With no sleep and adrenaline running through her veins, Hermione was bouncing on the balls of her feet with anxiety and anticipation as she awaited further instruction and information. Professor McGonagall had taken her to Number 12 Grimmauld Place and told her that some of the others would be joining soon - there was some final strategizing to be done before they set out to Hogsmeade in the morning.
Kingsley Shacklebolt had been at the headquarters to greet her. "Hermione. It's good to see you," he said as he lowered his head.
She looked around the entryway to the old house and felt warm - it had been awhile since she'd been here. A while since things were 'normal'. "In different circumstances I would return that sentiment," she replied melancholily. "I imagine tonight and tomorrow will be less than pleasant for us."
Kingsley folded his hands over each other as he took her in with his eyes, anxious energy and all. He let out a slow breath as he stepped back and extended an arm out, directing her into the dining room. "You seem to be feeling a bit distressed. Why don't you take a seat and I'll fetch you a cup of tea."
"A cuppa would be nice, thank you," she said with a nod as she strode past him and pushed through the dining room doors. Upon entering, she noticed several seats were already taken. At the table sat Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks, and an older wizard who struck Hermione as being very familiar.
"Wotcher, Hermione!" Tonks exclaimed as she leapt from her seat and ran around the table toward her, pulling her into a tight hug. "We're so happy to have you here."
Hermione quirked an eyebrow. Happy to have her here to… fight? Sacrifice herself? She took a deep breath and smiled. She knew Tonks meant well. "It's good to see you too, Tonks. Remus," she nodded in the direction of her former professor. He smiled solemnly and nodded, but did not say a word. "Who else are we waiting on?"
"Just a few other volunteers to help lead the charge," Tonks replied as she grabbed Hermione's hand and dragged her to a seat beside where she had been plopped down earlier.
"Is this going to be everyone for tomorrow, then?" Hermione felt her stomach twist in a knot of dread - there didn't seem to be that many of them for a fight like this.
"No," the older wizard chimed in from the far end of the table. "Something like 30 kids have been enlisted," he grumbled disapprovingly.
"Kids?" Hermione questioned with her eyebrows raised. Her eyes flickered between Tonks and Remus. "What does he mean kids?"
"Not actual kids, Hermione," Remus assured. "The old man has just lost his gauge of age."
"I know what kids are, and the witches and wizards you lot have fighting - those are kids." The wizard leaned forward and Hermione caught a glimmer in his blue eyes. Her heart froze - she recognized them. She recognized that nose and she recognized that beard. He reached out a spindly finger and pointed it at her. "They're all like that one - they're kids."
"Professor Dumbledore?" She hesitated as she questioned, leaning forward to get a better look. "You look just like Professor Dumbledore, are you…" she trailed off as a very unfamiliar expression crossed the wizard's face. He suddenly looked nothing like the great wizard she once knew.
"You're mistaken," he clipped lowly. Hermione felt Tonks squeeze her hand and she took that as a signal to ask no further questions. Luckily, Professor McGonagall had returned with three other people. Three people she definitely knew.
In walked Justin Finch-Fletchley, Terry Boot, and Hannah Abbott. Hermione immediately noted that all three of them were also her age and were also Muggle-born students, like her. Well, former students - no Muggle-born students had been allowed to return back to Hogwarts this year.
Maybe the old man was right about his "kids" comment.
When the three of them caught sight of her, they nodded in acknowledgment, but spared her the smiles. They all understood what they were here to do. They all understood that things were only going to get worse from here on out.
"Alright," Professor McGonagall called attention to the front of the room. "Shall we?"
The plan was supposedly simple. Hermione, Lupin, Tonks, Justin, Hannah, and Terry would act as "battalion" leads for groups of six fighters, including themselves. The old man that had joined them for strategizing at Grimmauld Place turned out to be the owner of the Hog's Head Inn - a seedy pub and inn that Hermione had forgotten even existed. With the help of this man, the groups would be led into a tunnel system that secretly ran beneath the small village.
When the Death Eater's arrived, a Caterwauling Charm would signal the groups to attack. Hermione and her group were stationed nearby the road to Hogwarts, their tunnel exiting within a small, unsuspecting toolshed. The six groups would emerge with a fury and wrath that can only be possessed when they knew what they were there to do. The groups would push the Death Eaters from the outside in and force them to retreat. If all went as planned, no one would get hurt and they would have secured Hogsmeade for the time being.
Hermione had still not heard a single thought from Malfoy today and she began to worry. Was something wrong? She would have thought that he would be awake by now, but she was unable to connect with him. She knew he wasn't dead, because she could still feel the hum of his presence, but he hadn't had one thought in hours.
She shook her head and pulled herself back into the zone - if anything, she was grateful for the fact that she had one less thing to distract her from her mission.
The tunnel her group was situated in was dark and damp. The humid heat stifled the area and the curls on the back of Hermione's neck expanded uncomfortably against her slick skin. The six of them held their wands upward to illuminate the small space and Hermione was able to register each of their faces. While she recognized one of her group members to be Colin Creevey, she could not place the rest. All she knew was that, at least for her six, the old wizard had been right. No one with her was a day older than twenty-five, and that was being generous. She felt her breakfast spoil in her stomach.
Hermione cleared her throat and mustered up the courage to push past her own fear to motivate the others. "No one knows how today is going to go," she began as her eyes scanned across the heavily illuminated faces that accompanied her. "But I do know that we have something to fight for. We have the leap on them. And we have the support of the Order on our side."
"We have you," a girl spoke with a shaky voice. Hermione turned to look at her and furrowed her brows. "You understand what we are here to fight for."
"So do the others," Hermione said, trying to instill confidence in her group. "Remus, Tonks, Justin - they all do."
"Justin, Hannah and Terry do," another voice chimed in, this time a male voice. He couldn't have been older than 19. "Us Muggle-borns know if we don't fight, we'll die. Might as well die fighting for something better."
Hermione paused. She was quiet for a moment while she calculated the meaning of what this young man was saying. "Wait - are you all Muggle-born?" she asked incredulously.
There was a pause. Colin Creevey cleared his throat. "All of the volunteers are. We've been kicked out of Hogwarts, fired from our jobs, and banished from our homes. If we can't be used to infiltrate the system, we fight."
Hermione felt like she was going to be sick. Were Muggle-borns being used as… being used as pawns? She opened her mouth to reply, but before she could get a word out, a high pitched scream filled the air. They were here.
It was chaos. It was chaos and bloodshed and death and he wasn't even there. Draco was pacing back and forth across his room as Granger's mind was overtaken by rapid fire incantations and assessments of what was going on just outside the castle walls. Walls that served as the jail cell he was being held captive in by his own cowardice.
From what he could tell, there were only about fifteen Death Eaters deployed to the scene and they didn't hold back any punches. They were aiming to maim and kill in anyway they could. It was nothing like what had happened at the Ministry in Fifth Year, if Hermione's memories were anything to go by. The visualizations of the battle taking place inside her head was beyond brutal. It was so vivid that he felt as though he were there.
From the moment the Caterwauler went off, she was leading the charge out of the gate, her group of Mudblood fury fighters blindly following her lead. Granger had reached into her bag and taken out a small white vial and palmed it in her sweaty hand. It was a potion she had been working on for several weeks - a Flash Fire, as she called it.
As the Death Eaters approached her group, Granger threw the vial and their feet. If the potion were to work as intended, the Death Eaters would be momentarily blinded and the crew would be able to bind them. Luckily for her, it had worked. Her group had successfully been able to bind six Death Eaters. It was one of the other groups responsibility to capture them.
Draco's body felt both hot and cold as he saw her vision of the Death Eaters in his own mind - the pain of his former potential causing him to feel as though he might spill his stomach. They were aiming to kill her and it felt as though they were aiming to kill him. He felt his chest cave as he realized that this is exactly what he would see before he died if he ever went back. It was haunting.
And kill they did. Over and over and over. From Granger's point of view, she caught at least four deaths - one from her own battalion. All Muggle-born. Only Colin Creevey was left fighting with her.
'All Muggle-born.'
Her brain repeated this over and over as she fought with her life and soul to protect what was left of the soldiers on her side.. She couldn't care less about "securing" Hogsmeade anymore - she needed to protect them. Her rage was palpable - Draco could taste the venom dripping from her thoughts.
'How is this any different?' she thought. 'This is an extermination of its own right.'
Draco snarled in agreement with her - how was this any different than what the Death Eaters were planning for them? At least the Death Eaters were open about their intentions. The Order? It seemed the Order didn't even know the sacrifice they were making. A sacrifice that wasn't theirs to give. And Granger's battalion? They were put right in the main line of fire.
The pit in Draco's stomach wouldn't dissolve - he couldn't pull his mind away from her and her fight. He wasn't sure what this feeling was he had towards her at this moment. All he knew was that for some reason he really wanted her to run away. He wanted her to hide. He wanted her… he wanted her to be like him - just this once he wanted to see a little bit of himself in her.
But she wasn't a coward. She wouldn't reflect one of the worst parts of him and abandon ship. Here she was, looking death in the face from both sides and saying "fuck off". Here she was putting her life on the line to try to save the others. He could never understand.
Suddenly, a surge of pain rang through Draco's skull as he felt Granger get shot with a wicked hex. He felt his chest burst into flames as he recognized the agony down do the drip on the burning blood on her skin. She'd been struck by a Sectumsempra curse - there were very few curses more cruel and torturous as this one. Draco was hyperventilating as memories of his own experience with the curse just a few months back flooded his mind. Blood pooling on the washroom floor as water from the burst pipes washed it away with bits and pieces of his life force. When he came to, he noticed that he had been crying and he hadn't even realized it.
Suddenly, his thoughts were washed away by hers. She was scared - he'd heard many of her thoughts. He'd listened to her silly fears, her nerves, her anxiety. But he'd never heard her like this.
'I'm going to die alone,' she thought as she fought to catch her breath. 'I am going to die alone and my parents will never remember me.'
A sob ripped out of Draco's mouth as he found himself empathizing with her completely. He had felt that down to his core. He couldn't let her die - he couldn't let her die alone.
'You're not going to die, you silly girl,' he directed his thought at her, forcing himself to sound comforting in jovial. His real feelings were nothing of the sort - but in that moment, he knew that she didn't need to hear his fear. 'You've always been too stubborn to be killed - trust me, I've tried.'
Her panicked thoughts began to dissipate as she filled with whatever warmth she had left. She didn't respond to him, but he knew she felt accompanied and that made her feel better. Even if it was just him.
A flash of blond. A flash of blond in her mind and Draco went cold. Granger had opened her eyes and her mind visualized two soulless blue orbs and a flash of long blond hair. It couldn't be...
"Filthy little girl." Draco froze over completely. "I hope you find no peace in death -"
Her mind went black.
Draco jumped to his feet and without thinking, he ran out of his hideaway in the castle. Granger just died. Granger just died and his father had killed her. The father he thought had been condemned due to his failure. The father he thought would fight for him if he ever escaped. The father continued supported the man who would have his only son killed if he knew he was alive.
Draco was going to find his father and he was going to kill him himself.
As Draco twisted and turned throughout the empty, echoing halls of the castle, he carelessly made his way into the main hall. Just as he grabbed the door to step out, he felt himself freeze. He'd been struck by a non verbal binding charm.
"You stupid, insolent boy," the familiar voice drawled in a simmering anger. "You'll get us both killed! What is the matter with you?"
Snape ran up to him and grabbed him by the nape of his neck, dragging his frozen body towards an empty corridor. Unbinding him, Snape was quick to restrain him and push him up against a wall. As Draco thrashed and rocked in resistance, Snape held him tighter and closer until he finally stopped and broke down into tears.
"She's dead," he said through the thundering sobs. "She's dead and he killed her!"
"She's not dead," Snape said coldly. "If the 'she' you are referring to is Miss Granger, then she is not dead. Take a moment to breathe."
Draco's eyes opened and stared into the dark irises before him. Severus Snape had never looked so honest in his life. Draco took several calming breaths.
"Now think for a moment. She may be silent, but you should still feel her, yes? Your bond should allow you to feel with her presence, according to what I read about the Wishbone."
It was subtle, it was quiet, but it was there. She was there. This must be what she felt when he was blocking her out. What she was worried about earlier. "How? The last thing she saw was my…" Draco's face twisted in disgust, "my father."
"Your father was out there, yes. But rest assured that he did not kill Hermione Granger and that is all you need to know."
Draco scoffed and pushed his former potions professor off of him. "All I need to know? I've been rotting in that damned dungeon for months - for months! Thinking that my father was the one 'rotting away' in Azkaban because of me. Thinking that he'd have to escape and run away because he would be killed - because how could he continue to support that - that monster who would have his only son killed without a second thought? For all he knows, I'm bloody dead!"
Snape took a step back and crossed his arms. "I won't begin to pretend I have any interest in the inner workings of the Malfoy family dynamic," he began, "but all I will say is that choosing between what is right and what one must do to survive is not the easiest choice to make. You of all people should know that."
"I fucking know, obviously - and I didn't kill the old git!"
"Didn't or couldn't?"
Draco paused before scoffing and turning away. "I'm his son."
"I won't say he's not a coward."
There was a beat of silence. "There's nothing I can do," Draco mumbled quietly.
Snape took a deep breath before turning away. "Not that you can bring yourself to do yet. For now, it's best that you go back to your quarters. The girl is alive and that is all that matters today."
After a moment of silence, Draco nodded. Without another word, he rolled his shoulders before walking away from the dark wizard. Snape was right - there was only one thing that mattered today. She was alive. She was alive and he could actually get some sleep.
Hermione woke up in a daze. She found herself in her bed inside the cottage she had been staying at for the past few months. She groaned as she moved her head to assess her surroundings. At her kitchen table sat Professor McGonagall.
"Oh, Hermione," she exclaimed when she noticed that the younger witch had woken up. "We've been so worried about you."
"How many?" she croaked, her throat dry from whatever potions they'd fed her to speed up her healing.
"The mission was a success," McGonagall diverted her question as she poured a glass of water for Hermione. "We were able to secure Hogsmeade for now."
"For now?" Hermione asked as she took the glass when it was offered to her. She was parched.
"The way things are going, we are bound to lose it at some point. You were aware of this. But as you know, it was critical for us to secure it now."
"How many?" she asked again as she attempted to sit up. She was still too weak for that.
Professor McGonagall pursed her lips as she looked over the window. With a sigh, she took a seat beside her bed. "Seven."
Hermione felt as if she were being dragged down further against her mattress. Her heart froze in torment. "Seven Muggle-borns," she growled in a low voice.
"Seven brave fighters."
"Did you know they were all Muggle-borns? All thirty 'brave fighters'?" Hermione was never one to beat around the bush.
"I'll be honest, Hermione. Everyone who was there today volunteered to be there. Everyone who is not in the Order, that is," McGonagall answered, knowing that Hermione had not volunteered. She had been recruited. How many others was that the truth for?
Hermione remained silent as she turned her head away. Tears came to her eyes. "They have no choice," she said quietly.
"What was that, my dear?"
Hermione turned back to her and laughed cynically. "If we don't fight, we'll be subject to mass extermination. If we do fight, we'll die, too - but at least for the greater good."
"Unfortunately, that is how it has to be for now."
"I think I'd like to be left alone. I'm sorry, Minerva, but I can't stand to be around you right now. Frankly, I am feeling disgusted with what happened today."
McGonagall nodded in understanding. "If it's any consolation, if we didn't secure Hogsmeade today, many more would have died."
It was and it wasn't at the same time. Hermione remained silent until McGonagall left her alone. As her memories of the battle returned to her, Hermione remembered two things very clearly.
Firstly, Lucius Malfoy was out of Azkaban and fighting "the good fight" again - despite the agony his imprisonment had put on his son. Despite the fact that the man he was "worshipping" would kill his one and only son without a second thought.
Secondly, Hermione noted that Malfoy had been with her the whole time - whether she had blocked him out while she was fighting or he had been lurking and cloaking his thoughts the entire time somehow (unlikely, as he would have told her if he could do this), he was there. When they both thought she was dying, and she thought she was going to die alone, he had joined her. He had felt enough compassion for her to make her feel like she was not alone. He was there for her.
When she was strong enough to get apparate again, she would be sure to visit him first thing.