She stumbled out of the Apparition, reaching out to grab the fence of the church she had taken them to.
"Hermione!" Harry exclaimed.
"They were there, Harry," she said, shaking. "The Death Eaters. I had to pull you out. Oh god."
Hermione bent her head down to try to get the blood to rush back to it; the sudden shock of seeing Death Eaters invade the happy wedding reception had made her dizzy.
"Are you ok? Where are we?" Harry looked around, swearing under his breath.
"We're in Finsbury, in London," she said, looking up as her vision started to clear. "It's – it's close to Sirius' place."
She reached around for her beaded bag, pulling her wand out from the side of her torso.
"We need to – hold on, I've got your stuff – Accio Harry's rucksack!" she cast into her bag, and the handle of Harry's rucksack came to the surface. She pulled it out and handed it to him.
"Your Cloak's in there, get it on," she said. "I need to – find some better shoes –"
"It's in your bag?" Harry said doubtfully, looking at the small beaded clutch.
"Yes. That's where I've packed all our stuff, using an Undetectable Extension Charm," she said, summoning some sneakers and sitting on the steps of the church to pull her heels off. "We can't have our stuff in actual space if – if this shit's gonna happen." Her breathing was finally slowing a bit; she turned to look at Harry's floating face, the rest of him covered by his Invisibility Cloak. "Have to have it on us so we can leave at a moment's notice."
"That's amazing magic, Hermione," Harry said. She smiled at him.
"Thanks," she said, finishing putting on easier walking shoes and shoving her fancy heels into her bag. "I'll get a coat or something, too, hold on…"
She pulled out a huge hoodie and put it on, covering her hair.
"That'll do for now. Ok, so," she continued, standing back up and heading towards the church gate to leave.
"Ron knows where to meet us, right? And – I think trying Grimmauld Place now might be a good idea, Harry," she said. "Alohomora."
The gate unlocked, and she felt Harry move past her to walk out onto the footpath. She stowed her wand in her hoodie pocket, and they started heading towards the high street.
"The Death Eaters will be flat out on the coup. If there's any time where there might be less of them on Grimmauld Place, it'll be tonight," she hypothesized. "Plus Ron knows that's where we were heading first. He can – he'll catch up with us there," she said, voice wavering as she considered the possibility of how many people might die in the aftermath of Bill and Fleur's wedding. What a horrible way for their wedding night to end.
She'd been talking for a while, she realised. "Harry?" she asked her invisible friend. "What do you think?"
He was silent for a moment longer. "I guess – it was the right thing, to leave the wedding?" Harry asked. "I guess they were looking for me."
"Yes," she agreed. "If you're not there, hopefully – there's a lot of purebloods present, with all the Weasleys, hopefully they'll just shake them down and leave."
They reached the high street; Hermione waved down a cab.
"I think we approach Grimmauld Place the muggle way," she said quietly to Harry. "If we Apparate direct, we can't see if there's a trap."
"Good idea," Harry agreed next to her, moving around to avoid some people walking along the footpath. A cab rolled up and Hermione opened the back door.
"Confundus," she cast immediately – she could see no other way to get into a cab with Harry while he was under the Cloak. She grabbed Harry and shoved his invisible form into the cab, following him and shutting the door. "Thornhill Square in Islington, please." She opened her bag and found a handful of muggle money to hand to the poor Confunded driver.
"That's a five minute walk to Sirius' place," she whispered.
"Ok," Harry whispered back. "I can't believe they killed Scrimgeour."
"I guess he didn't take kindly to an Imperius," she whispered back, looking out the cab window at the lights in the shops and pubs. "I was thinking, if I were Voldemort I would try to put the current Minister under, rather than instate a new one or declare myself Minister. It would make the coup harder to see."
"You're right," Harry said. "I can see how Scrimgeour would fight an Imperius."
It felt like a rather insensitive comment for Harry to make, given he knew Hermione had recently been the victim of an Imperius, but she let it go. A few minutes later, they were pulling up to the park in Thornhill.
"Ok, let's go," she said, opening the door and waiting for Harry to slide out before closing it. She held her wand in her hoodie pocket and they crossed the road, heading for Grimmauld Place.
"Thank god he finally handed over the stuff in Dumbledore's will," she said, after some pubgoers passed them by. "I know we haven't figured it out yet, but what if we never got the stuff Dumbledore intended to pass on? Or the Death Eaters got it and decoded it all?"
"I know," Harry said. "I was just thinking they probably have the written will…so they probably know about the Sword of Godric Gryffindor too."
"Oh, shit, you're right," Hermione agreed unhappily, as they turned onto a sideroad. "I wonder if Voldemort knows something about the Sword –"
Harry suddenly shoved her to the concrete; on the ground she saw a man's feet on the other side of the road, from under the car she was thrown down beside. Pointed wizard boots.
Hermione rolled over, watching a Stunning spell streak above her, and pulled her wand out of her pocket.
"Protego!" Harry yelled, protecting them as the car they hid behind exploded.
"Stupefy!" she screamed, aiming over the burning wreck of the vehicle, while Harry aimed a Disarming spell. "Stupefy!" The second Stun hit; Harry's Disarming spell had hit first time, panicking the Death Eater to leap further into view rather than hide.
She looked at where she knew Harry was, totally dismayed – and then another Stunning spell shot past her; Harry's body buckled as he passed out -
"Bombarda!" she screamed, turning towards the direction of the Stun. The explosion hit a car, which blew up in a spectacular fireball; car alarms went off and small debris hit her, coating Harry's Invisibility Cloak.
"Ennervate!" she cast quickly, pulling on the now visible outline of Harry's arm, wand aimed towards the wreckage in case there was movement. But she couldn't see anything. After a moment, she realised the silhouette of the wizard who attacked them had been blown against the wall of one of the townhouses, apparently knocked out cold.
Lights started turning on, one by one, across the townhouses.
"Shit! Shit," she whispered, mind blank in panic – any second now, muggles would look out of their homes. Certainly some were already on the phone to the police.
"Hermione!" Harry whispered, grabbing for her.
"Harry, we – hold on, I'll –"
A sudden plan emerged as to how to hide this absolute mess from the muggles. She opened her beaded bag, so glad she had preloaded the weapons she had stolen from the Birmingham detective. "Accio rifle!"
The firearm zoomed to the top of the bag.
"Cover me," she said, running across the road and realising, with a shock, she recognised the man who had attacked Harry – it was the man who nearly killed her in the Department of Mysteries.
"Harry – it's Dolohov!" she shouted.
"Hermione!" Harry yelled, his voice strained and angry; of course, shouting Harry's name when Death Eaters were roaming around was so stupid –
"Glacio finite," she cast after pulling the rifle out to remove the Freezing Charm, aiming it squarely at Dolohov's face and pulling the trigger. The shot still rung loud, even amongst the car alarms; she heard Harry yell something in shock that she didn't catch. The blood sprayed all over her dress, and Hermione had a moment of regret, wondering if any drycleaning would work or if the expensive outfit was a write-off. She aimed the second shot at Dolohov's heart, though his body was so limp and his face so destroyed from being shot with a rifle at close range that she doubted it was necessary.
She shoved the now-unloaded rifle back in her beaded bag, running towards the man who was knocked out against the wall; she could hear Harry doing so too.
"Is he alive?" Harry asked dubiously, looking at the man's bleeding injuries from the car explosion. She bent down and pointed her wand at his neck.
"Sectumsempra," Hermione cast, aiming closely; blood erupted from the man's severed throat.
"Not anymore," she said, grabbing for Harry's invisible arm where she had sensed his movement. "Come on, the police can't be far away -"
They ran towards Grimmauld Place, wands out – but no further Death Eaters seemed to approach. Harry tapped the front door with his wand; they listened to the multiple locks behind the door start to turn, Hermione scanning the courtyard behind them in case any other Death Eaters showed up. Then the door swung open, and they both hurried inside, slamming it shut behind them.
It was eerily familiar to be back in Sirius' old house. The magical gas lamps took flame, lighting up the dark hallway and the horrible stuffed elf heads on the walls. Harry pulled the Cloak off, his appearance half-way back to normal as the Polyjuice wore off. She could tell they were both holding their breath, waiting for the curses Mad-Eye had laid to trigger.
Harry took a careful step forward, into the hallway.
"Severus Snape?"
Hermione gasped; Mad-Eye's voice rang out, demanding.
"We're not Snape!" Harry said, voice cracking; Hermione realised the curse had blocked up her throat too, and it was not just an emotional response to hearing Mad-Eye from beyond the grave. A cold, magical breeze rolled over them, curling her tongue in her mouth before letting it go again.
Harry turned to look at her. "What was that?" he asked unhappily.
"T-tongue-Tying Curse," she said, stammering over her words. "I-I suppose if we were Snape, it would have truly held our tongue? And it would stop him telling the other Death Eaters the location…"
They both started to walk carefully forward when a figure rose from the dust in the carpet at the end of the hallway. Tall and bearded, raising a rotten hand, swooping towards them -
She screamed and recoiled, raising her wand, but what could harm a dead Dumbledore? Harry leapt bravely in front of her.
"No!" he yelled at the shade. "It wasn't us! We didn't kill you –"
The figure exploded back into the dust from whence it came, and then Sirius' mad old mother kicked off.
"Mudbloods! Filth, stains of dishonour, taint of shame on the house –"
"SHUT UP!" Harry screamed, aiming his wand at the curtains over her portrait to close them; he was the very picture of Sirius.
Her face was wet; Hermione realised she had fallen on the floor and had started crying. The terrifying shock of seeing Dumbledore's spectre move so quickly towards them had practically reduced her to the fetal position, unaware she had lost the ability to stand or that she was crying in fear. She tried to push herself back up to a standing position; her feet were so shaky it took a couple of attempts.
Harry did not look at her; he kept his wand out, stepping carefully further forward into the insane magic that Mad-Eye and Sirius' deranged family had put on the house. He reached the end of the hallway, finally turning back to face her. "I think that's it," he said, eying a dusty figure that, to her horror, was reforming in an armchair off the end of the hallway.
What was wrong with Mad-Eye to put such a heinous curse on the house? Maybe he thought only Death Eaters would show up. She could only hope it wasn't Dark magic…surely it wasn't, Moody hated Dark magic? Or maybe he just hated Death Eaters and the ends to which they used their magic. Hermione really hoped there wasn't a bit of Dumbledore's soul trapped in the curse Moody had set.
"W-wait," she said – now they were through Mad-Eye's work, they needed to check if anyone else was lying in wait for them. "Homenum revelio."
The spell swept up the house, but her wand did not reverb. "Ok," she said, trying to lower her shoulders from around her ears. "There's no one else here."
Harry pointed for them to head upstairs, away from Sirius' mad mother so they could talk freely. They walked into the first floor living room; Harry looked outside the windows onto the street below.
"There's emergency services everywhere," he said, turning back to look at her. Now that the danger had started to retreat and his appearance had fully returned, Hermione could see that he looked quite pale. "Why did you shoot him? Why'd you kill both of them?"
She had been trying to sneakily pull her bangle off to talk to Draco, but at Harry's words she let the bangle rest on her wrist. "Once the car – all the fighting – the muggles were on their way, Harry, they'd have killed dozens of people if they woke up with a police officer in their face," she said. But the words she said were new to herself, as well; in truth, the only reason she hadn't shot to kill Dolohov with her first spell was panic. And once they were incapacitated, she was never going to leave two Death Eaters alive who had just tried to kill them.
The look on Harry's face was not happy. "And when we left Surre-" he started, but he suddenly recoiled, crying out in pain, clawing at his head.
"Harry!" she shrieked, running towards him, pulling his hands away from his face.
"It's – it's nothing –" Harry said through gritted teeth. He looked angry; was he that mad at her, that she had killed two men who had tried to kill them, who had surely killed so many themselves for hateful reasons?
"Harry, please!" she exclaimed, pulling him towards a dusty sofa to sit him down. "What's – what's going on?"
"He's just – he's just angry," Harry said. "I – I think it's playing up, when he loses control, that's how it used to –"
"Oh god, Harry!" she whispered, heart beating like mad. "You have to try and close that connection! He can – he can hurt you with it –"
"Yeah, I know, thanks, Hermione," Harry said, clearly annoyed. She took a step back from him, body humming with anxiety that she was so unable to help him.
"H-here, I'll get you some water -" she said, running out of the room down to the kitchen, yanking off her bangle as she went.
Will you PLEASE fucking reply Granger, it's happened – are you somewhere safe?
I'm alive, she sent back briefly, slamming it back on her hand as she found a wine goblet and pointed her wand into it. "Aguamenti."
The charm barely worked; her concentration was dashed after the shock of seeing Dumbledore rise up and condemn her. She turned the tap on to fill the glass instead, and hurried back to the living room with it.
"I – let's keep watch, but – I don't know if any Death Eaters could get through those curses," she said, handing the water to Harry and crouching in front of him. He gave her a very surly look, taking one sip and then roughly placing the goblet on the floor.
"Hermione, please back off –"
"Sorry! Sorry," she apologised, retreating to the other side of the long room. Harry looked totally nauseated. She dug her right nails into her left hand to try and relieve some of the intolerable anxiety.
Suddenly, a silvery creature spun through the window, making her squeal again. Harry leapt up, wand in hand – but they were both too jumpy. It was a Patronus; it leapt onto the floor, where it solidified - into a weasel, Hermione realised, not an otter –
"Weasleys safe, do not reply, we are being watched," Mr Weasley's voice announced to them both, before disappearing into the ether.
They both breathed a sigh of relief; Harry collapsed back onto the couch, lying his head against its arm.
"Thank god," she said, rubbing her elbows shakily. Harry did not reply; his eyes were closed, and Hermione could see the tension in the wrinkles forming across his forehead.
Hermione truly didn't know what to do. Anything she tried was unhelpful or just annoyed Harry when he was already feeling terrible. After a minute, he wrenched his eyes open and shoved himself up.
"I'm – bathroom –" he said, walking quickly out of the room. She nodded, though she doubted he could even see her; his hand was out to feel the edge of the wall and the door frame. A thud in the hallway pushed her over the edge; she ran out to see Harry slumped over by the bathroom door, his eyes rolled up into the back of his head.
Hermione fell on the floor beside Harry, not daring to touch him because he hated it so, but also unable to stay away. Why couldn't she help him with this unbearable torture? It tore her apart just to see it; how much pain must it be to experience first-hand?
After a few long seconds, it seemed to subside. Harry shut his eyes, and reopened them; he looked at her reproachfully.
She let go of the finger she was biting while she watched him; pain bloomed and the indented marks of her teeth stayed as she pulled her hand away from her mouth.
"Please let me help," she begged him, her voice breaking. The annoyance in his face softened a bit.
"It's – Hermione, it's fine, there's nothing you can do," he said; she stood up and offered her hand to help him stand again. His gaze looked beyond her, to the window in the hallway that looked out into the street. "He's found those guys you killed."
You killed, she noted. "That was quick," she whispered. Harry nodded, his eyes glassy.
"Why did you shoot him?" he asked. "He's got Malfoy torturing Dolohov's wife for the shame of falling to a muggle weapon."
She felt her worried expression slide off her face, leaving a blank mask in its place. "It was…in case the muggles found them first," she said after finding her voice.
But Harry looked skeptical. "Not to send a message?" he asked, but he stood up, not waiting for her reply.
"Think you must be right that they can't get in Grimmauld Place, if they just came through to clean up." He turned to really go to the bathroom, this time. "We should get some sleep. I don't think Ron's joining us tonight."
The door shut behind him, leaving Hermione alone in the hallway of Black pureblood madness, with mounted embalmed elf heads and her cold bangle.
She checked her bangle every thirty seconds, in between finding sheets, magically dusting down two of the bedrooms on the first floor, and liberating a bottle of muggle whiskey from Sirius' old bedroom. But the bangle did not glow, or warm, or change in any way before Harry exited the bathroom, showered and looking much better now that Voldemort had retreated from his head.
"I've made up the two beds in the bedrooms on the first floor," she told him. "And found some of Sirius' whiskey."
A shadow of a smile crossed Harry's face. "Sirius would probably be in favour of nightcaps, wouldn't he," he said. Hermione nodded, and they went into the first of the bedrooms and sat on the newly made bed. Hermione conjured two short glasses and poured shots into both of them.
"Did you eat at the reception?" she asked Harry. He took a glass from her, shaking his head.
"No. But I'm not hungry," he said.
"Me neither," she confessed, sighing. "I've got, like, dehydrated military rations packed. Will taste terrible, but we won't starve in here," she said, looking up at the high ceilings of Grimmauld Place.
"How much stuff did you pack?" he asked, frowning. Hermione reached around for the beaded bag and start summoning items out of it.
"Well, a bunch of yours and Ron's clothes…here's your stuff…" An Accio brought a bunch of Harry's clean laundry to the surface, he watched incredulous as she dumped it all on his bed. "The horcrux and curse breaking books…some library books from Birmingham…camping stuff, we have Ron's Dad's magical tent." She looked at Harry. "And then my stuff, some muggle money. And some guns."
"Why guns?" he pushed. Hermione sighed.
"Honestly?" she asked; Harry nodded. "Voldemort's already kidnapping wandmakers. Having a backup weapon was appealing."
Harry stared at his pile of clothes, and started rummaging through it – she assumed to find something comfy to sleep in. "Voldemort was yelling about a 'muggle stick'," Harry said. "Very angry, that such a thing had killed a Death Eater. I guess he thinks his followers should be above a bullet to the head."
She put her whiskey to the side, leaning back on her hands. "Dolohov was the one who hurt me in the Department of Mysteries," she said.
Harry stopped for a moment. "I see," he said, polite and cold.
Hermione stared at the ceiling. "You think it was wrong of me to kill them," she said. It wasn't a question.
"Lupin doesn't," Harry said, too casually, unfastening his dress robes to pull on a T-shirt. "He thinks I'm an idiot for not shooting to kill."
She snorted, continuing to stare at a corner of the ceiling while Harry changed. "I haven't seen anyone duel as good as you," Hermione said. "Kingsley said my duelling was disgusting, actually," she remembered.
"What?" Harry said; she felt a small twinge of affection at the offence in his voice.
"When I exploded that Death Eater over Surrey," Hermione explained. "Something like, they weren't expecting it."
Harry held his glass as he climbed under the sheets. "But Lupin said it probably saved lives," he said.
She sipped her whiskey again. "Yeah," she said flatly. "I think I would have died if I hadn't done it."
They were silent, for a moment.
"Why was Dolohov in Azkaban?" he asked. Hermione screwed up her face, trying to remember.
"Some murders?" she guessed lamely. "But I can't remember who."
Harry drained his glass and Vanished it. "We should try to sleep," he said. Hermione nodded; she shoved his clothes off the bed for him.
"I'll be next door. Just – just shout if –"
"I'll be fine, Hermione," he said, a bite of impatience in his tone. "Go to bed."
She nodded; knowing she would not be able to sleep until Draco replied. "Night, Harry," she whispered, turning the light out and shutting the door behind her.
She put the bangle on the sink as she washed the sweat and blood off her, watching it relentlessly and hoping Draco had escaped from Voldemort for the evening, but it did not glow. Hermione was three whiskeys deep, sitting cross legged on her bed and watching it and her glass listlessly, before it lit up. She lunged forward to snatch it up, as greedily as she had when Ginny offered it back to her.
Should have known no Death Eater could stop you.
Did he know it was her who had killed Dolohov and his associate, then? I heard what he's making you do, she wrote back guiltily. Are you ok? I'm so sorry Draco.
Hermione put the whiskey bottle to the side, drinking fully abandoned. Draco replied quickly.
I'm so curious about who the other spy is. Don't tell me, though.
Maybe it would feel less scary, amongst those fucking insane blood supremacists, to think he wasn't alone. It was by far the biggest lie by omission she had ever told him.
They know where you are, he continued. If you ever leave the old Order headquarters, you'll have to be very careful.
That reminded her of something that had been bugging her since Dolohov first shot at them.
Were Dolohov and that other guy waiting near there for us? Hermione asked Draco. She and Harry ran into the Death Eaters before they even reached the street on which Sirius' old house was located, and they had no way to know her and Harry were approaching from a distance. It would have made more sense if they were waiting closer to Number Twelve. The whole thing made her very uneasy.
A very unpleasant truth glittered back at her.
Rowle was. Dolohov found you through a Taboo the Dark Lord has put on his name.
It's like the Trace. It can't break a place with a Secret Keeper, but if you leave don't say it – they'll find you immediately.
Hermione sucked in through her teeth, whistling. Christ – a more powerful Trace as his first act with government power. Voldemort had not wasted time. How on earth was she going to tell Harry and Ron about this vital new parameter they now had to act within? At least it seemed they were safe for now, under Grimmauld Place's weak but holding Fidelius Charm.
Thank you for telling me, she sent, realising afterwards it was stupid to say. He was magically bound to tell her. It wasn't a favour or anything. Draco didn't want to be there, he probably hated her for condemning him to Voldemort's side…
It's why I'm here, Draco sent back. I'm glad I can protect you.
It was too much. The cursed Dumbledore shade that lay in wait just one floor below her. The Death Eaters she had killed on the streets of muggle London just outside the wards of Sirius' old house. The whiskey, and Harry's eyes rolled back into his head, and Draco's graceful suffering.
Can I tell you a secret? Hermione asked, continuing without waiting for a reply. When another man touches me, my body physically rejects it, she confessed, whiskey and trauma making her honest. I can't tell where the Vow stops and where my need for you begins.
Maybe he would like to hear such things? She was rubbish at feelings; almost as bad as Ron. But Draco had never seemed to mind that she was a total fuck-up. Where Ron shouted at her endlessly, and Harry pushed her away and judged, there was Draco. Always leaning into her awfulness.
I can't tell either, he replied. I miss you so much my chest literally hurts.
Hermione wiped her eyes, tears and tiredness blurring them. She had felt the same way, lying on the soju-coated desk in the Charms classroom. I think we must be fated to see each other again too, she sent back. A hole in both their chests, where a heart had been, in exchange for a shining Protean Charm in their hands. It felt impossible - they could not go on like this. I can feel it. I don't think the pull between us can be stopped.
She lay down under the covers, staring at her bangle and holding her wand and clenched fist to her chest as Draco replied.
The Dark Lord doesn't believe in love, but I feel the Vow get stronger all the time. I feel it pull me through each Crucio.
I think the way we tied our fates together is a new type of magic. Exponential.
Tell me you love me, Hermione.
Tears fell down the side of her face as she read his words, onto the sheets. I love you so much it's tearing me apart, she sent back, before falling asleep, a new world of state-assured hatred waiting on the other side.
Early update because I'm getting married this weekend! I've been waiting since almost the very start of this fic to shoot Dolohov in the face. It's great to have finally published to this point!
I finally made a DHr twitter if you want to shoot the breeze about Dramione and Harry Potter with me there :) Will link it on profile!