For some reason, no one, including the Heads of the Houses, knew where Longbottom and Weasley could be found. Or rather Potter and Weasley, which was even more amazing. It turned out that Harry had already revealed his true appearance, causing rapture in the ranks of Hogwarts' defenders, but then had disappeared in an unknown direction. At the Ravenclaw Tower, where students and staff were fighting trolls, Hermione was told that the Boy-Who-Lived had gone to die heroically at the Divination Tower. Yet, at the aforementioned tower, where wizards were trying to drive Dementors away, she was told that he had gone to fight to his death at the Ravenclaw Tower. Ron, according to the most accurate data, had either made his way to the Order of the Phoenix, or gone to help Hagrid in the clash with the enemy giants. Hermione undertook another deadly run up the stairs, climbing the last defensive tower – the legendary Astronomy Tower, where the daredevil Gryffindorians were confronting dragons nose-diving onto the castle. There was not one, but a whole three Hungarian Horntails (or rather two and a half as one of them had lost its tail), so the brave Gryffindorians were having quite a struggle.
Ron Weasley was found by the merlons and looked quite belligerent. He stood in his singed school robes, wearing a ridiculous red-and-yellow-striped hat and an orange puffer jacket that had clearly once belonged to someone much bigger than him. Perhaps even Voldemort could see him from the Forbidden Forest as Weasley certainly resembled a semaphore and was, most likely, making it a lot easier to aim at the tower.
"Hi, Hermione," he said cheerfully, attacking a Horntail with spells. "Has the Order finally worked their way to us?"
The girl didn't immediately grasp what he was talking about, but then remembered how she had parted with her friends last night.
"No," she climbed close to an embrasure next to Ron and began helping him with the dragon. "I just didn't have time to leave."
"I see. Well, it's probably for the best," Ronald said. "More fun to fight together than apart, right?"
Two house-elves, who were actively contributing to the upcoming victory over the flying reptile, fully approved this idea. Hermione nodded in agreement too, scanning the surrounding landscape that could be seen from the Astronomy Tower. It was rather bleak: closer to the horizon she noticed flashes of spells lighting up the edge of the forest. The girl presumed that that was where the Order of the Phoenix was battling against the army of the Dark Lord. So, the Order was still far away, and the Lord had a very large army – its front ranks had moved out of the Forbidden Forest closer to the anti-apparition barrier. The cracks in Hogwarts' magical defence were visible to the naked eye. Near one of the particularly large gaps, centaurs were trying to hold back a squad of Voldemort's werewolves. Near another, Hagrid and five loyal giants brought by him under Dumbledore's instructions were fighting the Lord's giants, who outnumbered and outsized them. These two dangers alone – to be bitten by the werewolves and smashed by the heavy clubs of the giants – evoked sad thoughts. However, Hermione decided not to despair yet.
"Ron, where's Harry?" she asked anxiously.
"Gone to You-Know-Who," Weasley turned to her, his face smeared with soot and topped with the knitted hat pulled almost to his eyes. Red was definitely not his colour.
Running out of fire, the Horntail rose higher in the clouds to accumulate some more flame, giving the guys a couple of minutes of respite and the house-elves an opportunity to dance on the icy site of the tower in order to warm up.
"Alone? To fight?" Hermione felt a chill down her spine.
"Nah. To get the next Horcrux," Ron lowered his voice, glancing at the neighbouring embrasures. "He told me not to come with him. Said, there was no point. Besides, we still haven't finished off the previous Horcrux and that bastard has started the war!"
"Did you just let him go?" Hermione couldn't believe her ears.
"Sure, that's reasonable, isn't it?"
Hermione looked at her friend with even more amazement.
"I have to destroy the diadem, but I don't yet know how," the boy explained with concern. "I thought I'd come across something suitable while we were fighting. I've already tried dipping it into troll's blood and shoving it under dragon fire – no good. I've even tried getting into the library. Thought I could dig out something useful in the Restricted Section – surely it's not guarded right now. But half of the floor collapsed in there and the place is full of Dementors. I've never seen them so vicious!"
Library?! Hermione stopped being amazed and started becoming alert.
"Ron. And the new Horcrux? What is it?" she asked, gazing intently into her friend's face. She was beginning to get a feeling that someone had either possessed Ron Weasley or taken his form with Polyjuice Potion.
"It's Voldemort's snake," Ron replied busily. "How didn't we guess that earlier, Hermione? It's so obvious, isn't it?"
"His snake?" Hermione was abashed. "But how does Harry want to –"
"He doesn't, he simply hopes to find it, at least. Immobilize and steal it, if he's lucky. He hasn't decided yet as only last night... Oh, yes! You probably haven't heard about it yet! So, last night You-Know-Who got into Harry's head again. He was quite persistent; apparently it was a matter of urgency. Harry sucks at Occlumency, as you know perfectly well … He can't even set up a defence, let alone combine defensive tactic with an attacking one. In short, he could neither close his mind nor push the Lord out of it. And screamed terribly. I thought I'd turn grey. I tried this way and that, but what could I've done, really? The best I came up with was to knock Harry out with a chair. Pity it took me so long… I apologised to Harry later, of course, for the pretty nasty bump I left on his head, but he was even grateful to me as You-Know-Who had been thrown out of him nicely."
"But it was too late," Hermione looked around the burning Hogwarts.
"Yeah, it was. The Dark Lord saw everything about the Horcruxes. But Harry also had a peek at something in his dreggy mind. In short, Harry realised that You-Know-Who had flown to check all of his treasures and, as you understand, saw that most of them were gone. The last in his mental list was Nagini – that ugly snake that he drags along all the time," Ron scratched his forehead. "And then Harry suddenly went bonkers: 'I'll kill that slithery creep!' Don't know which one of them he actually meant, probably both. That's, of course, a bit greedy of him. We'd be lucky to get, at least, the snake for now… But the worse, as you understand, was yet to come –"
The guys sat down on the battlement to avoid being blown away by the wind. Their noses and hands were numb with cold, but they couldn't desert their post. There was no need to explain what the worst was, Hermione could see it in full view under her feet, but Ron chose to tell it in detail:
"The worst that Harry sneak-peeked in the Lord's mind was that You-Know-Who realised where he, Harry, was. It was then that the Dark Lord decided to go to war with Hogwarts. Harry said he saw it clearly – clearer than me or the sparks after being hit by a chair. How we scampered around the castle – you should have seen! First to McGonagall, then all over our tower, then to Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff! I thought I'd run myself to death! The DA was immediately assembled in the Room of Requirement, right in their pyjamas. We barely had time to send a message to the Order."
Hermione looked at her friend sympathetically. Insanity! And thanks to her stupid hysteria the headmaster's door had been enchanted with a silencing spell, so she and the professor had slept through all of that!
"In sum, we managed to sort of mobilize in the half an hour before the Lord's arrival," Ron resumed his story. "So, the Dark Lord and his army at our threshold and we had neither horse nor harness: Devil's Snare weren't brought to the towers, minors weren't evacuated yet… and Harry kept flipping out: 'My scar is splitting, I'm going for Gryffindor's sword, it's all the same now. If we get the sword, we'll chop both – the diadem and the snake.' The world was falling apart and he rushed to the Headmaster!"
"To the dungeons?" Hermione squeaked.
"Precisely!" Ronald shook his head accusingly. "I tried to reason with him. Told him that Snape wouldn't give us the sword and would probably kill us for his Pensieve, but Harry was stubborn: 'Let him try, I'll kill him myself! Besides, he went to Voldemort last night and never returned.' So, we dragged ourselves to the dungeons like idiots. That was when I regretted sending you to the Order, Hermione, as Snape's doors were still charmed with protection! We tried to disenchant them but couldn't remember what to do. And we couldn't check our notes either as that was when our tower collapsed. Luckily, Harry's fallen into the habit of not parting with the most important stuff even in his sleep: with his phoenix-feather wand; the Marauder's Map; his glasses; that snitch that Dumbledore had left him… But all our calculations and supply of the Polyjuice Potion were gone."
Hermione pressed her palm to her lips in horror, Ron nodded knowingly:
"So, Harry started moulting right next to Snape's door. I was so freaked out! Almost cried, begging that moron to get out – what if a Slytherin recognised him as Potter and dragged him to the Lord?! We just couldn't have had that as we still have two more Horcruxes to destroy! Luckily, all the Slytherins around us didn't pay us any attention, but Harry kept going on: 'We can't leave without the sword! We vitally need it. If Snape won't give us the sword, let's take him hostage and make him cast Fiendfyre!' I told him: 'If we don't leave now, he'd definitely cast it! Right on us through the door!' I tried to get it in his head that the most important thing was to steal the snake from You-Know-Who. We'd hide it together with the diadem and then could think through how to finish them off. I told him, that maybe Snape would die in the battle and then we'd open his doors without any fuss."
Hermione looked at him with sheer terror and wanted to say something, but Ronald waved his hand, indicating that he hadn't finished.
"Then half of the dungeons were ripped out," he continued his story. "Rumble and screams all around us, and that pillock was still banging on the door, yelling: 'I need the sword of Gryffindor!' I barely managed to lug him away. Promised, that we'd come back later. I asked Justin to be on guard there, without going into details, of course. I couldn't do it myself as I still have to destroy the diadem…"
The Horntail returned with refilled strength and the guys got to their feet to resume driving it away from the tower. At least it was not so cold near the dragon fire, because Hermione had already began freezing.
"By the way, do you know if Professor Snape is thinking of coming back? After all, you were the last one who saw him."
Hermione shook her head grimly. Should she tell Ron the truth? She didn't see a clear necessity to do so just yet.
"I believe he's with the Dark Lord right now," she said reluctantly.
"Pity," Ron sighed. "It'll be nice if the professor returns. He's on our side, after all. I think if we explain to him kindly that we need the sword to accomplish Dumbledore's task, he'll give it to us."
Staring at her friend with mystical horror, Hermione involuntary took a step away from him.
"What did you say, Ron? What makes you think that Professor Snape is on our side?"
"I gave some thought to our last conversation and I think, Hermione, you were right. See for yourself: considering, that no one, including Professor Snape, can kill You-Know-Who right now, our Headmaster hasn't made a single mistake. Most likely, he continues to act according to some kind of plan. Remember we saw an empty picture in his bedroom? I bet it was a portrait of Professor Dumbledore! What else could it be, really? It's not like Professor Snape is a fan of pictorial art, is it? Yes, he killed Dumbledore, but who can understand them, great wizards? Professor Dumbledore was old and sick, maybe they decided to use his death so Snape could establish credibility with the Dark Lord. It must be hard to please that bastard."
Hermione nearly fell of the battlement, grasping onto a merlon at the last moment. The Horntail spat fire so close to her that it scorched her hair. Ron deftly drove the beast away, extinguished sparks on his friend and, shaking his head reproachfully, gently reprimanded her:
"Stop gaping, scatterbrain! Do you want to lose your head?!"
"Ron… Who else have you told your speculations to?" Hermione hissed no worse than Snape, not paying the slightest attention to the dragon.
"What… speculations?" in a fit of temper, Ron flung the damn Horntail about a hundred feet away.
"About Professor Snape!"
Ronald wiped away his sweat, smearing soot all over his face, and glanced around the fighting platform of the tower.
"Well… So far, only to those who are here. It occurred to me not so long ago, after I parted from Harry and had time to think."
He was such an…
"Are you an idiot?!"
"Anything but," her friend said offendedly. "You're so hard to please, Hermione! Have you changed your mind already? You said it yourself not so long ago: Professor Snape did his best for all of us and for the school. So as not to be caught while doing so, of course. Besides, he taught us in a normal way, helping us to prepare for the battle," while continuing to draw logical conclusions, the boy was not taking his eyes off the dragon, sending one successful spell after another into the circling beast. Hermione was shocked – she could have never imagined that he was able to handle any of these tasks even individually.
"Do you think I'm wrong?" Ron asked resentfully. "I personally believe that the Headmaster set you detentions for a reason. He knew you'd pass onto us everything he taught you. And it's unlikely that he didn't notice you spying on him. But since he's on our side he could hardly send you to Carrow for this. I actually think Professor Snape fancies you in his specific way. Perhaps he even has a crush on you, Hermione."
"Ron!" Hermione felt like she was on the verge of fainting. "Enough about Professor Snape! Where's our Horcrux?!"
Ron blinked in amazement and sent another spell at the dragon. The Horntail choked on its own fire and went for a new circle, coughing.
"On me. Didn't I say?" Ron uttered warily. "Why are you shouting like that?"
This explained everything.
"Are you wearing a Horcrux?" Hermione refused to believe it.
"Why not?" Ron pulled his hat off, demonstrating the relic of Rowena Ravenclaw. "I'm not Harry: this thing doesn't give me headaches. And I thought it's safer to wear the diadem rather than put it in my jacket and lose it somewhere. This way it can only be torn off along with my head."
Hermione opened and closed her mouth several times, not knowing what to say. It was hard to switch promptly from Slytherin to Gryffindor. Ron, even multiplied by the unique properties of Rowena Ravenclaw's diadem, remained the same inimitable Ron. The relic had certainly added to his intelligence, but not prudence.
"I think you'd better take it off, to be on the safe side," the girl advised. "There is dark magic in it and –"
She didn't have time to finish as a gigantic fireball fell swiftly from the side of the enemy troops, making a huge hole in the defence and striking the central part of the castle. No doubt the work of the Dark Lord himself! The dust rose to the middle of the trembling Astronomy Tower.
"Merlin's beard…" Ron muttered in shock. "Good that no one was there, isn't it? That fireball crashed through all the floors right to the basement and –"
"Look at the sky, not at the ground!" Hermione shouted at him.
Ron hastily looked up, although he was pretty sure that the Horntail hadn't returned yet. However, it was not about the dragon, but the squads of Death Eaters rushing in on their brooms through the hole in the defence. All three towers immediately began to patch up the protective dome, but it was too late. At least twenty brooms were flying towards the Astronomy Tower alone.
"May Salazar bend them over his knee!" Ron swore, hurriedly getting off the crenellation and pulling Hermione along with him. "Whoa! That was a Welsh Green," he added knowledgeably.
The Death Eaters landed on top of the tower, accompanying their appearance with obscene cries and a halo of combat spells. The corpse of the Welsh Green, suddenly falling from the clouds, had broken their ranks a little on the way whilst Professor McGonagall, who was seen on a broom no more often than Snape, had cut off the leader of the attackers from his squad. However, all of this had only whetted the murderous appetite of the Marked Ones. Not wasting any time, they scattered from the centre along the radii with the clear intention of throwing the defenders off the battlement. Black cloaks, white masks. Crucio was the most merciful among their spells. Ron and Hermione tried their best to stick together, but they were quickly thrown apart by a well-aimed lunge of someone's wand. The Death Eaters kept arriving and were beginning to outnumber the defenders. Some of the Gryffindorians were already hanging in mid-air, writhing from torture; others lay, petrified, under the feet of the fighters. The house-elves were falling from the tower in bunches.
Hermione spun like an activated sneakoscope, fending off from all sides at once. She pressed her back against the stone turret leading to the stairs, so that at least her head would stop spinning. Her spells began to hit more accurately, although the girl was afraid to shoot outright. She was the only one who looked at the masked faces with a timid hope. Severus? Unlikely, of course – he had been told to stay close to the Dark Lord and had no idea where she was at this moment. It would be nice if she managed to walk down the Astronomy Tower to meet him rather than fall off it.
"Hey, Granger!" a familiar voice called her. Yet it wasn't the one she was yearning to hear.
Malfoy junior tore his mask off in a flamboyant gesture. So, he no longer hid even symbolically? Was he that confident in his Master's victory? Hermione was so tired of his melodramatic attitudinising over these seven years.
"What?!" she asked irritably as though Draco was just teasing her passing her desk.
"Want to pit yourself against me, Mudblood?"
"Impedimenta!" Hermione said generously. She had never liked him. And now, when he became a ferocious and insolent brute serving the Dark Lord, even less so.
"Quite bad," Malfoy grinned disgustingly, reflecting her jinx with ease. "Avada Kedavra!"
Oh, you little brat!
"Petrificus Totalus!" Hermione flicked her wand, dodging his curse.
Draco bounced away, barely missing her spell, swayed and turned towards her once again. His face was worse than a mask as he was unhealthily skinny. The Dark Lord was definitely cutting expenses on food for his servants. Why the hell this ferret chose to pick on her, really?
"Avada Kedavra!" – simple and effective.
Hermione jumped two steps aside and replied:
"Incarcerous!"
She really wanted to get rid of Malfoy and fight her way back to Ron, who was having a hard time in the very centre of the tower. He was still alive not so much due to his innate Gryffindor courage as to Ravenclaw's diadem. The boy was successfully coping with three Death Eaters at once, using white and dark magic alternately and, apparently, not realising what he was actually doing. The diadem prompted the optimal spells and Ronald cast them without a second thought. He had tossed his ski hat and puffer jacket aside and was bouncing around in his black school robes no worse than Snape – about twenty feet at a time. The Death Eaters were incensed with anger, but the young wizard, wearing the sparkling diadem in his red curls, was invincible. And beyond the reach not only for them, but for Hermione as well. Actually, it would be good for the girl to get under Ron's protection, because it seemed that Draco Malfoy had seriously decided to finish her off. Had he been looking for her on purpose?
"Avada Kedavra!"
Hermione backed towards the spiral stairs that formed the skeleton of the tower. A familiar greenish glow flew past her and someone screamed, hit by its fatal strike. A friend or a foe? She couldn't see and Draco didn't care.
"Avada Kedavra!"
Was it really his favourite spell? Though, why would he need any others? If he truly chose to curse her no need for excess verbiage.
Hiding around a twist of the spiral and waiting for the next 'Avada' flare to dissipate, Hermione wondered what tactic she could use in this empty and narrow stone pipe. Perhaps it was a mistake to leave the fighting platform, but it looked like Draco had driven her here deliberately. It was more convenient, of course, to attack her from above.
"Depulso!" she thrust her wand-holding hand around the turn and a few seconds later heard a thud of a body against the wall. Finally, a direct hit!
Hermione hastily darted upward, hoping to return to Ron, but Malfoy was already on his feet. Not paying any attention to his platinum hair being dyed with his blood, he suddenly changed his tactic:
"Levicorpus!"
Aw! She almost missed it, getting used to his monotonous 'Avada Kedavra', from which she could only dodge. This self-made jinx, however, could be reflected with a Shield Charm. Had he really thought she'd fail? Repulsed!
"Petrificus –" the girl began but was interrupted.
"Legilimens!"
Merlin's beard! Puzzled, Hermione covered her mind with Occlumency. She felt Draco's thrust, but it was no match for what she had experienced in the coniferous grove.
"Sectumsempra!"
Oh, you vicious brat! Just a little too late. Good that he hadn't been able to aim properly. Feeling as though her right shoulder was cut by a knife, Hermione nearly dropped her wand and hastily grabbed it with her left hand. Hiding around the next twist, she bit her lip and tried to assess the extent of her injury. It looked tolerable – a reasonably cushy wound, although the grey sleeve of her robes was already red with blood. What a nasty curse! Never mind, she'd sort it out later as the counter-spell required time.
"Sectumsempra!" Draco repeated above her head, obviously liking the effect.
A familiar touch was seen in his technique. Who had trained you, boy?
Hermione frantically waved her wand, casting Protego upon herself.
"Well done, Granger. You've really mastered it all," the Death Eater praised her.
May the Dark Lord smile like this at him!
"Don't you know too much for a Mudblood?"
"None of your business! Depulso!"
This time he reflected her charm without blinking.
Why, of course! Someone had been gathering unfortunate, doomed kids from both sides, had been teaching them magic, had been making Unbreakable Vows like the last blockhead on Earth and now she had to deal with the result! Wasn't it clear that nothing worthwhile would ever grow out of Lucius Malfoy's son? Someone really had to work on his skills for choosing friends! Look at hers, for comparison: Ron – a fine fellow, or Harry – no trouble at all and a sweet temper.
"You think you are the most cunning, huh? Got in with a Death Eater and no one will touch you? Crucio!"
"Protego, freak!"
Her spell, amplified by her emotional outburst, threw Draco backwards, giving Hermione an opportunity to run down a few more twists of the spiral stairs. What did he mean? For the second time during the day her classmates had shown supernatural perspicacity in something that had been news of the last several hours even to herself! Ron was understandable – he was wearing the diadem. But Malfoy? Hermione doubted that Severus, having flown into Voldemort's camp, had begun boasting of his love conquests. How did Draco know then?
"So, it's true!" came from above; his words were mixed with a guffaw. "You are both nuts! Everybody will die laughing!"
No, he didn't know anything. He was simply clowning around as always.
"Shout louder so everyone upstairs can hear," Hermione advised, continuing to carefully descend. "I want to have witnesses so you can't wriggle out later."
There was a pause from above, longer than one might have expected. Taking advantage of this sudden respite, Hermione sipped on a Blood-Replenishing Potion – good that she still had some in her pocket. The respite, however, begun to protract. The girl even thought that her words had frightened her adversary so much that he had fled. As if! Draco appeared silently at the next turn of the spiral. So, he had simply been creeping up on her.
"Stupefy!" he said hastily.
Hermione managed to partially cover herself, but she still stumbled and fell onto the steps.
"I'll shout," the little git promised softly, "at the Lord's. In fact, I'll just whisper."
This was absolutely unnecessary, especially after yesterday's Sectumsempra. But what exactly could he say?
"This is not funny, Draco!" she jumped to her feet.
"And who's laughing? Are you scared?" Malfoy switched to nonverbal spells so that they wouldn't interfere with his speaking. "Why teach a Mudblood offensive magic? Why be locked in with her every evening? Why wander through the forest with her, casting Fiendfyre?"
Hermione went numb, which was very inappropriate, considering that she had to defend herself. Had Draco been spying on them? Had it just been a game of his twisted mind or a Dark Lord assignment? If the latter, they'd kill the professor. Or had already killed.
"Scoundrel! He's a friend of your father! He saved your skin!"
"Did I ask him to?" Draco turned red, which was especially noticeable on his pale skin. He put magic aside for a while and was simply yelling. "It's so sweet that you're protecting him – more proof! And don't you dare talk about my father! Snape set him up! He didn't go for the prophecy himself, knowing that there would be an ambush in the Ministry! And then he wanted to get rid of me in the same way!"
This could very well be true, Draco. Aren't you a smart boy? Fifty points to Slytherin. And add another hundred for grasping the essence of this intrigue. Deep down inside, with a hopeless sadness, Hermione understood: she could not allow him to stay alive. Pity.
"He was the one who'd pitched the idea to the Dark Lord that I should take care of Dumbledore. I know it! No one else could have done that! And then he relished watching my mother grovelling at his feet in that Muggle fleapit. My aunt is still retching!"
What a lost cause. Yet it seemed that Draco was doing his best not for his mother's sake and not even for his father's. No, Malfoy junior was clearly fighting for his own place in the… darkness. Hermione took advantage of the respite to wipe away her tears with her wand-holding hand. Her other hand was still in a lot of pain. Stop! What did he say? More details about fleapit and your aunty, Draco, if you don't mind!
"What the hell are you talking about? Did your aunt visit Professor Snape's house?"
"Jealous, are you?" the young man leaned against the wall, grinning mockingly. "Are you off your rocker, Mudblood?! My aunt is a Lestrange! And a Black! She'd vomit! She was there just once to persuade my idiot mother not to disgrace herself. Did you think Snape was a pure-blood? Miscalculated! His blood is not much cleaner than yours. You are probably the last one who doesn't know that he's a mongrel. He crawled out of the nastiest Muggle cesspool. So don't expect protection from him! The Master will leave only the purest blood, and all the bastar–"
Hermione hurled a spell at Malfoy with all her might. Non-verbally. She just couldn't listen to any more talk about bastards and cowardly bats. Or unclean blood. She didn't really expect this curse to work as she had never used it before, had only heard it once in her childhood. However, Draco instantly shut up and gasped for air. Served him right! There was not a trace of sympathy in Hermione. She wished she could rip out his dirty tongue but being too harsh was discouraged in Gryffindor. While Draco was spitting out the first string of slugs, the girl slowly walked towards him. Retreating up the steps, Malfoy honestly tried to defend himself, but he could neither say anything nor aim properly and therefore he was not a match on his previous self any longer.
"Stupefy!" said Hermione. It worked.
Draco fell, clearing her way; but the girl, of course, couldn't simply walk away, leaving him to himself… and to the slugs. The first dozen of the slimy sickening brown creatures were already crawling down the steps. Hermione moved aside with disgust, giving them way. Draco would never forgive her for this; on the other hand, they hadn't gotten along, even before.
"Expelliarmus!" she had to repeat it three times as her first two attempts Malfoy managed to deflect. What a powerful wizard he had become. But a nasty one.
"Petrificus Totalus!"
Oh, no! He'd suffocate this way!
The compassionate Hermione hastily removed the Body Freezing curse, giving her adversary a temporary respite, though without lowering her wand.
The Death Eater continued spitting slugs, staring at the girl with pure hatred. He was trying to call her a Mudblood but was managing only 'Mud… mud… mud…' Hermione racked her brain, wondering which spell to use next. She had to run to her allies and take care of the Horcrux. Besides, she really needed to heal her arm, because she had already started feeling quite dizzy and that wouldn't do as the battle had barely begun. But instead, she was wasting time with this vengeful little serpent. Why, why no one wanted to admit that Professor Snape was the bravest, the knightliest, the smartest? How sweet and tender he was with her. How affectionately he had said 'Avada Kedavra' before they had parted. No one could say it like him!
"Avada…"
Draco's eyes widened with horror, and he seemed to swallow a couple of slugs.
"Bite me," Hermione snapped tiredly. "Finite Incantatem! Imperio!"
Then everything went dark, and Hermione slid down the rough stone wall, sinking onto a step. Draco jumped to his feet, picked up his wand and rushed away, but it didn't matter… Nothing mattered anymore because Hermione was on the verge of losing consciousness. She sat for a few seconds with her head down, trying to recover a little. She couldn't die so stupidly – bleeding to death in the midst of a magic castle full of her friends. Severus would never forgive her for this. He had forbidden her to die a third time; and it was safer to obey Professor Snape or he'd kill her as he'd promised. With great effort Hermione took a little bit more of the Blood-Replenishing Potion – just a sip as it surely would be needed again if the battle continued at this rate. Feeling a bit better, she pulled, from another pocket, the page torn from the notebook of her gifted wizard. The page was dirty and glued in half by his (and now hers, too) blood. Viscera viscera versus, sanguis sanguis versus… It was difficult to read by torchlight, and her left hand was not very successful at magic passes – how utterly inconvenient military life was! But somehow she managed. Fortunately, her wound was shallow – just a cut along the entire length of her right arm. It skinned over and that was the main thing. She'd heal it completely later on. Right now Hermione was more worried about Malfoy being left unattended – how was he doing without her? Was he up to his old tricks?
Still staggering from blood loss, the girl climbed to the top of the tower. The battle was in full swing. An umpteenth Avada Kedavra smashed to smithereens above her head, followed by the clear voice of Draco Malfoy:
"Sorry, Hermione. Wasn't aiming at you!"
Everything was fine. Standing in the thick of the action back-to-back, Ron and Draco were throwing Voldemort's assault troops right and left. Ronald was still wearing the diadem, which meant he was on fire. Draco didn't have such an advantage, but he had versed himself in dark magic. His Expulsos were throwing the Death Eaters one way and Sectumsempras the other.
The two surviving dragons kept occasionally nosediving from the clouds, but everyone had already got used to them – both, the attackers and defenders, deftly dodged their fiery streams. Spooky, who had somehow freed himself from the Room of Requirement, fluttered above the Astronomy Tower with the grace of a drunken cow. He was goring the dragons with keen interest, preventing them from shooting straight. Apparently, this was the mysterious fighting power of the unknown beast. Dragon fire didn't bother Spooky in the least and he stayed quite indifferent to the blows of the spiked tails. Besides, at his approach, the Death Eaters' hands were beginning to tremble and their knees buckle. Hermione didn't blame them: to calmly look at the bizarre creature in daylight, it was necessary to get used to him first.
While Hermione had been hiding in the tower, the defenders had made the odds even and now there were as many of them as the Death Eaters. McGonagall and Antonin Dolohov, who had lost his mask, managed to land and were circling in the centre of the platform, showering each other with magical gushes of light of overwhelming power. The air heated up between them, melting the stones. Each of them was determined to fight to the death and neither was going to step down. In the next moment a well-aimed Stupefy, which had come with Slytherin cunning from behind, knocked Dolohov down. The Death Eater immediately restored his shield and attacked the newly-minted Headmistress with redoubled fury. However, McGonagall had already reached the stage of an angry cat and was not going to miss the advantage she had miraculously gained. Dolohov switched to defence and began backing towards the crenellation.
"I'll remember this, Draco!" he yelled. "Two-faced snake! Saw your dear school and betrayed the Dark Lord? How's your Mark? Not burning yet?"
Draco, shamelessly maiming his own comrades, threw another white mask from the battlement and turned towards Dolohov, straightening up to his full height in an embrasure.
"You're a moron, Antonin!" he replied in a ringing voice. "I never wanted to serve the Lord! But then he would have immediately found someone else to take care of Dumbledore," he interrupted himself for a second, sending Avada Kedavra to another white mask, and then summed up: "Rot in hell, you freaks!"
Hermione finally reached Ron, hexing and jinxing enemies along the way. Ronald stared in horror at her shredded, bloody robes, but the girl brushed him off.
"It's healed. How're you doing?"
"Coping," Ron answered modestly. He didn't have a scratch, and even the diadem on top of his head was not askew. "Excellent Imperius," he whispered knowingly, nodding at Draco.
"Shhh," Hermione responded conspiratorially. "I thought it wouldn't hurt to have an extra good wizard on our side. When we win, he might even thank me – maybe he'll get a shorter term in Azkaban."
"Sure. And, unlike his father, he won't even be lying, claiming that he was acting under Imperius!" Ron chuckled. "Are the Malfoys going to get off the hook again?"
McGonagall confirmed this assumption as soon as she immobilised Dolohov at the very crenellation.
"Have no fear, Mr Malfoy," she shouted to the defector. "We'll all warrant you have faithfully defended Hogwarts. Voldemort won't last much longer anyway!"
"Thank you, Headmistress," the young man replied with a charming smile.
Viewed from this angle, he seemed quite handsome. Having removed his Death Eater cloak, he remained just in black jeans and a woollen sweater with rolled-up sleeves. A painting, not a boy: bright eyes, dexterous movements, one of the oldest and purest families with age-old selection. However, Hermione had already made her choice in the ranks of Slytherin and she was not going to change it. Besides, it'd be a pity if a signature Sectumsempra became a fatal spell for Draco. After all, the obnoxious boy was trying so hard to help them, was even risking his life.
She had to distract herself from her newly-made friend Draco and focus on good old Ron as he needed help. Attracted by the glitter of the diadem, Spooky, with languid melancholy, was trying to bite off Ronald's head.
"What the hell does he want from me?" Weasley asked angrily, brushing him off like an annoying fly.
This additional disturbance was quite inappropriate. But Ron didn't dare remove the diadem as the Death Eaters, losing their patience completely, had ganged up against the invulnerable Gryffindorian. Ron fought back the best he could but was steadily pushed towards the edge of the tower. Hermione and Professor McGonagall almost broke through to his rescue, but then the dragons swooped down again and everything resembled a whirlpool. Fascinated by the diadem, Spooky no longer gored the Horntails. The dragons gathered their strength and belched a fiery tornado towards the fighters. The wizards ducked in unison. Ron, who had climbed the crenellation warding off five at once, barely had time to recoil from the fire flying at him. He managed to dodge but lost his balance. And the advantage in the fight, too. Someone's Stupefy instantly found its way to him. At the very edge of the tower it was practically certain death. The boy was struck against a merlon and one of his feet slipped off the crenellation making him almost follow Professor Dumbledore. Whether the diadem could give the ability to fly like Voldemort or not, it didn't matter anymore, because the relic of Rowena Ravenclaw came off Ronald's head. Both he and Hermione watched, as if in a slow-motion, the thin sparkling tiara fly up a little, obeying impact force, flash in the weak light of the winter sun and begin to fall.
"Accio diadem!" Ron screamed in horror, not caring at all either about the Death Eaters, who continued to assail him, or about the fact that a Horcrux could not be summoned by a spell. The loss of the intellect-enhancing artefact affected him immediately.
Of course, the diadem showed no reaction. Spooky, however, did. He fluttered sluggishly towards the piece of jewellery tumbling in mid-air and closed his heavy jaws around it. Ron froze in reclining posture, teetering on the edge of the chipped embrasure. Hermione rushed towards him on the crenellation, jumping from one merlon to the next. She wasn't scared – after all, it was her seventh year of studying in Gryffindor and being friends with Harry Potter. Yet, when she reached Ron, her hands were trembling for some reason. The main thing was not to look down. Apparently, the girl leapt too abruptly into the embrasure as something, clinking, fell out of her robes pocket – she had no time to see what it was. Only when the silvery smoke rose from under her feet to the level of her wand squeezed in her numb fingers, Hermione realised what it was and screamed.
Severus… Her heart sank as it had done in the Room of Requirement. A sense of foreboding. However, it was impossible to occupy her wand with anything but protective spells even for a second. There was an abyss behind her back and Ron just managed to crawl a little away from it. The smoke kept coiling up into the sky, resembling a silvery veil between the Death Eaters and Hermione. It clung to the girl's hand as though it could feel how sorry she was. Hermione's eyes misted either from the smoke or from something else, and it became more difficult to aim. She suddenly remembered the feeling of Snape's cold fingers on her hand holding her wand. She had never managed to cast Fiendfyre. Pity. It could be very useful right now… 'Fiendfyre is not a directed spell, Miss Granger, like Stupefy or Expelliarmus…' Why did she recall that? Perhaps, because of the smoke?
"Depulso! Ron, back me up!" Hermione threw the last attacking spell towards the enemies and couldn't restrain herself any longer: she directed her wand aside and began creating a new phial in the frosty mid-air. Her hands were shaking. Both the Death Eaters and Ron gaped.
"What are you doing?!" Weasley, still kneeling at the very edge of the crenellation, was showering the Death Eaters with all hexes and curses possible, but without the diadem that was not good enough. "What was in that vial? Is it worth it?!"
Not listening to him, Hermione was trying to catch the individual scraps of memories and direct them into the unfinished phial. However, the wind was carrying them away faster.
"I have foreboding, Ron, I have foreboding," she kept repeating like a mantra, crying.
Ronald was close to losing his mind.
"What foreboding? You're 'Troll' at Divination. Hermione, please! We're going to fall!"
"Hang on…" the girl was focused on a very complex charm and hearing 'Expelliarmus!' didn't alarm her immediately.
"MY WAND! Wrap it up, Hermione!"
A Stupefy was aimed at Ron, but he recoiled and the spell grazed Hermione's shoulder, knocking the phial out of her hand. This brought the girl to her senses. She restored a shield charm between them and the Death Eaters just in time. Quite a few spells rebounded off it and a familiar glow of sickening green passed between the friends, miraculously not hitting either of them.
"Accio Ron's wand!"
Ron, who resembled the colour of the greyish-pale wintery sky, silently took his wand from her.
"He'll die," Hermione whispered.
"I thought we would," Ron replied, sending, out of fear, a pair of well-aimed Incarcerous. "Wait. Are you talking about Harry?!"
"No, I'm not," Hermione answered, recovering.
"Then whom?"
"Never mind. You're right, it doesn't mean anything. I'm so sorry, Ron."
"Fancy that," the boy pouted rightfully.
Fortunately, at this moment, Professor McGonagall and Draco arrived from different sides, drawing the Death Eaters away from Harry Potter's exhausted friends. However, this short respite did not make the guys any happier: Hermione groaned and Ron mentioned Salazar.
"Harry will kill me. He. Will. Kill me," Weasley whispered in horror, watching Spooky circling melancholically above the tower. "That beast gulped the diadem. He just gulped it down!"
"It won't be Harry who'll kill you but Voldemort. And he'll kill all of us, not just you," Hermione said.
She felt that she had no right to scold her friend for losing the diadem. She was no better. The loss of the vial had upset her no less than the loss of the Horcrux. Ron was angry with her for a good reason: she'd completely lost her mind, amorous fool. Yes, she had been asked to look after Snape's memories and she had broken them by accident. It's not like it was worth dying for along with a friend! The girl was mad at herself; but worst of all, she still felt an oppressive weight on her heart. It was not a good sign.
Ron, on the contrary, forgot all the other troubles except for the relic of Rowena Ravenclaw.
"What are we gonna do now? Slaughter Spooky?" he wailed, heartbroken. "Hagrid won't forgive us. Besides, how are we gonna catch that brute?" He estimated the distance to the rare and extremely magic resistant creature. "I thought we only had to seize the snake and now… Oh, boy! Looks like he's about to kick the bucket!"
Hermione raised her head reluctantly.
Something strange was happening to Spooky. He was spinning and glowing in the sky. Not every unknown flying beast could do this. The wizards lowered their wands, throwing back their heads. Hermione sat down next to Ron on the edge of crenellation. Spooky began to transform right before their eyes; and within ten seconds he was reborn as something equally as gigantic and peculiar but harmoniously beautiful. A dragon or not a dragon. A bird or not a bird… Everyone froze on top of the tower; and several offensive spells still piercing the air fell to the ground. Spells! Fell to the ground! As though they had lost their velocity on the way.
"Is this good or bad?" Ron whispered, frightened.
Hermione had no answer.
Spooky flapped his iridescent wings, easily catching the air stream, emitted an outlandish farewell trill and flew towards the horizon. A Horntail – the only surviving dragon of the three attacking Gryffindorians – tried to catch up with him, but quickly fell behind. The Death Eaters dropped like stones. The defenders stared at each other in amazement and slowly climbed off the crenellation, putting away their wands.
Professor McGonagall wiped away her involuntary tears with her favourite chequered handkerchief.
"Didn't think I'd ever see…" She stepped over the motionless Antonin Dolohov and went to the middle of the fighting platform chipped by spells – there were better acoustics. "Ladies and gentlemen, now we have seen a very rare, if not to say extinct, magical creature. The most amazing and beautiful of fantastic beasts!"
The Gryffindorians, who had been feeding the amazing, fantastic beast with slops and flobberworms for several months, looked at each other in bewilderment.
"I don't remember what it's called," the headmistress immediately made a reservation, "but it has a wonderful property. This creature appears out of nowhere in dark times. It has an amazing ability to absorb evil around and within itself, and this only makes it stronger and more beautiful. What a pity that it left us so soon. Remember this moment, ladies and gentlemen. And let's hope there will never be a time when you meet this delightful beast again."
Ron nudged Hermione in her side, making her cry out.
"Cool, isn't it? Looks like we've destroyed the fifth Horcrux after all! Dumbledore must've slipped Spooky to Hagrid exactly for that. I wonder where he found him… Didn't you read that he could eliminate evil?"
"I did," Hermione sighed, ashamed. "It was written everywhere: 'to fight the evil around and within'. How was I supposed to interpret that?"
"Hmm, yes," Ron scratched his head freed from any additional load, "to understand, it must be seen. Harry'll be over the moon! Come on, let's find him. No point sitting here."
"Yeah, let's go." Hermione hadn't come to her senses yet but tried to concentrate. "If he's gone to look for Voldemort, we should go to the Shrieking Shack. Do you think the Lord saw the flash of the destroyed Horcrux from there?"
"Most likely. But who cares? He won't be able to do anything about it now," Ron shrugged. "Better tell me, how do you know about the shack?"
"Just do… From Professor Snape, Ron."
"Really?" Weasley frowned. "Then it's a trap."
Hermione mirrored his expression.
"Why? You said it yourself – he's with us."
"Did I?" her friend looked genuinely surprised. "Oh, yes. Well, I don't know why I thought that… It's quite difficult to understand Snape. He's way too tricky. I'll make this simple," Ron perked up with a sudden idea. "Hey Malfoy!"
"Don't!" Hermione winced, but it was too late. Draco heard, distracted himself from healing the twisted ankle of Parvati, who was squinting incredulously at him, and approached the friends.
"How are you? Not injured?" he asked with an open smile.
"Not badly," answered Ron. Hermione covered her cut sleeve and said nothing.
"Listen, Draco," Ron narrowed his eyes with the look of a Weasley plotting another mischief. "Do you know where You-Know-Who is hiding? Nobody knows around here."
"Ron, what if he made the Unbreakable…" Hermione tugged at Ron's robes, feeling her blood running cold.
"I didn't make the Vow," Draco beamed at her. "Thanks for your concern, Hermione. Of course, I know where the Lord is, Ron. He's in the Shrieking Shack. But be careful, if you go there – it's full of Death Eaters."
"Erm… Thanks," muttered Ron, not expecting such a quick victory.
"My pleasure. Anything else?"
"N-no… No, Draco, you can go."
"See you later then," Malfoy waved goodbye, flashing a Dark Mark on his forearm, and ran back to cure Parvati.
"Top notch, Hermione! I wish we studied Imperius in our first year," Ron whispered. "So, Snape didn't lie after all."
The girl lost it.
"Of course he didn't! He's been on Professor Dumbledore's side all along and still consults with his portrait – I saw it myself. He went to Voldemort to find out our enemy's plans. To help Harry and give him the sword of Gryffindor. Let's go, Ron. We're wasting time. What if they need our help!"
"Blimey!" astonished, Ron obediently climbed off the crenellation. "Why didn't you say this earlier?"
"When? Between Sectumsempra and Avada Kedavra? Well, sorry. I thought you'd cracked it yourself. Ah yes, you were wearing the diadem!"
"Not that much of a difference!" the ability of having a reasonable conversation left Ron, along with borrowed intelligence. "The diadem simply highlighted the path of normal logic, and Snape isn't normal. You never know what comes into his head! Shame about the diadem, right?"
"Not in the least!" Hermione said, hurrying towards the spiral staircase.
"Oh, sure! Why do we need extra brains fighting You-Know-Who when we have Snape! Who, by the way, regularly consults with the Dark Lord as well," Ron exclaimed, hurt. "Remember my words, our headmaster will show his true colours. I don't like him! He killed Professor Dumbledore – what a great help!"
"Professor Dumbledore ordered Snape to kill him, Ron."
The boy stopped, grabbing her arm and looking at her incredulously.
"Snape sneaked his wand out of his tomb! Was it Dumbledore's order, too?"
"You won't believe it!"
Ron looked even more incredulously at her.
"Dumbledore ordered Snape to kill him first and then open his tomb and dig through his remains?! Has Snape bewitched you, Hermione? He's actually pretty good at it."
"Implying that I'm under the Imperius again?" the girl sulked. "Severus Snape is a vile traitor and a greasy-haired bastard. Happy? Can we go now?"
"What about the Horcrux on his mantelpiece?" Ron demanded, not budging an inch.
Hermione hesitated, frowning slightly.
"I'm almost sure Bellatrix Lestrange slipped the Horcrux there secretly," she finally replied. "My guess is she came to Snape specifically for this not so long ago. Perhaps… Perhaps when more people of the Dark Lord penetrated the Ministry, the Lord learnt that Professor Dumbledore had watched Bellatrix's memories. He was afraid that Dumbledore could find the Hufflepuff Cup. Makes sense, doesn't it? Professor Snape and Bellatrix have been closest to You-Know-Who lately, but the Lord doesn't really trust anyone. So the Horcrux on one hand was in the professor's house, protected by his powerful spells, although the professor didn't realise it was there. On the other hand, Bellatrix knew where the Horcrux was, but she couldn't fetch it on her own volition."
"I dunno, Hermione," Ron drawled doubtfully.
"Then be quiet if you don't!" the girl hissed, tugging at his robes again. "Can we go and look for Harry?"
"Why go?" Ron picked his jacket off the floor and looked around the top of the tower with sadness.
The students were having a quick nosh with snacks brought by the house-elves from the surviving pantries. The unconscious Death Eaters were dragged aside. Only the offspring of the unsinkable Malfoys was sitting decorously next to the new headmistress and was quietly telling her something. Most likely, according to custom, he was ratting his mates out. It was very quiet and peaceful here between the raids. And even during them it was tolerable. Death Eaters, dragons, offensive spells that could break through shield charms – all of that was much, much better than going to Voldemort's lair and trying to nick the snake, from which he didn't take his eyes off. Ron had no idea how they were supposed to sneak on Nagini with the sword. This was a one-way trip that was destined to be a failure. The boy flinched and shook his head stubbornly.
"Why go, Miss Know-It-All, when we can fly?"