Hermione screamed. She couldn't think straight. Could hardly even see straight.
"Draco? Draco!"
His face winced in pain. Blood spilt onto his fingers.
Toma took one step forward and Hermione had had more than enough.
"Bombarda Maxima!"
The street exploded at Toma's feet, sending him skyward. With a cracking thud, Toma crashed onto the ground, and he rendered still at the impact. Hermione didn't care how bad she hurt him. Not after this.
She leaned over Draco and added pressure to the split open wound. Everything was a blur. She reached for her beaded bag, hoping for some useful potion, but nothing was around her wrist. Curse it, curse it, curse it. When had Hermione last seen it? Her last conscious memory of her trusted beaded bag had been at the sanctuary.
"Granger?"
Her breathing hitched at the mere utterance of her name.
"I'm here, Draco. I'm here." She paid little mind to the fights still waging a stone's throw away. "What curse did he strike you with? Did you hear it?"
Draco clamped his side tighter. "Are you okay?"
"What?"
"I asked if you're okay."
She half choked, half laughed her response. "You're the one who Apparated in front of a mysterious Dark hex, yet you're asking me if I'm okay?"
Draco tried to sit up, but Hermione urged him back down. She tore off the bottom of her shirt and wrapped it tight around Draco's torso.
"Damn. If I had known that all it would take to get you undressed was a measly little curse, I would have done this days ago."
Hermione gave her head a disapproving tilt. "No more jokes until you're healed."
"I'm fine."
"You're bleeding!"
"No shit." He looked at where the blood already seeped through the fresh fabric. "But what's one more scar?"
Draco attempted to sit up again, but Hermione once more guided him toward the ground. "You should stay laying—"
He moved her hand off his shoulder. "I'm not done with this fucker."
Face screwed tight, Draco pushed himself upward. He staggered with his first step and Hermione had to catch him from falling.
"I'm fine," he insisted, but Hermione never stayed more than a step behind him as Draco hobbled towards Toma.
Consciousness had slowly returned to Toma's body but came back in full force when he noticed Draco. Toma scrambled for his wand, a mere arm's length away, yet not fast enough. He cried out in pain when his fingers were cut short, crushed underneath the weight of Draco's boot.
Breaking bone cracked under the pressure. "Don't you dare get anywhere close to the dragons or her ever again," Draco seethed. He pressed down on the toe of his boot. "Do you understand?"
Toma grasped for words, acquiescing with a short nod.
"Good." Draco removed his foot. "Incarcerous."
Thick ropes wound around Toma's body. Toma sneered at Draco, a menacing hatred obvious in his withering stare, but there was nothing Toma could do now. His limbs were bound and Hermione's added Imperturbable Charm ensured there would be no freeing him.
"This isn't the last of the Seven Brothers!" Toma yelled once Draco snatched Toma's wand and started to retreat. "A Death Eater like you knows that people like us are always biding our time, waiting for the next opportunity to strike."
Draco froze: posture tight, body rigid. "Then I will continue to take you down however many times is necessary," he said, each word more threatening than the next. He turned slowly, equal hatred in his eyes. "And I'm no Death Eater. Not anymore."
Draco seized Hermione's hand, keeping the other firmly planted on his wound. Molten silver inflamed his gaze as he glared at the two remaining Brothers, and Hermione knew he would not stop until they were also defeated. If he was fighting, then she was fighting. They started this together, and they'd help end it together, too.
Vibrant green emitted from Charlie's wand and struck Ardelean square in the chest. Julia cast a Pus Squirting Hex that made a nasty, yellowish goo ooze from his exposed skin. Aurel fired a Confusion Hex that made Marcier stumble and fall. Markus aimed a Cracking Jinx at his armour. Hairline fractures surfaced across the metal. The protective nature of the dragon blood was fading.
"Reducto!" Hermione and Draco yelled at the same time, one at Ardelean, the other at Marcier. The Seven Brothers' armour blasted into tiny pieces and crumbled into dust, right as a series of loud cracks echoed through the night sky. Around them appeared half a dozen Aurors.
"Îngheţa!" one of the Aurors shouted.
Marcier and Ardelean tried to Disapparate, but they were too slow. The Aurors had already cast an Anti-Apparition Jinx.
"On three!" Charlie shouted. "One, two—"
A slew of spells hit the remaining Seven Brothers in a polychromatic onslaught. Charlie, Julia, Markus, Aurel, Draco, Hermione, all six Aurors. The twelve wands split their aim between Marcier and Ardelean. Curses, jinxes, and hexes. Their combined cry made the spells indistinguishable above the resulting din and subsequent smoke of such a cacophonous combination. When the smoke settled, Marcier and Ardelean laid unconscious, defeated at last.
The Aurors apprehended the beaten Brothers while Hermione allowed herself her first full breath in minutes. She didn't feel relief—not yet anyway. She knew from the war that relief wouldn't come for hours if not days. Until then, she'd settle for the satisfaction of seeing Marcier and Ardelean properly captured.
Only then did Hermione notice that almost every light was now on inside the overlooking flats. Heads peeked out from countless windows. Hermione cancelled the wards protecting them, yet her mind quickly reverted back to the Aurors.
"They actually came this time." She furrowed her brow at how swiftly the Aurors were handling the present situation despite their recent negligence. "Do you think one of the townspeople contacted the Aurors when they saw all the fighting?"
"Potentially," Draco said, failing to conceal his wince as he placed his hand back on his torso. "But knowing Charlie, I wouldn't be surprised if he sent the Auror office an emergency owl reporting what had happened to the Longhorn and then sent a Patronus as soon as he got my message. Maybe the Aurors finally started taking us seriously."
The realisation hit her. "Or they'd never been contacted to begin with."
Draco looked at Hermione, momentarily confused, until suddenly, it became the most obvious thing in the world.
"That's why Doru didn't want me coming with him to the Auror office after he stole Norberta's egg," Draco said, frown firmly plastered. Hermione wasn't sure if the frown was more directed at Doru or at himself for having not made the connection earlier. "The slick bastard had no intention of going there."
"He's been lying to all of us," Hermione said so Draco wouldn't blame himself. "While everyone expected him to be at the Ministry, Doru likely spent that time trading the egg to the Seven Brothers instead."
Draco shook his head in disbelief. "Merlin. He had it all planned out."
By now, the streets were crowded with onlookers. The Aurors had cast a Boundary Line so no one besides those involved could get through while they took witness statements from Charlie, Julia, Markus, and Aurel. Everyone was gossiping and pointing.
"Let us through!" a woman from the crowd shouted. She broke through to the front of the line and Hermione ran to the supervising Auror.
"She's with us," Hermione said, after a few moments of arguing, the Auror granted temporary access to Marjorie and Tavian.
Marjorie surrounded Hermione and Draco with encompassing hugs. "We saw you two fighting from our window. Oh, Draco. You're hurt."
"It's just a flesh wound," he told her, but Draco couldn't hide the residual pain hidden behind his eyes.
Tavian didn't offer any comfort. His attention was elsewhere.
"Anton?" Tavain scowled when two Aurors walked past with Toma struggling in their hold. "I thought you were dead."
Toma spat at his feet. "Dead to you and the rest of the world."
"We had a funeral!"
Toma's laugh was wicked. "Oh, and did you cry for me, brother?"
The Aurors tried to drag him away but Toma continued wrestling.
Tavian's scowl deepened, softened slightly by the faintest hint of hurt. Of disappointment. "I should have known. You faked your own death to become a true man of the shadows." His scar-lined face was inches from his brother's. "Was it all worth it? Losing everyone who loved you for a pile of tainted Galleons?"
Toma stopped resisting the Auror's hold. "I have nothing left to say to you."
Tavian followed the Aurors, and Marjorie ran after him. Hermione could only imagine what was going on in their heads right now. Even if Tavian and his brother hadn't been on speaking terms, it must be a terrible shock to learn that the brother you thought was dead had really been alive this entire time.
"C'mon," Draco said. He placed a calming hand on Hermione's shoulder. "We should retrieve the horn."
Despite his protests, Hermione looped an arm under his to keep Draco propped upright as they moved back to the store. Even so, they made it no more than five steps when Draco faltered in a new wave of agony. He clenched his side and Hermione struggled to prevent him from falling.
"I got you." Her voice wavered at the edges despite her attempts to stay steady enough for them both. "Let's get you down gently."
Draco buckled onto the ground. His hand didn't leave his torso.
Hermione rushed to her knees. "Move your hand so I can see the wound."
His face recoiled the second he removed his grip, exposing the blood-soaked fabric. What had once been light blue was now a violent shade of violet. With shaking hands, Hermione unwrapped the fabric. The makeshift gauze stuck at the bloody parts but still peeled away to reveal a gash that was six inches across and half an inch wide. The same as earlier. But where it had been a surface wound before, the gash was, somehow, getting deeper, continuing to eat away at Draco's muscles.
Her palms turned clammy; her throat constricted tight. "Healer! I need a Healer!" Hermione shouted at the crowd as Draco's face paled more than Hermione thought possible. Her cries turned desperate. "Please! Is someone a Healer?"
Rippling murmurs started down the crowd. Surely there was a Healer here somewhere. There had to be.
"That bad, huh?" Draco grimaced, but at least he was still talking.
Hands shaking, Hermione ghosted over the growing wound. "It's as if you Splinched but it's still eating away at the flesh." A new panic took over her, remembering the last time she'd been faced with so much blood. It was her fault then too. Ron. Spasming on the forest floor. Bleeding out. Fast. Her words were half sobs. "I keep a bottle of Essence of Dittany in my bag. But I don't know… I don't—"
"Breathe, Granger," Draco said, somehow trying to be the one to calm her in this situation.
"I don't know a counter-charm."
Draco winced through his words. "In my pocket. Toma's wand. Use— Use Priori Incantatem."
Hermione followed Draco's directions. Gold threads trailed out from Toma's wand, then a jet black streak with a coordinating whisper, "Sectum Altum."
The reveal of the spell brought Hermione modicum relief—she didn't know that spell—but Draco somehow found amusement in it.
"Oh good, just what I needed in life. Another Dark cutting spell," he said through an unconvincing chuckle. "Tell Potter. I think I have a new best mate for him."
If he wasn't injured, Hermione would have shoved him. "Draco."
He smiled through the obvious pain. "Seriously? Not even a single laugh?"
"Yes, seriously, because at least one of us needs to take this seriously!" She stared at the wound, still at a loss. Hermione cast a Skin Cleansing Charm: the very least she could do. Her whole body felt heavy, her voice weak. "You didn't need to take that spell for me."
"Yes, I did," he said, leaving no space for Hermione to argue otherwise. His expression turned resolute, pain no longer on the forefront as he cradled her face. "Consider it compensation for when I should have stepped in to save you all those years ago."
Hermione choked on a half-formed sob. "I never needed you to make it up to me."
He weakly smirked. "And yet I promised I'd find a way."
An Auror ran forward, joined by someone from the crowd. The witch immediately crouched down at Hermione's side.
"I'm a Healer. What happened?"
Hermione felt like her throat had been filled with sand, but emotions had to wait.
The Healer cast a series of Diagnostic Charms while Hermione forced out everything they knew. When the assessment was complete, the Healer tucked away her wand and addressed Draco squarely.
"Your body has taken in a great deal of Dark magic but thankfully it hasn't reached any vital organs yet. You're in serious condition, but if it continues to go untreated, it will become critical. I am going to cast a Stasis Charm on the wound to prevent further damage. Okay?"
Draco nodded and the Healer cast the spell. Ice blue sparks emitted from her wand tip and Draco's wound seemed to freeze over. Based on his anguished expression, though, it didn't seem to ease the pain.
"Stay here," the Healer directed. "I'm going to retrieve my Potion bag."
As if she and Draco were going anywhere.
Hermione conjured a long cushion beneath Draco and clasped her hands around his. He squeezed back.
"Granger."
Hermione allowed herself a single laugh, even if it was a hollow one. "I can't help but notice you're back to using Granger."
His soft grey eyes bore into her, an unspoken sentiment shining underneath. "Until you have a different last name, I have no intentions of changing that."
Something stirred inside Hermione, and she had no choice but to swallow and forget it with a single tender kiss. An aching groan cut her short, though, when Hermione realised she had accidentally pressed the heel of her palm into his torso.
"I'm sor—"
"Don't you dare apologise." Draco thumbed away the tears beginning to pebble at the corner of her eyes. "I don't think there's anything on this Earth you could do that deserves an apology after the hell I made your life."
A tear broke free. "Not anymore."
"No, not anymore. And not ever again." He gave her hands a final squeeze then dropped them. "But regardless of how much I want you to wait with me until that Healer comes back, you need to show Charlie what's in the alley."
His comment struck her like a Stunner, long after the battle had ended. In the resulting chaos, Hermione hadn't spared Doru a second thought. She still didn't want to leave, but with the Healer already tending to Draco, she could no longer justify waiting around—especially when there was one final loose end that needed to be tied.
She pressed a short kiss to his cheek, swore to come back as soon as she could, then stood to find Charlie.
"Hey, Hermione."
Her heart skipped two beats at those four syllables once again on Draco's tongue.
"We'll find a way to work it out. For us." Sincerity dripped off his every bone. A man desperate for his words to be nothing short of truth. "If we can defeat the Seven Brothers, we can do anything."
A ray of sunshine broke through her overcast thoughts. "Is that another promise?"
"You know it is."
His half-cracked smile was a sliver of its usual brilliance, as if the practicality of that promise already weighed on his psyche. For now, they'd pretend there was a way to resolve the fact that in three short days, Hermione's Portkey would drag her back to the dull disappointment of her desk job, over a thousand miles away from the sanctuary. From the dragons. From Draco.
At least they still had this weekend. They'd make the most of the days she had left. A relaxing getaway in the mountains, just as she had originally envisioned. That could only happen, though, once this investigation was solidly and completely behind them: a key precursor to that still in play.
"There you are," Charlie said when he found Hermione before she found him. "Markus, Aurel, Julia, and I gave Head Auror Bogdan our accounts of the past week, but he still needs to talk with you and Draco." He looked around Hermione expectantly, then wrinkled his brow. "Where's Draco?"
Hermione swallowed the lingering lump in her throat. "Towards the end of the battle, Toma struck him with a really bad curse and—"
"What."
"We found a Healer who—"
"Is he all right?"
"He's stable, but the wound is serious. She cast a Statis Charm to prevent—"
"Let me see him."
Charlie pushed past Hermione, his face drained of colour. Hermione was instantly reminded of the devastation Charlie had experienced with the loss of Fred at the Battle of Hogwarts. The unimaginable sorrow. The gripping distress. The war would forever continue to haunt everyone who had fought, not just Draco and Hermione. None of them wanted to lose anyone else with whom they were close.
They weren't going to lose Draco.
Hermione snagged Charlie's hand and pulled him back. "He's going to be okay," she said, trying to assure both Charlie and herself. She couldn't permit herself any possibility of other outcomes. Her eyes fell to the alley outside of the Auror's investigative perimeter. "But there's something you need to see first."
Slipping past the Aurors, Hermione navigated a resistant Charlie through the thinning crowd of gawking townspeople towards the night-covered alley. Doru still slumped lifelessly against the wall.
Urgency overtook Charlie when he recognised Doru rendered unconscious for the second time that night. He sprinted down the alley and propped up Doru's limp form. "Godric, what did they do to you?"
Red illuminated from Charlie's wand-tip, the start of a Reviving Spell, but not before Hermione cast a Binding Jinx around Doru's arms and ankles. Charlie turned to Hermione, confused. His confusion only heightened when the apologies began pouring past Doru's lips.
"Charlie, my boy, you must forgive me. I never wanted to hurt them. It was only meant to be temporary. You have to understand that."
Charlie appeared to understand nothing. "Hurt them? Hurt—" Dumbstruck incredulity sunk in. His whole body trembled as Charlie stared at Doru as if he were a stranger. "But it can't have been you. You wouldn't."
"I'm afraid you never know what you're capable of until the circumstances demand it," Doru said, voice laced with regret.
"Bullshit!" The single word echoed down the alley. "There's not a world in which I'd hurt one of those dragons. That's the promise we make when working at the sanctuary. We dedicate our lives to protecting them!"
A glint of disdain broke through Doru's expression. "And just what exactly has that gotten me in return, huh?" His words turned spiteful. "My entire life I've been working there. Fifty-five years! And what do I have to show for it? Weary bones and an empty Gringotts vault."
"We don't do it for the money," Charlie said, and Doru scoffed.
"You can't survive on a mere love of dragons," he said. "It's all well and good for you young folk who come to the sanctuary fresh out of school. Steady meals and a place to sleep? That's all I needed when I was your age. As long as I had a few extra Lintză to spend on Firewhisky during the occasional night out in Verdell, I was a happy lad."
Doru made a derisive snort. "Until everyone my age started to leave. By the time I was thirty-five, most of the keepers I had started with had left. Moved on to better paying jobs. To live closer to Bucharest. To start families. Before I knew it, it was just me and Tavian. With Marjorie having just taken over ownership of the Dennfyre, Tavian was committed to staying, and I never considered otherwise. I loved the dragons. I couldn't imagine my life anywhere else."
"Nor could I," Charlie bitterly interjected, "yet I don't see how someone who claims to love the dragons could ever lay a single cruel finger on them."
"I know. Believe me, I know." Doru hung his head and shook it. When he peered up again, his expression was replaced with a mournful, almost pitying face. "I've never doubted how much you love the dragons or this place. In some ways, you remind me of my younger self. It's why I chose you to replace me once I retired at the end of this year."
Surprise rippled through Hermione and Charlie both. Retirement? Not once had anyone mentioned the plan nor even the possibility of Doru retiring so soon. But of course they wouldn't have. Mentioning it would have required that they knew. It appeared Doru had been keeping more than one secret.
"So that was your plan?" Hermione asked, taking a small step forward. "Exploit the dragons as much as possible before announcing your departure due to your inability to catch the person behind the attacks?"
"I maintain that I never wanted to harm the dragons," Doru insisted. "So, no. No exploitation was intended."
"Intentions mean nothing when that's what you did," Charlie said.
Doru frowned, remorse once more seeping in. "It was only meant to be temporary," he repeated. "I've been wanting to retire for years. After Tavian left, I was ready to live out the rest of my days on the outskirts of Verdell, enjoying the mountains without the daily strain. But leaving the Sanctuary meant obtaining my own living quarters. Paying for my own food. Simple necessities I haven't had to worry about the past five decades but now have little money to provide of my own. And unlike Tavian, I don't have a spouse who operates an inn."
"Surely Tavian and Marjorie would have let you live there," Hermione said. "They're letting me stay just because I'm a friend of the Sanctuary."
"And what then? Forever take up one of their rooms?" Doru shook his head. "A week is one thing, maybe even a month or two, but I could not depend on years of gratitude. And the solution seemed so easy. I was already responsible for taking the remaining dragon's blood to the Apothecary after a dragon died. I knew what a pretty price it could get. There are so many dragons on the grounds. If I took a single vial here and there, no one would notice. I just needed to find the right buyer."
"Like Mundungus."
Charlie jerked to Hermione at the surely unexpected name but Doru didn't so much as flinch.
"Among others. Whoever was keen for a deal and agreed to my terms." His expression soured. "Until the Seven Brothers were released from Rockhold and the whole thing turned to shit."
Doru knocked his head against the brick building. "Those bastards made a deal with the Ministry providing the names of other black market dealers in exchange for a shortened sentence, and those governmental idiots really expected the Seven Brothers not to immediately take advantage of their minimised competition." Doru huffed. "Instead they reunited with Anton and came back stronger than ever."
"That's the one they called Toma, right?" Hermione asked. "Tavian's brother."
Even in the shadows, Doru's sudden paling was as bright as moonlight. "Yeah. Anton and Tavian Toma."
"But Tavian's brother is dead," Charlie said, and Doru shook his head once more.
"World would be a better place if he was. Instead, word got to Anton that someone in town was selling dragon's blood and he cornered me in an alley on my way to a drop-off. I'll never forget the look of pure joy on his face when he Vanished my cloak and recognised me at once. Like a sadistic child on his birthday, and I was his gift, wrapped perfectly for him with a well-cast Incarcerous ."
"What then?" Hermione asked.
"What do you think?" Doru said with a mocking laugh. "Anton knew he had his perfect puppet. For years he's been wanting a source inside the Sanctuary, and there I was, in his arms and at his mercy. I only made it out of that alley alive after he forced me to make an Unbreakable Vow to trade with the Seven Brothers—and only the Seven Brothers—from there on out. And if I dared reveal to anyone what I was doing or who I was working with, he'd make sure Tavian's scar became more than just a scar.
"For a couple weeks, nothing changed. I stole my few vials and delivered them to the Seven Brothers as promised. Until a few vials weren't enough. They demanded more. Withheld payments. Pressured me into taking more than was safe."
"Which was went we first caught you," Charlie said. "You took too much from Nevarth and made it so his diagnostic levels couldn't replenish themselves."
"I didn't think it would affect him so severely," Doru insisted. "He must have been sick on top of the low blood levels. But after that, I knew I had to be more careful. Try to prevent slipping up again. But Anton wouldn't relent. Kept demanding more. Threatening Tavian. Hurting me." He stared down at his bound hands, slightly shaking. "He had cursed me with the Cruciatus the night I accidentally hurt Urso. My hands were too unsteady for me to extract the blood without extracting the needle without damage."
A pang gripped Hermione's heart. She, unfortunately, was far too familiar with the effects of the Cruciatus curse. It was a pain she wished on no one. But even in his difficult situation, Doru wasn't blameless. Not by a mile.
"I wanted out," Doru said after steadying his hands in the space between his thighs. "Especially after my jittered nerves caused the accident with Viscer. I told Anton I couldn't continue at the rate he required without getting caught. And to my surprise, he offered me a deal. Five thousand Galleons for a dragon egg."
Any remorse she had for the wizard vanished with the reminder of what he had done to Norberta's seventh egg.
"Five thousand Galleons would have me set for life. I could retire at the end of this year as hoped, never having to worry about money again."
"Even if it meant compromising your promise to the dragons?" Charlie demanded, anger rising.
"I'm not proud of it," Doru said. "But what choice did I have?"
"You always had a choice!" Charlie cried. "Come to us for help before getting involved in the blood. Get Tavian to safety. When you were talking with the Aurors—" Newfound comprehension hung his jaw agape, reaching the same conclusion Hermione and Draco stumbled upon not long ago themselves. "You never went to the Aurors."
"No," came Doru's low answer. "Though for a moment, I wish that I had. I should have known the deal was too good. As soon as I handed Anton the egg, expecting to be done, a flash crossed my vision. When the bright white cleared, there was Marcier, camera in hand with documentation of my crimes.
"'Încă una,' they told me. 'One more.' If not, they would send that photo to the Aurors, pining all the crimes on me. But I knew then it would never be just one more. Not unless I made them Vow in return. So on Wednesday night, we made one last deal. The photos in exchange for a Romanian Longhorn horn."
"Which is why you used Polyjuice tonight," Hermione said. "You've been brewing it ever since the Seven Brothers started forcing you to work with them, in case you needed an escape. You didn't want to risk them photographing you again so you nabbed one of Julia's hairs off Charlie's jumper and disguised yourself as her instead."
Charlie's anger reached a new peak. "You did what?"
Doru scoffed. "You'd be a better senior dragon keeper without that witch dragging you down anyway."
A loud whack sounded through the alley and Doru collapsed onto the ground, once more rendered unconscious. Only this time, no magic was involved.
Charlie gripped his fist, red from the point of impact. "To think I used to respect you," he said through a snarl. Charlie peered down at Doru with nothing left but resentment. "Enjoy Rockhold."