Chapter 60
"Alright, everyone's here now." Remus sipped his tea as Kingsley entered through the door to the Tonks' kitchen. "What did you want to discuss, Hermione?"
"Two things," she answered, proud that she could keep the tremors of defeat and self-doubt out of her voice.
Hermione didn't want to discuss anything, actually. She was mentally exhausted after everything that happened at Malfoy Manor and was having difficulty processing her actions in the dungeons: leaving Eloise and Ollivander behind and killing Dedalus. She desperately needed to talk to someone, and was at a loss as to who. But there were more urgent things to deal with, so she compartmentalized her sorrow and guilt. She didn't even need to concentrate to Occlude anymore, it had become as natural as breathing.
"This is the first." She slid several rolled parchments over to Tonks. "Manor and estate plans for Yaxley, Mulciber, Rookwood and Avery. The spy thinks one of them may know what happened at Brockton Bridge and Wembley Stadium if they weren't Obliviated already."
At least Hermione didn't have to do anything with the plans. Tonks was in charge of planning and executing raids, and she reached across the table and grabbed the parchments without preamble. "That's quite a lot."
Remus gazed affectionately at his wife's greedy smile. "They should keep you busy enough while Teddy naps."
Hermione cleared her throat. "Our spy has been more… motivated." And he was paying for that motivation. Hermione hoped she could see Draco again soon; he had been in so much pain last night.
Tonks quirked an eyebrow at her, perhaps expecting another diatribe at how Draco deserved the Unbreakable Vow, but said nothing. Hermione's research indicated that Kingsley was not telling the truth. Not just stringing her along, but actively lying. Hermione wasn't going to battle with him again without understanding why, or without knowing how she could force his hand.
"Still no Lestrange?" Remus asked.
Hermione shook her head. "The spy won't give the Lestranges up." Tonks nodded. She understood the relationship Draco had with Bellatrix was complicated.
Kingsley peered over Tonks' shoulder as she studied the plans. "I'll get the Ministry files on their wards copied for you right away. It's imperative we understand the purpose of the attacks."
Minerva turned to Hermione after flattening her parchment for note taking. "What is the second item?"
Hermione took a deep breath. "I don't know why I didn't notice this until now. Probably with all the excitement after getting the prisoners out of Malfoy Manor but…" Everyone eyed her expectantly. "John Dawlish wasn't there."
Remus lifted his chin and blinked. "What do you mean?"
She tucked a curl behind her ear. "He wasn't in the dungeons at Malfoy Manor. Dedalus was," she swallowed and forced the memory of his accepting smile to the back of her head, "but John wasn't."
The senior members looked around the table at each other, confused.
"Was John killed?" Tonks asked, taking Remus' hand.
Hermione shook her head. She hadn't told anyone about her role in Dedalus Diggle's death. Oliver didn't speak about it either. "Hannah said she didn't even know he'd been captured. He was never in the dungeons with them. Never present when they were all tortured, wasn't even there when they were first captured."
They all sat back in their chairs, pondering the new information.
"Did John know something Dedalus didn't?" Hermione asked. "Would there be a reason to separate him from everyone else?"
Tonks held her chin in thought.
"Perhaps he's the one that betrayed us?" McGonagall asked. "That enabled the Paddington safe house raid?"
Remus glanced at her. "It's certainly possible. Plenty of opportunity to cast an Imperius while training Order members. If he identified the Secret Keeper, he could have compelled them to divulge the Paddington safe house location to capture Harry."
Kingsley shifted in his seat. "Something doesn't make sense."
Hermione turned to him, curious.
"If you have a spy," he continued, stroking his jaw. "And no one has identified him, then why pull him out? Why not keep him here among us? He's more valuable hidden here among us with the other Aurors. If he's not here, and he's not there, where is he?"
"You-Know-Who must have known we discovered the Veritaserum implant. I interrogated everyone after the first raid," Tonks reminded him. "If he was a spy, they'd lose him if he stayed."
"Could he be connected with Wembley somehow?" Remus asked.
No one had an answer, and the eerie silence gave Hermione a sense of foreboding. Earlier in the war, the Order had always been one step ahead. Now, she had a feeling that Voldemort's Army was slowly putting pieces into place while they scrambled to catch up.
"Well, we're not going to figure this out tonight," Tonks said, eager to get to work on the plans Draco had supplied. She let go of Remus's hand in order to sort through the rolled parchments. "I'm going to start interrogating the prisoners tomorrow to see what they know about John. Let's meet after I've finished; we'll all be a lot smarter by then."
"Alright," Remus helped Tonks collect all the parchments. "I think we're done for the night." He turned to her. "Well done, Hermione."
Hermione tried but couldn't manage to smile from his praise. She felt like absolute shit.
Chairs scraped against the floor as everyone stood to leave. Everyone except Hermione.
"Tonks?" Hermione called out.
She turned around, eyebrows furrowed in concern at Hermione's tone. "Yeah?"
"Can I speak with you alone?" Her voice sounded small and meek. Very unlike herself. Kingsley glanced at her curiously, Minerva with worry, but they exited the kitchen.
"Of course."
Tonks took in the expression on Hermione's face and walked around the table to sit next to her. Remus raised his eyebrows in question and Tonks shook her head. They waited for him to leave and then Tonks returned her eyes to Hermione.
Bright green today. Like Harry's.
Hermione started to speak but couldn't. Her voice caught in her throat.
Tonks set the parchments down on the table and cradled Hermione's hands in her own. "What's wrong Hermione?"
She felt tears well from within, and couldn't stop them from spilling out. "I… Dedalus." She couldn't form anymore words and gasped a sob.
Tonks wrapped her arms around her, bringing her in for a hug and pressing her fingers into her shoulders. "There wasn't anything you could do. You did the best you could and brought back three. It was three or nothing. You all would have been caught."
"No!" Hermione sobbed into Tonks shoulder. She smelled like Teddy. "I… I… He asked me to… He was…" She couldn't speak. Her throat kept closing and her chest burned.
Tonks rubbed her back and she leaned into her comforting warmth. "What did he ask?"
"He was tortured so badly. He looked awful. His limbs were…" Hermione hiccupped a sob. "I wouldn't have even known where to begin to heal him if I had time. And we couldn't get him out."
"I know, Hermione," Tonks tried to soothe her. "I know you couldn't bring him."
"No, he… he said he couldn't take it anymore. He said he knew too much and people at the Ministry would die. He asked me–" She heaved and her shoulders shook as more tears spilled out. "He asked…" She couldn't say it.
Tonks gently clutched her shoulders and held her upright in front of her, green eyes searching Hermione's face.
"He wanted me to kill him!" She bent over, tears and snot were streaming down her face and she wiped it away with her sleeve. "Tonks, he asked me to kill him!" she cried out. "I don't – I don't – I don't know! He pleaded with me! He begged! I didn't know what to do! I can't…" she hiccupped again, unable to speak anymore as Tonks cradled her into her chest.
Hermione couldn't look at her, afraid of what she would see. Her body shook as she cried and her head dropped into her hands. She spoke, her voice muffled by her sleeves. "He said others would die, that he'd break. He wanted me to kill him."
"And you did."
"Yes! I killed him!" she wailed. Hermione's shoulders shook and she gritted her teeth together, trying to breathe and wheezing. "I knew we wouldn't be able to go back to get him out. Especially after they'd see the dungeons were broken into. He knew that too. He… He…" she heaved another sob. "He smiled."
Tonks drew her in for another hug and pressed Hermione's head against her breast. It felt good to confide in Tonks again, like she used to, and she let her body sag against her mentor.
Tonks wasn't judging her. She understood, and held her while waiting for Hermione's violent crying to subside. After a few minutes her sobbing stopped, save for an involuntary loud, shuddering breath.
"What would you have done, Tonks?" she croaked
"I don't know," Tonks replied softly. After a pause she continued, "I might have done the same."
"Would you have?" she asked desperately, tears streaming down her face. She needed to hear that she did the right thing.
"I'm not sure," was Tonks' whispered reply. "Maybe."
"But," Hermione protested, wiping her eyes and her cheeks. "Was it the right thing to do?" Her voice trembled, she was terrified of the answer she'd receive.
Tonks sighed, her green eyes gazing at Hermione's face. "I don't know, Hermione. It's hard to answer that question sometimes."
oooooooooo
"Sweet Circe." Draco let out a long contented groan. "Your hands almost make suffering through the Dark Lord's Cruciatus worth it."
Hermione straddled his back and massaged his shoulders, his neck, his sides, wherever he wanted and for as long as he wanted. He was doing so much better than last night. She dug her fingers deep into his muscles and pushed her palms into his flesh. His eyes were closed and a sleepy smile graced his features. She enjoyed hearing his contented moans while her hands worked across his body.
"Would you like to flip over?" she asked.
He opened an eye and gazed back at her with a lazy grin. "Are you going to take advantage of me in my weakened state?"
"Absolutely."
Slowly, he rolled over onto his back with a wince. The skin of his torso slipped against her bare thighs. She rubbed circles into his pectoral muscles and moved to the nape of his neck and then his shoulder, squeezing his biceps and the girth of his right upper arm, all the way down his forearm. She smiled and bit her lip, shyly looking down into his hooded grey eyes.
Hermione knew Draco loved her, she felt his passion deeply and recently he had put himself in danger for her. Without any hesitation, he dropped himself right into his predator's clutches and willingly subjected himself and his parents to torture so that she could get out alive.
And she was still lying to him.
He was clinging to that pardon. But hadn't asked about it, believing that he had destroyed the trust built over the past few months by concealing the fact that Order prisoners were at Malfoy Manor. She didn't have the heart to tell him that Kingsley was not just stringing him along, but lying to both of them. Draco was still recovering, and right now he needed to believe things would be better after the war.
Maybe next time they were together when he wasn't in so much pain she would tell him. Hopefully she'd have more answers, and a way to force Kingsley's hand.
"Why did you stop?"
Hermione hadn't realized she did. She worked her way back up his arm and down his left where the Dark Mark was. She pressed the balls of her hands into his chest muscles again and made her way down his stomach to the waistline of his trousers. Every so often he released a whimper of pleasure. He hadn't been hard before but she could feel him stiffening under the fabric of his pajamas.
She crawled backwards, and licked his member lightly as she peeled the waistline down. He huffed a groan and his cock twitched upwards.
"Tease."
Hermione smiled and removed his trousers to continue massaging up and down the hard muscles of his legs. Draco crossed his arms behind his head, quietly watching her while she dug her fingers into his pale skin. Hermione felt quite overwhelmed by his intense gaze.
It wasn't fair. None of this was fair to him. He trusted her.
Her throat constricted from her overwhelming sense of guilt, and she stared back at him. He was still observing her in silence, hands behind his head. She lowered her eyes to her hands. She was so ashamed of the situation she found herself in and wasn't sure how to fix it. He didn't deserve this from her.
"I don't deserve you."
His eyebrows rose in amused surprise. "Isn't that my line?"
She couldn't do much more than smile sadly. Her eyes became hot with the beginnings of tears.
"Hey," he said softly, reaching out with his hand and motioning with his fingers. "Come here."
She crawled on top of him and he tenderly tucked a curl behind her ear.
"You're doing what you need to win, Hermione. I understand that."
Draco thought she only felt guilty because he had been tortured. And she did. It was awful knowing how much he suffered for her actions. But he didn't know just how much he was being used by her. Her chest shuddered and a tear spilled out. The corner of his mouth lifted and he wiped the tear away, spreading the wetness on her cheek.
"Feel free to service me sexually to assuage your guilt. I guarantee it'll make me feel better."
Hermione laughed softly, wiping her tears away and took the lead, relishing in the pleasure she gave him. Draco lay languidly on his back while she kissed him, licked him, rubbed him, sucked him. She reveled in the way his bright eyes watched her, and the sounds she elicited from him. Their lovemaking was slow and sensuous and exploratory. She took her time with her mouth and with her hands, and grazed his chest and abdomen with her breasts and lips. Hermione kissed patterns over his pelvic area, cupped him gently and licked swirls around his length. She watched as Draco sucked in a breath, bit his bottom lip in anticipation and pushed his chin up, body trembling as he strained for more contact. He made soft, agonized declarations of need and she slid against him, becoming slick with sweat writhing with him inside her.
She wanted to cover him, shield him, pleasure him and comfort him. Draco came inside her with a desperate gasp, clinging to her hips. Now he held her, laying atop his body, and Hermione pressed tiny kisses to his jaw while she rose up and down with the cadence of his breathing. His cock slid out, seed dribbling between their legs. He traced patterns up and down the line of her neck, down her spine, around the curve of her bum, and back up again. Fighting the urge to cry, she rolled off to lay beside him, arm draped across his chest.
Her head was next to his on the pillow, and she watched him breathe. His cheeks were flushed in the afterglow of her devotion to his body and his lips spread in a warm smile. For the first time since the summer party, he looked content and sated.
She couldn't tell him now.
oooooooooo
"Who's turn is it?"
Hermione, Ron and Harry stood on the ledge of Voldemort's cave, overlooking the sea. They stared down at the diadem laying innocently on the rocky outcropping. Wind whipped though her hair.
"Ron." Harry motioned to the Horcrux and shoved his hands in his jean pockets. "You have a go."
Ron looked unsure of himself. "I'm not sure I can cast the Fiendfyre, remember what happened last time? We barely left with our bits intact. Better you or Hermione do it."
Because Fiendfyre was so dangerous, they thought it safer to wait until they had the cup and diadem together to destroy them both at the same time. Fun as it had been smashing the kitten themed dishes, and the room full of hell spawn kittens, things had gotten out of hand at Umbridge's house. They barely made it out alive and were wary of using Fiendfyre again. However, since Yasmine Zabini revealed the cup was likely with Snape or Bellatrix, they decided it would be best to destroy the diadem and get it over with. They had no idea how to get the cup at this point, or how long it would take them.
A problem for another day.
Despite the success of bringing back Luna, Oliver and Hannah, all three were mentally and physically exhausted from the events at Malfoy Manor. Being forced to leave others behind had changed them forever. All three shared a haunted look in their eyes that had not been there prior.
Everything the trio did together, for better or for worse, brought them closer. Including the horrors of war. They had been through so much, but they were bearing it together. Destroying a Horcrux felt like old times, similar to the antics they got into back at Hogwarts. It brought them strength, and got their friendship back on track.
If there was any time to destroy a Horcrux, it was now.
"Harry destroyed the diary, Dumbledore destroyed the ring, I cast the first Fiendfyre so technically I did the locket. You can do this one," she nudged Ron with her hip. "We believe in you."
Ron gazed down at her warmly, heartened by her praise. Hermione missed having him look at her like that so much and her heart swelled. He had been so angry and distant first from her rejection and then from her refusal to tell them who brought them the diadem.
All that was in the past now, their friendship weathered the storm.
Ron eyed Hermione. "You sure you don't want to vomit on it first?"
Harry laughed, also relieved the Trio was back to normal again. Mostly.
She sighed in faux exasperation. "What is it with you two about me vomiting on Horcruxes?"
Harry chuckled again. "You're the one who said Umbridge's kitten collection made you want to throw up."
She snorted. "Right. Such a paragon of composure, Boy-Who-Lived-to-Gouge-His-Eyeballs-Out-After-Bleaching-Them."
"Your vomit is special," Ron retorted. "Muggle-born chunks with Horcrux destroying powers. Safer than Fiendfyre to be sure!"
Ron started cackling and she directed a raised eyebrow at him. "Don't think we don't know you're stalling, Ronald."
Ron abruptly stopped laughing and steadied himself with a deep breath. He raised his wand and she and Harry walked behind him, flanking his sides, when a shimmery doe Patronus appeared out of nowhere. Having been taken by surprise, the Trio immediately shifted their stance, wands upright and ready to attack. But the doe stood, silently blinking at them.
After a few seconds of calm, Harry lowered his wand. But Hermione and Ron remained wary, eyeing their surroundings and ready to attack.
The doe hadn't moved, and appeared to be waiting for something.
"Have either of you seen that Patronus before?" Hermione asked.
Harry shook his head. "But it feels… familiar. Does it feel familiar to you?"
"No," Ron said. "Not at all."
Hermione shook her head to the negative.
The Patronus turned and walked a few steps away. They stood unmoving, and the doe looked back at them, waiting.
"I think it wants us to follow," Harry said.
"Is that wise?" she asked.
"Where could it possibly lead us to?" Harry replied. "If anyone knew we were here I doubt being fifty paces north would make much of a difference."
Hermione shrugged and lowered her wand. He made a valid point. She picked up the diadem and the three followed the doe off of the rocky cliff and into the adjoining grassy field. The doe stopped, turned to them, and lowered its head down to the ground, nuzzling the grass. It raised its head, looked back, and then disappeared.
The three exchanged glances, not understanding what just happened. Harry stepped forward towards the spot where the doe had led them.
"Do you see anything?" Ron asked.
"No," Harry replied, kicking the ground with his toe. "There's nothing – wait a minute."
Hermione and Ron quickly approached to see him rubbing some dirt off of a shiny metallic object with his shoe. Harry crouched down and dug into the dirt with his hands, revealing more metal and a ruby.
"Stop," Hermione warned him apprehensively. "We don't know what that is."
He continued digging in the ground, green eyes determined. "I trust the Patronus."
"Why?"
"I don't know," he squinted up at her. "It feels like… home?"
Hermione eyed him curiously. Harry didn't mean home with the Dursleys.
"Okay but back up, don't dig it out with your hands," Ron admonished.
Harry stood up and stepped backwards. Ron pointed his wand at the metal. It trembled, lifted, wobbled some more, and then all three of them gasped as the Sword of Gryffindor emerged from the ground, dirt and grass falling off of the handle in thick clumps.
"Is that…" Ron's voice trailed off.
"Yeah," Harry replied, voice soft with amazement.
Harry tentatively reached out to clasp the handle and Ron halted the levitating spell.
"Maybe we can destroy the Horcrux with the sword?" Ron suggested, hopeful that he wouldn't have to cast the Fiendfyre.
"Would it still have the Basilisk venom on it?" Harry asked, clearly doubting its usefulness.
"Yes!" Hermione nodded excitedly. "It's Goblin wrought steel. Goblin wrought steel preserves the magical properties of the items it comes into contact with."
Ron coughed and said something that sounded suspiciously like 'swot' under his breath. She glared at him and he grinned right back at her. The playful teasing warmed her heart. She missed him.
"Who knew we were destroying Horcruxes?" Harry turned to them, eyes wide.
Hermione wracked her brain. "Remus found out, but I Obliviated him, remember? And that's not his Patronus."
"Hmm…" Ron sat in thought.
She thought some more. "My Occlumency mentor knows. It couldn't be helped."
"Is that their Patronus?" Harry asked skeptically.
Hermione chewed on her lip, thinking. "I have no idea if they can even cast one, let alone what it would look like. And why would it be familiar to you? You're the one that felt we could trust it. What does that mean?"
Harry shrugged. "Would your teacher know how to destroy Horcruxes? About the venom from when I stabbed the basilisk? About the properties of Goblin steel?"
She stared at him pensively. "In theory, they know everything I know." It sounded unlikely though.
"That's an awful lot to put together during the time you have your lessons," Ron mused.
"I agree," she nodded. "They're good, but that's highly improbable. And they search for the memories I try to repress. Not random ones."
"How would they get the sword from Snape's office?" Harry asked.
Hermione remembered Blaise's mother sauntering around the ballroom.
"I don't think she'd have a problem with that at all."
Ron and Harry glanced at her curiously.
"She?"
Oops.
She cleared her throat. "Yes. She."
They both looked disgusted, imagining their greasy Potions professor being seduced into relinquishing the Sword of Gryffindor. Draco would have a field day with the dick jokes inspired from that bit of knowledge.
Although it was possible and all the pieces could potentially fit together, the explanation of her Occlumency teacher getting the sword from Snape was far-fetched. The way Harry reacted to the Patronus made no sense whatsoever, and Hermione doubted her teacher would pull all those random bits of knowledge together from her head like that.
Ron was anxious to get his hands on the sword. "We can discuss it later, let's kill that thing already."
Harry handed him the sword and Hermione placed the diadem on the ground, backing away a few steps. Ron gripped the sword with both hands, lowered the tip to the stone in the center, arms straining as he took aim, and then raised the sword to strike.
As soon as he did, smoke spewed out of the stone, wind whipped around them and they held onto each other, unsure what was happening. Frantically, they searched the ground for the diadem, but couldn't see until the smoke slowly parted, revealing two phantom visions in front of them.
Harry and Hermione, naked and holding each other in an embrace. Their jaws dropped and Ron fell backwards onto the ground, dropping the sword into the grass next to him.
As the presence of dark magic surrounded them, it became harder to breathe and Hermione inhaled deep gasps while the images looked cruelly down at Ron. The phantom Harry started to taunt him, saying he was the least loved of all the Weasley children and that his mother would have preferred to have Harry as a son instead.
Struggling to breathe under Voldemort's presence, Hermione met Harry's eyes, horrified, and they crouched down on the ground next to Ron. She knew Ron had insecurities, and Voldemort's soul was taunting him with the worst of them. She felt terrible, but wasn't sure what to do for her friend. Harry sprang into action right away. No matter what, Harry could always be relied upon, and she drew strength from his presence.
"Ron, it's bollocks! He's lashing out. He's trying to make you doubt yourself."
"But it's true!" Ron protested as the phantom Hermione told him that she never wanted him, that he wasn't good enough for her.
The three watched in transfixed revulsion as the Horcrux images mauled and groped each other in an obscene manner, grunting and groaning while sneering provocatively down at Ron.
"Ron," Harry squatted next to him on the ground. "None of this is true."
"But you don't want me!" Ron turned to Hermione, eyes glassy with unshed tears. "You don't think I'm good enough for you!"
"I don't want Harry either," she countered, taking his hand. "Not like that. You're both my best friends. You've got Susan, now. And if you think she deserves to be your wife, I'll be the best man at your wedding." She paused and met Harry's amused glance. "Harry can be the maid of honor."
Hermione saw a bit of a grin crack through Ron's agonized expression, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from the phantom versions of Harry and Hermione rubbing against each other.
Harry's voice lowered an octave. "Don't you understand, Ron? You've got the weapon. He's scared of you. Go show him why."
Ron gritted his teeth and stood with a grunt. He grabbed the sword and with one hand swung it in a wide arc over his head and down, slicing through the smoke and phantom images and smashing the diadem with a loud crack.
The smoke dissipated at once, as did the choking presence of dark magic and the three stared in wonder at the place where the phantom images of Harry and Hermione once stood.
Ron tugged on the sword, loosening it from where the strength of his blow had lodged it in the dirt, lifted it up and turned it over in his hand. The inscription of Godric Gryffindor's name on the blade flashed back at him.
"Ron," Harry clapped him on the back in pride. "You're a fucking Gryffindor."
Ron's grin was wide. Ear to ear. He flipped the sword again in his hand, testing the weight and enjoying the feel of it. Hermione leaned in to hug him.
"Well done, Ron."
He gave her a mischievous grin. "Thanks, Mione."
She shot him a dark look. "When have you ever called me that?"
"Mia," he continued with a snigger.
"Excuse me?"
"Mi."
Harry started chuckling now.
"As in… do, re–"
"Herms."
"Ronald. What is wrong with–"
"Hermy."
"Won-won," she shot back.
Ron's smile fell. "Okay, you win."
"Don't mess with me," she taunted.
He tried a few practice swings with the sword.
"It suits you," Harry commented, crossing his arms.
Harry watched with a tired expression as Ron attacked an imaginary foe with a series of thrusts, slices and parries before he turned back to them with a silly smile.
"I could get used to this," he said, twirling the sword in his hands again. "Fuck you, Voldemort."
The three gaped at each other in horror as cracks of Apparition sounded around them. Of all the people to say Voldemort's name, Ron was the least likely. Even before the taboo he hated it when Harry would throw the name around, emulating Dumbledore. Ron must have felt emboldened by his victory and accidentally let it slip.
The next few seconds passed in slow motion. All three attempted to Apparate away immediately. Hermione's body slammed into an invisible wall and she staggered, falling to the ground with Harry and Ron. Anti-Apparition wards must have already been cast. Her terror mounted as she realized how fucked they were. Six. There had been six cracks of Apparition; they were outnumbered two to one.
They'd be caught. She had to do something to disguise Harry and they had to get rid of the Horcrux.
As they scrambled to their feet, Ron dropped the sword in her bag, covered the three of them with a Shielding charm, and started firing hexes over her head with angry desperate yells. Return fire was immediate and mercilessly pummeling his Shield charm. It wouldn't last long.
Hermione saw Harry's determined face illuminated with the red flashes of Ron's curses. His jaw strained and green eyes squinted in concentration as he propelled the destroyed Horcrux out and over the cliff, into the sea. He must have been thinking they'd be captured as well and, like her, wanted to cover their tracks with the Horcrux.
Hermione heard one of the Snatchers scream as Ron hit him, just as she hit Harry's face with a Stinging Hex. He yelped and turned to her in surprise as his face began to bubble and morph beyond recognition, pushing his glasses off and distorting his telltale scar.
She turned to hex Ron, who was admirably trying to fight and shield the three of them at the same time when she got hit in the shoulder. She shrieked as pain slowly spread through her arm and neck. Twisting around and fighting through the pain, she tried to hex Ron's face again but couldn't move her arm. He looked down at her in terror when something hard suddenly rammed into her side and everything went black.
The next thing Hermione knew, she, Harry and Ron were being dragged through the long hallway of Malfoy Manor.
Next chapter: the drawing room scene
