The last week of Christmas hols went by quickly, and without incident. Hermione was sitting in the library with Regulus and Narcissa - their last day of free friendship. The golden mid-afternoon light lit on the various books and papers Hermione and Regulus had scattered about.

"What do you think of this one?" Narcissa asked, dropping a drawing onto the book Hermione was trying to read.

Hermione hid a smile. "Drawing again?"

"Obviously."

Hermione's internal smile grew, and she looked over the drawing. It was a beautiful set of dress robes, and Hermione felt her heart skip a beat. "You're designing your own robes for your wedding?"

Narcissa straightened primly. "As a Black, about to be a Malfoy, it's within my rights to have precisely the dress I most desire."

A tiny bubble of joy grew inside Hermione's chest. "You're going to let people know that you can design clothing? You're going to let them know what you can do?"

Narcissa hesitated. "Yes. I think so. I mean—"

Hermione reached out and took her hand. "One step at a time then." She looked back down at the drawing. "It's so beautiful Narcissa. Elegant, but still with, you know, actual personality. What do you think?"

"I think your taste in fashion is appalling and your opinion is worthless," she said. "But you're right nonetheless. It's good. But not perfect yet."

Hermione rolled her eyes. She realized that this was Narcissa's way of distracting herself from Lucius being a Death Eater. Hermione cast Lily's spell that created a 3D hologram of Narcissa's drawing. Narcissa inhaled sharply as Hermione turned the dress this way and that. "What are you thinking of changing?"

Narcissa smiled faintly and immediately dove into an explanation of all the minute alterations she was considering - a dizzying array of things Hermione couldn't begin to visualize or follow. When she was done, she stood, happiness and passion emanating from her entire being. "I'm going to go sketch some of this out. Maybe I'll owl you a secret copy later this week."

They weren't going to stop being friends, and it filled her heart. "I'd love that."

Narcissa offered her a rare smile, and then practically skipped away, her sketchbook held to her chest.

"You're good for her," Regulus observed quietly.

Hermione frowned ever so slightly. "I hope so. I hope I'm not making things worse for her. Harder."

"You got her drawing again," Regulus pointed out. "I've been trying for weeks. She's been miserable and lost and not at all herself. Less than two weeks with you around, and suddenly she's Narcissa again."

"A girl needs friends," Hermione said. She shut the book she'd been trying to read earlier. "Well, I should get going too. My room is a mess of books and papers the girls will not want to come back to. And the boys want to sneak out and set off some fireworks for New Years Eve tonight so—"

"No. You can't. I… I have to tell you something."

Hermione paused in tidying her things and jerked her gaze up to Regulus. He was looking down at the book in his lap. When he finally forced his gaze up to her, she saw his entire being completely clear of emotion. Still, Hermione waited. Waited for him to say whatever it was that he needed to say.

"There's going to be an attack tonight."

The words came reluctantly, as if he had to force them out with all his being, and yet still, there was no emotion. Hermione realized he was keeping it away so the memory would be easier to Occlude later. To keep him safe. Safer.

For a moment, her own emotions swirled out of control. Regulus is betraying Voldemort. And for a moment, she couldn't even breathe. This is betrayal. This is Regulus choosing a new side. This is… dangerous. This is brave.

Hermione realized she was staring at him, wide-eyed, and the barest flicker across his lips told her that he'd be amused, if it were safe to feel emotion in the moment.

She wanted to hug him. To promise him she would keep him safe. To cry… sadness and relief and fear all at once. But instead she put all her emotions carefully aside. Just another day. Just another battle.

"Where?"

"Trafalgar Square. Just before midnight."

"Naturally." Only Tom bloody Riddle would celebrate his birthday with mass murder. She looked Regulus in the eye as impassively as she could. "Thank you. We'll be there."

He nodded and returned to his book, but Hermione could see the speed of his heartbeat in the slight flush at his throat. A part of her was afraid to leave him. As if Voldemort might somehow instinctively know he'd been betrayed. As if he might show up in a cloud of smoke and Avada Regulus right here, in the library. She swallowed all her fears down. Just another day. Just another battle. She grabbed her things and headed straight for the Headmaster's office.

Albus was sitting at his desk with his typical mild expression on his face, but Hermione knew him well enough now to see the flicker of curiosity burning in his eyes.

"Hermione, how wonderful to see you. Have you had a nice holiday?"

Hermione forced herself to stay calm. She stood before his desk like a soldier reporting to her general. She pushed aside the sense of urgency for a moment and let her thoughts stray over the last two weeks. Rekindling her friendship with Regulus and Narcissa, spending time with Sirius and James… with Remus. She nearly flushed at the memory.

"Yes," she smiled, "it's been wonderful. I'm looking forward to having the girls back though." She banished the reminiscence. "I'm afraid I'm not here on a social call, Albus. I have reason to believe there will be an attack tonight. At Trafalgar Square. Just before midnight."

"Trafalgar!" one of the portraits exclaimed.

"That'll be a right massacre," another muttered.

Hermione cast a charm to obscure the portraits' ability to listen in. (She did this often, and they really weren't very fond of her for it.)

Albus' polite expression had dissolved. His eyebrows flew high, and she watched as his breath caught in his throat for only the briefest of instants. "Reason to believe?" he asked lightly, regaining his composure.

Hermione's gaze met his. Should she tell him? Was it hers to share?

"Does this information come from the same mysterious source as the counter-spell to Sectumsempra?" he asked, though his tone said he already knew the answer.

Hermione shook her head.

Albus smiled warmly. "Your loyalty to Regulus is admirable, Hermione. As is his courage. Will he require protection moving forward?"

Hermione almost laughed. Of course he knew. He always knew. "I don't know," she answered honestly. "I don't think he plans to leave. Not yet at least."

Albus nodded thoughtfully. "One brave deed at a time, then." He drew his pocket watch. "It's just after 6 o'clock," he said thoughtfully, but Hermione could see the tension in his frame. "We must alert the Order of course." He swished his wand and several phoenix Patronuses appeared. "Emergency meeting in one hour," he said, then deployed them - one to each team leader.

"You were one short," Hermione observed.

"Yes, we shall go speak to Alastor directly. Come along."

Hermione nodded and cast a quick Patronus to the boys as Albus strode to the Floo. "British Ministry of Magic!" he called, throwing the powder in. He gestured toward Hermione. "After you, my dear."

Hermione wiggled her toes in her fancy new battle boots, double-checked that her new spare wand (which, for the record, she did not yet love) was securely present, rolled her shoulders in her new combat jacket from the twins, and then stepped into the godawful fireplace.

She stumbled out into the bright and busy Ministry atrium and scowled up at the hideous fountain, reminiscing fondly of that time Voldemort and Albus smashed it to smithereens. Then Albus stepped out behind her.

"This way," he said brusquely, and off he went through the virtually empty after-hours halls.

The Aurors' offices were down on Basement Level Two. Hermione eyed the two lone missives floating around them in the elevator.

"That seems like a severely indiscreet way of sending information, come to think of it," she mused.

Albus raised an eyebrow and smiled. "Indeed."

And then they were there. The doors opened, and one of the missives flew out ahead of them as they stepped into the corridor.

Hermione's gaze swept back and forth as they strode past disorganized desk after disorganized desk toward a closed office at the back. One or two were occupied, but the rest of the Aurors appeared to have gone home for the evening. "Does… every Auror have his or her own desk?" she asked tentatively.

Albus nodded gravely. "I'm afraid so."

"But… there can't be more than 50!" she protested. There was a beat of silence as she waited for him to assure her that there were, in fact, quite a few more in some other section of the floor. "Bloody hell." She recalled their losses at the Embassy. "Fuck." Her gaze darted to the Headmaster. "Sorry!"

Albus chuckled. "I assure you, it's nothing my old sensibilities haven't heard before, Hermione." He stopped and rapped politely on the door at the end of the corridor.

"I've no time, Jenkins! Bugger off!"

"I'm afraid it's me, Alastor," Albus said cheerfully.

"Oh, bollocks!" Moody grunted. The door swung open. "What the bloody hell has gone wrong now?"

Hermione and Albus stepped into the office and shut the door behind them. "Hey, Alastor," Hermione said. "Er… happy Christmas?"

"Like hell it is. What doomsday intel are you two bringing me?"

Hermione braced herself for the telling, but Albus spoke instead. "It would seem that Voldemort plans to attack Trafalgar Square just before midnight this evening."

Alastor's gaze narrowed. "And where does this information come from?"

Hermione's heart jumped into her throat as it occurred to her, for the first time, that this could all be a setup. That Regulus could have been lying. It could be a trap or a decoy. I'm so Gryffindor it's maddening! She thought, cursing up and down in her mind.

"I believe the source to be reliable," was all Albus said.

Alastor scowled. "Let me get this straight. You want me to summon and mobilize the entire Auror Department on an anonymous tip?"

"Do you have an alternate suggestion?" Albus said.

Alastor's scowl deepened. "Bloody fucking hell!" He glared at the stack of papers on his desk, but somehow, they didn't catch fire. "Alright. Fine," he said finally. "We'll be there."

"Excellent!" Albus said with a cheery smile. "See you soon!"

He turned and strode from the room, but Hermione hesitated. "What if it's a ruse?" she asked quietly.

Alastor sighed and straightened his robes as he stood. "Then we bloody well hope their real target isn't the Ministry, and we react the best we can."

A chill ran through her, but she shrugged it off, her mind rushing over what she knew to be true. "If he is attacking Trafalgar, it's to get bodies. To build his inferi army. If we follow that idea logically, the inferi army would be for an attack on the Ministry. If we can stop him here… he's just going to keep trying. The Ministry must be his ultimate goal."

Alastor eyed her pensively. "What if he's already got all the inferi he needs or wants? What if he's not building an inferi army at all? What if he just takes bodies for the fun of it?"

Hermione shuddered at the thought of what Voldemort might find fun about innocent people and corpses. "I don't know," she whispered.

Alastor gripped her shoulder. "Me neither, Belanger. Now get out of here. The Order needs to be mustered. Albus is right. We have to take this threat seriously, regardless of how it might pan out."

Hermione smiled tightly at him, realizing that he wasn't going to be their leader in this fight either. Would Emmeline still step up to the plate after the Embassy? She shook the thoughts away. "See you out there," she said. Then she turned and followed Albus through the Ministry.

The Order members had the same concerns. Where did the information come from? Was it certain? Could the source be trusted? What if it was a trick?

"I assure you that I believe the information to be legitimate," Albus said. "While I am not at liberty to name my source at this time, and I certainly cannot say that this person is entirely trustworthy, I think it is essential that we act, regardless."

"There isn't time for this anyway," Gideon pointed out. "We can't ignore this and leave the Muggles to be killed off in droves. So we'd better get on with it, aye?"

It was 7:30. Hermione felt that same tension in her body as she'd felt at the Embassy. Time seemed to stretch and shrink around her. In one instant, midnight seemed terrifyingly close. In the next, it seemed lightyears away. She leaned over to Emmeline. "I don't know whether to be terrified, or bored."

Emmeline snorted into her tea.

The talking went on for a long time. Tactics. Possible scenarios. Strategies.

At 8:30, Alastor's fox swept into the room. "The Muggle Ministry has been notified. I'm here at Trafalgar, which is being roped off for a supposed gas leak. Muggles are furious. We're casting Muggle repelling charms in a moment. The full Auror force will be present at 11:30."

"Great. Only three-and-a-half hours to go," Gideon grumbled, dropping his head into his arms on the table.

Moments later, food appeared, and everyone was temporarily appeased, their nervous energy redirected as they dug into the house elves' delicious fare. Hermione picked at her food to avoid anyone's worried glance, but she could barely eat. Any minute now, Regulus could be apparating to Voldemort's location. Any minute now, Voldemort could discover his treachery. Any minute now, Regulus could die.

Fabian glanced over at her. "I'm sure he'll be fine, Mione," he said in a low voice. "If he couldn't keep himself safe, he wouldn't go."

Hermione's gaze flew to the redhead's, her eyes wide.

He chuckled. "I'm an Auror, remember? Gideon and me had bets on whether your boy would crack and turn spy for you." He grinned. "Gideon owes me 5 sickles."

Hermione stared at him for a moment, and then she started laughing. She laughed so hard, and so long, that tears were streaming down her face, and she couldn't breathe. "Oh Merlin!" she gasped, as her laughter died down. "I needed that."

She pulled herself back together, lapsing into thought, as she mindlessly sipped her tea. Not for the first time, it struck her how weird it really was to be part of an illegal militia. In the future, everyone had acted like it was perfectly normal - perhaps because they were just falling back into an old habit. Or maybe just because the Order had never really felt like an army before.

But today, as Hermione looked around the room at the soldiers - not members - of the Order, the reality of it was inescapable.

And while Alastor had referred to them as "secret operatives" during the Embassy attack, and implied that they were from each Embassy's respective nation, that wouldn't be the case tonight. Tonight the Order would have to emerge from secrecy… And Hermione wasn't exactly sure what the implications of that would be.

Thank goodness for Lily and her Obscurus charm, Hermione thought. (A charm she hoped to Merlin would never become public knowledge.)

The food on the tables disappeared then, jerking Hermione from her thoughts. Somehow, it was nearly 10:30.

"Alright, team," Emmeline said with all the confidence she could muster. "Let's go."

Hermione's team slipped out the back door of Headquarters (which Hermione thought must be Albus and Aberforth's childhood home) and to the secluded apparition point at the far edge of the backyard. They each obscured their faces, then Emmeline pulled the illegal portkey from her pocket - a small scrap of paper with a distasteful limerick written on it - and the four of them each gripped a corner.

As the clock reached 10:30, the transportation magic kicked in, pulling sharply at Hermione's stomach, tugging her sickeningly through space, and then spitting them all out in a shadowed corner of Trafalgar Square.

Alastor was waiting for them. "Next team will arrive in 7 minutes," Emmeline said.

Alastor nodded. "Muggle-repelling charms are set around the perimeter, and Muggle Ministry officials and law enforcement are all cleared out. All that's left to do now is wait."

"Excellent!" Gideon said, clapping his hands together. "I've got a good feeling about this whole 'we have no bloody clue what's coming' thing."

"At least it's not a full moon," Hermione pointed out. "We can probably rule out werewolves - and Inferi."

Fabian snorted. "Well, I know I'm feeling better now," he said sarcastically, "How about you, brother?"

Gideon grinned. "Aye, much obliged, Mione."

Hermione and Emmeline rolled their eyes.

"When is this party starting, exactly? Do we at least know that?" Gideon asked.

Alastor shrugged noncommittally.

"We can't know for sure," Hermione said. "But our source said just before midnight. Knowing Voldemort, he'll want to go for optimal drama factor."

"So then why not right at midnight?" Emmeline asked. "Interrupt all the kisses and joy and hope and whatnot with death and mayhem?"

"Because," Hermione said, "Tonight is his birthday. You say 'party' ironically, but that's exactly what this is supposed to be. A big smashing party. With hundreds of corpses to unwrap."

There was a moment of silence while everyone wrestled with the ugliness of her words.

"I keep forgetting he's just a man, you know?" Fabian said. "It seems so weird that he might have a birthday, just like anyone else."

"Sure," Emmeline said dryly. "I celebrated just like this last year."

Gideon choked out a laugh, but Hermione was frowning. "You're right," she said. "We go around entertaining his fancy of Godhood by calling him Voldemort or He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named or the Dark Lord, or whatever else—"

"Well, what else would we call him?" Emmeline pointed out.

Gideon, however, was fully into the opportunity of the moment. "Oooh," he said, "Something irreverent, you mean? What about… Voldy?"

"Moldy Voldy!" Fabian added, grinning like a four year old who'd just called someone a "poophead".

Alastor snorted through a disapproving scowl, and Hermione, picturing the look on Regulus' face if he could hear this conversation, burst into laughter. "I think I'll stick with Tom Riddle," she said, laughter still in her voice. "But please feel free to call him 'Moldy Voldy'. It'll make my day."

"As long as he doesn't hear you and Avada you on the spot," Emmeline added.

Hermione grinned. "Yeah, that'd probably put a bit of a damper on the moment."

Alastor was looking at them as though he couldn't decide whether to be amused, or annoyed. Hermione smirked up at him. "Auror Moody, I present to you, the saviours of Muggle and Wizarding England!" she said wryly.

Alastor sighed and rubbed his face, but a trickle of amusement could be found there, if you looked as hard as Hermione did.

"Where do you want us?" Emmeline asked him.

Alastor pointed toward the fountain at the center of the square. "We're assuming they're going to apparate into the square in a scattered pattern, so that they can cause optimal amounts of chaos as quickly as possible. We're setting out most of the teams around the perimeter, but your team, and my best Aurors will be centered around the fountain, central to the fight."

Emmeline nodded. "Are we under your command then?" she asked hopefully.

Alastor smiled wryly. "Not today, lass."

"Albus wants you to distance yourself from us," Hermione said, more than asked.

"Aye. We don't know what the fallout of the Order coming into the open might be. Best if I can pretend you lot just showed up and I had nothing to do with it."

"That's going to be a difficult line to sell," Emmeline pointed out, concern creasing her brow.

Alastor nodded. "Better to try to walk it than to end up in Azkaban for breaking my oaths and aiding vigilantes. We'll pretend I've tried to send you away, but don't have time to do it properly."

"So we're hiding in the shadows till the rest of the Order is here?" Fabian asked.

"Aye. Once everyone's arrived, come find me and we'll argue a while."

"Business as usual," Gideon grinned.

Alastor rolled his eyes. "Keep quiet," he ordered. Then he strode away back to the fountain.

Time ticked by as the rest of the Order—aside from Albus who would be babysitting the Ministry in case Tom showed up there instead—portkeyed into the square. By the time they were all there, it was fifteen minutes to midnight.

"Well, I guess it's time," Emmeline said.

Gideon leapt to his feet from where he was sitting in the shadows, a smile on his face and a bounce in his step, and led the way toward the fountain, where Alastor was giving last minute instructions to the Aurors.

"Who the bloody hell are you?" Alastor growled, raising his wand threateningly.

"Concerned citizens," Gideon said smoothly. "We're here to fight."

"And we won't take no for an answer," Fabian added, his voice uncharacteristically dark and serious.

Hermione swallowed a smile.

"Like hell you won't," Alastor snarled. "Clear out now, or—"

"Or what?" Fabian challenged. "Seems to me you've got your hands full here. Old Moldy Shorts—" Hermione coughed to cover her snort of laughter. Several of the nearby Aurors did the same. "—is about to attack at any moment. I guess I figure you could use the extra wands."

Alastor scowled. "The Department of Magical Law Enforcement does not entertain vigilantes and their half-baked schemes."

An Auror stepped forward and muttered something into Alastor's ear. Hermione assumed it was the time. Alastor cursed, then winked in the Order's direction. "We don't have time for this idiocy. I strongly advise all of you to clear the hell out, but if you choose to stay, despite the illegality of your actions, I will deal with whoever of you is left when all this is over," he said coldly. Then he turned and strode away.

Gideon and Fabian high-fived. Hermione suspected they were grinning, but it was hard to tell with Lily's spell obscuring their features.

"Old Moldy Shorts!" Gideon crowed. "Bloody brilliant!" The rest of the Order members, and some nearby Aurors outright laughed. Hermione could tell this was something that was going to stick. And she couldn't decide whether she should be fiercely pleased, or incredibly concerned by it.

"Alright you lot," Emmeline said in a low, but commanding voice. "Everyone but my team is heading to the perimeter. Keep your eyes sharp, and don't turn your back. The advantage of the position is that you should never have a Death Eater sneaking up behind you. Everyone fall out."

The other team leaders nodded their acknowledgment and lead their teams out to the edges of the square. Hermione, Emmeline, and the twins, stayed right where they were, the Aurors' curious gazes on them.

Hermione checked the time. "11:55," she muttered. "Any minute now."

"If they posted any kind of lookout, they'll know we're here," Emmeline noted. "Maybe they've already seen us and ducked out."

Hermione thought that over, then shook her head. "It's possible. But I think Alastor would have noticed a Death Eater lurking around, or the crack of apparition."

"Besides," Fabian added. "We're all wrapped up like the world's greatest birthday present—"

"Assuming you're a murderous psychopath," Gideon inserted.

"—No way he could pass that up, right?"

Emmeline nodded slowly. "That's true. They still have strength in numbers. If they knew we were here, they could still grab the element of surprise in any number of ways. The entire Auror division, plus the Order… all in one place…"

"It's not a trap," Hermione said firmly, trying to convince herself as much as them.

Her teammates looked at each other nervously for a half a second, and then Gideon's bravado was back. "We faced them all before," he pointed out. "We had no idea what was coming our way, and we did it. We made it."

Fabian nodded slowly. "Whatever he throws at us, we're ready."

Emmeline shared a smile with Hermione. "We've got this," they said together with a nod.

"You lot are the group that's been showing up at Death Eater attacks, aren't you?" one of the Aurors asked, his expression inscrutable.

"That's right," Hermione said.

A trickle of respect crept onto the Auror's face. "I know I'm not supposed to approve… but I gotta tell you… a lot of us… we're glad to know you're out there. Glad to know the fight is bigger than just us."

Relief and pride rushed through her. She could feel the energy of her team shift.

"Back atcha," Gideon said with a grin.

The Auror laughed softly, but was cut short by a rumbling in the distance. Everyone's gaze jerked to the crystal clear night sky. Definitely not thunder.

Hermione was just opening her mouth to suggest they send out some scouts to find out what the bloody hell was making the noise - though she was reasonably, chillingly certain she already knew - when about a hundred cracks snapped through the air, and they were surrounded by Death Eaters.

They're here.