Today officially marks 2 weeks since I first posted this fic, and the following I've gotten so far has been amazing — thank you all for all the love! As always, a huge that you to my beta, RESimon, for everything. With this fic especially, she's been monumental in helping flesh things out in a logical way.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Hermione woke early the next morning, tiptoeing past where Malfoy slept on the cramped couch and letting the door click shut softly behind her. She readied herself for the day in one of the bathrooms on the lower floors, stashing her toiletries at the top of the steps in lieu of returning to the room where her husband still slept.
She crept down to the kitchen and was surprised to hear low voices drifting out of the open doorway as she approached. When the occupants were within view, Hermione was surprised to see nearly all the Weasleys, save Percy and Ginny, Fleur Delacour, Tonks, and Lupin sitting around the table, listening to the instructions that Kingsley and Moody gave. When Kingsley and Moody paused to look up at her, the other occupants of the room all turned to appraise the newcomer.
Most of those sat around the table gave her small smiles, and she smiled back. Kingsley and Moody, however, gave her a small frown and a calculating look respectively.
She crossed her arms are stared back at Kingsley defiantly, scanning everyone's faces. "You're planning something," she said. "Something that's happening soon."
Kingsley sighed. "Hermione–"
She ignored him, scanning the meeting's participants once more. "Something that clearly has to do with Harry, seeing that he's not here."
"We have to retrieve him tonight," Ron said, ignoring the frowns his parents gave him as he easily volunteered the information he was clearly not meant to divulge. "Don't worry though, it'll be an easy pickup and we'll be back in no time."
Hermione looked up at Kingsley, eyes narrowed. "If it's an easy pickup, then why haven't I been included?"
Kingsley sighed again, but Ron spoke before he could.
"It'll be best if you stay here where you're safe, 'Mione," Ron said.
"And all of you are going?" she asked.
"Well, Mum and Ginny aren't, but…"
"How are you doing it?" she pressed. "One would think that having this many people go to retrieve him would attract unwanted attention unless—" she looked at Moody, raising an eyebrow as the man grunted in answer.
"Polyjuice, then," she confirmed, and Moody nodded.
"Aye. Perhaps you should be included," Moody mused, his glass eye narrowing as he appraised her. "Quite the bright one, she is," he added, looking at Kingsley.
Kingsley was silent, still watching her with the frown that had been etched on his face since she'd entered.
She ignored the warning look in his eyes, scanning the people in the room as she counted out the numbers. "Why so many? Are you anticipating an attack?"
"No, not as of yet," Fred spoke.
"Simply being precautionary, you see," George finished.
Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Meaning that the risk is low then," she said, looking at Kingsley, who shook his head minutely in warning.
She ignored him, pressing on. "You will be unevenly numbered with the addition of Harry," she noted. "You would do well by allowing me to come."
"Hermione," Mr. Weasley spoke up, hesitating. "The risk, while low, is still there, and we wish to protect as many from harm as we can, although we know that some are too stubborn to be swayed," He added pointedly, looking around at his children and Fleur alike.
"He's right Hermione," Lupin said, frowning.
"You will be unevenly distributed," she said again. "If you add me in, that will be another decoy, even if this is all just for peace of mind. As you have all said, this is for precautionary measures and there is no serious threat of Death Eaters that we know of," she said, meeting Kingsley's eyes. "The only other person who would be willing to undertake such a task is Ginny, and she still has the Trace. He is my best friend, and you know that there's no one better suited to this task than I."
Moody cleared his throat. "All in favor of Miss Granger joining say aye."
There was a small chorus of "ayes" around the room, although a few remained silent. She met Kingsley's dark gaze for a long moment before sitting down, listening intently as Moody continued outlining the plan for that evening.
X
Kingsley found her in the Black family library not long after the meeting adjourned.
"You know that I cannot let you come this evening," he said sharply, his mouth thinned into a hard line in as he looked at her.
"Has she sent word?" Hermione asked, snapping her book shut.
Kingsley's frown deepened. "It does not matter if she has sent word or not. What matters is that until we have secured you a safe location, we have agreed, upon Mrs. Malfoy's insistence, that you are to remain under the direct protection of the Order. We will not have you undertaking anything unnecessarily dangerous before the war has even begun."
But you would after it has begun, wouldn't you? she wanted to ask. "She has not sent word, which means that they are not aware of our plans," she said. "Let me do this — please. It may be one of the last things I get to do for him before I leave him."
Kingsley continued to frown at her, and she met his look with the one that reflected both her pleading and her determination to accompany them on the mission no matter the cost.
Eventually, Kingsley sighed. "If we receive news that there is any hint of even an inkling amongst the Death Eaters, you will be banned from attending– no exceptions," he said finally.
Hermione nodded, giving him a small, tense smile. "This is all I will ask of you," she promised.
He continued to appraise her for a few moments longer before he turned to leave. "You will ride with me," he said before exiting and pulling the door shut behind him.
X
She spent most of the day in the library, continuing her Horcrux research as she tried to stop herself from obsessively checking the clock as nightfall drew nearer. When Tonks found her once it was time to depart, she was already standing, having just been pacing anxiously as she waited to see if there would be news from the elder Mrs. Malfoy or not. She let out a breath when the woman gave her a small nod and indicated that it was time to leave, and she followed her outside, where everyone was mounting their various modes of transportation for that night. She swallowed when she saw Kingsley astride a skeletal horse-like creature, realizing that it was a Thestral. She took a deep breath, forcing down the emotions that rose within her as she was faced with the memory of why she could now see the creature as clear as day when only a year prior she had stumbled and flailed as she tried to mount one.
Kingsley said nothing as she settled herself in front of him, only pressing her close to him as he told her to steady herself. Within minutes, they were all soaring into the night. It was eerily calm, she realized. Up in the sky and free from the constant sounds of London about her, which she had grown so used to, the stillness almost startled her. There was little noise save for the sound of the wind in her ears and Kingsley's breaths behind her. Quickly, sooner than she would have thought, they were all descending and landing on a quiet Muggle street. They were soon knocking at the door of the home Hermione knew that Harry despised, and the man himself opened the door only a moment later, looking surprised to see fourteen of his friends on his doorstep in the middle of the night.
She hovered in the background as the others explained the plan to Harry, then argued with him as he tried to convince them of the risk of their plan. Ron had attempted to stand near her on more than one occasion, and she had quietly— but subtly – shuffled away each time, pretending to examine a few lingering pieces of furniture in Harry's childhood home. It was only when Fleur nudged her, motioning to Hermione to take the flask of Polyjuice that she held out, that Hermione forced herself to focus on the conversation the others were having.
"Come along, 'Arry, we'd best get yeh settled," Hagrid was saying when he stopped abruptly as the sound of the wild tapping noise against the window nearest Hermione startled them into silence.
She froze for a moment as she saw the gleam of a scrap of parchment attached to its leg as it continued to tap frantically at the window. Her heart began stuttering in her chest as she moved over to the window, unlatching it quickly and pulling the parchment from the owl's leg before it took off into the night, leaving as quickly as it had come.
She didn't need to unroll the parchment to know what it said. Instead, she turned her wide eyes to Kingsley, who had approached beside her, plucking the parchment from her fingers effortlessly and reading the few short words that were written on it with a deep frown.
"They are here," he said simply, and the room interrupted into frenzied chaos.
She looked up and met Kingsley's hard gaze, realizing the perilous position she'd placed herself in. She could still try and leave, but the chances of her avoiding the Death Eaters were slim. She would have to polyjuice herself and go back out into what awaited them.
While the other Harry's in the room turned and began to shuffle themselves amongst their designated protectors after giving each other reassuring hugs and squeezes, Hermione got down the bitter-tasting potion, trying to ignore the panic that had risen in her chest as she realized that some of them –possibly including herself– might not survive the night. She steadied herself as the queasiness of the transformation finished, attempting to calm her nerves as she thought of Malfoy, who she had left in the early hours of the morning, asleep and blissfully unaware of the risks she had unilaterally decided to undertake in the name have her best friend.
The others had begun to rush out of the house, and she followed, keeping her eyes firmly on where the Thestral awaited them, feeling the burn of shame on her back where Kingsley's hand gently but firmly guided her forward. She had yet to meet his eyes again, and she had no desire to see the look that she knew must have been clear or obvious in them at that moment. She had increased his duty twofold, and guilt whirled alongside shame in her stomach as she thought of the way she had insisted on attending only that morning.
Within moments, everyone was ready to take off, and when Kingsley gave the signal, her hand tightened around her wand as she waited for the inevitable battle to begin.
The minute they breached the clouds, they were met with chaos. Figures clad in dark cloaks and silver masks dotted the air around them, shooting spells immediately as they ascended. Adrenaline coursed through her veins as Kingsley began to navigate them through the fray, and her world dissolved into nothing but the sound of her racing heart in her ears and the flashes of light erupting all around her as her enemies and allies alike threw out various blindingly bright colors.
A black cloaked figure rose up beside her, and before the person behind the mask could fire out a spell, she screamed out a stunning spell that had them toppling off their broom and into the sky, where she saw another similarly dressed figure snatch them before they fell too far.
Just as quickly as the first disappeared, two more appeared his place, shooting spells that she barely deflected before flinging back her own, mindful of where Kingsley attempted to shoot his own while also helping navigate their mount through the chaos of the battle. She felt a curse slash her upper arm, the sting of the fresh cut burning brightly before she could whip her head around to identify which assailant had managed to land the blow.
"Stupefy!" she screamed, and watched as twin bolts of light from both her and Kingsley's wands hit the Death Eater at the same time, and the person tumbled off their broom, disappearing into the night air until they were reduced to nothing but a speck. When she turned to her other side where the other death eater had been only moments before, she saw that Kingsley had cut that one down, too.
A new figure rose beside them, but when she raised her wand and threw out a defensive spell, it glided off the newcomer's body. When she looked more closely at the cloaked figure that drifted through the air without assistance beside them, her mouth froze open in a scream as cold dread filled her heart.
This floating, disfigured, half-human creature was none other than Voldemort himself.
Terror gripped her heart as she met his snake-like eyes, knowing that she was face-to-face with the embodiment of evil itself.
She steeled her resolve, raising a shaking hand as she tried to steady her wand on his figure. "Stu—" she started, but before she could finish the spell, he abruptly tore away, gliding off into the clouds.
"What—" she started to ask Kingsley when the realization hit her. He'd known, somehow, that she wasn't Harry. He'd known, which meant that–
"Harry!" she screamed. "He'll find him! We have to go back– we have to–"
"No!" Kingsley said, sparing her only a brief glance over his shoulder as yet another death eater rose before them, which he quickly deflected with the spell that sent them spinning away.
Another rose beside her, and she reacted instantly, sending them flying in a manner, not unlike the way Kingsley had sent their companion flying only a moment prior. They continued to fly through the air, and Hermione looked around with wild eyes as she awaited more attackers, although none came, filling her heart with even more dread. She wondered if they had failed, if Harry was already dead, and she had put both her and Malfoy's lives in jeopardy for no reason at all. Her heart clenched as she thought of him, wondering if her hatred of him had been justification enough for her actions while simultaneously knowing it hadn't.
She just barely registered Kingsley pressing a portkey into her hand before she was sucked into the sensation. When they reappeared, it was eerily quiet. She looked around, realizing that they were in a forest somewhere, likely very far from civilization.
"Let me see," Kingsley said, taking up her arm. She looked down at where he held her, noticing that her wound was still bleeding steadily, soaking her sleeve.
"I'm alright," she answered tonelessly. "Let's just go."
Kingsley appraised her quietly for a moment before nodding and pressing another portkey in her hand. This time, they reappeared at the Burrow, landing safely in the Wealseys' yard. Her legs began shaking then, and she felt herself sink to the ground. She vaguely registered Kingsley's grip on her arms as he stood her up straight.
"Hermione, look at me," he urged. "Are you alright?"
She nodded mutely, still trembling as she tried to focus on his words as he continued to speak.
Eventually, he seemed to realize that she was too distraught to respond, and pulled her into the house, where others from their group gathered around a prone figure on the sofa. The moment she saw the others, she counted who had returned, then gasped as Ron materialized, hugging her fiercely.
"Are you alright?" he asked, running his hands over her sides. She let herself lean into his touch, momentarily allowing herself to enjoy the comfort of his familiar embrace. "You're hurt," he said, thumbing over where blood was caked on her sleeve where she'd been slashed by a curse.
"I'm fine," she said, letting him pull her back into a hug. She was numb to the pain after all that had transpired, and it had been reduced to little more than a dull throbbing. Only moments later, Harry joined them, and the three of them wrapped in a fierce embrace.
In the end, all made it back. Moody had been gravely injured, and Hermione's heart broke for the man. Once he had been tended to and it was declared that he was expected to make a full recovery, she stayed up alongside the others as they stayed up late, recounting their experiences and tending to George's injury. It was nearing sunrise when Ginny pulled Hermione aside and lead her up to her room, where they both nearly instantly passed out from sheer exhaustion.
X
The next day, she busied herself by helping Mrs. Weasley around the house, deeming it necessary to keep herself occupied lest troubling memories of the previous evening invade her mind. She stopped only to let Mrs. Weasley tend to her wounded arm every few hours, which turned out to be cursed. The older woman had informed her that the wound was cursed and would continue to bleed for at least another day, ordering her to take blood replenishing potions every few hours.
She continued helping Mrs. Weasley with her tasks for the day until well into the evening when Kingsley stepped through the floo, his expression unreadable.
"You're needed at Grimmauld," he said to her after greeting those who milled around her in the kitchen, his expression unreadable.
Hermione swallowed thickly, then nodded before following him through the floo.
"We will come to seek you in your room shortly," he explained before disappearing into one of the sitting rooms.
Hermione nodded, then slowly made her way up the steps until she reached her rooms before slowly pushing open the door and stepping inside.
Malfoy was standing in the middle of the room, his back to her. His stance was tense, and he did not move as she closed the door behind herself.
"I—" she started, stopping short as he whirled on her.
"Where the fuck were you?" he seethed as he approached, his grey eyes dancing with rage.
She clamped her mouth shut but crossed her arms defiantly over her chest. "That is none–"
"Do not dare lie to me," he snapped.
"It doesn't matter where I've been, Malfoy," she shot back, ignoring the guilt that churned in her stomach as she glared back at him. "Although I thank you for your concern." She was unable to hide the bitterness in her tone, at once burdened by guilt and anger that she had to think of him now as much as she thought of herself.
He snatched her by the arms then, gripping her tightly. She gasped out a pained moan as he clutched her wound that was covered only by her sleeve, grinding her teeth to stop herself from making another noise to prevent him from discovering the true source of her discomfort.
"I know what kinds of reckless things you do with Potter and Weasel," he seethed. "I do not care what you do, only that you do not get yourself killed in to process. My mother has put her life on the line to protect your precious Order, and if you ever do anything that gets me killed and leaves her alone here–" he cut off abruptly as there was a rap at the door, dropping her arms abruptly.
Hermione gave him another glare before crossing to the door and pulling it open. Her eyes widened a fraction as Kingsley stepped aside to reveal McGonagall and none other than Mrs. Narcissa Malfoy behind him, all of whom quickly glided into the room before sealing the door shut behind them with a few select spells.
"Good evening," Hermione greeted and was met by stiff nods from the visitors.
Mrs. Malfoy looked around the sparsely furnished room disdainfully before crossing over to Draco, looking him over quickly before nodding at him and turning to the other occupants of the room.
"Tell me what happened," she demanded, irritation clear in her tone.
"We received the letter once we were already in Potter's home," Kingsley explained. "Nonetheless, it was helpful to have been warned beforehand. I believe that is the reason we were all able to return safely. Alastor Moody was gravely injured, but he is expected to make a full recovery."
Hermione felt Malfoy's accusatory gaze on her but steadily ignored him as she listened to the conversation.
"And what of the safe house?" Mrs. Malfoy asked.
"We are making preparations as we speak, and we expect to have something ready within a month's time," McGonagall answered.
Within a month. She had but a month until she would be forced to go into hiding with Malfoy, a man who was currently glaring at her with a look of such abject distaste that she wondered if he were about to hex her, regardless of their audience.
"Very well," Mrs. Malfoy said, looking around the room before her eyes landed on Hermione.
Hermione froze in the woman's icy blue gaze, feeling as though she was being picked apart by the force of it. Hermione's heart began to race as the woman crossed over to her, eyes narrowed. She met the woman's eyes with uncertainty, trying to read them. She snatched up Hermione's arm suddenly, and Hermione yelped involuntarily before biting her lip as the woman's slender fingers dug into her wound. She looked down to see a telltale patch of blood darkening the sleeve of her shirt, likely from the way Malfoy had gripped her hard only minutes prior.
"You little bitch," the woman seethed, her blue eyes dancing with rage as she glared at Hermione.
Before Hermione could utter a word, Mrs. Malfoy reared back and slapped her clean across the face, taking her breath away.
The room was silent for a beat in the wake of Mrs. Malfoy's outburst, and Hermione's cheek burned where the woman's hand had made contact.
"Mrs. Malfoy!" McGonagall cried, aghast. At that, Hermione could not help but look up upon hearing her new name, looking away ashamedly as she saw the look on her former Professor's face.
"You were there?!" Mrs. Malfoy seethed at Hermione, ignoring McGonagall's words.
Hermione nodded meekly, shrinking back at the force of the woman's outburst. Mrs. Malfoy let go of her abruptly, causing her to stumble back, cradling her arm that now bled freely.
The other woman whirled on Kingsley, advancing on him with a murderous look in her eyes. "Our agreement was that they remain under the Order's watch and protection until proper arrangements could be made!"
"I am aware, Mrs. Malfoy, we–"
"If you are aware," Mrs. Malfoy snapped. "Why was she there when she was to be forbidden from leaving Order custody?"
Hermione wanted to object to the idea of being imprisoned like a misbehaving child but feared the look on her mother in law's face. Beneath the anger, Hermione could clearly see the fear the woman felt at the prospect of losing her child, instantly filling Hermione's body with remorse. Perhaps she deserved to be treated like a child — she had acted irrationally and was now facing the consequences of what had almost come to pass. She shivered again as she recalled Voldemort's inhuman face so close to hers, an aching chill settling in her bones once more at the reminder.
"Her life is tethered to that of my son!" Mrs. Malfoy snapped, pressing her wand into Kingsley's chest. "I entered into this agreement under no uncertain terms — you will protect him as well as you would protect one of Potter's most precious friends or I will find a way to raze your Order." Her voice had gone chillingly even, ringing with promise as she leveled Kingsley with a deadly glare.
Before anyone else could speak, Mrs. Malfoy disillusioned herself and left, letting the door slam behind her.
Now that we're past Hogwarts and into the summer, we're nearing the end of canon events I'm directly parallelling — chapter 9 is the last of them, and from then on this fic deviates. Glad you're all enjoying the ride so far!
Reviews mean the world to me.