do so, I have no desire to harm the occupants of this house, especially the children. They are of no consequence to me…' She gave Hermione a thin smile and extended her hand in farewell – but Hermione instinctively recoiled; fiery, defensive. She could feel her magic, silvery-white, ghosting across her skin, her hairs standing on end.
Dolores laughed. 'You defend your young like a tigress!'
And the light dimmed in her eyes and her face slackened and Melissa's body tumbled to the ground; boneless, jellied.
'Hermione?' Draco's voice echoed from the doorway. His shadow blocked the light so he didn't immediately understand why she'd fallen to her knees and was desperately hauling Melissa into an upright position.
But then he was at her side, helping her lift Melissa's lifeless body onto the bed.
'She said she wouldn't hurt her,' Hermione wept, furious at Dolores's betrayal, presuming the worst.
But as she spoke, Melissa's eyes fluttered open. She gazed at Hermione and Draco, a combination of fear and relief on her face. 'What happened?' she asked. 'Where am I?'
'Shell Cottage,' Hermione said, cradling her in her arms. 'You're fine. Everything's fine.'
Melissa's chest was heaving, breathing in lungfuls of air. 'I'm alive? This is real?'
'Of course it is!' Hermione smiled, squeezing her hand.
'What's going on?' Fleur asked from the doorway. She was flanked by Harry and Niko. 'Oh!' she yelped, when she saw Melissa staring back at her. 'You're back!'
XXX
Finally, FINALLY, Hermione was in her own bed at Folkvangr with Draco. She'd rarely felt this tired but had told Draco everything that Dolores had said.
'This means we have a traitor… Someone warned Dolores.'
'Yes. It looks that way,' Draco sighed. But then he lapsed into a long silence.
'What are you thinking?'
'Wondering who we can trust... Except, I honestly don't think anyone at Shell Cottage deliberately betrayed our plan, Hermione. There wasn't time.'
'No...'
'And if they did, was Salvedra expecting us?'
'Well, Asusto showed up!'
'Yes. But Josep didn't.' He turned to look at her. 'I don't think Salvedra knew a thing. I think only Dolores did - and that's crucial. She acted quickly to save her master. And she knew the plan.'
'But how?' Hermione was mystified.
'Well, just think through who knew what was happening tonight...'
'We only decided to act once Niko turned up,' Hermione pointed out. 'Aside from the five of us who went into the picture - and Padma, of course - Henrik, Parvati, Thelonious and Oleg were in the room - and I'm sorry, Draco, but I don't think anyof them are traitors. Or under an Imperious Curse.'
'I agree with you. And even if they were, I doubt they'd have had enough time to warn Dolores.'
'How about the Muggles?' Hermione suggested.
Draco considered this. 'Alenka seems a decent sort... she knew the plan for sure. But not the full extent of it. It had to be someone who knew about the painting - and they had to know that Bill, Fleur and Kai were critical to destroying it. They were the weak link I'm afraid.'
Hermione sighed into her pillow. She was exhausted even thinking about this. 'Maybe Dolores IS a seer after all?' she groaned. 'Maybe she saw it in her fucking crystal ball?'
'You're forgetting somewhere, Hermione.' Draco's eyes glowed as he spoke. 'The Burrow.'
'No, no, no... Molly's the last person who'd betray us. Arthur, too!'
'But they're not alone there, are they?' He held Hermione's gaze and her stomach turned over.
'You're thinking Katya,' she said, her voice dropping to a whisper.
'Dolores was her Keeper and... it looks like Katya's communicating with somebodythrough her drawings. Dolores is the most likely candidate.'
Hermione felt unaccountably scared... she took a deep, shuddering breath. 'I doubt the plan was discussed right in front of her.'
'Fleur floo-ed to The Burrow to fetch Molly... she might have let something slip. Not intentionally! But enough.'
'But she certainly wouldn't have said something in front of KATYA! Nobody trusts her,' Hermione reasoned.
'Doesn't mean she didn't overhear something.' Draco looked pained. 'We need to look at her drawing-pad again, Hermione... see if there's any new pictures we should be worrying about...'
Hermione sighed. 'Oh lordy. I hate Molly and Arthur being there with her.'
'I doubt she'll hurt them. If she IS a spy for Dolores... she won't do anything rash that gets her chucked out.'
'Not yet,' Hermione muttered. 'But we need to warn Molly and Arthur, all the same. And we need to work out what we do next to take out Salvedra. Harry's right. He'll be on guard now.'
'We won't need to seek him out,' Draco said in doleful tones. 'He'll seek usout instead... He has a vengeful spirit. I'd even say it's his defining characteristic.'
'Even so... we should talk about this tomorrow with everybody. Hold a meeting.'
'For sure... although... I need to go to Malfoy Manor, actually. Check it over one last time.' He pulled her close. 'I - I was rather hoping you'd come with me.'
'But of course I will,' she smiled.
XXX
'Surreal…' Hermione murmured as they stepped through the heavy oak doors of Malfoy Manor and saw it stripped of every item of furniture, its rooms plain and bare.
Strangely, it seemed grander and more imposing, its vast, empty spaces transected by dark, angular shadows skewered by beams of light - alive with dancing, silvery dust-motes - piercing through drawn curtains and closed shutters.
'At least Ephraim didn't lie about the wards,' Draco said, a subdued, melancholic expression on his face. His eyes landed on her and she could feel he needed her. She slipped her hand into his and his fingers curled around hers, soft and warm, as he tugged her from one room to the next. They ventured upstairs… downstairs… down steep steps to the locked-up cellars, along winding corridors to the kitchens, up spiral staircases to attics, traversing wide carpeted landings to grand master suites with wood-panelled walls and yawning expanses of window overlooking the oxbow lake, Narcissa's pretty rose garden and her Plangentine grove, across sweeping lawns to Lucius Malfoy's glittering mausoleum.
'We'll get her back,' Hermione breathed as they watched a pair of albino peacocks strutting along the path that ran along one side of the lake.
'We'll need Salvedra dead first…'
He was right. The spell that held Narcissa in limbo literally had to be broken... and it would require Salvedra's death.
'When all of this is over, I want to find out more about my grandfather's family,' Draco said with the decided air of somebody who'd already put some thought to this. 'If he was a Muggle-born, that means I have Muggle relations.' He gave her a peculiar, crooked smile. To her astonishment, he was actually excited about this! She'd never have thought that possible… once upon a time.
'Presumably Voltimand was local.'
'Perhaps. The stables here once warranted a riding instructor,' Draco said, as they turned away from the window and headed down the stairs to the entrance hall. 'Titian and Caravaggio were spoilt for space.'
'Who?'
'Scorpius's ponies…sweet wee things. Titian's a Shetland, Caravaggio's a Haflinger – very handsome but a bit of a brute, actually.'
'Where are they now?'
Draco's face darkened. 'Sylvestra gave them to a riding school. Shame… the kids would love them. I reckon Rose would have the measure of Caravaggio in no time!'
'I don't think ponies in the garden at Folkvangr would work somehow,' Hermione smiled, although she was suddenly dying to see Scorpius reconciled with them.
'We won't be there forever.'
'So, presuming Voltimand was from around here, it's possible you have Muggle family in Folborough?' Hermione said, resuming their former conversation.
'I'm not so sure. My grandparents didn't spend too much time at Malfoy Manor, actually. They spent more time in France… Although Voltimand was English.'
'If he was a valued servant, he might have travelled with them?' Hermione suggested.
'He was clearly very valued by my grandmother…'
'To think, Draco, just six months ago, you'd have been horrified by that,' Hermione said tartly.
Draco curled his lip nonchalantly. 'Well, Abraxas was a bit of a cunt … so I'm quite glad not to be carrying his genes forward to future generations.'
They were now at the bottom of the stairs and he span her around, guiding her into the large drawing-room on their left. He pulled her close and his hand fell to her stomach. She caught her breath, gazing at the soft gleam in his eyes.
'Our baby, Hermione, it isn't a Malfoy at all… I don't even know what Voltimand's surname was, actually!'
'Maybe we just call it MALFOP and have done with it?' she laughed, recalling Rose's proposal when she'd learned that Scorpius was a dreaded Malfoy!
He kept her close, wrapping his arms around her, and she felt his stomach moving in and out against her, his chest filling with air as he breathed deeply. 'I fucking love you,' he said, his eyes not leaving her face.
She glanced around the room they were standing in. It seemed darker, more shadowy than the others; shutters firmly closed against the summer sun. It was much smaller than the last time she'd been here – and for a moment she recalled the feverish buoyancy she'd felt dancing with Draco in a roomful of enemies… her palpable excitement when he touched her, when he twirled her into his arms.
They were always headed here, to this moment in time – she could see that now. To a sense of belonging.
But as she reflected on this and his eyes followed hers around the room, a growing darkness descended on them, casting back further to a different time in their lives when they were familiar strangers. Implacable enemies. When this same man whose child she was carrying, who she loved to the point of madness, had watched as his aunt tortured her and did nothing…
'We still need to talk about it,' he said.
'You've said sorry…'
'Yes. For everything.' He dipped his head and stared at her neck, her mouth, her hair and she could feel his heart clattering – suddenly nervous. 'But... it'll never be enough.'
'It is for me…' she whispered.
'I worry – worry that I don't deserve you.' His hand moved again to her stomach and he tenderly stroked her.
'I'm no great catch,' she said with a flippant laugh, teasing him…
'You fucking are,' he said gruffly, pulling her tight against him. She could feel his arousal and wondered if making love to Draco in this room would vanquish the past forever … but then he surprised her, grabbing her hand and pulling her away from the shadows, up, up, up beyond the bedrooms, even past the attics…
They squeezed along a narrow passageway, ducking to pass through a small door at the end, illuminated by a skylight window. 'I used to come here all the time as a kid,' he said gleefully, 'no one ever knew! Although that elf you and Harry were friends with – Dobby – he once found me up here! I was terrified he'd tell my parents but he never did…'
Dobby, Hermione thought with a sigh… so many shared connections, connections she never heeded as they were simply woven into the fabric of their lives.
Draco led her up a rickety metal staircase and they stepped outside onto a sea of grey slates – a flat expanse buttressed by tall, steepled towers. She looked up at the clear, cerulean blue sky and gasped. It seemed so close! She was acutely aware of the vertiginous drops that weren't too far beyond this tiled space where she was standing, holding Draco's hand – but she was also in awe at the beauty of the golden glow of sunshine bleeding into the blue overhead and the soft coos of white turtle-doves nesting under slatted awnings up the length of the towers.
'I'd sit up here for hours on end,' Draco confided. He led her towards the front-facing edge of one of the towers where a long stone jutted from the base – an accidental bench. They were closer now to the edge - and a perilous, precipitious fall. She was glad the wind was warm and calm.
She gazed around – the gardens unfolded before them and the view from here encompassed far more than the Malfoy estate; over the walls, too. The busy life of Folborough flowed past the manor – cars and people, a cyclist – and the quaint High Street trailed up a hill in the opposite direction.
To her surprise, the thatched cottages and Victorian terraces that bordered the High Street were less deep than she expected. A modern road curved around the back of the old part of town; a boundary between the ancient heart and a wedge of red-brick houses and pebble-dashed semis and a grey-clad swathe of council houses abutting a small school – a collection of portakabins for the most part – and a stretch of playing fields. Even from this height and distance Hermione could make out a bunch of children playing football – she even fancied she could hear the sound of a whistle blowing on the wind.
Draco was watching the game and for a brief moment she spotted a trace of wistful longing on his face and she suspected he'd felt that same emotion when he was a child – and probably hated himself – and them – for feeling that way. A lonely, confused boy…
'Did you want to play football too?'
He shrugged. 'I was too busy thinking how pathetic it was that they didn't have broomsticks…' He shook his head. 'Tragic, eh?'
'I bet you wanted to play really.'
He looked at her, his eyes gleaming silver in the sunlight. 'Of course I did… But the last person I was going to admit that to was myself.'
He felt for her hands and held them in her own. 'I brought you here for a reason today.'
Her heart instinctively sped up and she didn't know why.
'Thing is… it feels like everything's a bit shit,' he said, 'like we're losing…' he grimaced. 'But I really don't want you to feel like that. I want you to know that there's hope... MORE than hope, actually. Because we won't lose, Hermione. We're gonna win. I know we will. Because we've fucked up their plans, we've destroyed their homes and Ephraim's in jail – a victory achieved almost entirely by you I should add.'
'How so?'
'Because you were strong and good and never cow-towed to him… and you persuaded him to surrender. You made him want to be a better man… and he couldn't live with what he'd become… not at all, actually.'
He gazed at her with a peculiar intensity. 'I know that's the truth,' he continued, 'because it's the same for me – and it's why, when time has passed, when we've resolved everything with Ron and Katya… I want you to be my wife.'
Hermione beamed indulgently. 'I've no doubt I will be - one day...'
'Yes,' he said earnestly, 'but… I'm asking you formally, Hermione… When we're free, that very moment – will you marry me?'
Her eyes were suddenly - unexpectedly - awash with tears…
'But it might be years,' she smiled. She patted her belly. 'He or she will probably be in school by then!'
'And might even have a brother or sister, too,' he grinned. Hermione thought of Gabby describing them as 'fecund' – yes, she was right. There'd be more...
'We'll have a school-full of children if we're not careful!' she said, shaking her head fondly, feeling like her face might ache with smiling.
A curious expression burst onto Draco's face. 'That's not a bad thought, actually…'
'A school?' Yes… she could see that. 'Where?'
'Not here.'
'Well, it obviously can't be Malfoy Manor, Draco! It belongs to the Ministry or this American bank Ephraim flogged it to!'
'I know,' he said ruefully. 'But that's fine, because I'd rather we were somewhere new and peaceful. Somewhere beautiful that we could grow to love…'
She nodded enthusiastically.
'A crumbling, old Manoir, perhaps? Somewhere I could patch up – because I doubt we could afford something spangly and new anymore–' he continued. He looked towards Folborough. 'Somewhere with enough land for playing fields.'
'But where would we get the teachers from?'
'Well, YOU for starters. You'd be the most amazing teacher imaginable.'
'You're not exactly stupid yourself,' she laughed. 'And who would I be teaching?'
'Anyone who wanted to know about magic?' He gave her a sly, secretive smile. 'Not strictly legal that, but… there could be an oath of allegiance or something!'
'You mean MUGGLES?'
'Only those who have connections… knowledge…'
'Like Alfred.'
He nodded. 'Like Alfred.'
'And any other creature, too… Something truly… ecumenical.'
Draco grinned. 'I haven't a fucking clue what that means you know!'
'Oh! It's like a religious thing… bringing together all churches.'
'Sounds good.' He paused. 'Because we also have a bunch of refugees who need to be looked after… in the end they'll deserve a choice. To go back to where they came from or have a home with us.'
They locked eyes and a bubbling sense of excitement flowed between them.
'YES,' she declared.
'You think it's a good idea?'
'I meant YES – I want to marry you. I don't mind if we don't, if we are as we are… it makes no difference to how we feel… but that very moment you mentioned… the moment we're free, I want to be your wife, Draco, for us to be together for the rest of our lives.'
It was Draco's turn now – his eyes glistened with tears and his hands gently stroked hers, soft, insistent… overcome with emotion …
'That's – that's wonderful,' he said eventually in a low, husky voice.
He looked up at her and his eyes twinkled. 'There's one room I haven't shown you yet,' he said with an impish smile.
'And what's that?'
He curled his arms around her waist and bent his lips to her ear and his voice tickled. 'My old bedroom…'
She twisted her arms around his neck and grinned. 'But it'll be empty.'
'Not with us in it…' His mouth captured hers and they kissed with deep, fervent passion, the sun warm on their heads and a gentle breeze caressing their cheeks.
XXX
CHAPTER TRACKS:
"PRACTICE MAKES PERFECT" by WIRE
"THE ARCHITECT" by JANE WEAVER
"WHERE THE TREES ARE ON FIRE" by THESE NEW PURITANS
"SWEET DREAMS" by THE EURYTHMICS
"BORN SLIPPY" by UNDERWORLD
"LIVE FOREVER" by OASIS
Disclaimer: I own nothing except my original characters.
Author's Note:
With real life behaving like the worst and most frightening kind of fiction lately there's been moments this past fortnight when I've wondered if I should actually finish this story. It suddenly feels very small and silly… but then I thought that applies to most things I once thought were important – and that just because life is suddenly unavoidably huge and surreal, that shouldn't diminish the things we've cared about or enjoyed doing for their own sake. In fact, holding onto the things we love doing, the things we hope to soon do again, the things that make us happy – and hopefully others happy, too - are more important than ever before.
So, yes, this is definitely getting finished. There's three chapters to go, including the Epilogue. It's only fair to say that there are 'challenging' moments in the next couple of chapters when it looks like all might be lost – but… without wanting to spoil, in the immortal, wise words of Luna Lovegood:"I'll just go down and have some pudding and wait for it all to turn up ... It always does in the end."
I hope everyone stays safe and well. I'll shut up now until I say goodbye at the end of the story. X
