A/N: So I like…fail. At writing. I'm sorry for such a long wait, and would like to thank all of you faithful…waiters/reader peoples. Much love to you all.

Personally, I think this chapter is kinda crappy. I have sort of lost the thread of this story. There should be about 3 more chapters in it before it's finished, maybe a bit more. I promise I'll try and make those last few chapters better.

PS TO ALL: No, I have not forgotten aboutDumbledore's letter. It just hasn't come into play in the story yet. Be patient!

Chapter 27: Catastrophe

"How much longer do you think it will take?" Hermione whispered frantically into the mirror.

"I don't know, but they're having a pretty hard time seeming to disband while actually all meeting up at the same place. And they're hard-pressed to find places here where they can lie low during the day. Hogwarts may be big, but it was not made to secretly accommodate what is, essentially, an army," Harry snapped back.

Hermione raised her eyebrows at his tone, and he had the grace to look abashed. But then she sighed, "Forget it, I think we're all feeling the strain. I don't know how much longer I can stall here. They all want to go out and raid. I know that the point is to lull them into a sense of security, but the amount of pillaging they want to do is ridiculous, and I simply cannot allow it. On the other hand, I don't know how long I can hold them back."

"I understand. Hermione, we can't find Lupin. He disappeared with the werewolves. I think Fawkes, if he was here, could find him but we don't know where he is either. Hagrid has a few giants hiding out in the forest here, and Tonks keeps dropping in to give me the new digits. We have no more than a quarter of them here," he said. Hermione wished they could speak more frankly with one another, but there was really no way to be sure the conversation wasn't tapped. However, pretty much anyone watching out for this kind of conversation would know that Harry was talking about the Order and Hermione was speaking of betraying the Dark Lord.

"Well, keep me updated. I'll try to keep the death toll down, but I'm not sure how much I can do before my stalling becomes obvious. See you next week," she said. Harry nodded, and the mirror's surface rippled into a regular mirror,distorting Harry's features intoher own.

"How goes it?" Draco murmured, giving one final look around them before plopping onto the grass beside her. He had been standing guard, ready to give warning at the first sign that anyone was around.

Hermione sighed and rubbed her hands over her face. "Not so good on either end. Barely anyone is there, and I'm not sure how much longer I can keep this up. I think I may have to just allow them to go on all the raids they want, unless we want people to look upon us with suspicion."

"Which we don't," Draco finished for her. His thoughts were comforting against hers, and she leaned her head on his shoulder.

"I just don't know what we should be doing right now. Dumbledore's not here to guide us and…ugggh," she said, ending in a groan.

Draco smirked, "Didn't you say something like that to Potter and Weasley when they came asking to be friends again?"

"Yes, there's no need to point out that I'm being hypocritical," she snapped back.

His smirk widened momentarily, but he fell silent. "I'm sorry," he murmured, just as she sighed, "We shouldn't lash out at each other like this." Draco nodded his agreement.

A sudden, heady rush of pain hit the two of them. They sat dazed for a minute, and then jumped up at the still-unfamiliar summons. Even after almost a month of working with Voldemort and twice-weekly (or sometimes more often) meetings, they were still unused to the sudden burnings of their dark marks.

The sudden burn slowed to a fiery ache shared between the two of them as they walked towards Malfoy Manor. The walk stretched as never before as they battled to remain calm and go to their destination. I wish we could apparate, one of them thought, and the couple both nodded in agreement.

Once they were inside Malfoy Manor, the pain in their marks had subsided for the most part. They wove through the house until they reached the parlor. Draco shoved aside a desk and clicked open a catch. The small tunnel opened, and the two of them crawled into it. "It's so annoying that there isn't a door just leading to this place," Hermione grumbled.

"I know. But it was supposed to be this way so the Ministry couldn't find it. You can apparate there, if you can apparate at all, and if you know where it is. I hear you have to put blood on the wall of the room so that it will allow you to get in there, but that may just be a rumor," Draco replied.

The end of the tunnel dipped, and they were finally able to stand. Hermione and Draco paused to brush the dust off themselves before continuing. Draco pulled out a small dagger in the darkness and unsheathed it. Before he made the cut, he turned to Hermione, "Is this for the Inner Circle, or all Death Eaters?" he asked,thinking aboutthe invisibility cloak in his pocket.

"I think it's for all of us," Hermione said uncertainly. She felt him nod, and then the brief pain across his palm as he cut it.

"By the blood of the Malfoy line, I demand that this door open," he said imperiously, pressing the bloody hand against the wall. It rotated slowly inward, giving the couple time to have their eyes adjust.

The room was crowded, but the Death Eaters parted before Hermione. She took Draco's hand so they wouldn't become separated and they walked toward the far edge. "Sorry we're late, father," she told Voldemort, dipping her head in greeting. Belatedly, Draco nodded his head as well, and went to the outskirts of the crowd while Hermione went to stand next to the Dark Lord.

"Now that we're all here," Voldemort addressed the room, "We must plan our next attack. Crawdy!" he barked.

"My lord," a hooded figure said, stepping out from the crowd. Hermione fidgeted—neither she nor Draco were wearing their Death Eater robes.

"How are we doing?"

"Sir, we have most of the giants under our control. They seem most…willing to aid us, in return for more lands. As we have promised the dementors their fun with any muggles and wizards who do not wear your mark, they are eager to do your bidding as well. The centaurs we have not been able to convince or even find, but we have managed to capture a few more dragons for your disposal." Hermione may have imagined it, but she thought Crawdy's eyes flickered in her direction at the last. She held her head high and sneered a little bit.

"Very good," Voldemort told him as he stepped back into line. "Malfoy, what's our wizard support?"

"About half, my lord," Lucius's voice said.

Voldemort frowned and scanned the crowd. "We need more," he murmured unhappily.

Some Death Eaters shifted uncomfortably, but maintained their silence. Hermione took a breath, two, then, "How…how many will oppose us if we attack?"

Lucius straightened, looking off into the top corner of the room. His face was completely bland as he calculated. "Maybe a third of the whole population. Probably less. While not all are openly supportive, some prefer to remain neutral, to choose the winning side after. Our side," he asserted.

Hermione glanced sideways at Voldemort. He looked content, even a bit proud. She felt a pang for her own father and looked away uneasily. She hadn't thought of him in a long time.The Dark Lordnodded quietly to himself, "Okay. We'll start the planning."

Hours later, the meeting was ended. So far, they had decided on several locations, but no official plan of action. Voldemort did not want to be spread very thin, and the numbers were hard to figure out. How many Death Eaters could take Hogsmeade? It all depended on undefined variables, who was there at the time, who was a permanent resident, how powerful everyone there was, in what state of mind (it was well known that a drunk or sleeping wizard was no match for a fully alert one)...

Too much was unpredictable. In the end, it was decided that they would be taking Diagon Alley, Hogsmeade and a few other major wizarding towns. It would be hard, and Death Eaters would be spread thin, but they had people working to figure out how to tilt the odds in their favor. For example, if a Death Eater could produce a strong patronus, it may serve to confuse or distract other wizards enough to take one or two down without much trouble. It all just had to be factored in.

That night Hermione and Draco stretched out on his bed. "I never knew planning a war would be this hard," she sighed.

"You were brilliant," he said quietly. She didn't miss the note of sadness in his voice.

"It was either push things forward and earn favor or do nothing and earn nothing. He may have asked it himself in a minute. I just managed to get there first," she pointed out. But it will only cause pain, they thought.

"They would have attacked anyway, sooner or later. Don't bother yourself about it, love," Draco reassured her. They rolled over onto their sides to face each other, and he held out his hand. She took it, and they hardly moved for the next few hours, though they remained awake, lost in their own thoughts.


Tonks nervously patrolled the corridors of the castle. It was a dreary place now that Dumbledore was gone. The students who had stayed weren't as carefree as they had been on all of her previous visits, and even the ghosts were looking depressed. She wished this whole affair could be done with so that no one would have the stress of the imminent war. Poorkids, she thought, they feel it too, and they still have to study.

Shaking her head in wonderment, she was caught off guard when someone grabbed her sleeve. Her wand was out in a flash and she had almost fired off a spell when a familiar voice said, "Please, Tonks, calm down. It's just me."

"Remus," she breathed. She whirled angrily. "Don't scare me like that." Her breathing was still rushed, but she tried to look dignified.

"Harry has new news. I thought you would like to know," he said quietly. His lips were pressed down in the corners as he held in his laughter, but other than that his face was perfectly somber.

"Okay, I'm coming," Tonks said, trailing after him. They traveled in silence through several corridors, ducking into an alcove when a pair of students snuck by. The fact that they had to hide from the students normally amused Tonks, but having Remus so close to her was doing funny things to her heartbeat and she couldn't find the humor.

The room was dimly lit and crowded with members of the Order. They were all squeezed together onto the classroom benches, and Harry was up at the front, sitting on top of the teacher's desk. The boy's legs swung nervously, but his face was utterly bland.

"That's most of us," Remus said to Harry and he led Tonks to a table somewhere near the front. Harry gave a short nod as they squeezed into a space that should have only fit one person.

"Okay then," Harry began. "My…er…source has just informed me that Voldemort is planning to attack Hogsmeade, Diagon Alley, Carrow, Greshel, and Talford, all major wizarding communities. We have to do what we can to see them safe and sound without anything looking odd. As we have done before, I think it would be all right to evacuate the children and new mothers to a safer place. Are there any other ideas?"

Tonks swallowed a sigh of relief as Remus stood up (having him so close to her was making her strangely uncomfortable) and transfigured a large chalkboard behind Harry. On it he wrote a table with all five towns on it. "Thank you, Harry," he acknowledged, and Harry hopped down from the desk to take the narrow space beside Tonks.

The next two hours were spent trying to figure out where to house the children, and just how many wizards needed to be informed of the imminent attack. Already some of the Order was working on duplicating mirrors like Harry's, but with a special function so that they were keyed into only a few people. Those who knew could carry false wands that functioned like real ones so that they could hide theirs away for use later. The more Death Eater slaves that were armed and ready to break out, the better.

As the flow of suggestions waned, Harry leaned more and more heavily on Tonks's shoulder. She waited until he was half-asleep before suggesting that he find his bed. Wearily, he nodded and clapped her heavily on the shoulder. Hardly anyone noticed him leave, so lost were they all in their own misgivings and ideas.


Voldemort was noticing things. They were little things, to be sure, but they were certainly odd. The attacks on the major wizarding communities had been very successful, on the whole. However, looking at the more minute details, the whole thing was a little bit off. For example, no children had been captured. Voldemort was completely apathetic about capturing children or not capturing children. But it was such an odd coincidence that out of five major wizarding towns, there was not a single child in the raids. It made sense that at this time of year, children eleven years old and up would be in school, but for the younger children to not be home all at the same time was strange.

There were other things too. A completely unexpected attack in the middle of the night would have yielded most of the people asleep. However, more people seemed to be awake, bustling around their houses, reading, cleaning. It was almost as if…as if they were waiting for the Death Eaters to come. But that wasn't possible, was it? That would mean someone had told them that Voldemort was coming, which was something he wouldn't allow. Who would dare defy him, the greatest wizard of the time!

And beyond that, there wasn't the usual air of desperation. Normally, the wizards would fight for their lives, their family's lives, or turn tail and hide. Thereused to be some who had turned on their own families, preferring to have them dead by the hands of a loved one than those of a Death Eater. Not this time. Sure, the fighting had been fierce, but the usual desperation was completely absent.

Voldemort needed to think on this. The Death Eaters had been given their assignments days before the actual attack but hadn't known even a vague time. And only his Inner Circle had received prior notice of the tentative (and in the end, resulting) date of the raid. For the people to be prepared thus…it was clearly someone in his Inner Circle who was leaking the information.

With a long sigh, he pulled a bottle of brandy from the desk drawer. Who could be doing this to him? He was so close to becoming the ruler of the wizarding world that he could almost taste it! But it wouldn't work this way. Voldemort needed to know who was a spy. And after that information was secured, he wanted to know what they were planning.

If the people knew and were ready, why hadn't they been told to run and hide?


"And this time, we won't take prisoners as slaves," Voldemort announced. From beneath his hood, his eyes glowed a bit brighter and he scanned the room cautiously. The other Death Eaters grinned evilly and nodded, looking to each other with a sort of blood lust in their eyes. Hermione and Draco exchanged glances, but there was an identical smirk shared between them that held nothing but malice.

Voldemort scowled beneath his hood. This may be harder than he had thought. Well, he would work out a better idea and find whoever the culprit was. This could not be allowed to continue. He swallowed a frustrated growl and dismissed the meeting.

That night, in his office he pulled out a fresh piece of parchment and a quill and thought as hard as he could. He wrote out a list of his Inner Circle first:

Crabbe

Dolohov

Goyle

Granger

B. Lestrange

Rabastan Lestrange

Rodolphus Lestrange

D. Malfoy

L. Malfoy

N. Malfoy

Pettigrew

Staring at the list until his vision unfocused, he finally began to cross off names. Granger was the first to go, and then Bellatrix (he had trained her as well, there was no way she would turn against him). Lucius was next, he had no motive to be helping anyone out, already owning a large fortune and in no danger of being caught (again) by the Ministry. He hesitated, then crossed out Pettigrew as well. That one didn't have the guts to turn against him. Almost a pity, he would be interesting to torture…

Voldemort shook his head of this thought and went back to the list. Narcissa, then Rodolphus came off next. Goyle was the last name he crossed off (that man had no brains and only followed Lucius and Crabbe).

Biting his lip, he looked back on his short list. Crabbe. Dolohov. Rabastan Lestrange. Draco Malfoy. He knew, in the very depths of his soul (if he had one—he was a little unclear on that), that it was one of those four that had betrayed him.


"What are you going to do while I'm gone?" Hermione asked, pulling her hair back from her face as she leaned over a book.

"Uh…I don't know. Maybe get Potter on the mirror and tell him what's going on. He should know about this as soon as possible. How long will you be gone?" he asked her.

Hermione frowned a little bit and abandoned her book to tie her shoes. "Hm…maybe around one or so," she said. "I'll be taking the Knight Bus and be back as soon as possible. I just really need a few new spellbooks, I'm going crazy here without any new spells to learn," she said. Her smile turned apologetic as she realized what she'd said, but he waved her on.

"Okay. My mum's already changed the security so it should let you in. If you have any trouble, just…I don't know, find some way to get me."

Hermione grinned and nodded, putting on a cloak to keep out the night chill. "Will do. And please do call Harry. And be civil. And tell him I'm fine, don't scare him or anything. Give him all the details you know." As Draco nodded to each of her conditions, she eventually smiled and said, "Thanks, Draco. I'll see you tonight. Or…tomorrow morning. Whatever you want to call it."

With a final, weary smile that made him think of times when things weren't completely screwed up, she was gone. He sighed and flopped back onto the bed. For some reason, he felt guilty for getting her mixed up in this whole mess. Since when did you have anything to do with it? She asked silently, humorlessly. This was going on before you came into the picture. If anyone should be guilty, it's me, she told him.

Draco paused, realizing she was right. I love you, he thought quietly to her. And I'm still sorry that we couldn't have just had a wonderful time being around each other and had to both get mixed up in this.

He stretched on the bed, slowly growing worried as she didn't reply back. About five minutes since he'd thought that to her, he finally felt a warm outpouring of love, occupied by the message, I love you too.

Frowning at the pause, Draco checked the time. They usually called Potter at about 9:30, so he still had a while to wait. He pulled his book off the nightstand and began reading to pass the time. Unexpectedly, he was asleep within twenty minutes.

Draco? Hermione's tentative thought brushed against his. Is something wrong?

Not at all, he thought back fuzzily as he snuggled deeper into his pillow.

DRACO! Her thought was a harsh scream in his mind, and he sat upright quickly. With Hermione's precognitive warning still ringing in his head, a bright light assaulted his eyes. Blinking at the onslaught, he was still groping for his wand when everything went dark.


A soft moan issued in the dark. Draco rolled over, feeling groggy, and heard someone whisper, "Who's there?"

"Who are you?" a voice answered.

"Where are we?" a third voice asked in the dark.

Draco remained silent. Someone laughed bitterly and said, "Your guess is as good as mine. I think…you know, I think we're somewhere dark."

"As if we hadn't figured that out," the second voice responded just as sarcastically.

"Why are we here?" Draco said quietly.

"Who's there?" one of the voices said nervously. Draco was reminded of someone, but couldn't place the voice.

"No one else gave a name, why should I?" he growled.

Everyone was silent for a minute.

The voice that had spoken nervously earlier then said, "Is anyone else tied up?"

Draco frowned. That voice…where did he know it from? "Yes," one of the other voices answered. "Yeah," the last chimed agreement.

"Crabbe?" Draco asked shakily. "Is that you?"

There was a long pause. "Yeah, it's me." The tone was guarded, suspicious. "How did you know that?"

Draco shrugged in the darkness, knowing the man could not see. "Who are the other two of you?" he asked.

"You tell us who you are first," one of the voices said.

Thinking about this, Draco could see no reason not to. They were all in the dark, and likely for the same reason. Everyone had agreed to being tied up earlier, so it wasn't like they could hurt him…he hoped. "Malfoy," he said.

"Lucious? I thought I'd have recognized your voice, at least!" Crabbe exclaimed.

"It's Draco, you fucking moron," one of the other voices snarled. "I'm Rabastan."

"Lestrange?" Draco asked incredulously.

"The one and only," Rabastan replied. "Not to be confused with my brother Rodolphus, who is married to your aunt."

The silence grew expectant, and then the last voice answered, "Dolohov. Does anyone have their wand?"

"If I had my wand, do you think I'd still be tied up?" Rabastan growled sarcastically.

"Maybe if you're as stupid as you sound," Dolohov mocked.

"No less stupid than you. I noticed you don't have your wand either," Rabastan shot back.

"Says who?" Dolohov growled childishly.

"Says the fact that you were the one who asked if anyone had their wands," Rabastan snarled back.

"Hey! Stop fighting," Crabbe barked. "It's not going to help us get anywhere. Dolohov, is that you beside me?"

"Yes," came the sullen reply.

"Okay then," Crabbe continued. "I'm going to try to untie your hands. Draco and Rabastan, you two should try to do the same. Maybe once we're untied we can find a light and figure out where we are."

"Fine," Rabastan said. Draco could hear him moving in the dark. "Where are you, boy?"

"I'm here," Draco replied. "Does anyone have any idea why we're here? I don't recall ever doing anything with the three of you specifically."

"Do you think Voldemort will try and find us?" Dolohov asked plaintively.

No one answered. Rabastan knocked into his shoulder, setting him off balance for a moment. Draco moved until he was back to back with his uncle's brother and then began working on the ropes that held his hands together.

About a half-hour later, there wasthe soft creak of a door. A light flickered into existence, to reveal nothing but a cloaked-and-hooded figure. "Well, well, well, what have we here? Some prisoners trying to escape? That won't do," a soft, androgynous voice murmured.

The person moved their wand, and Draco was fetched up into a corner. He closed his eyes in pain and heard Crabbe, Dolohov, and Rabastan hit other walls with solid thuds. "Now, one of you is a traitor to the Death Eater name," the voice said smoothly. "I am here to find out which."

Draco was careful to look utterly confused and innocent. Draco, what's going on? Are you okay? Hermione asked him frantically.

Hermione. He'd forgotten about Hermione.

"Torture is my usual method for things like this," the person continued. Draco was beginning to think this was a woman, for her pacing was unusually graceful. And her voice was too smooth and calm to be a male's. In her tones was a soft lust for the hunt of finding out who was the culprit, a lust so frightening in its patience that Draco shivered.

Just as it had happened before, bright lights came on to drown out every last bit of the darkness. Draco blinked, and before he could catch his bearings, felt himself whisked away. Dark swallowed him up just as quickly as the light had before, and he was left feeling battered and confused.

"Now that you're all in separate rooms, I can get to work," the woman said. "I'll be back to torture you a little later, boys. I left my tools elsewhere. Don't run away, now," she warned. Her laughwas painfulin Draco's ears.

He thought back to Louis Frunge, who Hermione, even with very little torturing experience, had managed to torture rather thoroughly. If that was this woman's job, he was certain he could expect no mercy cut across his throat after, as Hermione had done.

Hermione. I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry. With that, he closed his eyes (he couldn't see in such utter darkness anyway) and went to the place where her mind met his. He wasn't sure if it was possible to break a Compassion Binding. There wasn't time to find out. He had to do it, and it looked like now would be his only chance.

I can't put you through this, love. I'll try to give you as much time as I can. It was a terrible thing, to feel their bond almost tangiblybetween his hands and finally appreciate it fully, and know that he had to rip it apart. Piece by piece, he tore his mind apart from hers. Leaning back against the wall, he panted from the effort just that had taken him.

Mustering up the last of his strength for the final end to it, he felt a flood of alarm from Hermione as she seemed to grasp what was happening. A door opened and light stumbled into the room, making a silhouette of the woman from earlier. "Are you ready to be tortured?" she asked sweetly. Just the sight of her made him feel weak. Now or never.

With all the strength he had, he violently shoved Hermione's consciousness out of his.


Hermione leaned against the wall as her knees slowly collapsed beneath her. Something was wrong, had been wrong. She had warned Draco earlier, and then there was a light, a very bright light. No, therehad beentwo of those. Her thoughts were very mixed up. "Draco," she whispered. Her mind felt small and confining. What had happened? Why…Draco? Where was Draco? She couldn't feel him. "No," she moaned. "No."

She looked in wonder at her hands as lightning streaked across the sky. "It's gone." The Compassion Binding. It was gone. Just like that.

"Are you ready to be tortured?" the words echoed back like something out of a bad dream. Hermione shivered and the world spun in a slow loop around her. Suddenly, she knew just what she had to do.

"I love you, Draco. I'll never forget you." Determinedly, she stuck out her wand hand. With a bang, the Knight Bus stopped in front of her, just as violently violet as always. "I need to go to Hogwarts," she told Stan Shunpike. "It's very urgent."

"Things often are, these days," the young man nodded as she stepped aboard.


Spinning around and around
Until my left was my right
And up became down
With just one look
You knocked me off of my feet
So unable to speak
Oh how you made me weak

—Mae, "Ready And Waiting To Fall"