Thestrals were odd creatures. Hermione couldn't see them - see their broad wings or their odd-colored flesh – but she could feel it. It was sturdy beneath her and her knees clamped down on its spine; a tiny chirp escaped what she could only assume was its head and she awkwardly stroked the invisible creature's mane. Luna had helped her onto her thestral and she couldn't help but know that one day she'd be able to see these creatures.

She was morbidly curious to see them, but dreaded the idea all the same.

When the power beast kicked off from the ground and into the sky, Hermione bit back a startled squeak, fisting its mane in an attempt not to fly off. Draco's thestral was just a foot behind hers, offering her some semblance of comfort. She knew there was no way her Slytherin companion would ever let anything happen to her.

Flying with thestrals was different than riding on Bella's broom. They were fast – ridiculously fast, she might add – and the journey was bumpier. It actually made her miss Bellatrix's broom and that was something she never expected to say.

She could make out Ron's mumblings but the howl of the wind in her ears was too powerful. Luna seemed to be enjoying the flight, but Neville was turning an odd shade of green. She wondered, should he vomit, would it land on someone below?

Merlin, that'd be gross…but also hilarious.

The sunset was gorgeous ahead of them and the lights of Hogsmeade seemed to soften the ominous cloud of despair settling in their collective stomachs. Whatever they were walking into wasn't going to be pretty – and was bound to turn into a battle none of them had ever faced. Though Hermione knew the Death Eaters wouldn't fire killing curses, someone could easily be injured and the idea of her friends being hurt made her ill.

Well, except for Ron. If he was hurt, oh well.

She absently touched the sphere in her pocket and sighed. This mission would give one side or the other an advantage and she could only hope, when the time came, she would choice the right one. But there was something that had been bothering her for years, really. Why would anyone rely on teenagers to perform impossible tasks and basically decide the outcome of a war? There were grown men and women fighting – discretely, mind you – every day but somehow they wanted a group of teenagers to…to…

Hell, she didn't know what they wanted at this point.

From day one, Dumbledore had known this would happen and in a way, he'd groomed them. He'd given Harry the cloak – whether Harry realized who gave it to him was neither here nor there – and allowed him to participate in a potentially deadly tournament. He had suggested they travel back in time to save Sirius' life (though technically he didn't come right and tell them to, but it was heavily implied), and maybe she was being critical, but that was entirely too "puppet master-y" for her taste. He had nudged them into a war long before they even knew there was one.

The thestral jerked as it descended to their destination and Ginny shouted in surprise. For a Quidditch player, she was having a rather difficult time with this flight.

The moment the creature touched the ground, Hermione scrambled off its back and landed haphazardly on her feet. Ron had completely fallen from his therstal's back and Hermione snorted. She couldn't help but enjoy watching Ronald Weasley fail. It was just too perfect.

"If I never ride one of those beasts again it'll be too soon," Draco mumbled, taking his usual place at Hermione's side and attempted to make his somewhat presentable – or at least not so windblown.

"Tell me about it," Ginny groaned, rubbing her throbbing thighs. She'd clenched too hard on the way down and she was positive her muscles would be aching in protest for days.

Harry helped Ron to his feet, huffing. "Quit complaining. We have to hurry!"

He rushed toward the nearby phone booth that looked like it had seen better days and ushered them in, first Draco and Hermione with Neville trailing behind, his front pressed against Hermione's back. His stuttered apologizes were adorable but entirely needless. Luna, Ginny and Harry squeezed in and Hermione started to feel claustrophobic. The air seemed thinner and the heat of from their bodies made the booth uncomfortably warm.

"Dial six two four four two, Malfoy."

Wiggling his arm forward, Draco did as instructed. He was at an awkward angle, but he managed it. The box came to life and Harry quickly answered all of the questions. Badges appeared in the change slot and they were distributed swiftly, since no one wanted to face Harry's ire. He was already irritating; no need to make it worse.

The floor of the booth started downward and the group stood in weighted silence. The Atrium was empty: no guards, no officials milling about. They were utterly alone and that made everything more daunting. When was the Ministry ever this vacant?

Harry tumbled out the moment the door opened and scrambled forward, eyes flickering about with apprehension.

"Shouldn't there be guards or something?" Draco whispered, voicing the question no one dared to.

"There should be," Ron replied, "Dad says this place always has someone here so that no one can, well, break in and take something."

Harry sprinted through the hall, the others following closely. The echoing of their footsteps was upsetting; only the sound of rushing water filled the silence around them. Coming upon the lifts, Hermione swallowed roughly. She was positive her father had something to do with the lack of witches and wizards – or maybe Bella. She wouldn't put it past her witch to stun them and stash them elsewhere.

She liked wreaking havoc.

The gate of the lift opened and they all crammed inside once more. Harry pressed the appropriate button, flinching when it gave a start. The ride was noisy; they could hear every part of the machine as it lowered them to their floor. The overhead voice broke the monotony of metal clanging.

"Department of Mysteries."

Torches illuminated their path and an intimidating steel, black door stared back at them. It was frightening in a way no inanimate object should be and Hermione leaned absently against Draco, taking in the sight. Ginny was a mere step ahead of her and her pale hand reached back for Hermione's. This is the day they had trained for – and it was terrifying.

"Maybe you guys should –"

Hermione glared at the Golden Boy. "Do not finish that statement or so help me God I will hex you."

Harry gulped, but figured arguing would be a lost cause if his friends' faces were any indication. Even Ron had grown tired of his protesting. They'd come this far, why stop now? There was a good chance, should this go sour, that they'd all end up in Azkaban anyways so they really had nothing to lose.

When Harry stalked to the door, Hermione held her breath as it swung open to greet them.

-X-

Bellatrix had never been in the Department of Mysteries before. It was dark and cold, the walls black with prophecies lining the shelves. The ceiling was high and the shadows cast made for going hiding places. She and Lucius were close together, only a shelf separating them though she could see him, the bright blue bouncing off his mask. Dolohov and Greyback were across the way, waiting for the signal. She had no bloody idea where Yaxley and Rodolphus had disappeared and, frankly, she didn't bloody care. They farther away they were the better.

Potter would come. He always does.

Bellatrix was eager for a fight, but nervous all the same. She'd only dueled with Hermione, never against. Her lover was brilliant, but the Death Eaters had years of experience in battle. Most had fought in the First Wizarding War alongside the Dark Lord. The reason they were still alive was because they were the best at what they do. Her companions knew to avoid severely injuring the teenagers, but accidents happen – especially in what is perceived as a life-or-death situation.

Trusting Hermione with such a vital task bothered her. Hermione was young and inexperienced; she was only a fifth year and while powerful, she hadn't tapped into her full potential yet, nor learned to control the power flowing through her veins. Bloodlust fueled her magic and it could easily consume her if she didn't master it. If she did feed off Bellatrix's energy, she would be a deadly opponent and the darkness in her soul could unleash itself and overrule every speck of light Hermione prided herself on. She was already graying, walking a thinning line; one shove could very possibly knock her over the edge.

She wasn't ready for that.

The thud of a door a ways off seemed deafening the stillness and Bellatrix shrunk back into the darkness. They were cloaking themselves from sight, but they were being as careful as possible. They could hear different rooms opening and closing, though Harry hadn't stumbled across this one yet. He would, though. The Dark Lord's dreams were very specific and very repetitive. If he didn't find it, he'd have to be a blithering idiot.

But, then again, he was friends with blood traitors.

She could hear Hermione's voice through the door just before it opened and she fought to keep from running to the girl's side. Her heart thumped painfully in her chest and she heaved an inaudible sigh. It was time.

-X-

Hermione's heart fluttered, butterflies pounding against her ribs and energy pulsating from her fingertips. Bellatrix was in there; this was the right room. She didn't know if that was exciting or frightening.

It was a mixture of both.

She gripped her wand tighter and nudged Draco with her hip. He glanced at her and she mouthed, "Be careful."

Realization – or some form of it – dawned on him and lit his eyes. Nodding, replied silently, "You too."

"This is it," Harry breathed, stepping inside.

Hermione peered along the shelves as they crept inside, hoping to catch a glimpse of her lover but knowing she wouldn't. The rows were long and she could just barely make out the ends of some, but others were consumed by darkness.

Sixty-nine.

They were searching for ninety-seven because "that's where I dream it is." She wasn't too sure if she trusted his dreams but what did she know? Maybe he wasn't a lunatic and maybe Sirius was there.

Ninety-four.

She ventured a glance down the hall and her heart stuttered wildly. There, in a hazy cloud of something, was Bellatrix. She was staring at her with wide eyes and Hermione knew she wasn't supposed to see her; knew, if she were anyone else, Bellatrix wouldn't exist.

You can see me. It wasn't a question but a stunned statement.

The others can't.

Turning her gaze away, she stopped beside Draco.

"H-he's down there," Harry insisted, his throat scratchy and his scar aching. "You just can't see him."

Hermione blinked, studying Harry's paling face and the sweat sliding along his neck. His Adam's apple bobbed anxiously and she was positive he was no longer certain of anything.

He's not here, Bellatrix thought, confirming what she suspected.

It was all a trap – and Harry had tumbled headfirst into it like he always did.

Harry and the others raced down the line of shelves, their wands lit and the glow of the orbs shimmering against the floor. Hermione was hesitant but followed their lead. She couldn't give herself away; they were here for a reason and Hermione had a mission to complete.

He slumped in defeat when he realized no one was there and his features grew weary. Sirius wasn't there, but where could he be? He wasn't dead; surely he would have felt him die…

Right?

"Mate," Ron called, trying to gain Harry's attention before he fell into the vat of despair that was his mind.

"What?" Harry snapped, rubbing his palm against his eyes. He wasn't going to cry and he didn't want to hear them taunting him or pointing out that he'd been wrong.

Biting the inside of his cheek, Ron pointed at one of the orbs. "This one has your name on it."

Harry's head shot up and he shoved the Gryffindor out of his way. He ignored Neville's protests and Ginny's worries, reaching out to grab it.

Hermione leaned over and pressed her mouth near Draco's ear, "We have to get that away from him." Draco's brow furrowed in confusion, but he nodded all the same.

Harry tugged the prophecy from its home and grasped it firmly.

"Give me that, Potter." Lucius' voice sounded from behind them and Hermione jerked, spinning to face the man she'd come to see as a sort of fatherly figure. The others were crawling from their hiding spots, surrounding the teenagers.

Even Draco was stunned to see his father, taking a step back and into Neville, who absently steadied him. It was one thing to know your father is a Death Eater and another entirely to actually see him act like one. His mask was glittering in the light and as it disappeared, Draco couldn't help but be frightened. He'd never seen him look quite so…

Wicked.

"Malfoy," Harry spat, holding the prophecy close to his chest and raising his wand.

"Father…" Draco gasped at the same time, his hand covering his mouth slightly.

Lucius smirked and extended his hand, "Give me it, boy." His smirk transformed into a sneer and his features sharpened. His blue eyes darkened menacingly and he stepped closer, nearly chest to chest with Hermione who was unlucky enough to be stuck between Harry and Lucius.

Ginny grasped Hermione's robe and yanked hard, forcing her backwards with a yelp. Keeping herself upright, her focus never left the blonde Death Eater.

"Now, Potter!"

"I know you've got Sirius." Harry was proud that he hadn't stuttered, despite the pounding of his heart.

Hermione's eyes drifted to Bellatrix, heat settling low in her belly at the blood red lips of her lover quirked up deviously. She'd seen that look before; Bellatrix's head resting against her thigh, warm breath brushing along her overheated flesh, the ache almost too much to bear…

"You're quite awful at determining what's reality – and what's a dream, Potter." Lucius huffed in amusement. "Now, give me the prophecy."

"Itty bitty baby Potter just never learns," Bellatrix taunted, tilting her head and running her tongue along her teeth.

Merlin, Hermione, quit fantasizing about that tongue and focus!

Harry lifted his wand and the others followed, their hands trembling under the Death Eaters' gazes. He was clearly trying to goad Lucius into attacking, but Lucius remained stoic.

"It doesn't have to be this way, Potter. You give me the prophecy and no one will get hurt. Do you really think I want to attack my own son?" Lucius rolled his eyes in exasperation.

"I don't believe you," Harry hissed, "You'll do whatever Voldemort tells you."

Bellatrix's eyes narrowed into slits and she aimed her wand at Harry. "You filthy half-blood! How dare you speak his name?"

"Calm down, Bella," Lucius soothed, patting his sister-in-law's arm, "He doesn't know any better, do you, Potter?"

You need to calm down, Bella. If you destroy it, we're all in trouble. I'll be in trouble.

Choking back her fury, Bellatrix softened her hold on her wand. Hermione, Hermione, Hermione…

"Now, what's so special about this prophecy anyways? What does it have to do with me? And why does Voldemort want it so badly?"

Bellatrix ground her teeth.

Hermione caught a flash of red from the corner of her eye, but Bellatrix deflected it quickly and turned on the offender, disregarding the prophecies that tumbled from their perches and nearly hitting the Death Eater. "Are you fucking mad, Yaxley? If that prophecy is destroyed, it's all of our heads!"

The smoky wisps rising from the broken prophecies held the vague appearance of people, their words lost in Bellatrix's shouting.

"Don't play dumb, Potter," Lucius sneered. "You know why."

Harry froze.

Elation filled Lucius and he started chuckling earnestly. "You don't, do you? You don't know why you have that scar or why he tried to kill you? I was certain the old man had told you, but now…" he shook his head and laughed louder, "That explains why you haven't come for it sooner."

"W-what are you talking about?" Harry swallowed, nudging Hermione as Lucius' boisterous laugher was joined by the others'.

Hermione hissed, but slowly leaned closer to Harry. "What?"

"When I say now, start smashing the prophecies." Lucius' laughter died away and Harry's expression never faltered. It was as if he'd never said a word.

"The Dark Lord expected you sooner, Potter. He was rather surprised it has taken you so long. He wondered why you didn't care about the prophecy."

"He wanted me to get it? Why?" Harry demanded, keeping Lucius distracted while Hermione relayed the message to the others.

Lucius blinked once. Twice. Hermione had never seen him look so owlish before and it was rather hilarious. Too bad now was not the time to laugh.

Harry plans to destroy the prophecies when he gives a signal. Be careful.

Lucius started ranting about the ins and outs of prophecies and why it was so important; Hermione tuned him out. She knew all the intricacies and did not feel like hearing them again. She wondered if Harry's would do what hers had – if the Dark Lord and Harry both needed to touch it.

Harry twisted his wand slightly and Hermione prepared herself. "Now!"

Reductos were flung in every direction, some hitting their marks while others – Neville's – missed spectacularly. Hermione was determined to train him after this. His casting was atrocious.

"Run!"

Harry sprinted through the shelves, narrowly dodging the falling prophecies as they plummeted to the ground. Hermione followed after him, Draco and Ginny hot on her heels. She lost sight of Neville, Luna and Ron but she could only hope they avoided getting pelted. Two Death Eaters – she was almost certain one of them was Dolohov and maybe Macnair? – chased after them and threw spells in their direction, but all of them missed their target.

They weren't going to actually touch them until Hermione had the prophecy.

They barreled into the nearest room and dove inside. "Colloportus!"

"Good thinking," Harry mumbled, eyeing the orb in his hand critically. He glanced between his hand and the door at the end of the room. "Merlin…"

"Give me the prophecy," Hermione suggested, her gaze earnest and nonthreatening. "They won't expect me to have it and you'll be able to cast faster without having to worry about the bloody thing."

Thoughtlessly he thrust it into her hands and nodded. "Good idea. You'll keep it safe?"

"Of course." She tapped her wand on the glass sphere and whispered a quiet protection charm before tucking it in the pocket opposite the fake.

The real prophecy is in my right robe pocket. The fake is in my left.

Harry bolted for the door, ducking around whatever the Ministry kept in the room. There were bell jars and eggs that repeatedly hatched. A few overturned desks were near the end of the hall and as the door behind them slammed open, the teenagers dove behind them. Ginny was at Hermione's side, peeking over the top cautiously.

"Find them! They couldn't have gone far." Definitely Dolohov.

Lunging out from behind, Hermione shouted, "Stupefy!" and watched regretfully as the other Death Eater flew back before smacking into the wall and slumping motionlessly onto the floor. Dolohov leveled his wand directly at Hermione's head but it was obvious his heart wasn't in it. She'd seen him fight; he was fast and mean. This man was giving her an opportunity and she had to take it.

"Rictusempra!" He was her friend and she wasn't going to hurt him if she could help it.

"Go!" Hermione shrieked, scrambling to her feet and making a break for the Hall of Prophecy. It wasn't safe going through the other door if they hadn't the foggiest where it led to.

A shrill cry from another room echoed through the Hall and Hermione's heart stopped. If Yaxley was with the other Death Eaters, who's to say Rodolphus or Rabastan weren't too? They weren't exactly known for following the rules.

The Hall spun and disoriented the group. Why the Ministry decided this was a good feature, she'd never know. Draco gripped his head and slammed his eyes shut, his stomach flipping at the motion. This was definitely not how he envisioned his evening. Was it still evening? Hell, it might be morning. Time seemed irrelevant here.

Hermione caught sight of Nott and Mulciber – their masks long gone – starting in their direction. They fired off a multitude of spells, but Ginny's "Protego" sent them flying back and struck both men in the chest. They didn't stay to watch what happened.

There was a bang and two bodies crashed through a door, their limp forms slamming into a shelf and knocking it over entirely. Luna came out of the hole the Death Eaters created with a proud grin on her face with Ron and Neville close behind, though they were staring warily at the Ravenclaw.

Dashing through shelves, Harry burst through the nearest door and skidded to a stop, the others nearly hitting his back. The Brain Room. Hermione hurriedly charmed the door behind them, but she could hear the Death Eaters scampering about and trying to get through the others that lined the walls.

"Hurry! Before they get in!"

They started casting spells, but Hermione bit her lip and gauged the others' awareness. None of them – aside from Draco – were paying her any mind so she made sure to miss one of the doors by mere inches. She needed to get caught so Bellatrix could get the prophecy. There was no possible way to get both of them back to Hogwarts without someone noticing something.

She twisted about, watching the others pant and bend at the waist. They were exhausted; being chased through the Hall and a plethora of doors was too much. They could hear the Death Eaters banging on the doors, but only one gave way. Bellatrix stood before them in all her leather glory, a demented look in her eyes, her pupils dilated beyond belief. Hermione forgot that bloodlust was an aphrodisiac for the dark witch.

The heat in her groin roared into a blazing fire. She wondered if part of her horniness she was experiencing was because of her bond with Bellatrix. What's to say Bellatrix wasn't sharing that lust bubbling inside with her?

"You're trapped, Potter." Bellatrix laughed maniacally, sauntering forward.

Harry peeked over his shoulder. "No we're not." Hermione nearly face-palmed in disbelief.

He is awful at subterfuge. It's a wonder he's not dead yet.

Turning on his heel, he sprinted for the door. He was hoping to draw the Death Eaters away from the others, but alas, that wasn't the case. It seemed they had interest in his friends as well.

Hermione winked at Bellatrix and dashed after Harry, the others faltering before following her lead. There was nowhere else to go. Every door was locked besides the one the Death Eaters were blocking so what other choice did they have?

The stone archway Harry had frozen before when they'd first arrived glared at them from its perch on the dais. Harry seemed entranced by the towering arch, oblivious to the footsteps clicking against the rock stairs. Hermione tackled Harry out of the way as a jet of red narrowly missed his head, wheezing slightly. Landing on a stone floor was entirely too painful and it had knocked the wind from her lungs.

Everyone attempted to raise their wands, but in a flurry of smoke and motions, a few of the Death Eaters had a teenager trapped – aside from Harry who was facing off against Lucius near the arch. Dolohov was holding Luna's arms tightly, keeping them behind her back and eyeing her warily. She was the one who had stunned Avery and Crabbe through the door; they were still dazed and shaken up.

He needed to be careful and keep her wand out of her hands lest she toss him about like a ragdoll.

Mulciber had Neville in a headlock, applying enough pressure to keep him restrained and somewhat limp, but completely unharmed. Ginny had a wand pressed against the base of her throat, Greyback completely indifferent to her squirming. Goyle Sr. was keeping Ron still, who seemed a bit too frightened to really fight back. Draco was a statue beneath Gibbon's grip, eyes trained forward. He didn't want to see too at ease, after all.

Hermione's back was firm against Bellatrix's front, one hand clasped teasingly around her throat with Bellatrix's arm wrapped tightly along her waist.

"Where's the prophecy, Potter?" Lucius growled, scrutinizing the Gryffindor.

"Gone. I smashed it. There's no way in hell I was going to let you get it."

Shifting slightly in Bellatrix's hold, Hermione "accidentally" garnered Lucius' attention.

"Take her wand, Bella. She's considered the smartest witch of her age for a reason."

Bellatrix purred, "Gladly." Her fingers tightened, tips pushing dangerously – but oh so deliciously – into Hermione's skin and she forced Hermione into the nearest wall with a thud. She angled herself just so, hiding Hermione from view. Ghosting her free hand along her lover's sternum, it drifted into her right pocket. The moment she came in contact with the orb - and conveniently, Hermione's wand – she ripped them from her robes and tucked them into her corset, making a show of it as to not raise suspicion.

Hermione still wasn't sure where Bellatrix was stashing the orb. She was too busy staring at Bellatrix's lips and wanting nothing more than to kiss away that devious smirk instead of paying attention.

They returned to their original position and Harry sagged with relief. If Bellatrix wasn't screeching with joy, she must not have found it. Lucius noticed his slump, but pretended he hadn't noticed a thing. Really? Can this boy not keep a poker face?

Bursts of light filled the room before Lucius could continue and he sidestepped Sirius as he appeared next to Harry on the stone platform.

"Get away from my godson!" He threw a wild punch in Lucius' general direction and the blonde man jerked back.

Bellatrix released Hermione in favor of engaging her cousin, a deranged cackle filling the air as she skipped into the fray. Ginny elbowed her captor in the nose and he howled, shoving her away as he pinched his broken nose. Dolohov, sensing the impending danger, knocked Luna in the head with his forearm and moved as far from her as possible.

Hermione didn't notice how Draco or Neville escaped and didn't really care if Ron did. Honestly, if something happened to him, she wasn't sure she'd shed a single tear. She watched Ginny bolt to Tonks' side and join in on slinging spells, working in tandem with the older witch. They seemed completely in sync.

Neville was trying to help Kingsley, but he was clearly a hindrance and not an aid. Rolling her eyes, Hermione rushed over and gently nudged Neville out of the way of an oncoming Stupefy. She fired off a simple Reducto and the Death Eater dove away from the blast.

"Good job," Kingsley called over his shoulder before his attention was taken by another Death Eater (she was almost certain it was Yaxley).

Dragging Neville away, they ducked behind a rock and Hermione peered over it. At some point Dumbledore had arrived and was engaging Mulciber and Macnair, Bellatrix was dueling with Sirius near the arch, Lucius was flinging spells at Remus and Rodolphus was eyeing Ginny sinisterly. She could hear him say something, but his words were drowned out by the nearby fighting. With a weird flick of his wand, a jet of orange burst from the tip of his wand and Hermione watched in abject horror as Tonks shoved Ginny aside and it slammed into the center of her chest. Blood began pouring from the gash that appeared and Tonks slumped instantly to the ground.

She ran faster than she ever had.

Dropping to her knees next to Tonks' motionless body, she started chanting Episky repeatedly, using her other hand to try and stop the bleeding. Ginny was frozen, eyes wide and unseeing.

That was meant for her…

Bellatrix glanced in Hermione's general direction, feeling her lover's despair. Concern blossomed in her heart at Hermione's frantic gestures and abandoned her fight with Sirius, letting Avery take over. She rushed to the Gryffindor's side.

Snapping out of her stupor, Ginny shoved Bellatrix away before she could kneel, surprising the dark witch who stumbled backward. "Get away from her!"

With a flick of her hand, Bellatrix silently knocked Ginny unconscious before she could hex her, but made sure to soften her descent to the ground. Hurting her mate's friend definitely wouldn't gain her any favor.

"What happened?" Bellatrix demanded, studying her niece's paling body.

"R-Rodolphus shot a nasty curse at Ginny and Tonks saved her. I don't know what it was but she won't stop bleeding!"

Bellatrix blinked before her expression darkened. She may have hated her sister for what she'd done – marrying a filthy mudblood and becoming a blood traitor – but Nymphadora was still blood and her family's blood should never be spilled, especially by Rodolphus Lestrange. Mudbloods should have never come into existence, but her Lord himself was a half-blood and he would not approve of one dying – even if she was the product of a mudblood.

Even they had a place in his new world.

Bellatrix rushed into the fray, searching for Dolohov in the chaos before seizing the back of his robes when he was close enough. He dutifully followed the Dark Lord's right hand, jogging to keep up with her as she dragged him to the downed body.

"Leave and take her to Cissy immediately. Tell her Rod cursed Nymphadora and she will know what to do." He hesitated for a moment and she hissed. "Now!"

Nodding, he gingerly lifted the bleeding Auror into his arms and rushed from the room, his robes suddenly dripping crimson. Hermione was genuinely stunned no one had noticed their fallen comrade but it was too late to concern herself with it. She could only pray her friend survived.

Bellatrix smiled regretfully before disappearing into the skirmish once more, ganging up on Sirius with Avery at her side. They traded blow for blow and a sickening green light burst from her wand. Stumbling back to avoid the curse, Sirius' back smacked into the stone arch and he nearly tumbled through it, but he regained his footing, pushing off before the wisps of white could steal him away.

Harry, in all his righteous fury, began attacking the dark witch with gusto. She was easily blocking his spells and turned on her heel, running for the stairs that led out of the room. Harry was right behind her, firing off "Stupefy"s and any other spell he could think of. Sirius and Dumbledore took off after them and Hermione couldn't breathe. She was quick to revive Ginny before leaving the disoriented girl to go search for her lover. If anything happened to her…

Hermione shuddered.