Hermione had thought the castle was tense before, but after McGonagall leaves—
(it's only been two days, but they've been the most hellish two days the current student body has ever seen at Hogwarts.)
Everyone's distracted during their Defense exam—
(it's hard to focus when the world is crumbling around you. when things like exams and grades feel meaningless as havoc reigns.)
But it's also the first time they've publicly been able to perform defense spells in a year; not in a disappearing room or an underground chamber, not disguised as charm work, not looking over their shoulder for fear of expulsion.
Hermione finds herself looking around the room constantly, holding back a full-blown grin at the sight of ASA members all around the Great Hall successfully performing Defense spells.
Umbridge stands at the front of the hall, looking shocked and furious, which further adds to Hermione's glee. The woman clearly has no idea how they've all managed to be proficient—she's so deeply bothered by it that it's probably cause for concern, if she decides to investigate later, but Hermione can't bear to worry about that right now.
(for just this moment, she wants to believe they've won.)
She watches Neville perfectly shield from a stunning spell, Daphne cast a textbook reducto, and for some reason out of the corner of her eye she spots Harry casting a Patronus charm. It's—
(just this moment.)
And then it's the History of Magic OWL, one even she finds rather tedious—it sucks, that wizarding history is so fascinating and nuanced and layered, and yet the parts they test on are so incredibly far away from what really matters.
She catches Harry, Ron, and Pansy all falling asleep during it, and has to resist the urge to throw her shoes at them—she decides against it, knowing with how little they've paid attention in class over the years they probably might as well sleep.
It's their last OWL, though, so when the hourglass runs out and the proctor summons all the exams to her a cheer arises among their entire year.
(Everything was against them this year, but—they made it.)
"We did it!" Harry exclaims when they make it out into the hallway.
"Does sleeping through the entire exam really count as having done it?" Hermione asks shrewdly, narrowing her eyes at them both.
Harry scoffs, knowing she's not really mad as he plants a kiss on her cheek. "Come on, Mia, you know as well as I do we were never going to pass that one."
"I suppose," she relents with a wry smile.
Ron grins widely, moving to pick her up and spin her around. "Relax a bit, Hermione, we're free!"
Harry's laughing beside them, and from across the corridor she can see the smile in Draco's eye.
"Alright, alright, I will if you put me down, Ronald!" she giggles despite herself as he plants her back on her feet, Harry reaching out an arm to help steady her.
There's only an hour before dinner, so they make their way outside along with all the rest of the OWL and NEWT students who are desperate to be away from a desk, ravenous for fresh air.
It won't last, they know it, but for one hour their entire year is at peace—sun, and grass, and just breathing. One hour of pretending Voldemort's not back, there's not a war on the horizon, the government and administration haven't been overrun—one hour of calm.
(just that is enough.)
The joyful mood prevails throughout the night, on to a celebratory party in the Gryffindor common room, wherein more people are drunk than Hermione has ever seen in her time at Hogwarts.
"I wish the twins were here," she says wistfully, feeling slightly guilty for reminding Harry and Ron they're not with them but just tipsy enough to be honest.
"Me too. Although if things are already this insane, I can only imagine how wild it would be with them," Ron admits.
Harry makes a face. "Yeah, I'm sure they're way happier wherever they are instead anyway. Perks of being of age."
"Oh, definitely—Daphne says they're doing better than ever. And they bought a storefront over Christmas," Hermione reveals, before clapping a hand to her mouth. "Shit, I don't know if they wanted anyone to know yet. I mean, they didn't say it was a secret, but if they haven't been telling people—"
Rolling his eyes, Ron waves away her concern. "Nah, they've probably just kept quiet to keep Mum from finding out before it's ready. Besides, they like any excuse to be dramatic, and—"
He's interrupted by an owl swooping through the window, swooping close enough to drop an envelope on his lap before flying away just as quickly.
Harry raises his eyebrows. "Who the hell is writing you at eleven o'clock at night?"
Ron makes a face, looking confused as he eyes the label before moving to open the envelope. "Percy's handwriting. But it's weird for him to write this late—and to not use Hermes to send it."
He hums nonsensically as he takes out the letter—only to choke on air a moment later.
"You okay?" Harry turns to check on him, only to grow actually worried at the horror on Ron's face, freckles staunchly standing out against the pale white of his skin. "Ron, what's wrong?"
"I can't—" Ron gapes, mouthing at open air. "He's—they're—"
Harry and Hermione both move to look over both his shoulders—and their own blood runs cold.
(Percy. Being held captive by Death Eaters in the Department of Mysteries.)
He wouldn't have written, would've taken the torture and refused to have put anyone else in danger, but—
Tonks his with him.
(And she's pregnant.)
"Oh god," Harry whispers, looking nauseous. Even before words escape him, Hermione knows what he's thinking—this is his fault.
(so many other people in danger so that Voldemort can get to him.)
(of course he doesn't hesitate.)
They're on their feet immediately—Harry clambers toward the portrait hole, but they both tug him back.
"Let me go! I have to—help—"
"Harry, you will," Hermione soothes, "I promise, and we'll be with you every step of the way. But if we want Percy and Tonks to have their best shot, we need to think this through before we leave, okay?"
"She's right, mate," Ron agrees, though he looks half a second away from sprinting out the door himself. "We have to figure out an actual way to get there—maybe we can use Remus's floo, or—"
"Remus!" Harry exclaims, lurching forward all over again.
Hermione tugs him backward. "We'll get Remus, but before anything we need to get ready—we all need to change into clothes we can move more easily in, you need to get the Invisibility Cloak just in case, and I'm going to grab sober up potions for all of us because we are all so far from coherent enough to face Voldemort right now!"
Harry nods, allowing Ron to pull him towards their dormitory, and Hermione does exactly that, racing up to her own room. Ginny finds her hastily throwing on a jumper and jeans, jerkily shoving a few emergency medical supplies into a drawstring bag.
"What's going on?"
Hermione hesitates—doesn't want to be the one to tell her the thing that'll flip her world on its axis.
(But Ginny's one of her best friends. And it's her family in danger, too.)
"Death Eaters are holding Percy and Tonks hostage in the Ministry."
Ginny doesn't flinch—her jaw locks, and she visibly braces herself without any follow-up questions. "Right behind you."
They hurry to the common room, only beating the boys down by thirty seconds or so, Neville alongside them; Hermione gives him a nod—as much as she'd love to make him and Ginny stay at Hogwarts and not put them in any danger, they're some of the strongest ASA members, and will be invaluable up against god knows how many Death Eaters.
(and even if they weren't—it's their lives, and not a choice she gets to make for them.)
(she doesn't believe in being the reason anyone's choices are out of their own control.)
(for obvious reasons.)
They disillusion themselves as they race into the hallway, but before they can even make it to the Charms corridor they're all locked in a full body-bind.
Umbridge and three IS members show themselves, the headmistress looking far, far too happy for anyone's liking.
(one of the three being Draco, face stony but eyes racing a million miles an hour, the way Hermione knows means he's trying to find them an out.)
"Out of bed after curfew, are we?" she smirks, clapping her hands together. "I knew a caterwauling charm on the hallways after hours would pay off eventually. Let's get you all to my office so we can chat about where exactly you were off to, yes?"
She turns her wand on Harry and Ron to levitate them herself, while the three Slytherins unfreeze and grip Hermione, Neville, and Ginny and tug them along; Draco has Hermione, of course, and as shitty as the circumstances are the warmth of him at her side calms her enough to start thinking rationally.
When there's just enough distance between them and Crabbe, she mouths, "Remus."
Draco nods, immediately understanding; he waits a beat for just another yard of distance between them all before whispering "expecto patronum—Umbridge. Emergency. "The silvery dragon forms, and he mutters Remus's name, the patronus disappearing from view instantaneously.
"Keep up, Malfoy," Goyle calls from ahead, more bold than usual at the prospect of glory, being the one to help Harry Potter finally be expelled from Hogwarts.
Inside Umbridge's office, she double-checks that they're all unfrozen and disarmed, and turns to them with a chilling grin.
"I'll be generous and offer you the opportunity to voluntarily tell me where you were off to. Whoever is the first to fess up will be shown…much more leniency." She waits a moment, eyeing them all, but no one moves to respond.
Ginny goes so far as to spit at her, unfazed when Umbridge grabs her arm in response, fingernails puncturing the skin.
"Very well, then, we'll start with you. I'm afraid dear Professor Snape is out of veritaserum, so we'll have to turn to some," she licks her lips, " alternative methods. Cornelius will understand, of course, what with you consorting with a known fugitive." She raises her wand, eyes narrowed at Ginny. "Cru—"
The door slams open, Remus's form more intimidating than ever in the doorway.
Hermione watches his nostrils flare—scenting the room for blood to make sure they're not hurt.
"What is the meaning of this, Dolores?"
"Of course you're in on it to, filthy pet of Albus's that you are," she sneers. "It's none of your concern, werewolf. The students were out of bed after hours, and it's within my power to decide how best to discipline them."
Remus narrows his eyes, taking one step closer to her and enjoying the way she cowers backwards even with him a room a way. "Perhaps I would accept that if I hadn't heard the beginnings of an Unforgivable Curse on your lips when I came in."
Umbridge's lip curls. "You have no proof."
"He doesn't need to," Neville pipes up. "You've been using blood quills all year—illegal in seventy-six countries. And on a member of his house."
Remus's jaw twitches, and Hermione internally cringes at the lecture they'll be getting later for keeping that detail from him all year.
"I have every right to challenge you to a duel for that, Dolores, as per every wizarding law." He cocks an eyebrow, smiling as she scowls to hide the fear creeping into her eyes. "It would feel like vengeance, for everything you've done to myself and so many other oppressed groups over the years." His eyes flash golden the way they do when Moony takes over, the nearing full moon and his own raging anger thinning the walls between them.
He stare her down for a beat before clenching his jaw. "But I won't waste my time. I'm told there's an emergency for us to handle—I intend to help whoever is in danger, and you are nothing but a gnat in my way."
A wordless swipe of his wand and ropes are appearing, wrapping around Umbridge's limbs, tightening and knotting until she's entirely incapable of motion.
"How dare you! I am Senior Undersecretary—"
"Quite frankly I don't give a fuck, Dolores. The only thing you are that matters to me is a bigot." He tucks an errant lock of hair behind his ear. "Consider this a citizen's arrest. You're not receiving what you deserve, which is much worse, so count your lucky stars for that—and be grateful my husband isn't here to turn a wand on you himself."
Umbridge glowers, ignoring all of his words. She ooks to the three Slytherins in the room, eyes filled with a terrifying bloodthirstiness. "You three—get them! I give you the full authority of the ministry to disarm and subdue them by any means necessary."
It's at that moment that Draco and Hermione move simultaneously, so in sync they don't have to discuss it as he moves to stun Crabbe and she likewise incapacitates Goyle.
Umbridge gapes, not understanding. "What—"
"Oh, fuck off you hag," Draco bites out, before stunning her too. He's nonplussed by the stares of the rest of the room. "What, we were all thinking it. I've had to spend too many hours with her this year. Someone just remember to obliviate her later. Don't we need to leave?"
"Yes," Harry says aggressively.
Hermione levels him with a look. "Do you have any plans as to how we'll get there?"
"No, because my sister is the most brilliant witch on the planet and I'm hoping she has an idea?" he wheedles.
She rolls her eyes. "Thestrals is all I can come up with, but seeing as only you would be able to see them it should be our worst case scenario."
"Lu's coming too, and she can see them," he says defensively before quieting.
Remus clears his throat. "Or perhaps you should all wait here and leave it to the Order. Care to fill me in on the specifics?"
"You're hilarious, Moony," Harry scoffs. "He has Percy and Tonks held hostage in the Department of Mysteries. If I don't go, we have no idea what he'll do to them. This is why me and Mia being full-fledged members is so important—we don't get to just stay back where it's safe. The Order should come too, but—I'm not losing time to wait for them."
"Floo," Draco interrupts, before the argument can do on any further, as Luna swiftly creeps into the room. "I know my father's code to floo directly into the Ministry's lobby for work—we can say you gave me veritaserum to get it out of me, or something to that effect."
Harry nods. "Good idea. You should wear the cloak—you can't be seen with us there."
Draco shakes his head. "Too risky—the odds of me getting hit by a stray hex, or tripping someone, or them bumping into me and being pushed into the line of fire are too high."
Hermione offers him her drawstring, and he wordlessly searches within until he finds the vial he's looking for, downing it soundly.
Remus rubs at his temples, looking exasperated. "The hell is that?"
"Polyjuice, courteousy of the twins' hair donations. It's leftover from ASA meetings."
"We don't have any more time for talking, we need to go," Harry declares. "We can leave from here, since her fireplace is the only one without the block."
"Harry, please—"
"Moony I can't." His eyes are beseeching. "I love you, but we're going. I'm sorry. You and Sirius have raised me to be brave and always protect my friends—the friends that are family. This is me doing that. Please don't hate me."
(Hermione's heart twinges, that even after all this time it crosses his mind that a misstep will lose him his guardian's love.)
Before Remus can say anything else, he and Draco (now resembling Fred) move into the fireplace, spinning away almost instantaneously and leaving connection open behind them for the rest to follow.
Hermione bites her lip as she turns to the professor. "Get the Order—I'll take care of him until you can all get there."
Remus replies with a world weary nod and grim smile.
(Within a moment they're all in the middle of the ministry.)
/
"This way," Draco leads.
As much as she's seen him in Fred and George's skin this year, it's disorienting here and now, when his mannerisms shine through in the stress of the moment as they race down to the Department of Mysteries.
They make it inside, coming to a standstill in a circular room of doors.
"Which way—"
One of the doors swings open silently, and they all make eye contact.
Ginny makes a face. "So do we think…"
"Definitely a trap," Luna finishes drily, looking resigned to the futility of the situation.
"Not like we have much of a choice but to walk into it, though," Ron says grimly. "Whatever happens, we stick together. And Harry's the one we want—so we surround him so that the rest of us aren't disposable to them."
They file inward, making their way into a cavernous room filled with floor-to-ceiling shelves of smoky glass globes, one after the other.
"What is this place?" Harry whispers.
Neville sucks in a breath. "Hall of Prophecy. He's—oh, Merlin, he must be after the one about you and him, Harry."
"That's why he needed you here, Potter," Draco realizes. "Only one in the prophecy itself can lift it from its place on the shelves."
"What—prophecy? What are you talking about?"
"They never told you?!" Neville practically chokes, wide eyed. "It's—Gran's always told me it was the reason he targeted you in the first place. They weren't sure which of us it was about, which is why my parents went into hiding too, until…anyway. I don't know the specifics."
Hermione squeezes Harry's hand, noting the surprise and pallor of his face at the realization.
They make their way down a side aisle before a muffled noise draws their attention, and they catch sight of Percy and Tonks's crumpled forms on the floor at the center of the chamber.
"Percy!" Ron charges ahead, Harry right on his heels as they make their way towards them.
They rush to remove the gags from both their mouths and cast a finite on the body bind holding them in place; Percy's jaw is set, eyes wide with visible worry, while Tonks maintains an unaffected front.
"Are you okay?" Harry asks, reaching to untie their arms.
"You need to run," Percy says breathlessly, locking eyes with Tonks. "Get out of here, now, all of you, I'll hold them off."
A laugh sounds from a few yards away and they all instinctively coalesce, facing the source of the noise.
"I'm afraid that's not in the cards, Mr. Weasley, though very noble of you to offer." Lucius Malfoy shimmers into few, and all around them further Death Eaters flicker into view. "Your parents would be proud, idiotic lions that they are."
Hermione watches Draco's muscles tense, the way he immediately checks his own skin to make sure the Polyjuice potion is still in effect.
(She burns with rage—the man before her is the one who's spent so many years crucio'ing her boyfriend that he flinches at any sudden movement.)
(The man responsible for every dark shadow in Draco's eyes, every horror in his mind.)
Lucius strolls to one shelf in particular, gesturing to the globes therein. "Now, Mr. Potter, hand me the prophecy, and no one needs to get hurt."
"Oh, yeah, because I completely believe you," Harry mutters, even as he moves to the prophecy in question. He reaches for it, removing it from its spot easily, an odd look on his face as he turns it in his hand. "It's not as heavy as I expected."
(Hermione can see the weight of it in his face—the realization that if what Neville said is true, this bit of glass is the reason his life has turned out the way it has.)
(this bit of glass is the reason his parents died, the reason Sirius went to Azkaban, the reason his parents' last year was misery spent lonely in hiding, the reason he grew up in an abusive household despite so many people loving him—the reason they were all taken from him.)
"No need for commentary, give it here," Lucius hisses.
Harry bites his lip, looking over to Hermione, whose eyes are dark with knowing.
Behind her, Tonks nods when he meets her gaze.
(This—this delicate sphere, is the weapon Voldemort's been after for the last year.)
(If it will help him, they can't afford to let it fall into his hands.)
Harry wants to cry, wants to beg his friends' forgiveness for getting them all into this situation and being the reason it's about to end so poorly.
(But he's a member of the Order—he knows what he has to do. Can see in his sister's eyes that she does, too.)
(it's not a choice—he has to do the right thing, even if threatens their lives.)
(They'd never forgive him if he didn't.)
"Everyone get ready to run when I say," he rasps, watching Lucius's smirk grow, thinking he's trying to plan to evade them after handing it over.
He takes a deep breath before spiking the prophecy into the floor with all of his strength, feeling all of the breath leave his chest at the sound of the shattering glass.
The room is dead silent for a heartbeat, as Lucius's face goes white with terror. "What have you done? You insolent boy—you've doomed us all!"
"Run!" Harry screams.
And then they're all dueling Death Eaters, spilling into other wings of the Department of Mysteries.
Hermione wants to look around to check on everyone, but knows she can't afford to even as she duels a still-masked Death Eater in the corridor.
"Get behind me!" Tonks's voice echoes from down the hall.
"Dora you are pregnant—"Percy begins to argue back, only for her to interrupt him.
"Pregnant or not I am a fucking Auror and do this for a living whilst you can't duel for shit, so get behind me or I will stun you!"
Hermione returns her focus to the enemy before her, finally succeeding in landing a Petrificus Totalus and panting out a relieved breath.
She takes a moment to breathe—
(in that moment there's a tingle of knowing down her spine.)
She spins around to see Draco leaping in front of her, the jet of light Lucius had aimed at her heart striking him dead center in the chest that still looks like Fred's.
Lucius turns his wand to his son's form unknowingly, and Hermione feels her heart rate spike.
(She can handle all kinds of pain, but she can't handle anything happening to him.)
"No," she gasps, hurling herself in front of his crumpled but still breathing body, in that moment filled with such a vindictive rage, firing off a laceration hex and stunner in quick succession.
Lucius falls to the ground, and Hermione turns her attention to the figure that had been standing at his side.
She fires a spell to tear down their hood, a gasp escaping her when it's none but Narcissa beneath the cloth—
(the older woman's gaze isn't on her at all, though.)
(She's staring at Draco.)
For a moment, Hermione doesn't understand—worries the other woman is about to attack him, and solidifies her defensive position in front of him where he's still wearing Fred's appearance. She's filled with panic that Draco's mother can somehow see through Polyjuice.
But it's not that—she follows Narcissa's eyes to the wand beneath his outstretched hand.
(The wand she'd taken her son to Ollivander's to buy so many years earlier.)
(The wand she's spent so many hours watching him practice spells with, use to show her his success with charms and potions, so longing for approval and love she has always wanted nothing more than to give.)
For one of so few times in her life, Hermione finds herself speechless, mouth opening and closing as she searches for words, or a solution of some sort.
Narcissa looks up at her, and there's something in her eyes—
(A familiar strength, and love, and understanding Hermione's seen in her son's eyes so, so many times.)
(Of course, this is where he gets it from.)
Narcissa casts up a shade charm so the rest of the room can't see them.
"You'll get him to safety?" the older woman asks softly, even as her eyes scan the room around them to make sure the trick of darkness holds.
"With my life," Hermione promises in a whisper.
(Wonders what a world would be like where this isn't the first conversation she has with her soul mate's mother.)
"I'm going to leave—try to discreetly alert some Ministry officials to come," Narcissa says, straightening her stance. "I was supposed to stay home. No one knew I was here except Lucius, and he won't question me leaving him for the sake of self-preservation."
Her hand twitches, and somehow Hermione just knows she's resisting the urge to stroke Draco's hair, however Weasley it appears at the moment.
"Tell my niece the baby is fine—I cast a protective enchantment I created years ago. I had so much trouble getting pregnant, and hanging on to the baby…" her eyes grow far away and deeply sorrowful, but she shakes it off. "It is strong, so her child will be just fine. Tell her I'm sorry I couldn't do more."
"I will," Hermione agrees with a nod. "Please get yourself to safety. If anything happens to you, Draco will—" she cuts off, shaking her head at the thought.
Her eyes widen when she realizes the familiar way she's used his name, but Narcissa doesn't look surprised, or upset—she just nods, that same understanding exuding from her face.
It kills her to leave him in the middle of such a volatile scene; to not be able to press a kiss to his forehead. Hermione can see it in the devastation she hides.
"I love you," Narcissa whispers to him, so softly Hermione wouldn't know if she couldn't see the woman's lips moving.
And then she's apparating away, and Hermione doesn't have time to question how she's managed to bypass the DoM enchantments because she's too busy levitating a shielded Draco behind her and trying to find Harry.
She makes it into the largest chamber yet, where all of her friends and the Death Eaters have now coalesced, mid battle.
Only now they're joined by the Order, and Hermione wants to sob with relief as they all arrive—Fred and George are here, and Fleur, and Cedric, and Sirius, and Kingsley, and McGonagall and Moody and—
(with each person that arrives her heart feels just a bit lighter.)
Ginny's hobbling, and based on the way she's holding a very swollen ankle Hermione would guess she's broken her fibula; Neville's nose is bleeding, but there are several incapacitated Death Eaters on the floor around him and he's gaining on the one he currently duels, so she assumes he's fine as well.
Sirius's laughter rings through the room—the kind of deep cackle that comes from the darkest parts of him, the sliver of Azkaban that sometimes leaks through, as he duels Bellatrix Lestrange, both appearing almost deranged as they fire both curses and verbal barbs back and forth.
Bellatrix is raising her wand as Sirius laughs, and Hermione feels her heart drop beneath her feet—
But before Bellatrix can open her mouth a red jet of sparks hits her in the back and she topples to the floor, McGonagall wearing a satisfied expression with her work. "Sirius Black, now is not the time to exercise vendettas."
Sirius winks, looking nonplussed as he begins taking out other Death Eaters from afar. "Sorry, Minnie—thanks for the save! Knew you still loved me."
Spells are still flying—the Order is strong, but the Death Eaters have called in reinforcements, and if she could just revive Draco it would help but it's all Hermione can do to try to disarm and stun and she can't take the time to cast an rennervate.
She finally has a heartbeat to breathe when she feels it again, that tingle down her spine—that bone deep knowing that something is so, very wrong.
But as much as she looks around her neither she nor Draco is in imminent danger; the Order has finally gotten the upper hand, and they're beginning to cut down Voldemort's numbers.
She takes the free second to rennervate him—as much as she'd known he was alive the whole time, the gasp of breath as he comes to calms the ache that's been present in her heart since he'd gone quiet.
She stands at the ready while he gets his bearings, eyes scanning the room for the source of the wrongness, the icy feeling in her heart—
And then she sees it.
Harry, so focused on the Death Eater he's dueling and the one standing behind them waiting to take over if his companion falls—
(he doesn't notice the wand pointed at his head from behind.)
"No," Hermione breathes, everything she holds dear flashing before her eyes.
She raises her wand just as the assailant does, launching a shield charm from across the chamber—it's not the strongest, not from so far, and not quick enough to wholly protect him—
(but it's enough—enough to keep him alive, if only barely.)
It keeps the hit from being fatal, though Harry falls to the ground—
And then she and Sirius are both sprinting across the room, slicing through anyone and everyone in their way with a fire like they haven't had through the entire battle, Remus and Ron right behind them and covering their backs.
Luna's yards away, the longing to be with him visible in her eyes, but someone needs to help finish the fight—
(and so she does, turning her back to Harry so she can best protect him, because what else is a soul mate for if not to defend you at your darkest?)
"Harry," she rasps as she kneels beside him, hitting the floor so hard she knows her knees will be bruised for weeks.
Sirius is right there with her, likewise kneeling on the brutal concrete, scooping Harry into his arms with all the tenderness in this world.
(His lithe seeker's build has never seemed so small.)
"We're here, pup. You're alright. We'll get you to Madam Pomfrey right away," Sirius promises, voice steady despite the worry Hermione can see in the tension of his shoulders.
"Mm—okay," Harry mumbles, eyelids fluttering. "You and Mia will stay with me, right, Dad?"
Hermione's heart leaps, and she can see it in Sirius's eyes—
(the bittersweet joy. desperation and love.)
He swallows heavily, holding back tears. "Of course, pup. We'll be right beside you till you wake up."
Across the chamber, Hermione hears Dumbledore's name called, and then Fudge, and within moments the Order has finished incapacitating every Death Eater in the room. There's a bunch of noise, and yelling and whispers weave in and out of each other—
(the Ministry has finally noticed what's going on, then.)
(she wonders if they'll still try to claim Harry's lying now.)
Hermione has just enough energy to notice the blond roots beginning to peek through Draco's hair from afar. "Polyjuice is wearing off," she whispers. "Draco has to—"
Sirius's eyebrows pull together as he turns his attention to her, concern filling his face at the sight of how pale she is. "Kitten—"
"Fine. Just—used too much magic shielding him." She blinks, gaze flickering in and out. "I think I might—"
(Remus is there to catch her when her world goes black.)
A/N: chapter title from first burn [Hamilton]
I rlly want to have remus call Umbridge a c*** but he drinks the respecting women juice so alas it would be too out of character
Also finished ballad of songbirds and snakes—I actually really enjoyed it?
Next chapter will be results/repercussions, end of year odds and ends, coming in the next couple days!
all my love to you all—as always, thank you for your comments and love for this story.