InDreams wrote this chapter.
The moment in which Hermione's gaze flickered to Draco's face, reading the masterfully crafted stoicism in his stare, was a much-needed reminder that their lives were at stake.
The bored lift and fall of his brows conveyed no recognition whatsoever to the fact that their former schoolmate—certainly a wizard, and likely a Death Eater as well—stood before them in the Muggle camp.
Seconds later, Draco's fingers curled around her own, giving her hand a squeeze in what could only be warning.
Granting him with her full attention again, she offered a banal smile, as if the return of a group of strangers was of only marginal interest.
The tension of Draco's grip, coupled with the warmth of a stare on the side of her head forced her attention back. For a brief instant, she met eyes with Theodore Nott before the man looked away, adjusting his bag.
Before Hermione could think any further on it, Troy was upon them, proffering a meaty hand.
"Phil, Beth," he said with a nod as he stepped back.
In Hermione's periphery, she could see Nott and the others who had just returned drift off towards Naylen's tent, presumably to discuss the mission, and she focused her attention on Troy.
Thankfully, the man wasn't keen to talk to them for long, appearing distracted, and when he bid them a good evening, Hermione released a tight breath that had been caught somewhere en route to her mouth.
Moments later, Draco slung a casual arm around her shoulders, drawing her lazily into his chest. Ducking his mouth to her ear, he murmured, "We don't know anything, yeah? Now more than ever, we need to watch ourselves."
When he drew back to meet her gaze, he offered her a salacious grin, as if he'd said something teasing in nature. Hermione noticed a few people look hurriedly away, knowing smiles on their faces.
Just Phil and Beth up to their newlywed antics again.
Biting down on her bottom lip, she smiled up at him. "Absolutely."
As time passed and they fell easier into the facade together, it was startling to realise she no longer had to try very hard at pretending. She carefully pinned the thought aside, as it would certainly do neither of them any good.
It gave them the perfect cover, however, when he pulled her away in the direction of their tent, because no one would question why they'd taken an early night together.
Once they were both safely in the tent, he spun towards her and dragged a hand through his hair. "What the hell just happened back there?"
"Theodore Nott isn't a Muggle," she replied with a grimace, careful to keep her voice down. "What do you think it means?"
Draco frowned, sinking into the cot and Hermione joined him. "It means he's infiltrated the Collective—but from the other side. He's the leak Naylen's worried about." Staring at her for a long moment, a stern clench to his jaw, he finished, "Most importantly, he knows us. If the Draco from this universe was with the Death Eaters, they'll have known one another well."
"And he knows Draco and Hermione would never be married," Hermione added.
Making a face, he relaxed back, lacing his fingers behind his head. "He'll know it's all a cover because obviously we aren't actually Phil and Beth." His eyes slid sidelong towards her. "We learned what we were meant to about the device—the question now is whether we should take off before Nott can expose us."
"Once we leave," Hermione whispered, "we can't come back." She rolled to face him, worrying her bottom lip. "It could be valuable information for the Order if we can learn what Nott is doing here."
"Probably the same as us. Trying to learn more about the device. If the Death Eaters can destroy or deactivate it, that'll leave these Muggles at a serious disadvantage." Narrowing his eyes, he added, "We need to figure out a way to play this in our favour. Nott won't want to be exposed any more than we do. Maybe he and Draco had enough goodwill between them that we can learn a thing or two from him before we go."
Releasing a sigh, Hermione turned to stare at the ceiling. "I keep asking myself to what extent our involvement should be in all of this. We aren't from here and this isn't our fight. But I can't help the feeling that we need to see this through, and that will be our way to get back to our timeline."
"I think you're right."
Silence fell between them for a long moment, and Draco drummed the tips of his fingers on the nylon of their joined sleeping bags. "There's still the matter of finding our device though and figuring out where that all went wrong. We can't stay here forever, but I think this development with Nott merits at least another day. We will have to see what we can learn tomorrow."
"Agreed." Hermione let out a long breath. Then her eyes darted back to him. "I think we should have our bags packed just in case. Nott might not be keen to talk."
"Good idea," he quipped, rising and stowing his few possessions into his bag as Hermione did likewise. "We might have to make a run for it."
They both froze, startled by the rustling of footsteps nearing the tent. Hermione could see a shadow stop and linger just beyond. Wide-eyed, she stared at Draco, tension thick in the tent.
Without warning, Draco rustled their sleeping bags with one hand and tickled her in the ribcage with the fingertips of the other. A bright laugh escaped her lips as she veered away from him instinctively, batting his hand from her side.
Continuing with his fabricated noise, he met her stare and his lips curled up with a smirk. Under his breath he whispered, "We're supposed to have snuck off for alone time, remember?"
Despite herself, Hermione released another soft giggle.
Moments later, the shadow carried on.
A breath of relief chased from her lungs and Draco collapsed onto the cot, burying his face in his hands. "This is getting ridiculous."
Considering the number of times she'd caught herself staring at him lately, she couldn't disagree. Especially since the staged kiss in the research tent—she could still remember the feel of his touch against her bare skin, and the way he'd engaged after his initial hesitation.
"Right." She managed a tight nod. "The sooner we can get out of here, the better. We'll see what we can learn tomorrow about Nott and decide from there."
Draco nodded, stripping his shirt over his head without warning. It was still light enough that she could see the ridges of muscle on his chest and abdomen, and she glanced away, feeling heat creep into her cheeks. Quietly he murmured, a teasing undertone in his words, "One would think you've seen me without my shirt enough times by now it shouldn't still bother you."
"It doesn't bother me," she returned, her voice a little strained as she looked back at him. "I'm only offering you privacy." He lifted his brows but didn't respond. At the smirk lingering on his lips she scowled, pressing on. "Besides, we aren't actually married. It isn't my place to stare."
Turning away from him again, she sat on the cot, tugging her jeans free and slipping her legs inside the sleeping bag as quickly as she could. She made sure to keep her clothes near in case trouble arose overnight. By the time she looked back up, he had dropped his jeans as well, but made no effort at modesty, despite being only in his shorts.
He slipped under the covers, his gaze flickering towards hers. "It doesn't bother me if you stare."
As she tried to force herself to sleep, she couldn't help but ruminate on what, exactly, he meant.
When Hermione stirred awake the following morning, the soft light filtering through the walls of the tent suggested it was still early. Every morning felt like a gamble to determine how they would wake, and though Hermione wasn't certain which of them was moving so much in their sleep, more often than not, they awoke in some sort of compromising position. Especially since the cot didn't afford them a lot of space to begin with.
One of his arms was looped around her waist, the other acting as her pillow, but as she made to recoil, he shifted, drawing her against his bare chest.
She could admit to herself, if only in the lingering haze of sleep, that there was something enticing about his arms around her.
But it was the fact that his face was only inches from hers that set her heart racing. He released a low sound from his throat as he moved, his nose nudging hers, and she froze, heart racing, as his lips brushed against hers.
Hermione couldn't tell if he was truly awake, but when he kissed her again, the warmth of it shot through her and she leaned in, returning the soft contact.
Whether because it was habit at this point, or because she genuinely wanted to kiss him, she melted into him, opening her mouth to his when his hand grazed her cheek, tilting her face for better access.
It was the first kiss they had shared without pretence, and her sleep-addled mind raced at the thrill of it, her body flaring with awareness.
Against her mouth, he breathed, "Hermione," and his eyes fluttered open to meet hers.
For a long, extended moment, they only stared at one another, still close enough that their breaths mingled, and his expression was painfully stoic; she wished he would say something else.
His fingertips brushed her cheekbone again when he dragged them away; finally, his lips twitched with an uneasy smirk. "I meant Beth."
Hermione wrenched her stare from his, gazing hard at the roof of the tent. "Of course."
Clearing his throat, he bit out, "Sorry."
"It's alright."
"Habit," he muttered, "or something."
"Right." Hermione waved a blind hand to reach down for her jeans. "We'll just call it practice, yeah?"
"Practice." He snickered, but she could still feel his stare on her when she sat up, sliding into the trousers. "Beth, look…"
Lifting her brows, she turned back to face him, wrapping her curls into a messy pile atop her head. "Yes?"
Draco blew out a long breath. "I know we haven't talked about a lot of this, but are you alright?" When she frowned, hesitating, he added, "I mean with the acting bit."
It was uneasy territory, to discuss these sorts of things when they would soon leave the camp and whatever presently existed between them would no longer be necessary. Hermione wasn't certain she was ready to face anything else she was feeling that had come along with the acting.
Perhaps she hadn't been prepared for any of it.
"It's fine." The words slipped free of her lips of their own accord. "It's the best way to keep our cover and lower suspicions. And I know it isn't real, if that's what you're concerned about."
"That's not what I'm—" Clamping his lips shut, he cut himself off. "We'll be due at the creek soon."
Hermione only nodded, digging in her bag for the few hygiene supplies they'd been given, before proceeding to duck out of the tent.
Draco stepped out after her, almost stumbling on a small box near the door of their tent. Frowning, he picked it up, a furrow of consternation in his brow as he stared at it, and Hermione gaped in horror.
She hissed, snagging the box from his grip and tossing it back behind them into the tent. With a furtive glance around, she whispered, "Condoms. Muggle birth control—someone thinks they're having a laugh."
He only snorted, humour playing across his face, and eyed the box for a second before zipping the tent closed. Rolling her eyes, Hermione took off for the creek without him.
They'd reached the creek before most of the others in the camp were awake, and Hermione was able to enjoy a few moments of silence, only the slight rustle of wind in the trees and birdsong high above.
She slipped out of her shirt and jeans, wading into the chilly water in her underthings. As she submerged her hair, she did her best to comb out some of the tangles, wishing she had her proper hair potions. Since no one else was around, Draco had entered the creek simultaneously, and she could see him some distance away.
After a few minutes of adjustment, coupled with the warmth from the early sun above, the water grew comfortable and Hermione allowed herself to relax, a soft smile overtaking her lips.
Until she heard a cracking of branches and her eyes startled open, glancing around. She met Draco's gaze, but he only pressed a finger to his lips and moved closer. As he approached, he ducked his head, and murmured by her ear, "Someone's out there."
Hermione found herself oddly fixated on whether Draco still wore his shorts or not—whether he was fully nude. But her attention snapped back to whoever was in the trees. She could hear several heavy footsteps and then the sounds of male voices.
"This isn't good," one man said, his low voice carrying towards the creek well enough that Hermione could just hear if she focused.
"Nothing we can do about it now," another voice said. "We just have to make sure he doesn't suspect any further."
Hermione found Draco's stare, distracted but fixed on her, clearly listening in as well.
A third voice said something she couldn't catch and then hissed. "Did you hear that?"
Wincing, Hermione did her best to stay still in the water that was lapping against her with the slight breeze. In an instant, Draco looped an arm around her, drawing her towards him and pressing his temple against hers.
She heard the rustle of branches and brush once more and one of the men broke the edge of the clearing towards the creek before ducking back away; her heart jumped to realise it was their external contact, Troy. Hermione vaguely heard him murmur, "Just the newlyweds."
Another of the men snorted. "It's fine. Those two don't pay attention to anything but each other."
Hermione caught the smirk drift across Draco's lips as he met her stare. But she felt herself all too aware of the way he was pressed against her, and with their unintentional kiss that morning still fresh in her mind, she found her stare drop briefly to his mouth.
The men—three of them, she had surmised—fell silent for a tense, uncomfortable moment, and one of them muttered something she couldn't hear. There was a general snicker of amusement.
The third said, "The newlyweds—how long have they been here?"
Draco's grey eyes widened and he mouthed, Nott.
"Maybe a week or so," the last voice Hermione had yet to identify said quietly. "Good enough fighters. Not sure Naylen trusts them fully though."
"Naylen doesn't trust his own arse," Troy said, a nasty tone to his voice. The three shared another laugh. "All the more reason to get rid of him."
Hermione couldn't quite stop her sharp intake of breath, and the noise in the brush stopped. Heavy footsteps approached the clearing again, and before Hermione could even contemplate escaping the situation, Draco's mouth was on hers, his lips firm and insistent. The pressure of his hand on her back was a clear warning.
Burying her hands in his damp hair, Hermione sighed into the kiss as his tongue teased hers, wholly aware of the utter lack of space between them in the water. A hint of relief settled in her when she realised he wasn't fully nude.
Nerves and unease crept along her spine when she cracked an eye open to see the men lingering for a moment before one of them said under a breath, "Looks like we'd best leave them to it."
Even as she heard the retreat of footsteps, Draco didn't pull away, kissing her deeply, one arm coiled around her back and keeping her tightly against him. Hermione couldn't resist the feel of him, her eyes fluttering as he trailed a line of kisses along her jaw, her head falling to the side to oblige him as she skated a hand along the smooth muscle of his back beneath the water.
"Phil," she breathed, heart racing so hard it was a wonder she could even focus on anything else. "I think they're gone."
He tore away, breathing harshly, and his eyes darted to hers for a moment as he swallowed. "Did you see who the third was?"
"No." She forced her own heart rate to a heel. "Only Troy and Nott."
Belatedly, she realised her arms were still coiled around him, his face brushing against the side of her head as he spoke quietly by her ear. "So Troy is in league with Nott and someone else trying to take out Naylen?"
"Do you think Troy's a Death Eater?"
"Not according to Potter; we were told he was a Muggle. So what's he got against Naylen?" Draco ran a possessive hand up the length of her spine, sweeping her hair to the side. She didn't think they were still being watched, but she wasn't in a hurry to extricate herself from his hold. Just in case, of course.
Hermione shook her head. What they had just learned combined with Draco's proximity and overwhelming touch left her brain frantic and fuzzy. "I don't know, but clearly, Naylen doesn't have just one problem to deal with in the camp. Maybe Nott's persuaded Troy into something and he doesn't even know he's working with a Death Eater."
"Knowing the version of Nott I know, I wouldn't put it past him. He's cunning as hell. Either way," Draco said quietly with a grimace, "we need to figure out what's going on here—and fast."
Nodding, she ignored the disappointment that swept through her when she untangled herself from his hold and waded towards the shore of the creek. Wrapping herself in a towel, she combed through her wet curls with her fingers, feeling Draco's stare on her.
Several minutes later they'd dried off well enough to dress, and shared a cautious look.
Hermione glanced up from fidgeting with her bag, surprise rapidly turning to dread when she saw Nott come up alongside Draco, clapping a hand tightly around his shoulder. Nott's hazel eyes flickered to hers, intense and scrutinising before he flashed the pair of them a facetious, winning smile.
"Old friend," Nott drawled, his grip on Draco's shoulder tightening. Draco's face remained carefully blank as his stare settled on her. "Is this ever a surprise."
Releasing a tight breath, Draco rolled his neck and muttered, "Nott."
"I wasn't aware of this particular proclivity." Nott raked his stare up her form with a smirk, "But I can't say it surprises me. Thin lines and all that." He hesitated, tension hanging between the three of them. "What does surprise me is that you aren't Muggles."
Hermione folded her arms, staring him down. "Neither are you."
Nott relinquished his grip on Draco, holding up his hands in a placating gesture. "Obviously. So the question here is: how are we going to deal with this? We could simply proceed as if none of us know each other, assuming we're all here for more or less the same reasons, and leave it there."
Draco folded his arms, turning to face Nott with narrowed eyes. "Our reasons don't involve giving Riddle an advantage in the war. So that isn't going to work."
With a flicker of his brows, Nott stepped away, turning to leave. "Fine. You'll expose me; I'll expose you. I suppose we'll see who Naylen believes. My guess would be his loyal sentry who's been here for three months, but maybe you'll get lucky."
"Nott," Draco ground out through a clenched jaw and the man froze mid-step, a mischievous smile lingering on his face. "We won't be here much longer. If you and I had any trust—just let us go. We won't try to interfere with what you're doing here."
The smile fell from Nott's lips, replaced by consternation. "You know we did, Draco. You had your reasons for walking away after Lucius was killed and I don't hold that against you." With a quick glance around, he lowered his voice. "But that doesn't mean I can just let you walk off to the Order with what you've presumably learned here."
Hermione narrowed her eyes, glancing between them. It was like walking on thin ice; while Draco and Theo may have been friends in their timeline, they didn't know anything about the version of Theodore Nott from this dimension.
Quietly she asked, "What do you want?"
Clicking his tongue, Nott absently toed the ground with his boot. "I want out." It was so quiet Hermione wasn't even certain she'd heard him.
Her eyes blew wide with shock and she met Draco's startled expression for an instant before he carefully schooled it into a frown.
"What do you mean? Out of the Collective?"
Theo stared hard at Draco for a long moment. "You walked away from Riddle and survived. I won't turn you in to Naylen if you take me with you when you go. To the Order." His voice dropped again. "I know things you wouldn't believe."
Of all possible scenarios Hermione had considered, this wasn't one of them. She had anticipated Nott would pose a threat—unless it was all merely a trick. Draco had suggested the man to be cunning.
The problem remained that they didn't know how Draco had managed to get away from Riddle with his life in the first place.
"Look, Theo," Draco said, tugging at his hair. "I don't know if we can help you."
Nott's face flashed. "Why not?"
Thinning his lips, Draco stared at Hermione for long enough that she could see the cogs whirring in the back of his mind. She could see the question in his stare and didn't know the answer. But if Nott was telling the truth, he could prove more than useful as an asset not only to them inside the camp, but to the Order.
With a noncommittal gesture, she mused, "I'll leave this one to you."
Draco finally turned from her with a grimace. "This is going to sound bloody insane, but… Granger and I aren't from this timeline. We don't know what happened, but we woke up here last week and we've been trying to figure out a way home. We think it has something to do with the device, but none of this is familiar to us. In our world, the war ended in seventh year and Riddle's dead."
A heavy furrow sat on Nott's brow as he listened with a deep frown. "What do you mean—like inter-dimensional travel? That's even possible?"
"It is," Hermione offered, "but it isn't well documented—or understood. Our hope is that by seeing all of this through, we'll be able to find our way home. Presumably, the Draco and Hermione from your timeline are stuck there."
Sucking a breath in through his teeth, Nott shook his head. "I don't know—this makes things more complicated. Are you working with the Order or not?"
"We are," Draco allowed. "But we don't really know what we're doing. When we stumbled across one another, Granger thought to go see Potter and we ended up dragged into all this. All we were meant to do was learn about how the device operates."
"And Potter is trying to defeat Riddle?" Nott's brows lifted as he glanced between them.
Draco and Hermione shared a look and a nod.
"Then I'm coming with you," he announced, his expression darkening. "You—or the other Draco, anyway—aren't the only one who's suffered at Riddle's hand. I'd gladly see the bastard dead."
Something in Nott's gaze, and in the way he had transitioned from flippant to serious, registered in the back of Hermione's mind. Despite not knowing the man at all, she believed him. And she felt as if they had no choice but to rely on this Theo's pre-existing relationship with the other Draco.
"Fine," Draco huffed with a nod, obviously on the same wavelength. "We haven't worked out a plan yet but we'll need to get out soon." He hesitated for a moment, turning narrowed eyes on Nott once more. "What was that about with Troy? About taking out Naylen?"
"Troy and Roger don't like the way Naylen's running things," Nott said with an apprehensive look around. In the distance, Hermione could hear voices and she realised they'd long overstayed their time at the creek. "Internal strife—he's been sending people on missions inadequately prepared and we lost a few men on the last one." With a bit of a grimace, he added, "I've proven myself more useful here than I ever meant to, but it means these guys trust me with their lives."
The footsteps grew closer and the three of them kept a cautious eye on the bushes.
Draco shouldered his pack. "We'd better go. Keep in touch."
"We can meet after training," Nott whispered. "I know a place. Keep watch for me."
With that, he ducked into the trees along the other side of the creek.
Hermione exchanged a grim look with Draco. "I suppose we're in this now."
He offered an uneasy smile in return. "We'd better hope this isn't the wrong call. Breakfast awaits."
All through training that day Hermione felt herself going through the motions, but internally, her brain was elsewhere. If they left the Collective, there would be no returning without drawing suspicions; surely there was still more to learn.
But they needed to report in with the Order, and the longer they stayed behind with information that could prove vital, the longer they delayed everything else.
Furthermore, Hermione didn't know whether they could trust Nott. She had deferred the situation to Draco because he, at least, knew the man's character back home; they'd been housemates and friends at Hogwarts.
She could only hope the same was true here and that Nott hadn't been leading them on when he'd said he and Draco had been friends as Death Eaters.
If he was telling the truth…
Having one of Riddle's top Death Eaters at their side could prove to be invaluable too. Combined with his inner knowledge of the Muggle camp, Nott could be a strong ally for the Order to have.
She'd felt his eyes on her periodically throughout the day, and she knew Draco was contemplating the same. He'd nearly allowed her to overpower him in the sword fighting ring, a feat to which she'd never even come close before.
When they broke for lunch, Draco was curiously quiet, and Hermione nudged him beneath the table, firing him a look. He only offered a slow grin and a wink in return; her stomach flipped in somersaults.
With the excitement that had occurred with Nott by the creek, she'd hardly had time to process the heated kisses they'd shared with their bare skin pressed together in the cool water. Of course, it had been for show, like all the rest, but paired with the kiss early that morning, the situation between them had started to feel less like an act and more like the real thing.
It was to be expected, given they had grown more comfortable with one another at an almost alarming pace.
She was trying to force herself to come to terms with the fact that it was a temporary act, and as soon as they left the camp that would be the end of it. So the thought of leaving the Collective felt oddly bittersweet.
"You alright?" Draco eyed her across the table as they finished up with their lunch. "I know this has been a lot to take in."
Hermione glanced up, startled, before offering a smile. "Of course."
It certainly wasn't safe to discuss anything of great importance in the meal area, even quietly and alone, and he only returned with a brief smile of his own. She felt the warmth of it simmer below the surface of her skin and she looked away.
That afternoon they were slated for archery. Though Hermione did her best to focus, she knew her aim was off compared to previous days, and she hoped the instructor hadn't picked up on anything. She couldn't keep her mind from spinning over everything that had happened since the mission squad had returned to the camp the evening prior.
Finally, after what felt like several days, their training schedule came to an end. It wasn't their day to work in the food tent, so Hermione and Draco drifted towards the creek to quell the heat of the afternoon and the strain from their end of day strength training.
They sat along the edge of the creek, letting their bare feet dangle into the water, and Draco took her hand into his, entwining their fingers. It was a peaceful moment, and they were few and far between so she allowed herself a moment to bask in the simplicity of it.
When Draco tensed, she followed his gaze to see Nott lingering near the bend in the creek where it curved off into the woods.
Ducking in, he pressed a lingering kiss to her temple and murmured, "If something feels off, we get out."
Flashing him a doleful smile, she nodded and briefly leaned into his side before rising to her feet and slipping her shoes back on. They had left their packs ready to go inside their tent, but there was no cause for them to have them at the creek. If they needed to make a sudden run for it, they would simply have to go without their things and hope they could get far enough away before the perimeter guards caught them.
The plan could backfire in so many ways, and nerves crept up along her spine as they casually meandered in the direction Nott had vanished.
Hermione was grateful for Draco's reassuring presence at her side; she had to force herself to believe it would all work out.
At a sharp hiss, she looked up, just barely managing to make out Nott's form through the thick brush as they ventured towards him.
"When are you leaving?" Nott asked by way of greeting, staring between them with an expectant lift to his brows.
Hesitant, Hermione exchanged a glance with Draco. "When we have as much information as we need."
Nott rolled his eyes. "I have more information than you lot will dig up."
Draco levied a sigh, leaning back against a nearby tree. "Excuse us if we don't instantly trust you. We need information about the device and how it activates."
"I know." Nott's tone bordered on irreverent. "I don't expect you to trust me—but we're working towards the same end. I was sent in here by Riddle, I'll grant you that, but that doesn't mean I've been passing him what he needs."
"Sounds dangerous," Hermione mused.
His eyes flashed towards hers. "It is. Which is why I need an out. He'll grow suspicious of my information sooner than later."
It certainly explained why he was in a rush to leave the Collective. Hermione felt a tinge of regret for the people they'd come to know, and those who had helped them out. Some of the Muggles had begun to feel like friends.
But she was reminded of the hissed conversation that morning in the woods. Naylen still wasn't sure he could trust them. Their days were numbered, and even in this world, her loyalty was to Harry and the Order.
"You know about the device?" Draco asked with skepticism, folding his arms. "Everything about it?"
"Draco." Nott huffed a laugh, clicking his tongue. "I was on the team that built it. Like I told you—I've been here for months—I have more information than you can imagine."
Hermione sucked in a breath, exchanging a glance with Draco. He was a more shrewd judge of character, and he stared hard at Nott for a moment before nodding. "Very well."
"I am willing to tell you and the Order everything I know." Nott stepped closer and dropped his voice. Hermione cast a look around them. "But as soon as Riddle learns I've betrayed him, he'll be after my blood. I need a guarantee the Order can offer me safety."
Adrenaline spiked in her veins at the thought, and Hermione forced a thick swallow. They didn't know enough about the Order in this timeline, but they'd obviously held their own this long in a vicious and sustained war.
But Nott's information could prove priceless in ending the war.
"I can't make promises on others' behalf," she breathed, "but I know the Order is strong. And if you're willing to divulge information about the device and Riddle's forces, they'll do everything they can."
With a grimace, he nodded. "That'll have to be good enough. It is war, after all."
"So," Draco said quietly, exchanging a glance with each of them in turn. "Are we doing this tonight?"
Steeling her courage, Hermione nodded. It was a change in circumstances from what they'd expected, but she had to believe Nott was telling the truth—or by bringing a Death Eater into the Order they could be ensuring everyone's demise.
"Fine," Nott whispered. "There's a gap in patrols between a quarter to ten and quarter past. It will be our best shot to slip past undetected. And for Merlin's sake, don't do anything to draw attention to yourselves between now and then. Meet me here and I'll get you out."
Dinner was fraught with tension, though Hermione did her best to school her fears behind a banal facade. They'd rolled up their sleeping bags and left the tent as they'd found it after returning from their clandestine meeting in the woods with Nott.
It was the least they could do.
Hermione couldn't help the creeping suspicion that something was going to go wrong. Even if they made it safely through the Collective's perimeter, and even if Nott was telling the truth, she couldn't imagine Naylen's vengeance would go unmet if he learned he'd been deceived.
They had determined it would mount the least interest if they stayed with the group after dinner, so they took up a spot on one of the log benches near the large fire pit, watching as the sun dropped below the horizon, the sky inching towards purples and indigoes before finally falling pitch.
Hermione caught Draco's gaze, the bright flare of the fire dancing in his eyes. Stifling a wide yawn, he glanced at his watch before offering her a heated stare and coiling his arm around her.
"Just about time to turn in, I think." He spoke loudly enough for the people immediately around them to hear. "Been a long day."
Offering her agreement, Hermione rose to her feet with a small wave, and they ventured towards the tent in silence.
With careful, precise movements, so as not to rustle anything, given their tent was close to the common area, they gathered their things, loading up with the weapons they'd seized from the Muggles near her old flat. Unzipping the tent, Draco peeked through the flaps, his eyes narrowing in the darkness before he stepped out. He quickly zipped the door closed once more when she followed him through.
As he met her stare with a sharp nod, he led her between the tents, their steps careful. A soft breath of relief escaped her lips when they breached the treeline near the creek.
At some point between the creek and where they had met with Nott after training, he fell into step silently alongside them with a stern nod. Hermione could see the hard clench of his jaw in the hints of moonlight filtering through the canopy above, and idly she wondered whether he was nervous too.
"Wands?" he hissed, casting them a sidelong glance.
"Not on us," Draco whispered. "Couldn't risk it."
Hermione knew it wasn't technically a lie. Though why Draco was reluctant to tell Nott where their wands were stored, she wasn't sure. She knew their wands were in the forest, but following Draco's lead, she remained silent. They wouldn't have a chance to retrieve them yet anyway, with the limited window to escape.
Nott nodded. "Good. The device covers a wider range than you'd think."
"How are we getting out?" Hermione winced as a branch snapped between her feet.
Nott's arm flew out in front of them and he took cover behind a sturdy trunk; Hermione and Draco followed suit, ducking down into the thick brush. Several moments later, the heavy footfalls of two men went by, and she caught their shadows through the trees, hefty sidearms strapped to their sides.
Glancing at Draco's watch, Hermione noted it was a few minutes past when Nott had suggested the gap in patrols began. If he had been honest with them, they would have a half an hour before the next patrol came through the area. When they caught Nott's stare, he gestured ahead with two fingers and ventured forward once more.
With a grimace, Hermione followed, Draco at her side.
They walked for another fifteen minutes, blindly trusting that Nott wasn't about to betray them, before he stopped dead in a small clearing, staring at several trees. Apparently satisfied, he approached one, reaching into a hollow in the trunk and withdrawing a wand.
Casting them both a look, he reached further into the hollow, his entire arm swallowed up in the trunk, before he extracted what looked to be a rusty spoon.
He flashed them a grin and Draco murmured, "Portkey?"
As Nott cast a quick Portus, the spoon glowed blue, and Hermione was struck with the idea that he'd done this more than once. Presumably to report in with Riddle.
"Where is it going?" she asked, exchanging a cautious glance with Draco. For all they knew Nott was leading them into a trap, and she didn't relish the thought of taking hold of an unknown Portkey from someone she didn't quite trust.
"Away from here." Nott glanced up to meet her stare. "That's all you should care about right now. It will take us somewhere safe for the night, and tomorrow you're taking me to see the Order."
The reminder of his intentions did little to quell her unease, and she dragged Draco away.
"What do you think?" she whispered.
Sweeping a hand through his hair, he grimaced and replied, "I don't think we have a choice. We won't be able to walk back to London on foot and our wands are still stored in that tree on the other side of the camp. I wasn't sure if we should tell him that." He met her eyes, his gaze hard. "If we don't trust Theo, we need to decide right now."
They both knew it was hardly an option anymore. Nott had a wand in his hand, and while they had Muggle weapons, their own wands were hidden too far away, and he could drop them dead by the time they were able to attack if he wanted to.
Hermione breathed, "I guess we have to trust him."
Nott was leaning against a tree, eyeing his fingernails and twirling his wand in one hand, when they returned. She caught his point loud and clear and stepped forward with a nod.
"Safety tonight, and we'll take you to the Order tomorrow," she confirmed. "That's the deal."
"Great." Pushing off from the tree, Nott waved a hand at the Portkey. "For the record, if I wanted you dead I'd have drowned you in the creek this morning. And if I wanted to betray you, I would have just given you over to Naylen."
The flippant assessment of their circumstances did little to settle her nerves; in fact, it only served to remind her how much power Nott had over them in that moment.
Nott tapped the spoon with his wand once more, brandishing it out towards them. "It's set to go in one minute."
Taking Draco's hand in hers for reassurance, Hermione placed a finger on the spoon, and with a flicker of a glance, he followed suit. The old spoon pulsed the seconds as it counted down to its departure, and suddenly Nott's eyes snapped up at a rustling in the woods.
"I thought you said the patrols weren't due for another ten minutes," Draco growled, swivelling his head around.
"They aren't," Nott snapped back. "Something must have tipped them off."
Hermione could hear shouting, but she forced herself to focus on the Portkey, even as doubts swirled in the back of her mind. But she believed Nott; he would be just as incriminated if the three of them were caught out here, and he was the one holding a wand.
The steps drew closer and Draco's hand tightened in hers. A man broke through the trees, levelling a gun in their direction just as the Portkey flared, pulling them into a twist of magic with a bright flash of blue.