AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hello readers! I hope you're enjoying the holiday season! Glad to have you back :) As always your patience is appreciated. The last few months were very busy at work, but I'm glad I was finally able to get this chapter up. Enjoy :)


"Hell is empty and all the devils are here."

-William Shakespeare, The Tempest

In streets, alleyways, and corners all over Britain, wizards and witches switched on their radios, listening for news of the battle that would alter the course of the war.

"10pm in London tonight. No fog. Voldemort and his forces are entering the city…they're turning the river Thames to ice…many muggles have fled underground, hoping for refuge in the tube stations, but the blasts from the fighting have trapped them under concrete and steel…

"The British people, muggles and wizards alike, look to the Magical Alliance and the Order, as they join together with muggle forces. Voldemort has doubled the size of his army with the help of his Albanian friends, and now the Dementors enter the city to extinguish the last of our hope, but some believe that Harry Potter still lives…"

10 Downing Street, 11 PM

"Sir, it's happening. He's frozen the Thames, he's marching deeper into London."

The Prime Minister followed his private secretary through the maze of corridors that made up 10 Downing Street. The place was half empty, and his footsteps echoed loudly on the marble floors.

The doors outside were made of blast proof steel. But the Prime Minister doubted they'd offer much in the way of protection.

Not with what they were facing.

For all he knew, the enemy's curses would seep into the walls without so much as a crack in the exterior.

The Prime Minister quickened his pace, and his secretary had to sprint to keep up with him.

Building ten was connected by an interior passage to eleven, where they reached his living quarters.

"Your advisors have evacuated sir," said his secretary.

The Prime Minister nodded.

There were a number of underground tunnels and networks that led to key points around the city, and he hoped his people would survive the night.

"And parliament, Brenley?" he asked.

Brenley raised an eyebrow.

"They've barricaded themselves in the House of Commons and the House of Lords. They said there's no point leaving, nowhere to run to, the madman's forces are everywhere."

"To think it's come to this…" the Prime Minister said, rubbing his forehead.

He walked over to a large red sofa.

A painting with a gilded frame hung over it. He prized it off the wall, revealing a very narrow passage.

Brenley frowned at him.

"Sir, this tunnel leads straight to the fighting—your security detail is waiting for you on the other—"

"I'm not running away, Brenley, I'm going to fight like the rest of them." The Prime Minister loosened his tie. "The world will never be the same after this day…"

"But sir—"

He motioned his secretary over. "I can use an extra hand. There's people trapped in the underground—from Paddington, to Victoria Street, all the way to Charing Cross. We have to get them out."

Brenley's chin trembled slightly. "I'm afraid I don't have your courage, sir."

The Prime Minister raised an eyebrow. "Very well, then. I suppose this is goodbye…"

"Maybe one day we'll see each other again," said Brenley. "Once things go back to normal and the dust settles."

The Prime Minister looked at him in disbelief. "We're not going back to normal. For better or worse, we're going to live in a new world…"

He took a deep breath.

"Do me a favor, the rebel mobs—the ones led by Grenville, Latimer and Crayden—they don't know the difference between the wizards fighting on our side, and the one's following the madman. Do your best to keep them away from the Alliance, and the organization they call the Order."

Brenley nodded. "I'll take care of it sir."

There was the sound of a telephone ringing in his office next door.

"Who the bloody hell is that?" asked the Prime Minister, shocked that anyone would still try to reach him on his private line. "Answer it, will you?"

Brenley hurried away.

The Prime Minister heard the undersecretary speak very quickly, then pause, sputtering something unintelligible. Shortly after, he returned to the sitting room.

"Sir…" he said very pale.

"Yes?"

"It's her."

The Prime Minister froze, his leg halfway through the portrait hole.

"Her, her?"

Brenley nodded.

"You mean to tell me she hasn't evacuated?"

"She's as stubborn as you are, sir. Sent her family away last night and stayed behind."

The Prime Minister nodded. "I should have known…"

He dashed to the office next door and lifted the telephone to his ear.

He cleared his throat.

"Your Majesty, how are you?"


10 Downing Street, 11:30 PM

"Given the circumstances, not very well," the queen said swiftly.

Always down to business, the Prime Minister thought to himself.

Then he cleared his throat. "Ma'am, you must leave Windsor and head to safety—"

"Do not chastise me," she interrupted. Why have you not made a run for it?"

"I—"

"I'll tell you why," she said. "Because there's no sense in it. If Tom Riddle wins, he'll find us all the same…drag us out of our hiding holes and make a spectacle of our very public deaths."

"Ma'am, I must insist—"

"No need for that, Prime Minister."

"Is anyone there with you?"

"A few in my service have decided to stay. I'm well looked after."

They were both silent, then the queen spoke again.

"Tom Riddle is a broken man. He's been drowning for years, but we've let him come up for air once before. Let's not do it again."

The Prime Minister nodded, although she couldn't see him. "Our forces are doing their best, ma'am."

"And Harry Potter, he lives?"

"No one knows."

The queen was silent again, then she sighed.

"In the end it is not a crown or a sword or even a war that changes the course of history, is it? It's a single act of madness."

There was a blast outside and the walls of the Prime Minister's office shook.

"It appears so, ma'am."

He waited for the queen to speak again.

"If we lose, and Tom Riddle cuts us down, we must look him in the eye while he does it. We need him to know that others will rise up in our place. The British people will not go quietly. Not while they have air in their lungs and blood in their veins. They will fight him, time and time again. And in that way, he can never truly win. Not in the end."

The Prime Minister knew there was nothing he could say to make the queen leave her residence at Windsor. But then he remembered that she had phoned him.

"Is there something I can do for you ma'am? Anything or anyone I can send over to you?"

"No," she said. Then she cleared her throat. "I telephoned because…because I wanted to wish you good luck, Prime Minister."

He swallowed, in all his years of service she had never expressed so much emotion in a single sentence.

His voice shook slightly.

"Good luck, Your Majesty," he said.

"Good luck, Prime Minister," she said again, the faintest trace of a smile in her voice.

Then she hung up.


A blaze of lights illuminated central London, as spells collided with muggle firepower.

The Magical Alliance launched their curses from the heart of the city, striking Voldemort's army as they advanced on the Thames.

Muggle planes moved into formation over the skies.

The dementors cast their shadows, and Voldemort's Albanian forces launched a firestorm of spells.

Commander Braaten flew his winged horse over the House of Parliament, flanked on each side by members of the Order, searching for Voldemort.

They descended lower into the city, spotting him in the center of the chaos.

But at that moment the muggles planes dropped their bombs, and the resulting explosions forced Braaten and the others to fly higher.

Voldemort vanished from sight, and a short distance away, a shower of sparks illuminated London's famous clock tower, just as it tolled the midnight hour.


Hermione and Nerina walked up the spiral steps of St. Paul's Cathedral.

"Why are we here?" Hermione asked. "This isn't where it's hidden…"

Gryffindor's sword hung at her waist, making it very difficult to climb.

"We're here to visit an old friend," Nerina replied, as they reached the Golden Gallery. It encircled the highest point of the cathedral's outer dome.

They pushed a door open and went outside.

They were able to see London's skyline, and a few feet away from them stood a man with dark hair. He wore a long cloak that billowed in the wind, and the moonlight shone on his pale skin, giving him the appearance of a marble statue.

His golden eyes locked on Hermione's.

"Sebastián?" she whispered.

"I see you've found each other at last," he said, looking from Nerina to Hermione.

They heard the distant toll of the clocktower, announcing that it was midnight.

Sebastián circled Hermione, and she felt an electric current shoot through her. Her eyes lost focus. There was a familiar buzzing in her head and her muscles contracted as he pushed his way into her mind.

"You have come a long way from Hogwarts, Ms. Granger. Starting with your journey aboard the Dragomir, to our meeting in Segovia, to your escape from the Death Eaters…but always, you think of Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter. You wonder if they still draw breath. You love them both, but in different ways…"

Hermione gasped as he released his hold on her.

"You must not think of them, for now you will go to the place where dark magic began. All these years, and I was never able to find it…but you have, Ms. Granger. Nerina tells me the entrance is hidden inside the catacombs of this city…"

Hermione looked at him, surprised. "What were you hoping to find there?"

"Answers," he said simply. "Answers to the origin of my kind, the origin of all vampires…"

Hermione looked at him, stunned. He was over a thousand years old, but not even he had learned all the world's secrets…

"I know that I can never be human again, but I'd like to…."

"Understand?" Hermione offered.

"Yes," he said. "Understand how it all began."

He looked at her, his eyes hungry…but not for blood. It was a different kind of hunger, a thirst for knowledge.

Sebastián beckoned her forward, and they watched the war rage below them.

"They know of our existence now," Sebastián said, looking at the muggles as they fired at Voldemort's army. "But in a way…they've always remembered us, haven't they? We live in their stories, in their books…" He smiled. "…safely ensconced in fairytales, where they can visit us from time to time."

He looked at Hermione again, and his golden eyes were alight with some strange emotion. "People see what they want to see, Ms. Granger…and what they are not ready to believe, they condemn, or transform into something more tolerable."

Hermione was silent.

"But you will help people see things differently. You are, after all, the greatest witch of your age…"

Hermione looked at him, not certain she'd ever get used to that title. "Everything feels like it's been turned upside down," she said. "In my mind, Harry was always going to be the one to face Voldemort. Not me."

"You will find Ms. Granger," Sebastián said. "That what we think is meant to happen, rarely comes to pass. And the events that change our lives—the ones that shape us—are the ones we never dreamed up for ourselves." He tilted his head. "And in some cases the world is changed by them too. That, in the greater scheme of things, is what is remembered, what endures, what becomes legend."

Hermione stared at the ground, letting his words sink in.

A moment later the cathedral shook from the weight of another blast.

She and Nerina struggled for balance, but Sebastián stood still as stone.

Nerina put her hand on Hermione's shoulder. "We have to go."

Sebastián watched as they made for the stairs.

"This city holds a thousand secrets, Ms. Granger. Many of them are hidden in plain sight. You only have to look, and they will reveal themselves to you."

Hermione froze, not sure what he meant.

She turned to ask him, but with a twist of his cloak he was gone, vanishing into thin air.


12:30 PM

Draco had taken care to stay out of sight, disguised as one of Voldemort's Albanian soldiers for the march into London.

Everyone thought he was dead, and he had to keep things that way.

He walked into a tent at the edge of the city, far from the fighting.

It was empty save for a desk, two chairs, and a mirror.

He heard his father's voice on the other side, protesting with Edevane's guards.

"You have ten minutes," one of them said, as they pushed him in.

Lucius froze, sensing someone standing in the darkness.

"Who's there?"

Draco removed his hood.

He lifted his wand.

"Lumos," he said.

Lucius stared at him like he'd seen a ghost.

Draco looked at the guards. "Leave us."

Lucius took a careful step forward but faltered, clutching onto the table next to him for support. "How is this possible? The Dark Lord said you were dead. Edevane killed you…"

"The Dark Lord was fooled," Draco said. "Edevane spared me."

Slowly, Lucius walked up to his son. He touched his face, checking to see if he was real. When he was sure it was him, he embraced him.

"If the Dark Lord fails we will plead our case to the Order," Lucius whispered. "We will offer them whatever they ask—say we were bewitched, like last time. I—"

Draco moved away from his father. "There won't be a pardon for us. I was responsible for Harry's capture. They'll lock me up in Azkaban—"

"Some say that Potter lives…" Lucius said desperately. "If that's true—"

"They're only rumors. Things have changed. The muggles know who we are now—they know our connection to Voldemort. They burned the manor. Edevane marched the army through Wiltshire and we saw the smoke. It's gone."

Lucius faltered, at a loss for words.

"I need your cloak," said Draco.

"What?"

"I'm taking your place in battle."

It was then that Lucius noticed the vial of polyjuice potion in Draco's hand.

"What has Edevane plotted?" Lucius hissed. "Why do you listen to that old fool?"

"I owe him a life debt. He spared my life. I'm magically bound to him, whether I like it or not…"

Draco hadn't realized it at first, but when he tried to escape Edevane's side on the march to London, he had only made it a few yards before he was compelled to return to the army like a puppet on a string.

"He's given me a new mission."

"A mission?" asked Lucius. "What do you mean?

"It doesn't matter. All you need to know is that Edevane knows things about the Dark Lord—things that can destroy him. The Alliance and the Order have a good chance of winning this war, and I'll play my part in it. But when it's over, I'm going to kill Edevane."

Lucius looked at his son, thinking that Narcissa's death had made him lose his head. "Don't risk your life for vengeance, Draco. Your mother wouldn't want it."

"You have no right to speak of mother or her wishes."

Lucius swallowed. "That may be so, but I refuse to lose you a second time."

Draco swallowed his anger. "Go into hiding and stay out of sight. I can take care of myself."

Lucius laughed bitterly. "Edevane will never release me."

"He will," Draco said. "He wants you to live with the knowledge that your son in his service and your wife was tortured by his hand. I suspect he's also the one who gave away the manor's location to the muggles. He's taking everything from you, piece by piece, and it's my life that hangs in the balance…"

His father's jaw twitched, then he looked down at his hand and slipped off a silver ring. It bore the Malfoy crest.

Draco narrowed his eyes at it. As a child he had hoped that one day his father would hand him that ring. All the old families had one, passed down generation after generation, a symbol of their blood status and purity.

"I don't want it," said Draco.

It symbolized everything that had shattered his world.

The world he had made with Hermione.

"If you're going to impersonate me," Lucius said, "you'll need to wear it. Unless you want to raise suspicion?"

He handed him the ring.

Draco reached for it, and as his wandlight fell over it, he thought something looked different about it…a glimmer, a flash of something in the edges…

"Five minutes!" the guards outside shouted, casting shadows on the tent as they paced up and down.

Lucius motioned Draco over to him. "Let's get on with it then."

They exchanged cloaks and Draco opened the flask of polyjuice potion, taking a long draft from it.

Moments later, he clutched the table as his body began to change. His blonde hair lengthened down to his shoulders, and his knees cracked as he grew taller. His eyes crinkled in the corners, and deep lines ran across his forehead.

There was a mirror sitting on the table. Draco looked into it and found his father's face staring back at him.

He had always seen bits and pieces of his father in himself, but now as he gazed at his reflection, he realized that he was not this man. And for the first time, he didn't want to be a Malfoy.

But Draco knew that he couldn't run away from his name, it was a part of him. And the only way to make peace with it, was to leave behind a different legacy than his father had.

As Draco turned to him, Lucius stared into his own face. He looked at his son gravely. He would never see him grow into his own, this would be his last look at him, a mirror reflection of himself, and he realized he didn't want Draco to be anything like him." He took a breath. "We can find a way to break your tie to Edevane. If—"

Draco cut him off. "Neither Edevane nor the Order will let me go. Either way, I'm a prisoner."

"And the Granger girl?" Lucius asked. "What of her? Don't you wish to live for her?"

Draco moved away from him. "Even if I survive this war, even though I know she was only defending herself, she killed my mother. It's all I'd ever think about if we were together."

Lucius battled with himself, not wanting to reveal a final secret, but he knew he had to tell his son the truth.

"She didn't kill your mother, Draco."

Draco froze, feeling the air leave his lungs.

"Voldemort resurfaced your mother's memories after she died. He used dark magic to reclaim them. She fell on her own dagger, it was an accident."

Draco couldn't breathe. "Why are you telling me this?" he said, gripping the back of a chair until his knuckles turned white.

"So that you find your way back to Hermione Granger. She can tell the Order the truth…tell them you helped her escape the tower, disguised her as Dolohov. She'd have died otherwise, at Bella's hand."

Draco said nothing.

"I know that you've ached for her for years," Lucius went on. "And I never understood what you saw in her. She's plain, and she has no respect for our ways. But I will concede that she is intelligent, and that she always knew how to put you in your place. Perhaps that is what drew you to her." He stepped closer to Draco. "I won't stand here and lie to you. I never wanted her for you, and I still don't want her for you, but I do want you to live. And if a union with her is the only way to accomplish that, then so be it. I won't pretend that I admire her, but knowing that you are alive will make me forever grateful to her."

A sharp voice interrupted them. "Bid your father goodbye now, Draco."

Edevane had entered the tent.

"Guards," he said lazily. He brandished his golden cane at Lucius. "Take him out of the camp, and make sure he keeps his face hidden."

Lucius clenched his fists as the guard's seized him. He turned to Draco. "Wait, there's one more thing—"

"I'm afraid the time for goodbyes is over," Edevane snapped.

Lucius tried to speak again, but one of the guards kicked his stomach, knocking the wind out of him.

As they dragged his father away, Draco looked down at the ring on his finger.

Hot tears burned his face. Returning to Hermione now would only put her in danger. Edevane would use his life debt against him…maybe even kill her. And if Voldemort perished, Edevane would most certainly find a way to take his place…whether it was now, or ten years from now…

Draco stood to his full height. He had to finish what he started.

He looked at Edevane, noticing that he didn't wear his family ring.

It didn't surprise Draco. Edevane liked to stand out from the rest. And he didn't need a ring to signal his importance. He was one of the Original Seven.

"The Dark Lord will get his wish," Edevane said, leading him out of the tent. "When this war is over, regardless of who wins or loses, wizard-kind will be dragged out of the shadows, but what will the world see when we are brought to the light?"

He pointed skywards. Voldemort's obscurement charm—the one he had created to isolate Britain all those months ago—was dissipating.


1:00 AM

Hermione's mouth fell open as she looked up.

Nikola and her crew had enchanted the Dragomir to fly.

The Bulgarians had come to the aid of the Alliance, and the ship soared over London, blasting cannon-fire into Voldemort's Albanian forces below.

The Death Eater's heard the roar of more planes, as the muggles advanced on them.

They raised their wands, and hit the plane's engines with curses, causing them to freeze or catch fire.

The people of London screamed as planes fell out of the sky and plummeted, smoke billowing out behind them.

Hermione and Nerina ran through the streets, passing the team of Agarby's soldiers gathered at Charing Cross station. They were using wandwork to lift slabs of concrete and steel, trying to save the muggles trapped below the wreckage.

Hermione jumped as spells collided with one another overhead, lighting up the buildings.

She looked up.

Glass skyscrapers stood next to thousand year old marvels—abbeys, and churches and towers.

A series of curses skyrocketed into the center of them, and with an almighty wrench one of the glass skyscrapers gave way, tumbling into a stone archway behind it.

The old world was colliding with the new…the magical world with the muggle…

Shards of glass rained down upon those gathered below, including Fenrir Greyback.

He and his fellows who were trying to get to Agarby's men.

They changed direction and fled onto the frozen Thames, but the pieces of glass pierced their flesh, as the Magical Alliance sent shards flying in their direction. Greyback gasped as a piece lodged itself into his neck, killing him instantly. He fell face-down, and soon the frozen Thames was stained red with his blood and the blood of his friends.

Hermione and Nerina ran in the opposite direction, holding their arms over their heads.

They cast shielding charms, but they still felt their robes slash and tear in places where the shield did not protect them.

And then, on the other side of the Thames, they heard shouts.

The crowds by the river's edge were parting, as someone moved through them.

A messenger of some sort had reached the front.

A man.

"IT'S HARRY POTTER!" He pointed up at the sky. "HE LIVES!"

The Death Eaters stopped in their tracks. Their eyes were wild from the adrenaline of battle.

They stood only a few yards away, fighting the Arévalos.

A boy with jet black hair was flying through the sky, casting a patronus to defend himself from the swirling mass of dementors floating above him.

Hermione felt the world slow down around her.

The patronus…

It was a stag.

The crowd began to whisper and point.

"It's Harry Potter! The Boy who Lived!"

A torrent of sound broke out from the river's edge and traveled from wizard to wizard, until the news spread around London.

From Southwark, to Lambeth, to Westminster…

"The Boy Who Lived! Harry Potter!"

Around Hermione, people stopped what they were doing to look up at the sky.

Nerina took Hermione's arm. "We have to keep moving."

Hermione watched as the boy with jet black hair flew past them.

She had to know if it was him. She had to know if it was Harry.

She broke away from Nerina and ran.


"He lives," Bellatrix whispered to the Death Eaters. They had evaded the Arévalos and were standing on the roof of an old tower. "The people are rallying. He is giving them hope."

"An impostor," Edevane said unimpressed. "A trap set for us by the Magical Alliance…"

Next to him Draco was still. Thus far, he had fooled everyone into thinking he was Lucius.

Bellatrix looked more closely at the boy claiming to be Harry, watching him fly over the cheering crowds.

He shot curses at the Albanian wizards, encouraging the Magical Alliance to do the same.

"There is nothing more dangerous than blind devotion," Bellatrix said fiercely, seeing that the allied forces were regrouping. She clenched her fists. "It's Potter. He fights alone, there are no guards to protect him…

And then quick as he came, Potter disappeared, just as another explosion rocked the earth.

"Look, he's vanished!" Bellatrix exclaimed. "The Magical Alliance would parade an imposter around the city. They would ensure he was seen—a herald for their cause."

Edevane turned to her. "I've heard quite enough—"

"He's after something," Bellatrix hissed, trying to see through smoke."He's shown himself just long enough to inspire the allies to keep fighting."

"You saw him die at Inverness," Edevane said simply. "As did the Dark Lord."

"Only Severus touched him," she shrieked. "Only Severus claimed him dead!"

She marched up to Snape and dragged her fingernails across his cheek, leaving deep, red marks.

Draco pulled her away from him, pinning her arms behind her back.

"Release me!" she cried.

"I have not lied to you," Severus said through gritted teeth. "Potter died that night. If he has returned, then it is through magic neither you nor I can understand."

Bellatrix turned to Edevane, her eyes wide. "Potter is connected to the Dark Lord's mind. He is hunting him. Perhaps he has learned of the Dark Lord's mission. He knows something we do not."

She broke away from Draco's hold.

"We must act before it's too late. Before he kills him." She seized Edevane's robes. "Tell me where the Dark Lord has gone. What is he searching for?"

Edevane gave her an icy stare. "He did not confide in me."

"You lie!"

"Potter's there!" shouted Yaxley excitedly.

He pointed to Harry flying on the outer edges of the Thames. "He's heading south… we can cut him off at Vauxhall where our forces are stronger."

Bellatrix looked at the Death Eaters gathered around her: Gibbon, Rookwood, and Nott. Crabbe, Rosier, and Goyle. Carrow, Mulciber, and Rowle.

Macnair and Travers.

And lastly, Lucius and Snape.

"We must capture him. The Albanians will continue fighting. The Dementors are gaining ground, Helen and Mason McKay will lead the others." She turned to Edevane. "You can stay here if you like. I will not explain to the Dark Lord how I let Potter escape through my fingers a second time."

She reached for her broom.

Edevane flicked his wand and a jet of blue light circled around her wrist, dragging her to him.

"You will not go alone," he said, as she stumbled for balance. "We will do things my way or not at all." His eyes slid towards Draco. "We will all go."

At that moment the building behind them crumbled.

Quick as lightning they mounted their brooms, chasing after Harry, Yaxley in the lead.

Only they didn't see Draco's wand pointing at Yaxley's back, placing him under the Imperius curse.

Edevane smiled at Draco, knowing that Yaxley would lead the others to a place they'd never return from, a place where their magic would be their undoing…


The Death Eaters followed Harry though a labyrinth of alleys and tunnels, until he reached the ruins of an old building.

He landed in an empty courtyard where the earth had been blown apart.

Bellatrix and the Death Eaters made a nose dive for him, but he evaded them.

The Death Eaters dismounted their brooms, then, out of nowhere, jets of blue light twisted and spiraled into the air, expanding in every direction.

Stone walls began to materialize.

Draco watched as Rosier and Goyle caught up to Potter, Bellatrix at their heels.

"Kill him! Kill him!" she cried.

They threw curses at him, but their haphazard spells rebounded off the walls and flew in Draco's direction. He instinctively reached for his wand.

"Do not use magic!" Edevane warned him, dragging him out of the way.

Bellatrix was only inches away from Harry now. She chased him as he raced towards the far end of the courtyard, but stones were beginning to materialize and pile on top of one another.

Edevane turned to Draco."It's only a matter of time now…"

Harry jumped through a gap in the stones, and the wall closed behind him.

"No!" Bellatrix shrieked, hitting the wall with her fist.

She and the Death Eaters spun around, looking for another way out, but they watched, horrified, as towering fortifications solidified all around them.

Illusion charms had hid the walls from view, but Draco knew they'd stood there for centuries.

This was Halworth, the infamous muggle prison.

For seven hundred years London's heretics and traitors had been hanged here, drawing large crowds. But then, after a time, the muggles had reserved this place for wizards alone.

A criminal courtroom lay just within sight. It was here that the International Statute of Secrecy had been drafted.

Next to it stood the gallows, where countless witches and wizards had lost their lives.

It was rumored that the muggles had developed an elixir that temporarily weakened a wizard's magic—weakened them long enough to disarm, torture and hang them.

But it was only a rumor, and the elixir was never found.

Draco's blood chilled when he looked at the ground.

Dead Man's Walk.

The infamous stone-flagged passageway held the remains of long dead prisoners.

Names were engraved onto the stone walls above the passage—some of the most celebrated witches and wizards of their day…

Alchemists and inventors…duelists and scholars…

It had been a tragic loss for the magical world. And the start of a new era.

And worst of all, the muggles forced a select group of prisoners to cast curses and enchantments on the place.

It assured them that no one would escape.

Draco felt a chill run down his spine.

Anyone who performed magic here, would die here.

Long after it closed, the prison came to serve as a warning, avoided for centuries by muggles and wizards alike.

And for the next three hundred years, wizard-kind had been forced into hiding…until now.

Draco looked at the Death Eaters. They had made a fatal mistake. They had practiced magic here, and now, the prison would use magic against them.

But there was something else.

The rumored elixir the muggles had made…

It was real.

Suddenly, Draco knew how Voldemort had drained wizards of magic.

He had taken a muggle invention and perfected it, mixed it with his own magic, using it to weaken the Alliance and anyone who betrayed him.

And Draco knew now, more than ever, that Voldemort believed in nothing and no one. He did not fight for an ideal or a cause. He fought only for himself.

He would kill them all—muggles and wizards alike—indiscriminately.

The Death Eaters jumped when the ground below them began to shift.

The scattered stones beneath their feet were realigning themselves.

The Death Eaters grabbed their brooms, realizing where they were.

They tried to fly out of the courtyard but heavy enchantments forced them down, preventing them from leaving.

As soon as they landed, the brooms smashed themselves against the walls.

Yaxley looked over Edevane's shoulder.

There was a large iron gate behind him, and a heavy set of bolts locked themselves firmly into place.

"Why do you stand there?!" Bellatrix shouted, looking from Edevane to Draco, thinking he was Lucius. She looked at their wands, realizing they had not performed magic.

Edevane walked towards Bellatrix, passing the bronze execution bell Draco had only heard about in stories.

Behind the Death Eaters, a set of stairs led down to the infamous stone hold, where wizards were tortured and murdered.

Edevane spoke. "I warned you, didn't I Bellatrix, that you were walking into a trap?" He smiled at her, sly as a fox. "I failed to mention that I laid it out for you."

Her face quivered with anger, but she said nothing.

"Dutiful Bella Black…always so eager to please the Dark Lord. You were right earlier…there is nothing more dangerous than blind devotion."

Bellatrix spat in his face.

Edevane laughed. He wiped the spittle from his cheek and addressed the other Death Eaters.

"Muggle forces and members of the Alliance are gathered on the other side of these walls. You have nowhere to run."

"Lies!" Bellatrix shrieked, finding her voice at last. "We will find another way. Check the stone hold," she instructed the others. "Hurry!"

Draco's eyes landed on Snape, and he willed him to turn, to look at him, to see into his mind.

I'm not Lucius. I'm Draco. Don't follow the others, I'll find a way to help you.

But Snape's face remained impassive, revealing nothing, and his eyes were fixed on Edevane.

Edevane smiled cruelly as Bellatrix headed for the stairs.

Draco's stomach plummeted when he saw Rookwood pull Snape with him.

Suddenly, there was a bang.

The iron gates blasted open, and members of the Alliance spilled into the courtyard, Aksel Agarby in the lead.

In the commotion, Draco broke away from Edevane, chasing after Bellatrix, intent on reaching Snape before it was too late.


Draco tore down the narrow set of stairs, and nearly slipped when he reached the bottom. Just ahead, he spotted the Death Eaters running down a dirty and unlit corridor.

He chased them further into the stone hold, passing cells and chambers until they reached the lower levels.

He watched as the Death Eaters came upon an open sewer lined with chains and shackles.

Before they could spot him, he doubled back and hid in one of the corridors.

Carrow and Macnair touched the walls, searching for a door, but it was a mistake.

The irons hanging on the walls snapped around their wrists, shackling them in place.

They flicked their wands, trying to break themselves free.

"No!" Bellatrix screamed. "Don't use magic!"

Their spells ricocheted off the walls, hitting Gibbon and Mulciber.

The two wizards stumbled backwards.

When they hit the wall, irons clapped around their wrists too.

Bellatrix froze.

Something was oozing from the walls, something that reminded Draco of a potion he'd used in one of Snape's classes…he remembered it reacted strangely with curses…

Spells were flying in opposite directions.

And when another curse hit the wall, a roaring fire started.

The trapped Death Eaters screamed, writhing as flames licked their heels and traveled up their cloaks.

Carrow kicked his legs in agony, and his foot connected with Snape's shin, knocking him backwards with violent force.

Snape hit his head against the wall with a sickening crack.

Draco watched in horror as he slid to the ground.

Bellatrix and the remaining Death Eaters doubled back, searching for another way out.

They fled past Draco's hiding spot, storming down the corridor.

Draco ran into the chamber.

The other Death Eaters were shrieking, struggling against their chains as the flames scorched their flesh.

The edge of Snape's cloak caught fire. Draco stamped it out and he grabbed him, trying to shake him awake.

Snape struggled against him, thinking he was Lucius.

"It's Draco!" Malfoy shouted. "Stop moving! Stop moving! We have to go…"

Snape's eyes widened when he saw the smoke around them.

Draco seized his cloak and dragged him away.

When Snape could stand, they raced through corridors and passages, but Draco couldn't find the staircase that led to the upper levels.

He began to worry that they were lost. Nothing looked familiar…

Then there was a shriek.

Draco and Snape followed the sound.

They turned left then right then left again.

Draco's heart leapt in his chest when he saw the edge of Bellatrix's cloak.

She was shouting at the Death Eaters to move faster, as they

climbed the staircase that led back to the courtyard.

Draco reached for Snape's arm.

"I need to kill Edevane," he whispered, as he watched the Death Eaters go up the stairs two at a time. "I need you to help me." Draco moved towards the staircase, but Snape reached for his cloak.

"I made a promise to your mother," he said. "A vow to keep you safe. If the Alliance wins this war, apparition will become possible again. We'll have minutes to flee the country. Leave Edevane to the Alliance."

"You don't understand," said Draco. "The Alliance is protecting Edevane."

Snape stared at him, at a loss for words.

Suddenly, Draco doubled over. The last of the polyjuice was wearing off. His hair was shortening, and his height was returning to normal, suddenly his robes felt too large for him…

"Vow or not," said Snape, holding onto his shoulders. "I will stay and fight with you."

Draco looked up at him, gasping for breath. "You don't owe me anything. Why did you make that vow?"

There was a flicker of something in Snape's eyes…an old memory that haunted him.

"Years ago I, like you, loved someone fighting on the opposite side of Voldemort's war. Things did not end well for her. I'd like to see a different ending for you."

Draco looked into Snape's face. He had always watched over him…the way his father should have done. And he knew he would be forever grateful to him, no matter what happened…


Curses flew over Hermione's head.

But she couldn't stop, not now.

Not when Harry was so close.

She'd watched him tear through an old muggle prison, the Death Eaters at his heels, but he'd evaded them, and now he was going deeper into the city.

"HARRY!" she cried again, her heart thundering in her chest.

A muggle plane soared overhead and opened fire.

She stopped in her tracks.

In her blind panic to reach him, she'd run straight into Voldemort's Albanian forces.

Hermione covered her head with her hands and fell, curling into herself as the ground was torn open around her.

She felt a pair of hands on her, dragging her up.

Then she saw the edge of a cloak, Harry's cloak, the same one he'd worn when Bellatrix captured him in the tower.

Hermione stumbled again, but Harry's hands were firm and warm when he caught her, just as he'd done dozens of times before—when they were running through the Forbidden Forest or tearing down the passages of Hogwarts.

He helped her stand, and Hermione looked into his face.

Black hair. Pale skin. Green eyes.

But it wasn't him.

Hermione felt her chest constrict.

She reached up to trace the scar on his forehead.

Something was wrong. It was too thin, placed by an illusion charm of some sort…

The boy searched for his wand, but it was lying on the ground, ripped away from him in the explosion.

There was a rumbling sound, and they both craned their necks to look up at the sky.

"We have to move," the boy said, tugging on her arm. His voice was deep, nothing like Harry's. "There's more planes coming."

Hermione kicked at him. "Let go of me!"

"I'm on your side!"

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him."Who planned this?" She yanked her arm free of him. "The Order? The Alliance? A Death Eat—"

"It wasn't a wizard!" shouted the boy. "It was a vampire," He pointed at the muggle prison behind them.

From where they were standing, Hermione could see into the courtyard of the prison. She spotted Edevane and members of the Alliance…but standing in the shadows was Sebastián and the Arévalos.

"The man with the golden eyes. He asked me to fly around the city and pass for Harry. The patronus…the stag…it was an illusion."

Hermione felt her breath catch. Sebastián was always ten steps ahead of everyone…moving them like pieces on a carefully constructed chessboard…

The boy spoke again but she wasn't listening.

Her legs felt like led.

If Harry was alive he'd have found her by now. He wouldn't hide.

He wouldn't run.

And that only meant one thing.

He was gone.

Hermione's vision swam.

He'd never left Inverness alive.

She guessed Sebastián had buried him in an unmarked grave, hoping to fuel his legend…

"We have to move!" the boy shouted as the planes drew nearer.

When she didn't reply he left her side.

Hermione looked at the prison again.

A handful of Death Eaters were running into the courtyard. And then out of the corner of her eye, she saw someone else emerge.

Wisps of white-blonde hair blew into his eyes, and his tall and slender frame moved cautiously up a pair of stone steps.

Hermione felt the world slow down.

Draco was alive.

She stared at him, paralyzed.

She thought he was dead, killed by Voldemort or Bellatrix…

She willed herself to move, to run, devastated by the loss of Harry, but driven by the hope that she still might save Draco.


Bellatrix and the Death Eaters ran into the courtyard, leaving the others to burn in the stone hold.

Dark figures emerged from the shadows and surrounded them.

Bellatrix gasped when she saw Sebastián and the Arévalos.

The Magical Alliance stood by, watching as the vampires closed in on their targets.

Draco and Snape took advantage of the distraction, and raced up the stone steps, taking cover behind a pillar.

The Death Eaters knew they were outnumbered but they refused to give up. They fired curses at the same moment the vampires attacked.

A shower of spells lit up the sky like fireworks. The light reflected off the courtyard's stone walls, illuminating the faces of those watching.

The Death Eaters fought relentlessly, but the vampires were stronger and faster. One by one the Death Eaters were cornered, disarmed and beheaded.

First Rookwood and Nott, then Crabbe and Rosier, followed by Rowle and Travers, Goyle and Yaxley…until Bellatrix stood alone in the center of the courtyard.

"Accio!" Edevane shouted.

Her wand flew into his outstretched hand.

She turned to him. "Traitor!"

Edevane laughed. "I was not about to let the Dark Lord bring the country to ruin."

She marched up to him. "And you think the Order will let you live?"

"I have ensured the deaths of the Dark Lord's closest followers. And I have made an unbreakable vow, with Alastor Moody. Your deaths for my freedom. I will be protected."

Bellatrix screamed.

Edevane raised an eyebrow at her. "Your passion for the Dark Lord is misplaced, Bellatrix. You don't know him as I do. And he never trusted you with his secrets. Your loyalty should have been to me."

Edevane turned to look behind him, searching for someone in the crowd. Then his eyes landed on Malfoy.

"Wouldn't you say so, Draco?"

There was silence.

Bellatrix turned to her nephew.

"Draco?" she gasped.

He stepped forward.

"But you killed him," she said to Edevane.

Bellatrix looked at Draco's cloak and realized it was the same one Lucius had worn earlier.

Her eyes widened as she realized his betrayal.

Draco screamed.

It felt like an invisible dagger was twisting its way into his skull.

His vision blurred and the only thing he could hear was Bellatrix's voice in his head…

You've allied yourself with the man that tortured your mother.

Draco grimaced, fighting to remain conscious.

Only for now, Aunt Bella. Only until I can kill him myself.

You have betrayed the Dark Lord, he will have your head…

Draco felt fire course through him.

No Aunt Bella, the Alliance will have yours…

Bellatrix saw Sebastián move towards her and the color drained from her face.

"Draco," she said, reaching for his arm. "You must speak for me."

Edevane laughed.

Draco pulled away from her. "You must account for your crimes, Aunt Bella."

Her eyes bulged in their sockets, and she reached for his collar. "I should have killed you myself, before you cursed me and let the mudblood go free." She stepped closer to him, her lips quivering. "You're no better than me. History will remember you as a Death Eater. And so will your precious mudblood."

Bellatrix clutched his hand, pressing his father's ring into his finger. "You are a Malfoy until the end."

He snatched his hand away, unwilling to let her sink her hooks into him any longer.

He looked down at the ring and slipped it off his finger.

"I don't believe in the Dark Lord, or his cause. I was born a Malfoy, and I'll certainly die one…" He looked at the Death Eaters lying on the ground. "But I'm not like them, and I'm not like you."

He threw the ring at her feet.

Bellatrix stared at him, unblinking, then slowly, the corners of her mouth curled up into a smile—a smile that made his blood run cold. "I never did let a traitor go free," she said.

He swallowed, not understanding what she meant.

She turned her attention to Sebastián.

There was dead silence in the courtyard as she moved towards him.

Draco held his breath, an unpleasant feeling settling into the pit of his stomach.

Bellatrix faced Sebastián and knelt before him. She grabbed the hem of his cloak, her hands shaking. "I can prove useful to you. I can elevate the status of your kind." She looked at the Magical Alliance. "You mean nothing to them. They'll discard you as soon as you've served your purpose."

Sebastián's golden eyes showed no mercy.

"I have no use for a witch."

He snapped his fingers and two vampires stepped forward.

They forced Bellatrix to stand, bracing her.

Sebastián moved towards her, placing his hands on her neck.

He stroked her skin."This will only be a moment…"

She kicked and screamed against him, but it was a wasted effort.

Sebastián tore her head from her body.

His cloak was soon drenched with her blood.

Everyone gasped as he tossed her head.

It rolled across the courtyard, illuminated by the moonlight.

Draco felt his stomach turn over.

Although her head was severed from her body, Bellatrix's eyelids flickered once, twice before her face lay still.

Her screams still haunted the wind, and there was no mad gleam in her eyes, only a desperation to cling to life.

Blood soaked her raven hair, and seeped into the stones beneath her.

The prison was drinking her in, fortifying itself with her magic.


Just when Hermione thought her knees would give way, she reached the outer edges of the prison.

She had to get to Draco, explain to the Alliance that he—

Her arm was yanked roughly.

"You will go no further," someone hissed.

Hermione spun around and found herself staring at Nerina.

"We must go to the catacombs."

Hermione heard a rushing sound overhead.

Members of the Order were flying towards the prison. She recognized Moody, Bill, and Charlie accompanied by several others.

They'd kill him. They'd kill Draco.

Nerina put her hands on her shoulders. "Don't lose your head now. We have a greater purpose, to stop Tom Rid—"

She stopped short as a dozen planes flew in their direction.

The Albanians rushed towards them, trying to move out of the way.

They were shooting spells haphazardly, failing to hit the planes.

Nerina swore loudly.

Hermione took her arm and forced her to move, knowing they'd have to run for cover.

And there was only one place to go.

The iron gates of the prison swung open as Moody and the Order flew inside.

Hermione and Nerina doubled their speed, launching themselves into the courtyard just as the gates clanged shut behind them.

They pressed themselves against the wall, hearing the screams and explosions that rocked the world outside.

Moody looked at the Arévalos, then the bodies of the dead Death Eaters. "I see you've delivered as promised," he said, turning to Edevane.

Hermione felt someone watching her.

Her breath caught when she locked eyes with Draco.

She wondered if he still hated her, if he still thought she'd killed his mother…

"Now that they're dead…" said Edevane. "The Dark Lord's army will falter…it's only a matter of time."

"Check the underground chambers," Moody growled to the Order. "Make sure there's no survivors."

"There's a fire raging down there," said Agarby. "Best not to take the risk."

"Then check the bodies in the courtyard," Moody barked.

His eyes landed on Draco and Snape.

He was about to command Charlie to seize them when Edevane intervened. "Young Mr. Malfoy is my servant, he owes me a life-debt. He assisted in the capture of the Dark Lord's inner circle. As for Severus Snape…I've long suspected he worked as a spy for Dumbledore. You may interrogate him if you wish. Or kill him. It makes no difference to me."

The Order checked the bodies of Voldemort's followers.

"They're all dead," Charlie said.

"Not all are dead," said Moody, his mouth stretching into a grin.

He pointed at Edevane. "Kill him."

The old wizard stiffened, forcing a laugh. "We made an unbreakable vow, Alastor. If I die, you draw your last breath too."

Moody shrugged. "I'm already a dead man." His blue eye swiveled in its socket. "I've been withering away for months." He tapped his chest. "Disease of the lungs. I never expected to see the other side of this war. And neither will you." He turned to Charlie. "Kill him."

Agarby spoke again. "You can't do magic here, Alastor, you'll be cursed. Take him outside."

Two of Agarby's guards seized Edevane and disarmed him.

Another two captured Draco and Snape.

They waited for the muggle planes to pass then the guards dragged their prisoners outside.

Nerina steered Hermione through the gates, warning her to keep quiet.

There were craters in the ground where the street used to be.

The Alliance and the Arévalos poured outside, circling around Edevane.

"And those two?" Bill asked, nodding over at Draco and Snape.

Moody snapped his fingers.

The Order trained their wands on them.

"No!" said Hermione, stepping forward.

Moody's eyes widened, seeing her for the first time.

"Ms. Granger," he said. "Returned to us at last. Not suited to life on the run I see…"

"They're not loyal to Voldemort—"

"We'll deal with those two later," Moody said impatiently. "Kill Edevane."

Charlie turned towards him, but at the same time Edevane muttered an incantation, using wandless magic to slice his guard's ear open. The man shrieked and dropped his wand.

Edevane caught it before anyone could react.

There was a sound like the crack of a whip and Hermione shot forward.

Edevane seized her, digging the wand to her temple. "One step closer," he warned the Order. "And she dies."

"NO!" Draco shouted. He tried to move but Agarby's guards yanked him back.

Hermione twisted in Edevane's grip. "You're bluffing," she hissed. "You can't kill me. You need me to defeat Voldemort. The prophecy—"

"My luck has changed Ms. Granger," Edevane snapped. "And so has yours. Death is not a possibility I've prepared for."

"Accio!"

Bill's broom flew into his outstretched hand.

She and Edevane soared into the air, just as the allies shot curses at them.

Draco's guard released him, choosing to fire at Edevane instead.

Draco looked at Charlie. "I can stop him! Help me!"

Agarby and Moody were shouting instructions at the others.

Charlie turned to Bill.

He nodded at him.

Charlie tossed Draco his broom.

Edevane was flying higher and higher, and Hermione was struggling to hold on.

Draco streaked after them, spells shooting past his ear.

"Don't hit them," he yelled at the Magical Alliance as they fired more spells. "You'll kill them both!"

But the Alliance paid him no mind.

Their spells soared into the air and hit the tail end of Edevane's broom.

It swerved dangerously and Edevane lost control.

Hermione tried to disarm him, but he swung at her and they went into a nosedive.

"No!" Draco shouted.

She lost her grip and fell sideways.

Hermione's screams rent the air as the ground rushed up to meet her.

Draco zoomed forward, mere inches away…

Her body collided with his and his broom swung left.

Hermione cried out, certain she was going to fall again, but Draco threw his arms around her waist.

He fought to steady the broom as it streaked towards the ground.

Hermione reached for the handle, and together they pulled out of the dive, righting themselves.

They flew lower, trying to find a place to land.

"He's getting away!" Moody shouted at the Order, his eyes fixed on Edevane.

"Hold on!" Draco shouted.

And just when he and Hermione were inches above ground, a rogue spell hit them.

They crashed to the floor and Draco looked up, raising his wand. Edevane was nearing the edge of the prison.

"Avada Kedavra!" Draco shouted.

The curse rocketed upwards, streaming towards its target.

The spell hit Edevane squarely in the chest, toppling him over.

He fell through the air, and his cloak flew over his head.

Hermione covered her mouth with her hands.

"Don't look," Draco whispered.

She buried her face into his shoulder.

Edevane's body landed on the iron spikes of the prison.

The spikes ran through him, impaling him and breaking his bones.

The crowd grimaced as blood dripped down the gates.

The last surving member of the Original Seven, the man who had helped pave the way for Tom Riddle's reign of terror, was finally dead.

At the same moment, Moody's knees gave way.

He had broken his vow, and he was ready to pay the price with his life.

Charlie and Bill knelt over him, feeling for a pulse, but he was gone.

There was no trace of fear in his eyes.

Moody's lips were parted in a smile, the look of a man proud of a job well done.


Draco felt the ground sway beneath him.

His knees buckled.

"Draco?" Hermione asked, as he sank to the floor.

Snape rushed to his side and removed his cloak, looking for wounds.

"Stand back Ms. Granger."

"But I want to help—"

"I said, stand back!"

Bill reached for her arm.

"Hermione, please. Come with me and Charlie…"

Draco tried to focus on Snape's face, but his vision was blurring.

"Your ring?" Snape asked suddenly. "Where is it?"

Draco cried out. It felt like someone was twisting a knife into his stomach.

"I took it off," he gasped. "It's in there."

Draco turned his head towards the prison.

Snape ran away from him. He swung the iron gates open and looked inside.

He moved the bodies scattered on the ground, and crawled on his hands and knees until he found the ring wedged between two stones. Something like acid was leaking from it…the metal was disintegrating…

He returned to Draco moments later, holding the ring in his hand.

"I'm sorry," he said.

Draco looked at Snape's outstretched palm.

It looked like the ring had melted.

Then he remembered, Bellatrix had pressed it into his flesh.

I never did let a traitor go free.

The family rings. Voldemort had done something to them. If any of his inner circle betrayed him, or abandoned their roles as Death Eaters…they'd be cursed.

And Bellatrix had goaded him into renouncing the Dark Lord out loud.

Drao looked down at his hand, it was turning black.

"It's a slow poison," whispered Snape.

Draco's body shook slightly. "Don't t-tell Hermione."

"Are you—"

"Don't tell her."

Hermione broke away from Bill and Charlie. "What's wrong with him?"

"A bad spell, but he will recover," Snape lied quickly.

Nerina appeared at Hermione's side. "We have to go…"

Hermione knelt beside Draco and touched his face, whispering into his ear. "I need you to know, I didn't kill your mother."

Draco trembled again.

"I know," he whispered, struggling to form words. "My f-father, he told me. I'm sorry—"

Draco's pupils dilated and his rapid breaths made his chest rise and fall too quickly.

Hermione looked at him, terrified.

"It will pass," said Snape next to her. "This is the worst of it, but it will pass.…"

Tears trickled down Hermione's face, and she leaned her head against Draco's. "I found Catherine's daughter." She looked at Nerina. "We're going after Voldemort. I—I have to kill him."

Draco reached for her hand.

"You can do this, Hermione, you were born to end this war."

She kissed him, and it was the first time he kissed her back free of guilt.

She would survive this war, he could feel it in his bones. She would survive despite his betrayal and his family's attempt to break her.

And even though Draco's body was failing him, his soul was at ease.

Hermione would live and that's all that mattered.

Their lips parted and the salty taste of her tears lingered on his lips. He wished he had a thousand more kisses to give her. A thousand more moments to make up for the pain he had caused her.

Hermione took Draco's hand.

"I love you," she whispered. "Hold on for me, please…"

She remembered Salazar's curse.

Let those who love her meet a tragic end.

She couldn't lose him too.

She turned to Snape. "Please…take him away from the fighting." She looked at St. Paul's Cathedral. "Somewhere high above the city."

It was then that Hermione noticed that Sebastián and the Arévalos had left. They had moved to the center of the chaos, and were fighting Voldemort's forces again.

She felt her chest constrict.

If Sebastián disappeared, she would never know where Harry was buried.

She turned to Draco again. Snape lifted him and their hands were forced apart.

Tears filled her eyes, but then Hermione felt Nerina's hand on her shoulder, and soon they were running…faster and faster…as the war raged all around them.

Helen and Mason McKay were fighting to keep Braaten's forces at bay. The Albanians were urging the Romanian vampires to attack the Arévalos. And the Dementors were scattering, weakened by the Bulgarian's curses.

"There it is!" shouted Nerina, pointing to a crumbling church by the Thames.

They doubled their speed, and a rogue curse streamed towards them just as they reached the entrance.

They dove inside, missing it by inches.

The doors slammed shut behind them, and Hermione gasped for air.

It was time to go down, to the catacombs.


AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Thank you for reading! I hope you're all excited for the HP cast reunion coming up in January, I know I certainly am! Stay safe and I'll see you in the New Year. The last two chapters will post then :) In the meantime, I'd love to hear your thoughts ;) (One side-note, in canon Hermione is referred to as the "brightest witch of the age" but I've changed it to "greatest witch of the age" for the purposes of this story).