Author's Note: Evening Wizards, Witches, and Golden Snitches. First and foremost I want to thank my beta, TigerAndDaisy for her amazing work! Second, we have an announcement. I will be moving to a bi-weekly posting schedule instead of a weekly one. Life has kind of sucked lately. Plus we need more time to write/edit that a week turnaround time does not allow. Thank you for your patience and understanding.
The chugging and sway of the rail cart against the track violently woke Draco from his sleep. He blinked, looking around at his surroundings with a dazed expression. The shade on the compartment window had been drawn close, and the overhead light kept flickering. As his eyes began to focus, he noticed that he was sitting inside the Hogwarts Express, moving full speed ahead towards an unknown destination. Except he wasn't alone.
"Harry?" Draco croaked out. He rubbed sleepily at his face before blinking once more. This man across from him looked like Harry, except for some noticeable differences. His glasses were square instead of round, and his hair was cut closer to his face than the preferred shag Draco's best friend often adorned to hide the lightning bolt scar on his forehead. Which speaking of…
"What happened to your um…." Draco pointed towards his forehead, drawing his finger in a zig-zag shape.
The man who looked like Harry chuckled. "Bloody Hell, it worked!"
"What…"
"Sorry! Hello, Draco Malfoy. I never thought I would say this, but it's a pleasure to meet a friend of my son's."
All the oxygen in his lungs left as Draco's jaw practically dropped to the floor. "Good Godric, this is not happening."
"Oh, I believe it is," Mr. Potter replied nonchalantly before looking around again in wonderment. "Your dreams are so vivid. No wonder you are a Seer."
"No! You don't understand." Draco shook his head in disbelief. "I do not talk to dead people. That is a line I do not cross."
Mr. Potter chuckled again. "Apparently, tonight you do."
The jerk of the train cart followed by the whistle announcing their arrival distracted them for a moment, drawing Draco's attention to the window. He rolled his eyes, realizing he could not see, before reaching out and attempting to pull up the shade to peer outside.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you. Wait until we get to your destination," Mr. Potter suggested politely. "Besides, we're running out of time, and I haven't told you what I came here to relay."
Draco sat back in his seat slowly, eyeing the ghost… or maybe it was a spirit? A soul? Regardless, he observed the figure before him curiously. "Alright."
"Right, sorry. I know I just kind of hijacked your dream… important stuff to still experience and all that… but you need to know this. Things are not what they appear."
"Mr. Potter…."
"Oh, please. Call me James. Mr. Potter makes me feel so old," the man insisted.
Draco's mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. "Okay," he shook his head. "Let's go back to what you were saying."
"Yes," James agreed. "Normally, I'm not supposed to interfere. You know, rules about being dead and all that, but I felt you needed a little extra help this time."
The train began to slow, indicating they had pulled up to the platform.
"Right, listen up. Someone who you have been trusting all this time hasn't been completely honest with you." James said frantically. "And before you ask, no it isn't Snivellus. As much as that pains me to admit, he really is trying to keep you alive."
"What do you mean…."
"I have to go now, but pay close attention. And, if you can, exercise some compassion towards her. She means well and wants you safe." James insisted.
The compartment halted, letting out a wheeze to expel the steam. The shade suddenly rolled up, revealing they were at the 9 ¾ platform in Kings Cross Station. Draco blinked, another question posed on the tip of his tongue, but he turned to find James had disappeared before he could ask. His eyes bore into the spot where the figure of Harry's father had been sitting, almost like he was willing the spirit back into existence when the compartment door opened.
"Are you ready to go, Draco?" Luna asked. "We ought to hurry. Don't want to miss our transportation."
He stared at his cousin for a long moment before silently rising from his seat and following her onto the familiar platform.
"I can't wait to get home. I hope daddy made pudding," Luna stated whimsically.
Before he could respond or move any further, there was a commotion coming somewhere off to the side. Two Death Eaters in black robes and skull masks rushed towards Luna, grabbing and pulling her away. It all happened so fast that Draco had next to no time to react. By the time he reached out his arm, mouth open to scream, they had already Apparated in a cloud of dark smoke.
Draco woke, sweat beading on his forehead and pillow clutched in his fist. He blinked into the everlasting darkness of the early hours of the morning, trying to determine where he was and what had happened to Luna. Realizing that he was back in his bed in the Gryffindor dorm room, Draco released a loud sigh of relief as he relaxed his tense muscles.
He had a prophetic dream again; only James Potter had somehow managed to crash his way inside this time. Even just speculating on the logistics of how that happened made the headache behind his tired eyes grow stronger. He'd skipped sixth year divination where they focused on communicating with those who were already passed, and after this experience he'd felt that he made the right call in not continuing the course.
Who was going to betray him? Was it someone he trusted?
If you can, exercise some compassion towards her…
Draco sighed. At least James had been gracious enough to narrow the suspect pool to half the population. Even if he could find the person, what did the portion where Luna was taken by Death Eaters mean? Unless… was she…
No!
He quickly dismissed that thought, trying to scrub the image of her terrified face from his brain as he pulled back the curtains around his four-poster bed. Draco had a few hours until the house would need to line up and head down to the meal, but after that disturbing experience, he found he couldn't stay in his bed any longer. Instead, Draco resigned himself to preparing his uniform and looking over his schedule for the day on the couch next to the fireplace until it was time.
As he scanned the worn piece of parchment, Draco couldn't help but let out a groan.
Divination
He'd been forced to take up the subject against his will, which he didn't know why considering he spent the entire time in a trance-like state with Trelawney's guidance. This coming month of lessons would be no exception.
The months were practically flying by for Draco, which was surprising considering he was fighting for his right to survive every day. He'd gotten an ear full from McGonagall after using Dobby to contact the Order, but once he explained the purpose behind the interaction, she'd changed her stance slightly. Draco came out of that meeting, promising he would not use the house elves for further communication, and went about his day.
As far as DA business went, November was no different than October except for the increase in student care needed after prolonged exposure to the torture curse. Though most of the members had stopped speaking up in class against the Carrows (because, really, that wasn't accomplishing anything), it didn't curve the Death Eaters' reign of terror over the student populace.
Several were fearful of speaking at all, even when they were surrounded by their peers in places like the Great Hall or their Common Room. These were dark times indeed, and they were only going to worsen.
Draco went through the motions of the day, trying his best to stay optimistic but vigilant of his surroundings, especially as he was making the hike to the Divination classroom. He hated climbing up the ladder to the attic-like classroom and the onslaught of Jasmine and Mugwort incense that hit him every time he stepped into the room.
"Ah! Welcome, welcome children," Trelawney greeted.
He gave the Professor a curt nod before sitting next to Padma Patil.
"Today, we will continue to induce trances and safely look inside the inner eye. Each of us can tap into the beyond and see what you need to know," Trelawney informed them.
"Not again," Padma whispered. "I feel like I'm drugging myself, and not in a fun way."
"In a way, we are," Draco said quietly. "Mugwort has been proven to possess psychedelic properties, especially when ingested through more potent methods like tea."
Padma sighed. "Guess we should be thankful she's not making us drink it."
"Or directly smoke it," Lavender Brown pointed out.
"Second-hand smoke is just as bad for you," Draco mumbled when he heard someone snickering behind him. He turned around to find Crabbe and Goyle, looking guilty as ever, at a table not too far from him and his partner. "Got something to say, oaf face?"
Their taunting smirks instantly fell from their faces as they glared back at the blond Gryffindor. "What's it to you, Malfoy," Goyle sneered.
"Fucking blood traitor," Crabbe spat.
Draco instantly rose from his seat, but Padma wrapped her arm around his body to prevent him from lunging towards the two Slytherins. "It's not worth it. Stop before you get into serious trouble," she begged.
"Children, children," Trelawney drawled in a bored tone. "The first act of violence will not be within the confines of my classroom."
At that, Draco slowly lowered himself back into his seat. When Padma felt he was no longer on the verge of attack, she let go of her partner and opened her textbook on meditation and trances.
"How about you take a few deep breaths, and I'll attempt to guide you," the Ravenclaw offered.
Draco forced himself to exhale before nodding his head. He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on Padma's voice as his mind went blank. When he had gone into the prophetic trance during his OWL, he had not been able to recall anything afterwards. Mostly that was because his blood sugar had dropped so low that he needed to be taken to the Hospital Wing (an experience he had no desire to repeat again). The goal of these lessons was to try to keep the mind active while viewing the message coming through the inner eye. By exerting this level of control, Draco could theoretically remember what he predicted, but first, he had to get through this.
"Tune your intention to your breath," Padma's soothing voice instructed. "Your mind is clear as the pool of water in front of you."
The dark abyss transformed behind his eyes and morphed into a beautiful blue lake. A drop of water hit the glassy surface, sending a ripple across the pristine image. Draco watched with a sense of intrigue as the tides began to show him a scene, almost like he was looking through a pensive. Except, it wasn't a memory he was viewing, but something that had not happened yet.
He saw the train in his dream and was watching himself and Luna walk across the platform. Like in the vision before, two Death Eaters came out of the shadows and snatched his cousin from his grasp. He tried to scream, to reach out to save her and redeem himself from last night, but he was too late again.
Suddenly, the image of the lake was gone, and Draco was looking at Padma and Trelawney. He could smell the incense residue before hearing the final bell ring announcing the period was over.
Draco reached up and scratched the back of his neck, realizing that everyone was packing up.
"Well done today," Padma congratulated him. "You said something about Luna. Is she alright?"
"I…" Draco looked up, finding Padma eyeing him with concern. "I don't know what it means, but the same thing I saw in class was what I dreamt last night… or, well, I guess early this morning."
"Dear, would you mind staying after?" Trelawney asked him.
Draco tried not to roll his eyes as he approached the high-strung woman. She had a journal out and aggressively scrawled away at the pages with her quill.
"Now, what was this dream you had?" she questioned.
"Why do you want to know?" Draco countered.
Trelawney waved a hand carelessly, refusing to make eye contact with Draco. "No reason," she mumbled. "Just trying to assist with your… sight."
Something he didn't know what triggered his intuition. For one, Trelawney never asked him to elaborate on his sessions. In fact, she had always been close by, almost hovering every time Draco came out of his trance. She had always taken a particular interest in his visions, but this year had felt almost possessive. Whether it was her guilty posture or her noncommittal answer, Draco knew there was something up.
"That's very kind of you, Professor," he answered carefully. "But I think I can figure it out for myself, thanks."
Trelawney's eyes widened in fear. "Oh, no, dear! You must!"
"Must what?" Draco's tone dropped dangerously low as he narrowed his eyes towards the woman.
Trelawney cowered under the penetrating stare and began biting her nails nervously. She mumbled incoherently, but Draco didn't care for her excuses. Instead, he stepped into her sphere and swiped the book out of her hand. Trelawney moaned and wept about how someone would kill her when Draco started flipping through the pages. They were entries of various dates, all on days and times he had a class with her, but only when he was put under the trance.
September 10, 1997
Mr. Malfoy did not have any visions in class but claimed he saw swirls of black apparition clouds.
September 24, 1997
Mr. Malfoy saw the Whomping Willow burning to the ground. Claims it was reminiscent of a previous dream.
October 8, 1997
Mr. Malfoy described visions of battle. Various duels with different people and spells ranging from stunners to deadly force.
A rage Draco had not felt since when he was a child began to bubble up inside him. He allowed the ire and hatred to burn his veins from the inside out until they expelled into flames. The notebook caught fire in his hands, forcing him to drop it to the ground and allow the evidence compiled against him to incinerate.
"What have you done!" Trelawney screeched. "Now, there is no hope for me!"
At first, he sneered down at the groveling woman who was shakily picking at the ashes of her notes. Draco didn't want to care about her sobs and her sorrows. In fact, he wanted to just walk out the door and never return, but he could hear the advice Harry's dad gave him the night before playing in the back of his mind.
If you can, exercise some compassion towards her…
Was this what he was referring to? What was this really all he was trying to warn Draco about?
Draco sighed, looking up at the ceiling and praying to Circe to give him strength. "Why were you collecting my trances?"
Trelawney sniffled. "It was for Headmaster Snape. He said that the Dark one was… interested in what you prophesied and that it was somehow connected to the one he shares with Harry Potter. He wanted me to record and report at the end of the term if you… if you…"
"If I had another prophecy," Draco breathed out shakily.
She nodded. "Minerva said it was okay, that if I did then the Carrows or another Death Eater wouldn't kill me."
What? That didn't make any sense. Why would his Head of House be working with Snape if he had betrayed the Order? She was the one in contact with them, relaying what was happening within the school and having healing potions smuggled in for Draco to use. He filed that information away for later and fully intended to confront his Head of House.
Suddenly, he felt like the reason he was still alive was making sense. It wasn't out of some compassion You-Know-Who had for his followers to reward them with subjects for their new test program. No, the Carrows had enough without Draco. He was alive because he was considered a commodity. His psychic gift had someone intrigued and terrified the wizard, to the point that he needed to keep Draco alive long enough to learn how his Prophecy connected in all this. Now, he understood why all the lucid dreaming and induced visions were necessary.
Draco looked down at the Professor as she pulled harder at her wild, bushy hair and moaned into the ruined work. Images of her dead, cold body next to what remained of Professor Burbage began to play behind his eyelids. He shuddered and then knelt next to her.
"I'll help you," Draco offered kindly.
Trelawney blinked before she wiped her nose. "What?" she croaked.
"Obviously, I can't produce exactly what you wrote, but we can start a new notebook and write something down. Cryptic, but enough to keep He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named at bay."
And, more importantly, keep us alive.
Trelawney gasped. She moved forward on hands and knees until she could pull Draco into a bone-crushing hug. Her sentences alternated between thanking him and apologizing for almost turning over his visions to the Dark Lord. Draco, awkwardly, patted her back and told her he understood. These were dark times they lived in, and he couldn't blame her for being so terrified when given an order from the person who could kill her with a snap of his fingers.
"Come now," Draco ordered gently as they pulled out of the embrace. "Get another notebook."
And so, he skipped his Charms lesson and spent the next hour helping Trelawney make up the work he destroyed.
December 5, 1997- Grimmauld Place
Hermione was going to murder Sirius Black. She had spent the past 25 minutes pacing back and forth while arguing with him about a plan to extract and save Draco.
"It's a simple but efficient operation. Kings Cross is an open location, which means it would only require two people at most to Apparate in, grab him, then Disapparate out."
Sirius sighed. "It's too risky."
Hermione huffed. "We've taken risks like this before."
"No, we actually haven't," Ron muttered under his breath, the statement only causing Hermione to glare at him.
"Why won't you…."
"Hermione, we've been over this. Draco is safer at Hogwarts for the time being," Sirius insisted.
"For how long?" she cried out in exasperation. "His days are numbered, and if you let him stay there, eventually Draco will be killed. If not by the Carrows, then by someone else. Nott had no problem Avading Dumbledore."
Sirius' mouth formed into a thin line as he glared back at Hermione. "McGonagall needs him there. Last we talked, she said Draco was helping to organize the students and keep them out of the Carrows' clutches."
Hermione's mouth was poised for another argument, but she stopped when Sirius raised a hand. "Of course, I care about Draco. You know I do, and I will not stand here and listen to you accuse me of such slander." He sucked in a deep breath before exhaling it slowly. "That's the last word I will have on the subject. Does anyone else have any suggestions for places to look for Horcruxes?"
The room was deadly silent as Hermione plopped back into her seat. Angry tears had formed in the corner of her eyes when Harry stood up.
"I do," he said confidently. His eyes carefully looked around the room before he landed on his godfather. "I'd like to go to Godric's Hollow Harry continued in a passionate stance when no one moved to debate his declaration. "It's where I was born. It's where my parents were murdered."
"But don't you think that's exactly where he will expect you to go? Because it means something to you?" Remus pointed out.
"And it means something to him too!" Harry implored. "You-Know-Who almost died there! I mean… isn't that the type of place he would likely hide a Horcrux?"
"It's dangerous, Harry," Arthur voiced before looking to Sirius for backup. To the room's surprise, Sirius shook his head.
"I've been thinking, especially recently, that we must go there."
Sirius' endorsement shocked half the room while the rest of the Order looked around, unsure how to respond. Deep down, they all knew Harry was right, but no one dared admit it so outright.
"We can keep it small," Sirius said, halting any room for disagreement. "No more than two teams. Four people total."
When Sirius dismissed the Order, Hermione stormed out of the kitchen and headed towards the library immediately. She slammed the door shut, indicating that she didn't want to talk to anyone or be disturbed. Hermione paced back and forth across the creaky hardwood, trying to dispel her anger before reaching out to take the book on top of the stack closest to her. She threw her body down into the chaise before opening the book aggressively.
The Tale of the Three Brothers
She sighed. Of course, she would open it to this story. It was the only one that was marked with a weird symbol at the top that she could not decipher. Hermione ran her thumb over the ink, curiously tracing the triangle first before following the curve of the circle and then down the center line. She stared at the symbol, willing it to reveal its secrets, when the door creaked open.
"Hermione?" Ron called out tentatively.
Hermione rolled her eyes and ignored him. She pretended to be reading as she heard Ron step in and look around for her. "How are you doing?" he asked.
She didn't say anything.
Ron sighed. "Look, I know you're mad…."
"The word you're looking for is livid," she hissed.
"Right, you're livid," Ron mimicked. "But listen. Sirius is right. When we got our last report from McGonagall, Draco was doing good work at the school. He's making a difference and helping kids who would have been left defenseless if he wasn't there."
"Doesn't change the fact that you promised me that you would help me get him out," Hermione spat.
"I know…"
She felt the cushion of the chaise compress near her feet, indicating Ron had invited himself to take a seat.
"He's going to be alright, you know." Ron's voice, though was comforting, did little to ease her worries. "As soon as he isn't, we'll get him."
"And what if we're too late?" Hermione whispered.
"Don't. Don't say that," Ron begged, shaking his head. "Nothing bad is going to happen to Draco."
"Something bad IS already happening to him. Why can't anyone see that!" She waved her hand and summoned the newspaper into her hands. It was an older edition from back in September and reported on the various changes being made to Hogwarts and its curriculum. One of Snape's first duties as Headmaster was that he modified the Muggle Studies course and renamed Defense Against the Dark Arts to just 'Dark Arts.' Who he hired to teach those courses was another story.
"The Carrows?" Ron gasped. "You mean those lunatics are teaching Draco, Ginny, and all our friends?"
Hermione nodded.
"I can't imagine…." Ron trailed off.
"No, you can," Hermione retorted. She sat up and glared at him. "Draco and everyone else we love is possibly being tortured. If you read further down in that article, Muggle Studies is a required course for anyone who needs to be 're-educated' on Muggles and muggleborns and the danger they pose to Wizarding Society."
"Bloody Hell," Ron exclaimed.
"Now tell me I'm overreacting," she snapped.
Before Ron could comment, Sirius opened the door and popped his head in. "Ron, Hermione. I want you both to call it an early night. You're going with Harry and me on the Mission tomorrow."
They both acknowledged Sirius and waited for him to close the door before resuming the conversation.
"Okay, okay. I see your point," Ron mumbled. "But we can't do anything about it now."
"I know," Hermione sighed. "The mission."
Ron reached out and squeezed her wrist. "One day at a time," he reminded her.
Hermione sucked in a breath, prepared to argue when she suddenly felt the energy drain from her. Instead, she deflated and nodded her head. "One day at a time."
When Remus walked in, Hermione, Ron, and Harry were waiting in the living room for Sirius. "How are you three doing?"
They all looked confused by the question for a moment before Harry answered for them with a silent shrug of his shoulders. "Where's Sirius?"
"He's getting some Polyjuice ready with Tonks," Remus informed them.
Hermione nodded. "That's a good idea."
Harry grimaced. "Couldn't I just wear the invisibility cloak?"
To the dark-haired wizard's dismay, Remus shook his head. "We need to take all necessary precautions, including using as many disguises as possible."
Just then, Sirius and Tonks walked into the room, three vials of the grotesque brown liquid ready to administer.
"Right," Tonks breathed out. "We stole these hairs from random muggles outside, so no one would have a chance to recognize you."
The three Gryffindors nodded before adding the hairs to the potion. Hermione's turned into an almost butter color with a swirl of bright orange occasionally peaking through the currents of the liquid.
"Well, cheers," Ron said, his tone uninspiring as they chugged down the solution.
Within minutes the four of them were changed into various people before holding on to Sirius. "Right, hold tight."
The swirl of Apparition only made Hermione sick for a second before she regained her footing on the frozen cobblestone ground. Snow started to swirl around her feet as the harsh bite of the winter night nipped away at her exposed skin.
"Welcome to Godric's Hollow," Sirius said.
Hermione noticed it was a small community of homes with only a church, post office, a pub, and a few local shops. The timber-framed cottages looked picturesque on the December night with their Christmas decorations and lamps flickering behind the fallen snow.
They circled the town square before walking by a graveyard. Harry paused, a despondent look covering his face.
"Do you think they're in there?"
He had voiced the question so low that Hermione also thought he didn't say anything at all.
Harry turned to face her. "My parents," he clarified. "Do you think they're in there?"
"Yeah," she breathed out. "I think they would."
Sirius and Ron came to stand next to them and looked upon the graveyard with a similar expression as Harry. In comparison, Sirius' appeared to be more haunted, but even the ghosts and losses of his past did not keep him from taking Harry's hand and walking past the gate.
The four spread across the small area, looking at the various tombstones for familiar names. A weird mix of calm and anxiety rushed through Hermione as she felt her boots crunch into the freshly fallen snow. Something in her intuition was telling her they shouldn't be there as the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. She shook the warning away and began pushing snow off some of the older stones when she froze. Underneath the third or fourth one she uncovered was a familiar symbol towards the top of the slab. It was the same triangle with a circle and line that was drawn into the book that Dumbledore left her! Quickly recovering, she moved her whole arm across the rest of the marker, revealing the full name.
"Ignotus Peverell," she said out loud.
"Did you find something, Hermione?" Ron asked.
"I…" she whipped her head around to find Ron was standing over her shoulder. "This symbol. It's in the book that Dumbledore gave me."
"You mean the fairytales? Why would that be in a book about children's stories?" Ron pointed to the top of the tombstone. "Or even important enough to be on someone's tombstone?"
"I don't know," she whispered. "Hey, Harry?" Hermione called out, but when she looked up, he was clear across the graveyard with Sirius. They were standing near the back by a large, sold garnet marker closest to the fence and the church. She and Ron moved to see what they were looking at when Hermione noticed the names.
It was a companion gravestone, indicating that a loving husband and wife were buried here. On one side was etched 'James Charlus Potter' while directly opposite was 'Lily Marie Potter.' Harry stared with melancholy at the names, his head resting on Sirius' Polyjuiced shoulder as they shed quiet tears. Hermione, not wanting to interrupt the moment, silently rotated her wand and conjured a wreath to rest in front of the marker.
The white flowers began to bloom around the evergreen stems, taking root and honoring Harry's parents' sacrifice. The dark-haired wizard sniffled and wiped his nose with the back of his hand. He glanced over and gave Hermione a grateful look.
"Thank you," he whispered.
Hermione smiled kindly at him when she once again felt the uneasy sensation she had when they first entered the graveyard. Slowly, she moved her head to see that an older woman had entered and was watching the four of them.
"Sirius," she whispered as she turned her head back to face them. "Someone is watching us."
Her movements were forced and stiff, reminding Hermione of a doll or a puppet on strings. She motioned with her arm and hand, indicating for them to follow her.
Sirius looked up, making eye contact with the old hag. He shook his head in surprise. "It's Bathilda!"
"Bathilda? Like Bathilda Bagshot?" Hermione gasped.
"Who?" Ron asked.
"The historian," Hermione hissed before turning back to Sirius. "Do you think she can be trusted?"
"Only one way to find out," Harry stated before moving forward.
As they followed the old hag towards a home, Ron revealed he had found Dumbledore's family buried in the graveyard as well. "His mum, dad, and his sister. Ariana is what the stone said."
Everyone ignored Ron as they turned down a side street and faced a ruined house. Harry's breath caught in his throat, and Sirius began to shudder from something that had nothing to do with the cold.
"This is it," Harry whispered. "This is where they died."
Sirius pulled Harry back to his side again as a fresh wave of tears fell from his eyes. "I should have never convinced Remus to switch with Peter. You would have never had to grow up without them."
Harry squeezed Sirius, trying to stop the apologies and guilty acknowledgments. "It's okay. Pettigrew is gone."
"I know," Sirius said shakily.
"Besides, You-Know-Who would have never stopped until he got them. At least this way, they are at peace and not being hunted," Harry proclaimed.
Sirius nodded. "True. It's just… so unfair. They were such good people. The best of us all."
"Death doesn't discriminate between the sinners and the saints. It just takes."
Everyone stopped what they were doing and stared at Harry with wide eyes.
"Damn, Mate. That was surprisingly profound," Ron whistled.
Harry chuckled. "An original Luna quote that I can't take credit for."
They were turning to walk away from the ruins when they came face to face with Ms. Bagshot. The first thing Hermione noticed that was off about the woman was the profound stench that surrounded her, following the buzzing of flies around her head.
"Come."
The stilted command spurred the group to follow her further down the row of cottages to one that was sort of tucked at the end of the row. The door opened with what Hermione assumed was wandless magic before Bathilda motioned for them to step inside. When they entered the dark home, she began shuffling around the place, trying to light candles.
"Here," Harry stopped her shaky hands. "Let me help you with that."
She grunted in response before picking up a candle and heading towards the staircase.
Ron turned to Hermione with wide eyes and mouthed, "I don't like this at all."
Hermione nodded back and turned to Sirius. "We should leave," she said quietly.
Harry moved to set the candle he had just lit on the fireplace when he noticed a picture of a young man staring at him. He was handsome with long hair like Sirius, but he had eyes that almost bore into his soul.
"What is it, Pup?" Sirius asked.
"I… this man. He looks… familiar… Ms. Bagshot! Who is this man?"
The old hag ignored him and began walking up the staircase.
"Careful," Sirius cautioned as he followed right behind.
Ron lit his wand. "Should we follow them?"
Hermione did the same. "I guess."
They began slowly trailing down the hallway, careful not to touch the dirty walls, when she came across a small side table. On top was a book with a note.
Dear Batty,
Thanks for your help. You land everything, even if you don't remember.
~Rita
Hermione flipped the piece of parchment to reveal a purple cover with a round portrait of Albus Dumbledore.
"The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore?" Ron read out loud before scoffing. "Of course, Rita Skeeter would capitalize on his death as soon as possible."
She didn't know what compelled her to do so, but she pocketed the book into her beaded bag before continuing on their trek. They were just about to step up the stairs when Ron smacked away at another fly.
"Damn pest," he mumbled.
Hermione stopped in her tracks, noticing that the buzzing from the bugs had increased in volume and frequency.
"What are you doing?" Ron asked as she stepped off and circled around to look under the stairs. She regretfully pushed the door open, sending a swarm of flies into her face. As Hermione batted them out of her line of sight, the light from her Lumos spell caught something reflecting off the ceiling. She paused, looking up with wide, terrified eyes when she realized they were slashes of flesh and blood marks.
"Harry! Sirius!" she screamed at the same time Sirius shouted, "It's a trap!"
Ron ran up the stairs first, followed quickly by Hermione. They stopped at the threshold, finding Bathilda's body on the ground and a Python hissing at Sirius and Remus.
"Is that…"
"You-Know-Who's familiar! It's Nagini!" Sirius screamed. "He's coming! We have to go!"
The shield that Sirius had thrown up was starting to dissolve under the snake's attacks. Ron, only mildly panicking, shot off a stunner towards the snake. It had little effect on the creature, only adding to the monster's ire. Nagini hissed at Ron and Hermione, turning her whole body and head towards her new target.
"Run!" Sirius ordered. "And Apparate back to Headquarters!"
Before Ron or Hermione could say anything, Sirius grabbed Harry and disappeared. Nagini hissed in displeasure at losing Harry and Sirius but quickly redirected herself when she realized Ron and Hermione were running down the stairs.
"Remember," Hermione said as she grabbed Ron's arm. "Destination. Determination. Deliberation."
Hermione closed her eyes, picturing the warm living room at Grimmauld, before she stepped forward and pulled Ron into her swirl of magic. She faintly heard him screaming before they landed spread eagle on the rug near the fireplace.
"Wotcher!" Tonks shouted as she, Remus, and Sirius moved into action.
"He's been Splinched," Remus commented before he yelled up the stairs for Hestia to find Andromeda and bring her here.
Hermione sat up and gasped when she saw Ron seizing on the floor, his left arm bent behind his back and gushing blood.
"Ron," Hermione breathed out as she tried to crawl towards him, but Harry stopped her. "It's okay, Hermione. He's going to be okay."
Everything happened so fast. Andromeda stepped through the floo and began applying Dittany to the wound before she had Tonks help her administer a pain potion. She then ordered Remus to levitate him up and onto a bed so that she could wrap the arm and allow the injury to heal.
The whole time, Hermione watched with guilt and disbelief that she had allowed Ron to be Splinched, that she had hurt one of her best friends.
"It's okay," Harry soothed. "You saved his life, Hermione. You got him out of that hell hole of a cottage."
Hermione let out another shaky breath as she let Harry hold her and rock her back and forth until her sobs subsided.
December 13, 1997
"You ready?" Neville asked as he lugged his trunk behind him.
Draco slammed the lid of his shut. "Yeah."
He was absolutely livid. After spending this whole semester trying to stage a rebellion, he was looking forward to being able to move about the castle without having his movements watched. But, no. He received an owl demanding he return to the Manor for the break. All his plans to sneak out through the Room of Requirement and then Apparate to Grimmauld were destroyed.
He didn't want to make things harder for any of the other students or Professors, so he packed his trunk without any complaint and followed Neville down the stairs to join the rest of the students traveling home for the break. He wrapped his red scarf tight around his neck as she handed off his luggage to the porter and boarded the train. Neville pointed to an empty compartment. When the train pulled away, Ginny joined them sometime after her Prefect patrol, and then an hour after that, Luna also popped into a seat.
"Luna! Why are you here? I thought you were staying at the school?" Draco exclaimed.
His cousin shrugged. "I know you told me something bad will happen if I come home, but Draco… we can't constantly live our lives in fear."
He scoffed. "You can if it's based off of a prophetic dream."
"Two words-"Luna held up her hand, ticking them off with her fingers- "Free will."
Draco rolled his eyes at her, prompting Luna to continue her argument. "Besides, daddy wrote me and said he missed me and didn't want to be all alone. I couldn't say no."
He didn't know how else to get through to her, so Draco sat back and remained silent throughout the journey.
He didn't speak until they pulled into Kings Cross. When he saw the steam exhaling around the train, he began to feel anxiety course through him as his flight and fight responses kicked in. He grabbed Luna's hand, refusing to let go when they walked off the steps and onto the platform. After looking around for a moment, he began to relax enough that Luna yanked her hand out of his grasp.
"Honestly, Draco. I'm…"
But the words were spoken too soon. Two Death Eaters converged on their location, the one coming from the right knocking Draco to the ground and leaving him with a bloody nose. He looked up through the pain and saw as Luna was pulled away and enveloped in a cloud of black smoke. It was just like his vision, her face contorting into panic as she helplessly reached out towards Draco to save her. There was nothing he could do except clutch the bridge of his nose and watch as Luna was snatched away from him.