Content Warnings: There is a some graphic violence in this chapter near the end. (It starts with: Several things happened all at once...) Also, Vriska being Vriska is in this chapter.
The next few days settled into something of a routine. She'd get up early and assist Jake with Harry's new healing regime, have breakfast, patrol with whoever was available, get on with Harry's regime for lunch, have lunch, do chores around the camp, Harry's dinner regime, have dinner herself with everyone else, watch over Harry for a bit, and then retire for the night.
On the third day, Harry woke in the morning and was cogent enough to ask questions.
"Wurr im I?" he slurred, dark green eyes barely focused on the canopy of the tent.
"In the tent but I'm not quite..."
She started to elaborate but it was unnecessary. He merely nodded once, accepting the answer with a soft grunt. His gaze was drawn to the dark blob sitting on the bed next him that surely wasn't Hermione. "Hoos tha'?"
"That's Jake. He and his friends... they're..." Hermione trailed off, her mind going blank as she flailed desperately for an answer that sounded remotely plausible.
"We're backpackers," Jake almost shouted. "We're wizards, you know, like you and all but, um, we're just mad for spelunking. We were taking a bit of a break before... before..." Jake stammered, realizing he had no idea how wizards traveled much less what they called it. Roxy had been babbling about it once, it started with an 'A'... Shaking his head, he decided glossing over the whole thing was best. "Um, before we ran into you lot. You two were in a right spot. Lucky we found you when we did."
"Sp'leunking?"
"Mmhmm. You know, exploring caves," Jake supplied in an almost convincing and not terrifyingly loud tone. "From New Zealand, you know. Here with my mates from Uni, see. And the caves back home have gotten to be a bit of a bore, really. Thought we'd visit you Poms for a bit, get a lay of the land, you know."
Harry blinked tiredly and nodded again. His eyes began to shut as if he was going back to sleep and they had to shake him awake, for which he was less than grateful. They managed to get him to eat a bit of oatmeal before he became uncooperative. Wisely, they let him win that round and allowed him to rest.
As soon as Harry nodded off for good, Hermione looked over at Jake and hissed incredulously, "Spelunking, really?"
"It's the best I could come up with in the moment," he replied sheepishly with a shrug. "I'm rubbish at lying, if you can't tell. When you can't tell the whole truth it's best to go with a half-truth rather than a lie, as my Gran always said."
Hermione was glad that Harry had been so out of it because that verbal diarrhea combined with Jake's terrible performance wouldn't have convinced a toddler. Though she conceded he'd done much better than she had, at least he hadn't frozen up. Jane didn't take the news of their cover story nearly as well.
"Spelunking?! Are you kidding me, English?! None of us know the first thing about it!"
"I do," Jake mumbled a trifle petulantly.
Jane huffed exasperatedly, patting his arm gently. "I know you do, Jake. But once he's awake and aware enough, he'll have questions. And John and I have to be in that room with him on occasion and we both know bupkis about stuff like that. I mean, I know I can look things up and muddle through, but you know John won't take it seriously at all..."
John chose that moment to wander in, asking brightly, "What won't I take seriously?"
Jane closed her eyes and then opened them again, looking up at the tent canopy as if she was asking God if it was time for her ten-minute break. An aggravating fifteen-minute conversation followed which perfectly illustrated Jane's statement about John not taking it seriously as he kept purposefully confusing spelunking with other words each more ridiculous than the last. In the end, Jane and Hermione agreed they'd just have to roll with it and hope for the best.
By the time dinner rolled around, Harry was a bit more lucid when they woke him up, though not by much. Jane had come in with so she could check the progress of his healing, though she didn't touch him because of the very real probability that her power might decide to get frisky and attempt to heal him regardless of her own wishes.
The check-up went well and Harry bought the lie that Jane was just one of Jake's friends from university. Harry was muggle raised like her, so to him it wouldn't be so unusual that an American might be attending a university in New Zealand. The idea that she was mad for spelunking though... Hermione shook her head and concentrated on her task.
She applied the dittany and then took the bowl of soup John had delivered so she could help Harry eat. He was irritated by the fact that he was too weak to feed himself, grumbling the entire time while she spooned soup into his mouth. Jane and Hermione both counted that as very good progress. The frequent application of Jake's Hope was working just as Rose had theorized.
Once she was finished with Harry, who tired quite quickly, she, Jane, and Jake joined everyone else in the main dining area. As always, dinner was a lively, if a bit over-loud, affair. Dave and Roxy immediately claimed their seats to her left and right respectively. They had begun their little time travel journey and were eager to discuss their exploits with her. It was quite strange, hearing about Roxy's first meeting with her but from a different perspective than her own, but it was no less amusing though the memories it brought up were tinged with melancholy. Unconsciously, she clutched the locket, eyes losing focus for just a moment before coming back to herself.
The only one who noticed the movement was Dirk, who quickly whispered something in Kanaya's ear. Both of them left shortly thereafter, not that anyone else much noticed. Mostly because they were far too distracted by Karkat and Terezi being, well, Karkat and Terezi.
As dinner wound down, people began to drift away. Since she'd gotten here, she hadn't fully understood the purpose of the entertainment zone, as Roxy called it. To her it had seemed merely a pole tent with a brazier, which was nice, but hardly what anyone could term entertaining aside from the warmth it might provide. But in the last two days, she'd gotten somewhat acquainted with it.
The tent itself was rather simple. There were loads of fairy lights draped around the canopy, powered by the strange green blocks she'd seen four years ago. A television had been set up nearby, also powered by little green generators, though it was thinner than any television Hermione had ever seen. Next to the television was a strange, slim device she didn't recognize. It vaguely reminded her of a VCR, which her parents had back home, only it was much smaller and thinner - there was no way a video tape would fit into it at all. When she enquired, though, Dirk had curtly told her that it was a Blu-ray player without elaborating any further. Hermione didn't bother to ask him for clarification.
To make things fair, everyone's name was put in a hat and one name was chosen. To most everyone's relief, it had been Dirk's night to choose. His choice had been 'Day of the Dead', which 99% of the group was okay with. It was an 80s classic and fun, either despite or because of the cheese factor depending on who you asked. The lone exception being Roxy, who'd loudly complained because she hated scary movies.
"You wanna watch '2001' instead, Rox?" Dirk offered, only slightly sarcastically.
"Jesus Christ, no! M'not gonna watch some fucking movie that takes three whole ass hours for one stupid shot of a space station. Ain't no one got time for that," she retorted, errantly flicking popcorn in his general direction.
"Okay, that's a wildly inaccurate statement that I've thoroughly addressed on multiple occasions, which we aren't getting into again," Dirk shot back, glowering when Roxy rolled her eyes at him. "That movie is a fucking masterpiece of filmmaking and someday you're gonna appreciate my attempts to broaden your mind."
Roxy muttered something that sounded suspiciously like 'don't hold your breath', which he duly ignored. Hermione had tried her best to soothe her, though it didn't seem to make much of a difference. It was almost funny that someone who was as tough as Roxy could be scared witless of a movie, where it was all just make-believe given life by skilled movie professionals. And when Hermione pointed this out, her friend huffed indignantly, whispering, "it's real enough for me," before going sullenly silent.
Feeling a pang of sympathy, she grasped Roxy's hand and gave a quick squeeze, letting her know she'd be there for her as always; even if Hermione did find her reasoning a bit ridiculous. From the opening credit crawl to the very end, Roxy spent most of the film with her face in Hermione's shoulder, holding her hand in a death-grip. Hermione still had a few crescent moon shaped nicks on the back of her hand from Roxy's nails.
The night before had been quieter. Everyone mostly sat by the fire, with the exception of John and Jade, who'd made S'mores and had eventually inveigled everyone to make their own as well. Hermione had tried one and it wasn't bad. She'd left early though, as Jade had brought out her guitar and that could only mean music - which meant things were a hair's breadth from getting more raucous than she was prepared to deal with.
Jade had also brought out the guitar on movie night, just after the film had finished. It had started simply enough with what amounted to a lovely group gathering singing songs around the brazier, which quickly devolved into something that was an upsetting mixture of jam session/dance party/rap battle/performance art. Hermione had decided from then on to avoid any shenanigans that involved a guitar or any other instrument being unceremoniously summoned from thin air.
That decided, she had retreated so could spend a few minutes with Harry that night, watching him sleep fitfully, as always, before returning to the living/dining room area to read a bit before going to bed. She had settled herself into one of the worn armchairs pushed up against the wall, paging through 'Tales of Beedle the Bard'. From the darkness beyond the tent, she could hear the faint strains of a bluesy guitar riff and the warbling of a harmonica. Jane's voice carried over shortly after. Hermione couldn't hear the words clearly but the pointed melancholy of the song made her feel unaccountably sad. Tears came, though she couldn't quite say for sure why. Sighing shakily, she wiped the tears away and curled a hand over the locket, trying with utmost desperation to read.
She wasn't quite sure how long she sat there trying to read, going over the same sentence countless times. Flipping the pages quickly, she came to the one with the strange runic symbol that wasn't in any of her syllabaries. She was pondering this when her book was unceremoniously ripped out of her hands. Gasping indignantly, her gaze was fixed on the person - the very rude person - who'd taken her book from her.
Vriska Serket stood before her, unpleasant smile in place as she examined the book she'd taken. Flumping down on the armchair next to Hermione's, she idly perused the tome, flipping the pages without caring much if she might damage them. Her mouth went slack in shock as she stared at the Alternian, barely unable to believe what just happened.
"Excuse me," Hermione hissed sharply. Vriska ignored her. "Excuse me, you took my book and I'd very much like it back, please."
Vriska turned slowly, regarding her with those mismatched eyes in a distinctly unfriendly fashion. She snapped the book shut and held it up, shaking it lightly. "You want this back?"
She was intimidated by Vriska but she wasn't about to back down. "Yes, I do, if you please. It was rude of you to have taken it in the first place."
"You want it back so bad, why don't you just take it?" Vriska drawled, holding it out to her. Hermione reached out to take it and was unsurprised when Vriska snatched it back at the last moment, laughing in a very Malfoy-like fashion. "Don't see why you want it so bad," she said conversationally, one finger tapping out a marshal sounding tattoo on the cover. "This book is garbage. Ain't nothin' but fakey fake hoofbeast shit for sad little wigglers just beggin' to be culled. Guess I can see why you keep reading it tho', considering what a huge loser you are."
Over the years, Hermione had endured her fair share of insults. This one wasn't particularly new or terribly inventive, it was a sad children's playground taunt. Not even worth responding to. She took a deep breath and stood, holding her hand out. "I have asked you nicely several times to return my book. Give it back or..."
"Or what?" Vriska challenged mockingly as she shot to her feet. "You gonna wiggle that stupid stick of yours at me, say a little magic spell? Pretty weak threat, if you ask me. My guess is you ain't got the stones to go toe to toe with me, despite being a brave little griffin. And even if you did, not like it'd do a whole lot, seeing as I doubt you got the luck to beat me even in a fair fight." She towered over Hermione, her smile gone as she tossed the book aside. Hermione stood her ground stubbornly, mastering her fear. "I mean, I'm a fucking god or as close as you can get to one in this crapsack universe. And all you are is a brave little griffin with nothing but a magic stick between you and the thrashing you deserve."
Her fingers twitched, moving towards the pocket she normally kept her wand in. And she realized with a sudden jolt of fear that her wand wasn't there. Eyes wide, she tried to subtly pat herself, to see if it shifted in her pocket but it hadn't.
"Looking for this?" Vriska asked, carelessly twirling the vine wood wand between her fingers.
"How did you-"
Vriska's grin became predatory. "I'm a Thief. I stole it."
She had read about a Thief in the pages in the green book. The book had been deliberately vague with certain information. The trolls had been referred to solely by their in-game roles or their chumhandles. Vriska, then, must have been the legendary Thief of Light. She had been vicious but had proved to be integral to winning the game. She stole fortune or luck and used it to tilt battles in her favor which gave her a deeply unfair advantage when facing her head-to-head. Paling considerably, she held out her hand and was pleased it did not shake. "Give me back my wand, please."
"Kanaya tells me that you're the brightest witch of your age." She held the wand between her hands, using her thumbs to push upwards which caused the wood to creak ominously. "So, tell me, brightest witch... how you gonna stop me if you ain't got a wand?" Hermione had gone still, her eyes on the wand in danger of being snapped. Vriska didn't bother to wait for an answer, snorting contemptuously. "You rely on this shitty little piece of wood to channel your power. Not even dreaming you can do more. It'd be funny if it wasn't so sad."
"Not all of us can be gods," Hermione snapped, her hands clenched into fists at her sides.
Vriska laughed, it was harsh and rusty sounding. "You ain't wrong about that. But ain't no body asking you to be a god, dipshit. Least, not yet. All I'm asking for is some basic fucking competency." Hermione held her tongue, but the angry narrowing of her eyes said more than she meant to. "Lemme give you some advice, not that I think you'll take it. No one ever fucking does. I swear I'm unappreciated in my time." She rolled her eyes dramatically, her unbearably unpleasant smirk back in place.
"I was like you once. I relied on my dice, thinking somehow that they made me more powerful - that they were lucky," and with that, she summoned eight blue triangular dice that glowed dimly. Bouncing one over her knuckles artfully before casually dismissing them with a hand wave, she continued, "It took me forever to see that it wasn't the dice. Wasn't even just my Godtier title and all the power that entailed. I made my own luck... and the only thing that stood between me and what I wanted was myself. This wand, it don't give you power," she snarled, shaking the wand for emphasis. "You already have it." She poked the young witch in the sternum with her own wand mockingly. "You're just too fucking weak to use it to take what you want..."
"Perhaps that's how things worked in your universe. They don't work that way here."
"That as may be... don't change the fact that you're a fucking coward that can't look beyond her books and do something for once 'stead of just reading shit and thinking it makes you somethin' more than useless while using this wand like a shitty crutch for losers." The little witch bristled at being called a coward, and it made Vriska laugh loudly. "But I've been wrong before. Maybe you're not as pathetic as you look. Maybe you actually have what it takes to be great. Guess you won't know till you actually try... that is if you can muster the courage. Either way, you best nut up real quick or you're forever gonna be a victim to people like me."
She smirked, tossing the wand to the ground before dramatically exiting the tent. Once she was sure the Alternian was gone, Hermione allowed her body to tremble, though if it was from fear or rage, not even she knew. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and bent down to retrieve her wand and her book. Still shaking, she shuffled off to her bunk, throwing herself on it for a good long cry.
The morning after the confrontation dawned with a gloomy, overcast sky. It hadn't begun to rain, but it was definitely threatening it. Hermione hadn't felt much like doing anything at all, much less having some kind of grand adventure to close a rift and save two universes. She was tired and cranky, having gotten next to no sleep. Matters weren't helped much by the fact that she had a piercing headache that no pain potion or muggle medicine managed to touch. Everyone noted her bad mood though no one but Roxy said anything about it. She pulled her aside so that no one could overhear their conversation.
"You okay?" she asked cautiously, tilting her head.
"I'm fine." The reply was short and snappish.
Roxy hummed, rolling back and forth on her heels. "Soooo... you're not at all okay, then. Vriska got to you?"
"How did you know?"
Roxy gave her a flat look, her lips twisting wryly. "First, she didn't follow everyone else out of the tent last night and when she did show up, she had that unbearably smug attitude she always gets when she's fucked with someone. I ain't a detective like Janey, but it don't take a genius to deduce she got you alone and said some heinous shit cus that's her fucking MO. Second, I've been dealing with her crap for a while and you got that 'I just dealt with Vriska Serket and alls I got is this lousy shirt' look. So, I'm gonna ask again and this time don't lie. You good or nah?"
Hermione's eyebrows rose subtly in amusement before she answered, "Nah, I suppose..."
And then she launched into what happened. She watched Roxy's face, which went on a journey from outrage to fury. Thin lipped and shaking, Roxy inhaled deeply before giving Hermione a fierce hug.
"If I thought I could beat her ass, I would. But we all know she'll just fucking cheat and gank my luck, like always. You don't listen to a thing that bitch says, you hear?" Hermione nodded, tearing up a bit as she gave her friend thanks in a very small voice. "Good. So, ya nervous?"
"A little."
"Well, don't be. Still your older sister, even tho we're, like, the same fucking age now." She gave a hoarse laugh before pulling her into another rough hug. "So you gotta believe me when I say, you got this."
She didn't feel like she had much of anything at the moment, whatever that might be, but she agreed with Roxy anyway. Rose came over seconds later to let her know everyone was ready. The party going to the rift was a bit larger than Hermione had assumed it would be. It consisted of Rose, Kanaya, Terezi, and herself. Jade and Dave were already at the rift, waiting for them. She supposed it made some sense, because of the snatchers Roxy had been observing as the week went by.
The raiding party she'd been tracking was quite large, and while going with a smaller party might have caused less notice, a larger one with a fully realized Godtier player made more tactical sense. She didn't quite see why Kanaya and Terezi had come. From what she could tell, their culture was significantly more martially inclined than human culture was, so perhaps that was why. She hadn't seen them fight, so it was unwise to judge though it was hard to put her faith in an unknown.
There was also the matter of how they would blend in. The forest they were in had several trails that cut through it. Often when on patrol with Roxy, they'd pass other hikers and say hello. The only thing that caused other folks on the trails to pause was Roxy's American accent. It was a source of curiosity but nothing remotely alarming about it. They'd have a chat and then move on. But if they were to cross hikers now... how in the world would they explain Kanaya and Terezi, who looked so alien? Watching Rose just ahead of her holding Kanaya's hand and pointing out things of interest, Hermione hoped they had a plan.
As luck would have it, the trail was completely deserted. At first, Hermione was somewhat relieved to find no one else on the trail. Her time with Roxy had made her a bit more alert to things and that relief soon turned to worry. Yes, there were no other hikers but perhaps that wasn't as good a thing as she thought. There also wasn't any sound... no birds, no animals scurrying in the underbrush. It was eerily quiet. She slowly wrapped her hand around her wand and slipped it out of her pocket, holding it on to it tightly.
She hadn't noticed that Terezi had hung back until she'd looked behind her to find the Seer of Mind gone. Eyes darting forward, she inhaled to say something but squeaked when Rose's hand grasped her wrist and squeezed. Bright lavender eyes glanced at her, Rose shook her head slowly as they continued to walk, now with Kanaya absent as well.
"Keep your wand palmed," Rose murmured as she pressed something into Hermione's hand.
Looking down, the young witch balked and nearly stumbled. The thing in her hand was what looked like the kind of wand some kind of clown or circus performer might use, most likely for comedy purposes. There was no way to beat about the bush... Rose had given her a single knitting needle, painted with blue and yellow stripes with a silly little bright red bauble at the end.
"What in Merlin's name is this?" she hissed, holding the damnable thing up with a derisive little shake.
Rose grinned. "The very first pair of needles I ever Alchemized... they're just your basic, everyday needle-wand. I have its partner, but that'd defeat the purpose here."
"And what is that purpose?"
"Well, we can't have them taking your actual wand, can we? So we'll give them a fake, one that's no more magical than a random stick you'd pick up off the ground." Hermione gave her a confused look, and Rose elaborated some. "Due to the fundamental incompatibility of our respective powers, you can't use our weapons effectively therefore it presents no actual danger to us if it's taken."
And then she flicked her hand absently and seconds later a slim white wand slid into her hand out of thin air. Twirling it, she walked forward resolutely, a kind of hardness settled over her face as if she were preparing herself mentally for some as yet unknown misfortune. "Whatever happens, just let me do all the talking and follow my lead."
"Is something going to happen?"
Rose smiled, though it was clearly strained.
Her eyes went cold and her face settled into a horrible kind of fierce determination, even as she made idle conversation about mundane things about the weather or what bird she may or may not have seen just a moment ago. Hermione did her level best to answer with the same nonchalance, though she knew she had failed - prevarication was never her strong suit.
Then in between the meaningless chatter, Rose began to intersperse distinctly magical topics, making oblique references to what was going on in Britain and how she was hoping to help loads of muggleborns, just like her, escape rather more loudly than necessary. She also made a number of insulting statements about Voldemort (saying his name just like that, not caring to refer to him by the sobriquet everyone used out of fear) and his Death Eaters, not to mention liberally peppering her commentary with stern indictments of the current Ministry. All the while, she toyed with her wand, bouncing it between her fingers and occasionally flipping it in the air. Hermione couldn't continue to pretend that she wasn't scared shitless. Her eyes darted around restlessly, waiting for an attack.
The forest had gone deathly still. Hermione could feel her heart beating in her chest.
"Wands up, ladies," said a voice that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere.
Rose's eyes cut to her left, a nearly imperceptible smirk forming on her face. Her gaze slid over to Hermione, as she intoned slyly, "Oh no, we've been caught."
Her hands lifted into the air, wand dangling between her fingers carelessly. Hermione followed her lead, as promised, though she couldn't stop her hands from shaking. The voice became corporeal as the disillusioned form of the snatcher that had caught them appeared. Worse, the air all around him rippled and Hermione understood the true horror of their situation. They'd somehow stumbled upon a camp of some sort - a camp for snatchers. There had to be at least thirty or more of them. They were surrounded on all sides. With a quick flick of the wrist, their wands were summoned from their hands, though the vinewood wand tucked securely into Hermione's watchband remained stubbornly still.
Licking her lips nervously, Hermione whispered, "Rose..."
Rose smiled and winked, turning her attention back to the lead snatcher, a horrible looking man who appeared as if hygiene was some sort of foreign concept. He leered at him, his teeth looking mottled and grey.
"Well, well, well... seems we caught ourselves a pair of little rebels," he sneered, towering over him - smelling every bit as odious as he looked. "Only people foolish enough to say the Dark Lord's name are blood traitors and mudbloods too stupid to fear him proper. I wonder if you lot are on the list, then? Brucie," he called back at the crowd, making a little summoning gesture. A skinny, pale looking man (who looked no older than Hermione herself) shuffled forward, carrying a battered looking black book. "What's your name, love."
"Rose Lalonde, and this is my cousin, Roxanne. Same last name. I suppose you're not here to ask us out for a date - rather horrible way to go about it, if you ask me," replied the Seer of Light a trifle impertinently. She smiled slowly, lavender eyes narrowing as she looked the lead snatcher up and down calculatingly. "It stinks of desperation."
"You've got a mouth on you, don't you," the lead snatcher growled, grabbing Rose's face and pressing his fingers into her cheeks. And then he slapped her, hard enough that her head whipped to the side. "Check the names, Brucie."
Rose spit out a gob of blood, the light in her eyes bordering on fire. "Yeah, check the names, Brucie... like a good little boy, make mum proud."
"Keep on mouthing off like that and you'll get yourself killed, cunt."
Tilting her head, Rose laughed lightly. "You fear death. You all do... even your Dark Lord, who trembles in terror of it like a dog in a storm." Her smile turned deadly and the air took on an acrid quality, like just before a storm. "But I don't fear it. I don't fear you and I think your Dark Lord is a fool, who'll die a coward's death like the rest of you."
Several things happened all at once. There was a scream from deep in the back that became a chorus, which planted the seed of fear in the large group of wizards ringed around them. Shortly thereafter, there was the ominous sound of a chainsaw being revved which was followed by the groaning sound of a tree as it cracked and fell in front of them, effectively crushing their leader beneath it. At the very same moment, Rose transformed into her Godtier robes, her needle-wands in hand as she let lose a brilliant blast of Light. A scream sounded behind them seconds later.
It was Terezi, who'd driven her swords into the back of one snatcher before doing some kind of backwards pirouette off of him. Landing on the ground, the Seer of Mind deflected a stray curse that would have hit Hermione with her sword before relieving the hand from the wizard foolish enough to attack her.
And suddenly there was an arm around her waist, pulling her back. She began to fight the hold, until she heard the voice in her ear...
"It's me," Kanaya whispered urgently. "Wait for it..."
Dave came sliding in with his customary clockwork rhythm and time literally stopped. Twirling his sword onehanded, he turned to look at Rose and said simply, "So, looks like we got ourselves into a situation again, huh."
"Nothing I didn't plan for," she replied calmly.
His eyebrows rose over his glasses. "You say that shit a lot for someone whose plans are so convoluted that we just end up winging it - ceding control to the reigning queen of batshit mind fuckery and therefore forcing the rest of us to deal with three whole ass years of her relentless bullshit."
Rose rolled her eyes. "You're never going to let me live that down, are you?"
"Nope," he said with a grin. And then he wrinkled his nose, poking absently on the amputated hand with his sword. "Notice there's a curious excess of limbs on the ground. Terezi's work?"
"I'm appalled you even have to ask," Terezi cackled wildly in response, wiping the blood off her sword on her pant leg. Dave made a sound between exasperation and disgust, which only made her smile more widely. "They'll live. Well, most of them will, anyway."
"Have I mentioned that I love it when you talk about murder all casual like that," he deadpanned, flipping the hand away from him with his sword tip.
"It's not murder, Dave. These men are criminals by any objective standard, especially if we were to judge by your absurdly strict human moral codes. I've dispensed much needed justice," explained Terezi with mock-impatience. "And considering some of the things they've done, I'm being exceptionally lenient."
"Yeah, yeah, we all know you got a boner for justice. I'm just saying, not all of us are used to your particular brand of shank-first-ask-questions-postmortem way of determining guilt or innocence," he said, pointedly gesturing to Hermione.
She had, indeed, gone pale from fear and shock. Truth be told, she'd spent months with this kind of low-grade anxiety from being on the run, and this confrontation had only brought it to the fore. After the adrenaline rush had subsided, she'd gone quiet, processing all that had happened. It was sweet that Dave had noticed that she was having trouble with everything.
"I'm fine, Dave," she murmured softly. "While I don't agree with her methods, I understand why it had to be done. We're at war. There will be causalities..." She paused thoughtfully. "These men have been hunting muggleborns, like me. I've seen what happens to the people they've captured... where they're taking them. And I'm not sorry there will be one less of them, if we're being honest. Better them than us." And then she gave him a watery but true smile. "Thank you, though... for worrying about me."
With a flick of his wrist, his sword disappeared and he loped over to give her a hug. "I always got your back, time buddy," he mumbled before letting her go, ruffling her hair for old time's sake. And then he returned to Terezi's side. She poked him with her cane. He accepted the drubbing with equanimity, booping her nose as they chatted.
Rose shook her head as Dave and Terezi continued to converse in their weird jokey, half-sincere way, before looking up with a grin at the Witch of Space, who'd arrived in a rush of blazing neon. "Jade, be a dear and send these two to the prearranged meeting place, would you?" And she gestured at Kanaya, who had followed behind Hermione like a shadow.
"And be fast about it. Can't hold back time much longer... Shit tends to get wild in this universe when I stop time for too long," he admitted with a shrug. "And as hilarious as it would be to upper-cut these punkasses with a multiple mass aneurysm, the fact that I can't choose who in the world that happens to makes the laugh factor significantly less funny."
Before she could even react to that horrifying pronouncement, Jade flicked her fingers at them. It felt like she couldn't breathe for a single, terrifying moment as the world around her went bright green. Seconds later, the world reasserted itself as she and Kanaya landed in a heap on the cold, leaf-covered ground.