Chapter 51

Group 1 Disillusion and Apparate to top row

Hermione glanced down at her Galleon and then over at Ron nervously. He gave her a smile of encouragement. Having been in more missions and raids than he could count, he wasn't nervous at all. She was. Being part of Order leadership meant she seldom participated in fighting, despite the rigorous combat training. She knew too much. In this case, she and Tonks were both here, wanting to ensure the Order wasn't falling into a trap.

Aside from that, Wembley Stadium was huge, and they needed everyone to comb it.

Despite the severe reservations she, Tonks and Remus had about this operation, Kingsley was outvoted three to two on preventing the suspected terror attacks. The votes were always anonymous, so no one knew it was Hermione who had voted with Kingsley. She could tell, they all thought it was Tonks who had sided with him.

But Tonks knew it was Hermione and said nothing. If she was surprised or disappointed, she didn't reveal her feelings on the matter.

Hermione agreed with Kingsley's reasoning. A terror attack of this magnitude would destroy the Statute of Secrecy. It would cause the international wizarding communities to get involved in a conflict which had remained confined to Britain, which would lead to upending Voldemort's tenuous hold on the Ministry. On top of all that, Voldemort knew the Order captured MacNair and likely suspected they were privy to his focus on Brockton Bridge and Wembley Stadium.

The whole situation reeked of bait to draw the Order out for a purpose they hadn't been able to identify.

But the risk if an attack couldn't be prevented pushed Minerva, Remus and Tonks to walk into the fire regardless. 90,000 potential Muggle deaths. Hermione had never made such a hard decision in her life and agonized over her vote. In the end, she sided with Kingsley, and felt terrible about it. She was relieved they were outvoted, and felt sick to her stomach at her decision.

Tonks had a team of Polyjuiced Order members scoping out Wembley Stadium and Brockton Bridge every day since.

No traces of magic could be found. No Death Eaters. No suspicious activity.

However, not just half an hour ago, Brockton Bridge had been destroyed in seconds by a series of well-placed Bombarda Maximas, resulting in the deaths of hundreds of Muggles. Almost the entire Order was out patrolling Wembley Stadium now, which was in the process of being evacuated along with other crowded areas and government buildings.

As before, there were no sign of anti-Apparition wards. No sign of dark magic. No sign of magic, period, aside from scanning charms performed by the Order.

No sign of Death Eaters… so far.

She wondered where Draco was and what he was up to. Briefly she considered contacting him but worried that would get him in trouble, and left it up to him to contact her.

Wembley Stadium couldn't be destroyed as easily as a bridge. Hermione had thought it was a trap until Brockton Bridge was destroyed. Now she wasn't sure of anything, and her terror was mounting.

Hermione reappeared in the top row with a crack, still Disillusioned, scanning the stadium below her. It wasn't as chaotic as it could have been. The Muggles were evacuating according to whatever procedure the stadium had in place. However, Tonks had quickly figured out that with the tension and fear in the air, it wouldn't take much to cause a stampede. One or two Bombarda curses and that was it.

Hermione wondered if that was the plan. The noise in the stadium was deafening as people talked with each other, trying to figure out what was going on as they filed out. Hermione bit her lip, feeling anxious and waiting for something to happen. Hoping that nothing would.

Voldemort's army didn't need to destroy Wembley Stadium in order to wreak havoc and cause mass death and casualties. Not like with the bridge. And so far, everything they had done could be chalked up to Muggle terrorist groups. MACUSA and the other international wizarding communities wouldn't think twice about something as mundane as explosions being caused by Voldemort.

Hermione agreed with Kingsley. Lucius Malfoy hadn't killed the Americans providing financial support to the Order, which meant Voldemort didn't want MACUSA or any other countries to have an excuse for getting involved in Wizarding England's internal conflict. Even unrest in the Muggle world could look too coincidental if they weren't careful. There was no reason to blow up the bridge. No reason to… do whatever what was going to happen here at Wembley Stadium. And there was no reason for the Malfoys to pass the DIWM act.

And yet the act passed.

And yet Brockton Bridge was destroyed.

So what would happen to Wembley Stadium? Would anything even happen today? Or maybe at another time? And if not now, what could the Order do to prevent it? How could they possibly stop a stampede of 90,000 people?

Everyone felt morally obligated to be here.

But… something about the situation wasn't right.

Hermione scanned the evacuating Muggles. All the top and middle rows were empty. Sirens were blaring all over London's streets below. Her heart beat loudly in her chest as her fear mounted. Although the noise in the stadium was slowly receding, the sirens were making it hard for her to hear her own thoughts. Not that she knew what to do anyway.

Her Galleon warmed, jolting her out of her thoughts. Anxiously, she yanked the coin out of her trouser pocket.

Two Death Eaters spotted behind section HH

Her hair stood on the back of her neck. This was it. Voldemort's army was here. Something was happening. A stampede? Would they cause a stampede? No one knew. Bright letters flashed again, giving orders.

Spread out and comb in pairs. Top to bottom.

"Ready?" Harry's voice sounded next to her.

She turned to him and grabbed his hand. He squeezed it back in encouragement.

"Ready as I'll ever be," she replied with a tremor in her voice, but feeling somewhat more secure that she was paired with Harry. He was an excellent fighter, one of the best.

The Order wondered if this whole scenario was an elaborate set up to nab him. But even that seemed extreme.

Or was it?

Harry was the key to destroying Voldemort. She wondered if Voldemort suspected he was an accidental Horcrux as well.

She wished Draco would let her know what was happening.

If there was a fight, how would she know it was him behind the mask and robes? She remembered when he told her she almost killed him during the safe house raid. Hermione had no way of knowing and wished he would communicate with her.

They jogged down the stairs, casting Homenum Revelios when her Galleon warmed again.

DEs popping around, not fighting

What did that mean?

She shoved her Galleon back into her pocket when a Death Eater ran into their view. Her stomach lurched at the sudden appearance of the masked, hooded figure and she instinctively raised her wand. He hadn't noticed their Disillusioned forms yet, but Harry grabbed her arm before she could hex him.

Hermione glanced over in surprise and Harry shook his head silently. She wasn't sure what he was thinking, and her first thought was to prevent any harm from coming to him.

"This is weird," he whispered. "Wait and see what he does."

"Follow him?" she whispered back.

"Yeah."

The strangeness of the situation nearly made her ill, but she drew strength from Harry's confident presence. She wondered if she should call the whole operation off or wait a bit longer to see what the Death Eater was up to.

Harry and Hermione Silenced their feet and jogged after him for a few paces before he Disapparated with a crack. They skidded to a halt. This must be what was meant on the Galleon communication by 'popping around.'

But to what end? What was Voldemort planning? It wouldn't be difficult to cause a stampede; a few explosions should be enough. One even.

What was the point of Apparating around the stadium? Hermione couldn't make sense of it and her chest constricted with the weight of decision. Call off the operation or not? She wondered what Tonks was thinking.

Another crack down the hallway made them jump, and she gasped loudly in shock, whirling around with Harry. A different Death Eater, of shorter stature, popped into view and saw the diffracted panes of their outlines. Reflexively, they cast Shield charms but instead of hexing them, he cast a Finite, revealing their identities.

Harry flicked a Stunner in his direction, but he Disapparated.

What?

Hermione's heart thundered in her chest. She had no idea what to make of the strange interaction. So they weren't interested in Harry? Or were they? Should she cancel the operation or wait to see what happens?

The blood rushed in her ears. She didn't know. She didn't understand what was going on and she hated making decisions without enough information. If she called the operation off and was wrong, the Muggles still here in the stadium could die. That's probably why Tonks hadn't told them to abort either.

None of this made sense.

She cleared her throat, trying to quell her nerves. They needed more information.

"I don't understand what's going on, but they know where you are now," she forced out, her voice trembling. "Let's Apparate to another part of the stadium where we can see what's going on."

Whatever the plan was, it would not result in Harry getting taken. Over her dead body.

"Alright," Harry agreed, and rubbed her back encouragingly. How was he not nervous?

They recast the Disillusionment Charms and she Apparated them to the middle of the athletic field.

"We're sitting ducks here, Hermione," Harry commented, watching the Muggles file out around them. She surveyed the bleachers, craning her neck and spinning around in a full circle. The Muggles had nearly finished evacuating the crowds. It was only first responders here now.

She furrowed her brows in confusion. No stampede. Voldemort's army hadn't attacked anyone or made any attempt to take Harry. What was going on? The pressure in her chest increased and she struggled to breathe in all the way.

"You're right." Her voice was still shaking. She needed to calm herself down, she needed time to think.

Hermione Apparated them to the ladies' room on the ground floor where a cacophony of voices echoed loudly from the hallways as everyone filed towards the exit.

Harry glanced around appreciatively. "This is so much cleaner than the loo for blokes."

How could he make jokes at a time like this? Maybe this was how he dealt with pressure. They were still waiting, hadn't even engaged in any combat yet. She almost preferred to be in the middle of hexing Death Eaters.

The waiting and fear of the unknown was absolute agony.

Hermione rubbed her temples. "I don't understand what's going on. Nothing happened. The bridge was destroyed. They're here, we can Apparate, but nothing happened. That Death Eater saw you, but he didn't even attack."

"Take it easy, Hermione. Nothing's happened yet," he offered with a crooked grin. "As you said."

"That we know of," she corrected, completely unaffected by his reassurance.

"We can leave at any time," Harry replied, trying to console her. He leaned against the sink and crossed his arms. "The Muggles are almost out. If You-Know-Who wanted to cause a stampede, he lost his window. Honestly, that was the only thing I was worried about. Maybe we should call it off."

They stared at each other in thought, trying to piece together what was happening.

"The only other reason for the operation that we thought of was to draw the Order out in an attempt to nab you."

Harry nodded in agreement. "Yeah, I thought that as well."

How could he be so cavalier about it?

"And they drew us out," she insisted, still anxious and worried. "They succeeded. But they saw you and didn't even attack."

Harry ran his hand through his hair and gazed back at her in thought. "I feel like we're playing hide and seek. You can't hit anyone if they're Apparating away."

Just then they heard someone yelling a hex followed by an explosion. The two jumped and glanced at each other. Hermione gripped her wand tightly.

"They're attacking now," Harry commented, his eyes straying towards the door to the loo.

"After the Muggles evacuated?"

He shrugged and twirled his wand, equally as puzzled as she was.

"Ready?" he raised his eyebrows, studying her face.

"Yes, of course," her words came out in a rush. "I'm sorry, Harry. I can't help but be nervous."

His mouth lifted in a reassuring, half grin. "I've seen you fight, you do well under pressure. And I've got your back."

And I've got yours, she thought, and smiled gratefully up at him.

She took a steadying breath and the two ran out of the loo. Almost immediately flashes of light flew over their heads and they ducked. Alicia Spinnet came charging down the hallway, separated from her partner, and skidded to a halt next to them.

Hermione's stomach lurched as three Death Eaters ran behind, hot on her trail. She hardly had time to raise her wand before one of them fired a curse at Harry. She pushed him out of the way just as the tall Death Eater in the center hexed his own comrade, blasting him into the wall.

The hex nicked Harry's arm instead of his chest and he fell to the ground. Utterly stunned at what she just witnessed, Hermione tore her glance from Harry's bleeding arm back at the Death Eater.

Draco.

A surge of relief at seeing him, unharmed, swept through her as a smaller Death Eater next to him swiveled around in surprise. Hermione went to run to Harry, but Alicia was about to hex Draco. She clamped her hand down on Alicia's arm and angled it away before she could cast anything.

"No," she said, shaking her head desperately, heart still racing in her chest.

"But…"

Alicia stared back, eyes wide in alarm and then turned to Draco, who was talking with the smaller Death Eater, gesticulating wildly. Hermione wondered why he didn't just curse him like he did the other, but the smaller Death Eater wasn't fighting.

Hermione looked down to where Harry was groaning, rolling on the floor. He was bleeding out of his wand arm and had hit his head with the blast of the curse. She and Alicia ran over to him. He was in pain and didn't seem very lucid, but his physical injuries didn't look so bad. Nothing the Healers couldn't treat.

"Alicia, you have to get Harry back to Ravenclaw Tower now." She motioned to the Death Eater knocked out on the floor. "If you're able, come back here and take that one to Pinner. You can't tell anyone about what you just saw. Okay?"

Alicia stared at Draco Confounding the smaller Death Eater next to him and then to Harry.

"Okay," she nodded, jaw slack in disbelief.

Hermione trusted her not to say anything, but she'd Obliviate her later anyway.

Hermione leaned over Harry and cupped his face. "You alright?"

He squinted up at her while she did her best to close the wound to prevent further damage from Apparition. Harry would be okay, it appeared to be a standard laceration.

"Hermione?" he croaked.

Her shoulders sagged in relief. Harry didn't know what had happened. He wouldn't need to be Obliviated or Confounded. She glanced back at Draco to see him incapacitate the smaller Death Eater and carefully heft him over his shoulders. It must be one of his friends.

The Death Eater was petite. Like Hermione.

Pansy.

Alicia squatted down next to her and tore open Harry's sleeve to survey the semi-healed laceration on his arm better. "I'll get him to Ravenclaw Tower safely."

Nervously, she glanced back at Draco who stood glowering down at them through his mask; tall, dark and ominous in the corridor. "Be careful, Hermione."

Hermione nodded at her, kissed her palm and laid it atop Harry's forehead. "I'll be back soon."

He groaned in response and Alicia Disapparated the two of them.

She stood up and turned around to see Draco stalking towards her with Pansy thrown over his shoulder, black robes billowing behind him.

"What are you–"

He clamped her upper arm with his gloved hand and they Disapparated, reappearing in the announcers' box. She stumbled from the sudden Side-Along and he righted her up, looming over her.

"You all have to leave." He glared down at her through his mask.

"What? Why?"

He flicked his wand and noxxed the lights so the room was only illuminated from the outside. "I don't know what the fuck is going on. I can't… I can't remember. I wanted to tell you, but I can't remember. You shouldn't have come."

"Wait, Draco. What–"

He was getting agitated. "I don't know. We were told to look for…" he shifted Pansy's weight on his shoulder. "I asked Pansy and when she tried to tell me she couldn't remember either. I think I just fucked her over." His voice rose in increasing desperation. "And myself, if anyone finds out we were talking about it. We were told to only attack the Order once the Muggles left, so there wouldn't be a stampede."

Draco craned his neck, looking out through the window towards the stadium to see if anyone could see them and pushed Hermione into a darkened corner. The announcer's box was isolated, probably the best place to meet outside of the loo, but he was right to be prudent.

"That makes even less sense than–"

"Of course it doesn't make sense." Hermione could hear him getting even more worked up, and he tightened his grip on her arm. "Just leave." He set Pansy down gently in one of the announcer's chairs and reared on Hermione. "How are you communicating with them? Those sodding Galleons?"

"Yes, but–"

He wouldn't let her finish her sentence, instead reached around her to dig in her back jeans pocket. He knocked her off balance and she grabbed the folds of his robes to right herself. His fingers were rough as they searched, and she winced.

"Draco, stop manhandling me! I can–" They heard more yelling and another explosion. She jumped and he spun her around. She braced herself against the wall while he dug in her other back pocket, pulling out the Galleon.

"No! That's the one I use with you." He growled in frustration and shoved it back in her pocket. He spun her back around trying to dig his fingers into her front pockets. "Will you just wait–"

"Hermione, you need to tell them to leave," his voice rose in desperation. "We came for something. I can't remember what it was. We expected… we... Fuck!"

He swore when he came out with nothing and started digging in her other front pocket.

"Alright! But can you just–"

He pulled the Galleon out of her front pocket.

"Stop it!" She tried to grab the Galleon back from him, but he held it out of her reach. "It won't work with your gloves!"

With another growl he tore off his glove and tossed it to the floor while she watched him stare down at the coin.

He turned back to her and smacked it into her hand. She jumped. The masks were terrifying even though she knew it was Draco behind it.

Hermione glanced down at the coin. He hadn't communicated anything.

"I can't fucking remember what I wanted to say." His voice rose in urgency.

"That it's a trap?" she whispered, horrified for him, and the Order.

What did Voldemort do to them all? He messed with their bodies to ensure loyalty and he messed with their minds to ensure secrecy.

He stared down at her. "Is that what I said?"

"You're sure?" she asked, voice trembling.

He threw his hand out towards the stadium. "Do you have another explanation for this insanity?"

"No." Hermione thumbed her Galleon.

It's a trap. Abort now.

Blunt.

"It's fucking hide and seek. We were looking for something and the minute Pansy and I try to talk about it we can't remember what it was we were looking for."

He stared down at her, breathing heavily. They heard a few cracks of Apparition echoing down the hallway, some more yelling and explosions.

He bent over to pick his glove off the floor and tugged it on with a grunt before turning back to Pansy.

"Wait!"

He stilled, she didn't understand what was happening or what had been done to him, and needed to kiss him before he left. She reached up and pulled his mask off, removing his hood as well.

Draco's eyes were dangerous. That dark grey again. It wasn't the effect of poor lighting in the bathroom, or because of starlight coming through the guest room window at night. They were uncharacteristically dark. She could see the different shade clearly with the daylight coming in from the window of the announcer's box.

What was happening to him? She hoped they could speak later tonight.

They were both scared that they didn't understand what was going on and frightened at how Voldemort had messed with his mind.

At least the Order was leaving.

She dropped his mask to the floor and cupped his cheeks, pulling his face down towards hers.

Instantly, Draco wrapped his arms around her and crushed her body to his. His robe enveloped her, and his breath was ragged as he panted into her mouth. She felt completely encased by him as he kissed her: wanting, needy and desperate. His lips moved over hers, over her jaw, her cheek, her neck and back to her mouth again. His hands dug into her arse, her back and her shoulder.

It was a harsh and bruising kiss to the sounds of yelling and the cracks of Apparition echoing throughout the stadium. He released a frustrated moan before pulling away and pressing his forehead to hers. Slowly, he opened his eyes.

Dark grey. Not Draco's color at all. And there was something sinister in the way he looked at her.

"Draco?" Her voice was soft in her caution.

He inhaled, shuddering slightly, and slid his hand from her shoulder to the crook of her neck. The leather from his glove was cool against her skin.

"You should go," he whispered. "Make sure the Chosen One can still win this war."

His thumb caressed the hollow of her throat and his fingers pressed into her rear. She stroked his cheek and jaw with her fingers and tilted her head up slightly for a close-mouthed kiss when he suddenly cried out in pain.

"What's wr–"

He stumbled backwards, clutching his forearm.

"It might be too late," he ground out. "I don't know if I'm being summoned because you're all leaving or because we got what we came for."

"But what–" she began, eying him warily as she picked his mask up off the ground.

He was already hefting Pansy over his shoulder, careful not to jostle her. "I'll let you know if I learn anything."

Hermione held out his mask. "I love you."

Draco glanced down at the evil visage carved out in shimmering metal and then shifted his dark eyed gaze back to her. "I know."

She watched while he donned his mask and hood. A tug of despair wrenched in her gut as he turned to her, a faceless Death Eater. Draco backed a wary step away and she couldn't help feeling like she as losing him.

Roughly, he shoved the sleeve of his robe up, exposing his Dark Mark, and pressed his wand into his flesh, Disapparating away from her.

And back to them.

oooooooooooooo

Hermione Apparated to the entrance of Ravenclaw Tower in Dorchester to see how Harry was holding up and was startled from the yelling. Instantly worried, she opened the door to see half the Weasleys speaking at once in the waiting room. Molly and Ginny were in tears, holding each other.

"Hermione!" Ron turned to her. "Where have you been?"

She flushed, not wanting to explain. "I just–"

"Harry's hurt!"

"I know, in his arm. I told Alicia to take him back–"

"No," Ron gripped her arms tightly. "He's really hurt! And he's not the only one! Justin, Lavender, Penelope, George–"

She wrenched her way out of his grip and tried to push past everyone in the waiting room to enter the infirmary itself.

"Wait!" Ron called back. "You can't–"

She burst through the door to see Mary, Cho and Terry rushing back and forth between eight bodies with glowing lights above each one. The three of them were casting charms and administering potions with a controlled urgency Hermione had never seen before. Every so often Cho or Terry would look back to Mary for instruction and she would direct them without pausing what she was doing. Vials of potions were suspended in the air above them and would frequently whiz through the air, when summoned.

Hermione scanned the beds, saw Harry on the far left and strode over to him. To her horror, the bandages covering his arm were bright red and whatever wound he had sustained seemed to be coming from his chest as well.

Cho immediately appeared at her side. "Hermione, you can't be here."

"Cho!" she pointed to Harry's chest. The monitoring charm signaled internal bleeding as well. "He's bleeding out! You have to–"

Cho gripped her arm. "We are. We are treating him. Let us work. You have to leave."

Hermione saw Mary out of the corner of her eye removing something blue from Lavender's chest while Justin watched impassively from the cot next to her, cradling his hand.

"Out. Now, Hermione," Mary ordered her while siphoning the dark blue mass into a pail and then vanishing it. Lavender shrieked and Mary flicked her wand, summoning a pain relief potion from the cabinet.

Terry eyed Hermione nervously while leaning over Penelope. Mary pointed at the monitor blinking next to him. "Her blood pressure is too high. Salt removal 30%." He nodded and cast a charm while Penelope groaned in pain. Mary pulled three vials out of the air and walked over to Padma. "George's skin growth spell," she called back to Terry without breaking stride. "It's not covering his thigh properly."

Hermione shrugged herself out of Cho's grip and leaned over Harry, brushing his hair back. He was so pale. He looked almost grey, near death. "But he's dying! Cho you have to–"

"Ron," Cho turned to him, her voice rising. "Please get her out."

Ron pulled on her arm, wiping tears away. "Hermione, come on. We're not helping."

She stared down at Harry's grey face and the widening red on the bandage while Cho waved her wand over his chest. He was dying right in front of her. Didn't they see?

Tears streamed out of her eyes. "But he's–"

She struggled while Ron tried to gently pull her towards the door when the two of them were suddenly propelled outwards.

"But he's losing so much blood!" she cried out, now from the waiting room.

"We can't save him if you interfere," Mary's cold eyes met hers. "Get away from my Healer."

Mary flicked her wand and the door slammed shut on her face. Hermione burst into tears, pressed her back to the door and sank down to the ground. Ron sat down next to her and held her while she cried.

Chapter end notes:

I hope everyone has realized by now that Mary is one of the surprise BAMFs in this story, even though she's not very likeable. Shout out to all the healthcare workers working overtime and understaffed over the course of the pandemic. Especially during that terrifying period in the beginning where they didn't have enough PPE. They also put up with unending piles of crap from the very people they were trying to help. I can't imagine how terrifying it all must have been.

Also, yes. The 'I love you' 'I know' is a reference to Han Solo being frozen in carbonite, if any of you were wondering.