A/N: Yay, less late than last time! I think I'm on a roll! No special notes this time, so I'll just get on with it. Ooh wait, I do have one note. This chapter is dedicated to Wikipedia, without which this chapter would have been a lot more "that one spell" and "the really painful spell" and so on.

EDIT: For those of you who received an alert that there was a new chapter (or two), it's sort of a lie. One of my lovely readers pointed out a few discrepancies, which I had to change as soon as possible. I'm sorry to inform you, readers, but I'm not really infallible. (laugh)

Read, enjoy, review!

Chapter Twenty-three:

The first few corridors they raced through Hermione recognised, but they took a left where she would have taken a right to reach her moon room, and she was lost again. It was disconcerting, running at full tilt through corridors she did not know. To make matters more confusing, none of the little nice sculptures they passed looked at all familiar. She would have thought that she would have remembered a handful of them, but none triggered her memory. A sculpture of glass or transparent stone had shattered during one of the quakes that assailed the house, leaving bright shards on its platform and the carpeted hallway.

A few minutes later, she found out that this was because they were not headed toward the front door. When they came to a halt, she was at a small entrance, hidden from the Death Eaters at the gate. Lucius had extinguished the candles in the hall, so their only steady illumination radiated from the moon and stars. From here she could see flashes of light slice through the night air as they tried spell after spell to break through the wards. The cool air brushed any remaining fog from her brain, and she felt ready to take on a squad of Death Eaters. A troop? A platoon? Something that ask Lucius later.

She gripped her wand. "Are we going to ambush them?"

Because the mansion's elaborate gables cast deep shadows over them, she could not see the expression on his face when he replied. But to her surprise, he sounded amused. "I do not doubt your skill, and I am flattered that you think so highly of mine, but I think it would be best to augment our numbers before attempting such a manoeuvre. Or do you truly believe you and I alone are capable of defeating a dozen Death Eaters, quite possibly with the Dark Lord at their head."

Hermione swallowed and stared at the shadowy group standing before the glimmering gate. "No, I suppose not. Then we're going to get help?"

"You're half right. You are going to get help, and I am going to keep Augustus Rockwood out of my silver cabinet. Last time he was in there, he stole a very fine set of spoons given as a gift to my grandfather by one of the mages of the Russian czar's court."

Hermione opened her mouth to ask about the spoons – spoons? – but then she realised that the aside was meant to distract her from what he was proposing. "You are not taking on these people single-handedly! Harry's bad enough with his hero complex; you're supposed to have a healthy sense of self-preservation."

He chuckled. "I certainly do not plan on sacrificing myself, Hermione. I have complete faith in my wards and the magic within these walls and in you. Can you perform a Side-Along Apparition?"

"I can."

When he spoke again, she could hear the smile in his words. "I never doubted it. Now, I want you to go to someone you trust, perhaps McGonagall, and take them to a spot I will indicate to you. It will be a cumbersome process, but you must bring as many people as you think necessary to fight off the Dark Lord's followers.

"Do you see that hedge there, trimmed in the shape of a winged horse?" he asked, indicating the fantastical shrub in question.

"Yes."

"Good. The wards around the house begin there, so that is where you will bring reinforcements. I will recommend that you do not make your way straight through the grounds but that you attack them from the direction in which they arrived." He paused.

"Am I correct in assuming that you are responsible for some of the more successful strategies employed by the Order and the Ministry's Aurors against the Death Eaters?'

Well, this was no time for false modesty. "I contributed to them, yes." How that was relevant now, she could not imagine.

"McGonagall implied as much. Then I am certain that my faith in you is not misplaced."

She desperately wished she could see him. Of course, he had just as much control over his facial expressions as over his voice, but it would have been reassuring nonetheless to see those familiar lines and angles and piercing grey eyes.

He spoke only one more word, but his voice was soft as silk. "Go." And before she could touch him one last time, squeeze his hand or brush his hair back or kiss him, he had returned to the house. The door shut behind him, leaving Hermione cold and very alone in the night.

Blinking furiously, she hurried to the distinctive hedge as quickly as she could while maintaining absolute silence. Stop it, she told herself, he's right. It was foolish to think we could take on those people without any help. I was foolish to think we could. In order to Apparate back here, with someone else in tow no less, she had to focus on the landscape and stop dwelling on Lucius. A minute or two passed silently as she took a quick but thorough mental photograph of the garden and then Apparated to a much more familiar locale.

Insects chirruped, and music drifted through the streets of Hogsmeade. She would have liked to hire a carriage, but a brief glance around the village showed empty streets between homes and buildings tightly shut up against the terrors of the night. No one would risk stepping outside their wards, not even to take her to Hogwarts. If she could manage to fly on a broom without losing her dinner (well, her cocoa and biscuits), that would have been her next best option. As it was, though, she was reduced to walking the distance, vulnerable to anything and anyone who might be lurking.

The way she saw things, she had two options: to run to castle as fast as she could or to disguise herself as someone who might regularly take midnight walks to Hogwarts and reduce her risk of tripping and spraining something. Well, she could hardly stand around all day fretting about it. Hagrid still came and went at odd hours, but that Illusion would be take a lot of energy to maintain, as she looked nothing at all like the gigantic professor and groundskeeper. Still, she could not think of anyone else who would dare venture outside this late.

Despite the deadly seriousness of the situation, she could not help smiling a little as she cast the charm. A feeling like cold, wet egg dripped from her head to her toes, and when she looked down at her hands, she saw huge, hairy hands capable of palming a small child. Her perspective was all skewed when she tried to look at the rest of herself, so she stopped trying and set off toward the school at a brisk pace. Hagrid might have been whistling on his way back home, but she wanted remain aware of her surroundings and as inconspicuous as possible.

It was difficult to know how to walk because her natural proportions were so unlike Hagrid's, but she took long strides and swung her arms and hoped her exaggerated loping gait was convincing. Before long, she left behind the glow of Hosgmeade for the darkness of an undisturbed night. The Forbidden Forest loomed close and ominous, rustling with the movements of nocturnal creatures… and nothing else, she hoped. Her mind was too focused on the Death Eaters outside Lucius's manor to worry too much anyway.

She quickened her pace and soon saw the great bulk of the castle rise before her like something from a horror film. The only reason she had not run the whole way here was that she knew she would have a terrible stitch in her side if she did, and she wanted to be at her very best to repel the Death Eaters. Now that she could see Hogwarts clearly, she allowed herself to break into a run.

She entered the castle unchallenged and fought the urge to slow down and take in the sight of the place that had been her home for years. Nostalgia threatened to overwhelm her, but she kept her eyes fixed on the route to the Headmistess's chamber and did not allow them to wander from the light emanated by her wand. The faint illumination of starlight and moonlight in the Great Hall reminded her of the room in Lucius's home where she had stayed for those few hours.

In the distance she saw what she assumed to be another professor and ducked into the first room she found. She waited for an agonising minute or two, but the footsteps never approached. Would a professor try to hold a conversation with 'Hagrid' at this late hour? There was a charm to disguise her voice as well, but that would be more unnecessary energy expended. She whispered lumos again and went on her way.

The stone gargoyle guarding the entrance to the chamber she sought looked positively menacing in the shadows thrown by her wand. Like Dumbledore before her, McGonagall had settled on a particular theme for her passwords, this time the names of Scottish towns. Hermione began rattling off a list and sighed with relief when the gargoyle swung open at Aberdeen. She took a moment to remove the Illusion and dashed up the winding stairs.

"Professor!" she cried. "Professor! It's urgent, please!"

She came to a halt in the large office adorned with portraits of past Headmasters. A few of them awoke at her entrance, but most of those grumbled and went back to sleep. Phineas Nigellus Black said something unpleasant about upstart youth and subsided. But one in particular stayed awake and smiled at her. Her heard lurched to see Dumbledore on the wall, wearing an amused and kind expression she remembered so well.

"Miss Granger," he said, "what a pleasant surprise. Do forgive Phineas; he isn't as acquainted with the pleasures of running pell-mell up guarded staircases in the middle of the night as you and I are."

"Professor," she said between gasping breaths, "It's… Death Eaters. They're attacking… the Malfoy home. He… Lucius Malfoy… do you know…?"

He nodded and gave her a sympathetic smile, but before he could answer, Minerva flew into the room, startling Hermione. Her grey hair frizzed around her head in a corona, and a thick white nightgown made her look one of the castle ghosts.

"Miss Granger?" she asked in a sharp, worried voice. "What's the matter?"

Hermione took a few more breaths to compose herself and then answered in a rush. "It's Mr. Malfoy, Professor. Death Eaters are attacking his home, and he believes they're preparing to do something much worse very soon. He asked me to fetch help, and I don't know how long he can stand against them."

While Hermione spoke, the Headmistress crossed the room and began rummaging through her desk. "Slow down, Miss Granger."

It was only upon hearing this form of address for the third time that night that it occurred to her that while both the Headmistress and the former Headmaster (she assumed) knew of her marriage, both of them continued to address her as they had known her in school. Well, Dumbledore had continued to call Voldemort by his given name long after others had forgotten or willed themselves to forget.

"Now, what is this you're telling me about Death Eaters at the Malfoy residence? And which Malfoy are you talking about?" It was more than a casual question, Hermione knew. McGonagall had kept the secret of Lucius's work as an undercover agent for years now and would no doubt be aggravated to discover that he had broken his cover.

"It's Lucius Malfoy. Please, Professor, I promise I'll explain everything later." Not everything, she silently amended. There was no reason her Headmistress should (or probably wanted) to know that she had been doing anything other than sleeping when the attack had come. "We have to get help now. They were breaking through the wards when I left."

"Very well. Albus, would you kindly alert all members of the Order you can find? Tell them only to meet at 12 Grimmauld Place."

"Of course, Minerva." With that, Dumbledore disappeared from his portrait, and the room felt a little emptier to Hermione.

"Now then, am I to assume to you know the essentials of Mr. Malfoy's whereabouts for the past four years?" The Headmistress was engaged in writing something, but at this, she looked up at Hermione with a piercing gaze.

It was hard not to feel like a student again, standing before the Headmistress's desk. She tried not to shift from foot to foot. "I know some of it, yes."

"Very good. That is one fewer explanation I shall have to give tonight. I am going to ask you to wait here while I put on some decent attire, and then you are going take me to the Malfoy residence. From there we shall make our way to 12 Grimmauld Place." She folded the scrap of parchment she had written on and stood to leave. Before she disappeared to her private chamber, she paused and gave Hermione a searching look.

"I'm sure this is a trying time for you, but you are performing admirably."

With that, she departed, leaving Hermione to blush and stare at her feet. A cough made her start, and she glanced around the room to see Phineas glaring down at her. "I thought you might like to know that I can hear people moving about. Do these friends of yours never sleep? And what's this I hear about Lucius Malfoy? If I'm not mistaken, he's married to Cygnus Black's granddaughter."

He must mean Narcissa, Hermione thought. "Actually, sir, you are mistaken," she said after a moment's consideration. "I mean, they were married, but I believe Narcissa left him a few years ago." What would the old Headmaster say if he learned Lucius had remarried to a Muggleborn?

"And those associates of his have finally turned on him. Hmph. I could have warned him about attaching himself too closely to those fanatics, but I remember Lucius from his time here as a student." He eyed her expectantly, evidently awaiting a response.

What was McGonagall doing that took so long? Hermione wondered. This conversation was becoming more and more strange. "You… saw him? In the Headmaster's office?"

He gave her a vulpine smile, obviously glad to impart a bit of gossip. "Oh yes, child. He was a proud boy, very proud. Sometimes one student or another would complain about him or his Slytherin friends, but no one could ever prove anything against him. He reminded me greatly of a young Tom Riddle in that respect. The headmaster tried to talk sense into him, but he never listened. Young people never do."

That was the longest speech she had ever heard from Phineas, and he seemed to realise it at the same moment she did. With one last mutter about brash children, he lay his head down and began snoring a little too loudly.

Minerva bustled in at that point, wearing unrelieved black and a tense expression. "I apologise to keep you waiting. Are you ready?" Hermione nodded. "Then let us be on our way."

They left the same way Hermione had come, discussing strategy and keeping an eye on their surroundings. This time Hermione did not bother with a disguise, sure that she and the Headmistress could dispatch any trouble they came across between Hogwarts and the boundary of the anti-Apparition magic. Minerva stopped just outside that boundary and laid a hand on Hermione's arm. Feeling very awkward and somehow backward, as if the Headmistress should be the one taking Hermione on a Side-Along Apparition, Hermione spoke the spell and soon found herself back at the garden and the Pegasus hedge.

In the distance but too close for comfort, Hermione heard odd crashing noises and saw flashes of light. But, she reminded herself, the lights and noises came from outside the house, so the Death Eaters had not yet managed to penetrate the wards or the walls.

"Thank you, Miss Granger," Minerva said after a moment. "I believe I can return here. It appears that whatever defences Malfoy has are functioning for the time being. Come, it will be easier if we Apparate to 12 Grimmauld together." This time, Hermione was the one squeezed through the horrible Side-Along compression.

When she felt normal again, she found herself standing on a familiar London street. A long time had passed since Sirius's death, but he was the first thing she always thought of when she came here. The eye wanted to slide past it, such a dismal little place it was, but inside half a dozen people had scrounged up candles, and in the midst of such activity, it looked almost jovial.

As soon as she entered, the attention turned toward her, and she found herself at the centre of a small throng. Before her friends could swarm, Minerva called sharply for a little order. Even Mad-Eye Moody stopped short at that tone, and Ron blushed bright red. Tonk's hair flickered for a moment and then settled on sky blue.

"Much better," she continued. "Now we have an urgent mission and very little time to plan. We are going to the Malfoy residence-"

Incredulous noises drowned out her voice, Harry and Ron the loudest of the lot. Hermione saw McGonagall give Tonks an exasperated look. The younger woman stuck her fingers in her mouth and blew an incredible ear-shattering whistle. Hermione laughed. Ron jumped and looked around frantically, hand on his wand.

"Thank you, Miss Tonks," Minerva said calmly. "May I continue? Good. We are going to the Malfoy residence to repel a Death Eater attack, and I should hope I don't have to remind you that we have reports that they are planning on carrying out some very serious assaults in the near future." Hermione was sure that those reports had come from Lucius and was equally sure that she was the only one besides Minerva who knew it.

"Hermione and I will bring two of you along via Side-Along apparition, and then we'll bring the rest. I don't know how many members will be able to come here tonight, so I will ask one of you to stay here for a short time. I'm sure you will have many questions when I tell you this, but I would be very grateful if we could postpone them until we are all safe again."

She sighed. "As I have said, we are preparing to stop a Death eater raid, but Lucius Malfoy is not to be harmed. We believe he is their target, and before you ask," she said, pointing a finger at Ron and Harry, who looked as if they were about to choke, "yes, I am quite certain that he is not their agent, and no, you will not question me about this right now. We'll discuss our plan of action when we arrive."

Her instructions were carried out more swiftly that Hermione would have guessed. She doubted she had been away more than half an hour, maybe twenty minutes when she found herself back at the Pegasus hedge with her wand drawn. She could still hear the strange crashing noises, but the flashes of hexes and jinxes were faint now. They were closer to the house, perhaps inside the front door. Her hands were damp, and she couldn't hear properly over the pounding of her heart.

She vaguely heard Mad-Eye ordering them to spread out around the front of the manor and then converge slowly and silently on the glow of magical activity. It was not the most complex of battle plans, but their best weapon right now was the element of surprise. Hermione wished she knew what Lucius had written in that letter and tried to tell herself that he would not expose himself or her to any more risk than necessary.

Once, she had done a little research on the Malfoy home out of the same bizarre curiosity that had led her to investigate the vaults. While there was little concrete information available on the house, she did learn that in general, the ancient, opulent wizarding manors were guarded by a protective charm which would not allow any to enter who were not invited by a member of the family.

Of course, as the coterie of Death Eaters had just proved, wards could be broken. Still, breaking through a charm with sheer brute force took a lot of time and energy they could not spare, so Hermione had been sent to the front of the party to invite the rest through the gates. She prayed that Tingy would not choose this moment to welcome her back. As soon as they passed the elaborate gate, each person took up his or her position in an inverted V pattern and then began a slow march toward the front door.

To either side of her, barely visible now, stood Harry and Kingsley. A little ways away, she saw a shadowy figure fire a spell into the garden. Bushes rustled as someone fell, and she hoped that someone was a bad guy. Kingsley turned his head in her direction and nodded. She sighed, turned to Harry, and nodded. It was probably Mad-Eye dispatching a sentry the Death Eaters had left behind for a situation just like this.

Their advantage of surprise over numbers lasted about three more minutes, and really, the numbers weren't so uneven. There were fewer than two Death Eaters per Order member, and it looked like half of them had forced their way inside. Hermione refused to let herself speculate about Lucius's safety and focused on the targets before her. One was a huge, imposing blond man, and another she recognised well. Antonin Dolohov, the frighteningly skilled Death Eater who had nearly killed her years ago, was advancing on her with his teeth bared. This time he would not find her so easy prey.

She began with the classic expelliarmus, which he dodged easily and countered with impedimenta, a surprisingly benign spell from this evil man. From her left, Kingsley cast petrificus totalus, but his shield charm blocked it. He advanced on her and fired incendio with a sweeping gesture. She brought up a shield of her own but felt the blast of heat scorch her face. Before she could counter, he cast a curse she could not identify at Kingsley, who pivoted in time to miss the brunt of the spell but fell as the burst brushed by his arm.

Harry had left to chase one of the Lestranges with a yell and a wildly misfired spectumsempra. She had shuddered when she heard that cry. Dolohov spared a moment to levitate Kingsley's body and fling him into a decorative tree before returning his attention to her. Shouts and flashes of light filled the air now, and a distant part of Hermione hoped that they had managed to draw off the attack on Lucius. She threw a spell she vaguely remembered witnessing at school, tarantallegra, at the Death Eater and was gratified to see his legs wobble and dance. She followed immediately with stupefy, but again he brought up a shield charm so fast that the spell bounced back at Hermione. It did not touch her, but in avoiding it, she tripped over a loose stone.

Just then, she heard running footsteps approach her position and struggled to her feet. A sharp bolt of pain seared her ankle as she stood, and she stumbled again before she could see who was near her. She cast a hurried episkey at her wounded ankle and rose almost before the spell took effect. It was a lumpy, ugly man leering at her and firing from behind a hedge something at her which left a poisonous green streak in the air. She raised a shield and returned with a stinging hex. Judging by his breathy squeals, her spell had hit its target.

By now Dolohov had recovered and was firing something else at her. It cut through her shield and forced her back to the ground. She managed to send off incarcerous as she fell, and when she stood again, she saw Dolohov unconscious and bound with rope. Her spell had conjured the ropes, but it should not have knocked him out. Her eyes scanned the area and came to rest on Lucius's familiar figure. The starlight shone on his short blond hair and momentarily gave it the appearance of a halo.

From behind her, the lumpy Death Eater shouted something, and she twisted in time to see a blue glow speeding toward her. She barely had time to raise a shield, and the glow vaporised it in a silver explosion. She scrabbled away into a very unfriendly, thorny shrub and turned her head to see a red streak flying toward her attacker. She was sure it was Lucius, and when she had extracted herself from the bush, she tried to find him to acknowledge him with a grateful nod.

But he was nowhere to be seen. Instead, Harry stood a little ways away from where she had last seen her husband, wand trained on a dark lump on the ground. Maybe he had found his quarry, then. Hermione thought she knew what he would like to do to a man who had tortured Neville's parents to insanity and hurried toward him to prevent the worst of it. His punishment was for the Ministry to determine, frustrating as it often was, not Harry. She did not want him to carry that stain for the rest of his life.

When she was close enough to see the lump clearly, she gasped and made a little squeaky noise. She fell to her knees and touched the silent figure's face. It was warm, and she thought she could feel a pulse when she pressed her fingers to his neck.

"Harry," she shouted, "what did you do?"

He looked angry and bewildered. "I saved you! He cast a hex at you, I saw him! McGonagall was wrong, I knew it, I-"

Her body shuddered in a sob. "You saw wrong! There was Death Eater behind a tree… he fired something at me, and it cut through my shield. If Lucius hadn't hexed him, he might've killed me." She shook Lucius by his shoulders but got no response. She looked up at Harry through tear-filled eyes. "What did you do!"