(A/N): Hello everyone! Welcome to 2022! Here's hoping we all keep low expectations this year so that 2022 doesn't take the chance to knock us down. I hope you all had nice and safe holidays.
Thanks to ShezzaBoo0233, Abbey Carolyn, AnnoyingGrizzly, NWFairyGodmother, peachx89, Lost O'Fallon Girl, canissicion, 1991, UGAgirl, and Guest for reviewing! It's amazing to hear that so many people are enjoying this story!
Some dialogue has been taken from Arrow S1E16 and E17.
Just a heads up, I'm planning on posting a new fic either this Friday or next. It was originally a one-shot but it ended up being over 40,000 words so I'm splitting it into three chapters, but all chapters are finished and ready to be posted so there will only be a day wait between chapters. It's a Knives Out/Hermione fic. Catzandbookz8 made me do it. It was so much fun to write, I will say that.
Thanks for reading! Enjoy!
Hermione viewed following behind Slade and Oliver as they hiked across the island for several hours as an unexpected and overall boring training exercise. She would admit that it was somewhat difficult to keep her footsteps silent and Oliver had glanced back in her direction several times- and it was very amusing to see his confused expression at seeing nothing to explain the noises he'd heard- but that difficulty wasn't enough to allay her boredom. If the situation hadn't seemed so serious, Hermione would have tried to see how many times she could trip the boy before he became suspicious. Or before Slade made her stop.
Once they made it to the Southwest Bay, Slade and Oliver took cover behind a pile of fallen trees. Hermione perched herself atop a relatively dry tree stump, watching as Slade pulled out his binoculars and focused in on the men moving around below them. She personally didn't know why he bothered because, even with the distance and her limited knowledge, she could tell that the soldiers were working on some kind of rocket or missile launcher. But what in Merlin's name could Fyers be aiming to take down that would require that much firepower?
"Damn," Slade swore, lowering the binoculars.
"What?" Oliver asked. "What is it?"
Slade handed him the binoculars. "You were right, Scylla is a monster. A Russian-made S300 anti-aircraft missile launcher. It can simultaneously track up to 100 targets and whilst engaging at least a dozen."
She automatically glanced up at the sky. Anti-aircraft missile launcher. How big of a plane were they wanting to bring down that whatever they'd used to take down Slade's plane wouldn't work?
"I mean, from here they could shoot down a commercial airliner," Slade continued, not looking away from the launcher. "Or start a war."
Those were two very different extremes. Hermione's fingers absentmindedly tapped against the wood beneath her.
Logic would imply that the target was some kind of plane. After all, the launcher was built for the express purpose of taking down aircrafts. And, as far as Hermione knew, the island was quite a ways away from China's mainland so, unless the launcher was long-ranged, a city or village wasn't Fyers target. She supposed it could also be used to take down a boat passing by, but who would be sailing all the way out here?
A Chinese island and a disgraced army general… a Russian-made missile launcher… who stood to gain the most by pitting these two countries against one another? And was there going to be a calculated attack, or was the end goal random destruction? Hermione thought the answer to that question depended on whether or not it would really take two years to get the launcher to Lian Yu. If it was plausible, then there was no way to know what the desired outcome was without more information. If it wasn't, then it must have only been brought to the island once a specific target was decided. But why send Fyers here so early?
"How far can one of those things go?" Oliver asked.
"One of those missiles has an effective range of up to 2400 kilometers," Slade answered, and Hermione sighed silently. In that case, the target could possibly be somewhere on the mainland.
Turning to look at Oliver, Slade stated, "We're not going anywhere until we figure out what Fyers is planning."
"Wild guess," Oliver started dryly, "he's planning on blowing something up."
Slade rolled his eyes. "Well, one of those could do the job. But this? This is about starting a war."
Hermione narrowed her eyes at the large green machine. Slade had said that the launcher could engage a dozen targets and, from what she could tell, every one of the twelve slots the device had were filled with a red-tipped missile. Closing her eyes, Hermione pulled up a mental map of Asia.
The launcher could hit up to twelve targets at once. And, considering the numerous green cases set up near the machine, it was possible that Fyers could be planning multiple attacks.
The island was positioned between China and South Korea with Russia and North Korea above them.
If the launcher did have a range of 2400 kilometers, then missiles could easily be aimed for Beijing, Seoul, and Pyongyang, but she couldn't think of any major Russian cities in the south that could be a possible target. If even one of those cities were hit, the death toll could be in the millions. And millions more would probably die soon after if war was declared by the country or countries that were hit.
Chinese island… Russian missile launcher… British mercenary…
Standing up, Hermione hurried away from the boys and down towards the camp without even pausing to indicate to Slade that she was leaving.
Slade silently cursed when he felt Hermione slipping away. It was too dangerous for her to be going off on her own considering the situation they found themselves in.
"War with who?" Oliver asked him.
"What does it matter?" he returned, distracted. "We have to stop Fyers before he kills thousands of innocent people."
Depending on Fyers target, Slade would be genuinely surprised if the body count stayed in the thousands.
Oliver shook his head. "There are a ton of soldiers down there. Even if we get through all of them, we can't just steal a whole missile launcher."
He had a point. Slade took his binoculars back from Oliver and peered down into the camp, trying to come up with a plan.
A group of soldiers came marching past his view carrying boxes of explosives.
"Well, who said anything about stealing it?"
There was nothing down there. No papers, no maps, no instructions of any kind. If Hermione hadn't been concerned about her magic getting loose, she would have climbed up onto the launcher to see if the large screen installed on it gave any indication of which direction it was being aimed towards.
Beijing. Seoul. Pyongyang.
Chinese island. Russian missile launcher. British mercenary.
All Hermione could focus on were the worse-case possibilities. Even though she knew better than to make assumptions without knowing all the facts, there was no chance of this situation not ending in the deaths of innocent people, so what was the point in avoiding thinking the worst?
Gods, she was not qualified for this.
"Hey!" she heard an unfortunately familiar voice shouting. "I found an intruder while I was circling the perimeter."
Looking up from the bag she was rifling through on the edge of camp, Hermione saw a masked Oliver pushing Slade- who had his hands hidden behind his back as though cuffed- a few meters in front of him.
The men in the camp stopped what they were doing and rushed over to the duo.
"It's Wilson!" one of them shouted, and Hermione sighed, moving to stand behind a vehicle and out of the line of fire.
"You killed a few of my friends, you son of a bitch," another man spat.
"And I'm gonna kill a few more," she heard Slade rasp back.
Gunshots filled the air and crouching down to look beneath the car, Hermione watched as the armed guards quickly dropped to the ground.
Once the camp was silent, Hermione straightened up and moved to join Slade and Oliver as they surrounded the launcher, Slade pausing for only a moment to grab a box with the word 'Explosives' written in bold red letters across the side of it before following Oliver.
"Will that be enough to destroy it?" Hermione murmured to Slade as he pried the lid off the box and grabbed a handful of green, rectangular containers.
"Place these around the launcher," he ordered Oliver, handing him the stack before creating a pile for himself.
As soon as Oliver was out of earshot, he whispered, "Yes. So make yourself useful and help us set these up."
Hermione grabbed some of the explosive blocks and followed Slade. "You'll be destroying the missiles too," she pointed out, placing the explosives by the wheels the way Slade was. "Will we have enough time to get out of range of the blast?"
"Yes." Then, raising his voice, Slade called, "Move quickly! Their backup will be arriving any second."
The portable radio resting on the rear of the launcher crackled to life. "We're sixty seconds out from the launcher," someone announced.
Slade hissed. "Set your final charges and we'll blow it!"
There was a long pause and then Oliver said, "I think I have a better idea."
"What are you doing?" Slade demanded, as he and Hermione shifted to see Oliver pulling something out of the launcher.
"I'm taking the circuit board. Computers won't work without them and neither will this."
Slade's eyes lit up and he set his things down and grabbed the radio off the launcher. "Leverage," he declared with a wide grin, grabbing Oliver's arm and pulling him after him as they raced out of the camp.
Glancing back over his shoulder, Slade looked at where Hermione was standing with raised brows. You coming?
Hermione turned away and walked over to a truck, pulling herself onto the roof so she'd be out of the way once Fyers and his men swarmed the place.
She would wait to tell him how stupid his plan was until after she'd heard Fyers reaction to the missing circuit board.
They spent almost two hours hiding on the outskirts of the clearing, watching as Fyers and his men circled the area. Slade was thankful that he had brought his binoculars with him- the look on Fyers face when he realized that they'd taken the circuit board was one he'd treasure.
Fyers had made a mistake leaving him alive; he should have killed him when he had the chance.
Once Slade felt that enough time had passed to allow the mercenary to fully realize just how dire his situation was, he handed Oliver the radio he'd grabbed earlier. "Your plan, your call."
Oliver nodded firmly, taking the communication device. Turning the microphone on, he called, "Fyers."
"Mr. Queen," Fyers immediately responded. "I thought I might be hearing from you."
"We have the circuit board," Oliver stated flatly.
The radio was silent for a moment. "You are making a grave mistake. My men are scouring the island for you as we speak."
Slade grinned. The fact that Fyers had resorted to threats so quickly just showed how concerned he was. Lifting his binoculars back up, he watched Fyers scan the woods around the camp.
"And when they find you, they will kill you," the mercenary continued. "Very slowly, I'm afraid."
"If your men kill us, then you'll never find the circuit board," Oliver retorted flatly. "And after that we both know that all you'll be left with is a really ugly piece of modern art."
When Oliver glanced Slade's way, he allowed a proud smile to appear on his face. Seemed the kid was finally learning.
"Then what do you propose?" Fyers asked, tone low and furious. He already knew what Oliver was going to say.
Keeping his eyes on Slade, Oliver responded, "A trade."
"I see. And what do you want in exchange?"
Oliver hesitated and Slade nodded in encouragement. "I want a way off the island."
When Fyers remained silent, Oliver continued, "Simple exchange. You get us a way off the island, and we'll give you the circuit board so that your missile launcher isn't just furniture."
"You're grown up quite a bit, Mr. Queen, I'll give you that." After a long pause, Fyers answered, "I can get you a boat. But I need time."
Silently cheering, Oliver took a moment to compose himself before telling Fyers, "You've got an hour, Fyers, and then you're never-"
Slade snatched the microphone out of his hand, glowering. Seems he spoke too soon. Lifting the microphone to his lips while keeping eye contact with Oliver, he turned it on and stated, "We understand it might take you longer than an hour to get a boat here." Oliver winced, realizing his mistake. "What we mean is you need to move with some dispatch."
"Ah, Wilson," Fyers greeted. "Still in command there, eh? I thought your little pet had staged a coup d'état."
"Just get us the damn boat," Slade snapped.
Hermione rejoined the boys right when they were preparing to head out. Slade didn't give any indication that he noticed her, but she could see his shoulders relaxing slightly as she came up beside him.
Oliver was almost bouncing with excitement as they walked, which confused Hermione. She'd overheard their communication with Fyers and knew that they were trying to barter the circuit board for a way off the island, but he couldn't actually believe that Fyers would risk his mission by letting them leave, could he? Glancing over at Slade, Hermione saw that, while he wasn't exactly jumping for joy the way the boy was, there was still a lightness to his steps.
Taking a deep breath, Hermione considered her options. It said something about her that her first instinct at seeing Oliver and Slade so hopeful was to immediately and mercilessly crush them. Not something nice, but something all the same.
While she thought she would be justified being blunt- they were both acting like fools, after all- she was also aware that she was letting her temper get the better of her. It was just all so frustrating. And concerning. The amount of power resting in Fyers hands was terrifying. And Oliver and Slade seemed more concerned with getting off Lian Yu than stopping Fyers and, while Hermione could understand why they were acting that way, that didn't mean she had to like it.
They stopped briefly in a clearing halfway between the bay and the fuselage in order to hide the circuit board before continuing on. Oliver and Slade intermittently spoke as they walked but Hermione was too deep into her thoughts to truly listen.
Once they got back to the plane and Oliver had fallen asleep, Hermione and Slade moved out into the field.
"What'd you find?" he asked.
"Nothing," she answered flatly. "There were no plans, no notes, no coordinates, nothing at all to indicate what the target is. But with than many missiles on hand, it's clear that there's more than one."
"Damn," Slade swore, running a hand through his hair.
"It's also clear who is likely responsible for this," Hermione continued, glancing upwards at the overcast night sky. "Chinese island that's home to a disgraced military leader, Russian launcher, British mercenary, and the closest land targets are China, Russia, and both North and South Korea. Doesn't take a genius to see that someone in power in America is playing a dangerous game."
Slade's tone was grim. "Seems like it. Not only is Fyers British, but he has been contracted to do work with MI-6 before, though only a few people know about that. He's efficient, intelligent, and, most importantly, discrete. But, as far as I know, he hasn't done any work on this scale."
Hermione huffed. "We already knew that someone was paying him an exorbitant amount of money. And who's to say that he's aware of the full scope of the operation he's found himself in? Perhaps he's been told one thing and, after he's done his job, someone will come in to complete the rest of the project. Fyers is the second level of protection, someone the blame for this can be pinned on should anyone find out Yao Fei is the scapegoat; he's not the brains.
"Even if his involvement in this fiasco isn't uncovered, the U.K. would still be under scrutiny for this attack, though I imagine Japan would likely be the one China and Korea focused their attention on first- provided that China is able to prove to Korea that they weren't the ones attacking them quickly enough, of course. If America is convincing enough that they're too busy fighting the consequences of their own actions in the Middle East, they'll likely be taken off the suspect list after only a bit of scrutiny. While there is still some resentment towards them after their behavior in the past, they've avoided rocking the boat in this area of the world long enough to be granted far too much leniency."
The sound of leaves being crush as Slade shifted his weight pulled Hermione's attention back to him. "We're negotiating a boat in exchange for the circuit board," he told her, expression blank.
Giving him an unimpressed look, she stated, "Yes, I was able to figure that out myself despite the shocking complexity of such a deal. I'm assuming that, once you hand it over, I'll be expected to steal it again?" Not that there was any chance of Fyers following through on his end of the deal. But she'd discuss that with Slade in a few moments and see if they could figure out a way to deal with Fyers plans for double-crossing them.
"That depends. Is there any chance you'll be convinced to get on the boat with us?"
Not this again. "You know, Slade, if you're that eager to die, I believe Fyers would be willing to oblige you. In fact, I truly think he will kill you rather than allow you to sail off to the mainland and warn them of his presence. And he'll likely kill you quicker than Dolohov would."
Slade's empty expression instantly turned frustrated. "Dolohov is not going to kill me-"
"Yes, he will," Hermione retorted, crossing her arms over her chest. "I will hesitantly allow that you might have a chance of fighting back against him should you happen upon him on the island since he wouldn't take you as a serious threat and, provided he hasn't figured out our connection, he won't be trying to incapacitate you. But if he finds us together on what will likely be a small boat far away from the island, he's going to know we're working together. I meant what I said when we first met- you need to get off this island and forget about me. You need to focus on getting home to your son and staying there."
Gritting his teeth, Slade hissed, "You are so fucking stubborn and-"
"I'm stubborn?! I'm not the one insisting on having the same argument over and over again-"
"Maybe the issue isn't that Dolohov was able to get the drop on you but that, for all your talk, you don't actually want to kill him and finally have the chance to live your own life."
Hermione reared back, eyes wide. For just a moment, a hint of regret appeared in Slade's gaze, but then it was gone.
"If you think I'm that far gone, then why waste time training me?" Hermione questioned, voice tight and quiet. "Because that's a lot of trouble to go through for someone you have no faith in."
"Because you could beat Dolohov if you actually tried," Slade snapped. "If you stopped feeling sorry for yourself for five fucking minutes-"
A burst of magic escaped Hermione's iron-tight control, sending Slade sailing back and slamming into a tree. Turning on her heel, Hermione stormed away without bothering to check and make sure the older man was alright.
Slade Wilson could go fuck himself. She was done with him.
Oliver had been giving him worried looks all morning and Slade was about ready to smack the kid. Not only was his concern unwarranted, but it was also entirely unwelcome. Slade was just fine.
"You clear on the plan, kid?" Slade questioned, wanting to make sure that Oliver didn't end up screwing up their second chance off the island.
"Yeah, Slade," the kid sighed, easily switching from concerned to annoyed. "It's not exactly complicated."
"And yet there are so many ways you could screw it up."
Turning to glare at him, Oliver said, "I thought you didn't think I was that dumb kid you first met. Isn't that what you said?"
"I did," Slade agreed easily. "And you're not- you're a different kind of dumb now."
Oliver rolled his eyes and fell silent as they neared the meeting place they'd arranged with Fyers. As they got closer, they could Fyers, Yao Fei, and four armed men heading their way and Slade pulled out his handgun.
"Gentlemen," Fyers greeted once they were standing in front of one another. "Welcome. So happy we were able to reach an accord."
"Oh, good," Slade grunted. "Small talk." It was strange to not feel as though someone was watching him closely from nearby or hovering by his elbow. "Are we going to get on with this?"
"As you wish," the mercenary agreed solemnly. "Straight to business- the circuit board. Where is it?"
"Somewhere safe," Oliver stated. "So, get us to the boat and then we'll tell you where it is."
"And of course, you'll be honest about it' location," Fyers sneered.
Slade smirked, quickly responding before Oliver could stutter out a nervous reply. "Well, I wouldn't be, but this one's got some strange hang up about principles and integrity."
He didn't know why Fyers was bothering with all his posturing. They had the upper hand and he knew it- he had to do what they wanted if he ever hoped to get his precious circuit board back. And Slade actually was planning on making sure the circuit board found its way back to Fyers; that was the only way to ensure that Hermione would be able to find and destroy it.
"I always imagined as much." Fyers expression suddenly shifted and Slade felt an unwelcome twinge of unease. "Which is why I'd like to make a counterproposal. Men!"
Fyers turned and made a gesture with his now-unholstered handgun. Two men walked towards them, dragging a struggling woman between them.
Grimacing, Slade glanced from where the soldiers were forcing the woman to kneel to Yao Fei, who was watching the scene with horror. It would seem that Hermione had been right; the woman must have been brought to ensure Yao Fei's good behavior.
"No," the archer breathed. "NO!"
One of the soldiers slammed the butt of his rifle into the base of Yao Fei's skull before he could move, sending the old man to his knees, and cuffed his hands behind his back.
"You will deliver back to me the circuit board or I will kill Yao Fei's daughter," Fyers told them.
"That's why you wouldn't leave," Oliver breathed, staring down at Yao Fei with wide eyes.
"I can't imagine you want the death of an innocent young woman on your hands," the mercenary continued. "Not with your… principles."
If this had happened a few months earlier, then Slade wouldn't have let anyone's principles get in the way of his objective. Yet here he was now, lifting his gun and releasing the safety as he pointed it at Fyers head.
Hermione was right, he had grown soft. And that pissed him off.
"Let the girl go," he ordered, ignoring the surprised expressions on both Fyers and Oliver's faces.
"No deal?" Fyers asked. "Very well. Kill her!"
Slade pulled out a second gun as Yao Fei started shouting. Before any of the men could move though, the woman turned on her captors, taking the two armed men down with ease. Fyers men stiffened in surprise, and Slade jumped into action, shooting at the Fyers and two of his men while Oliver started fighting a third. Yao Fei managed to knock the last one to the ground and began strangling him with his thighs.
Out of the corner of his eye, Slade could see Fyers moving to intercept Yao Fei's daughter. He started to follow, prepared to take out the mercenary but, before he could even fire off a shot, the woman punched Fyers in the throat, sending him to his knees. She then jumped on his shoulders as he began to stand and, once he was fully straightened up, bent backwards to offset his balance and flipped the mercenary in the air. Once Fyers was flat on his back, she knelt down and repeatedly punched in the face before turning around and racing to her father's side.
"Well, that was unexpected," he commented as she passed him, and she flashed a savage grin his way.
Unfortunately, she hadn't knocked Fyers unconscious and the mercenary had stumbled back to his feet, picking up a rifle as he went.
"Slade!" Oliver shouted in warning, and he automatically ducked down, a hail of bullets just missing him.
More soldiers began swarming the area and Slade grabbed a rifle off the ground as the woman grabbed Yao Fei's arm and dragged him to his feet, returning fire as best he could while the group retreated.
They only made it a handful of meters before Yao Fei cried out in pain as a bullet lodged into his calf.
"Come on!" Oliver shouted, dragging the archer to his feet and pulling him over to a small dip in the ground. They all crouched down there as Slade continued picking off as many men as he could. Unfortunately, the AR didn't have the precision that his sniper rifle did, and he didn't have the best vantage point.
"Get her to safety!" Yao Fei ordered them. "Now!"
Slade instantly jumped into action, dropping the now empty rifle and grabbing the woman's arm even as she frantically shook her head.
"I'll only slow you down," the archer told her.
"No!" she cried, fighting against Slade's hold.
"GO!" her father ordered.
"We've got to go!" Slade snapped at her.
"No!"
It took the combined efforts of Slade and Oliver to pry her away. Even as they raced through the woods, she kept turning her head to look back behind her, a distraught expression on her face.
All Slade could say was that he was glad Hermione hadn't been there to see that shitshow.
Hermione crossed her arms over her chest, thankful that she had remembered to put on a warmer jacket before settling high up in a tree to keep watch over the area. She wished summer would come to the island sooner rather than later, though the hotter weather would bring its own challenges. Honestly, it would have been nice if Dolohov could have stuck her somewhere with mild weather all year round but Hermione supposed she should just be relieved he hadn't trapped her in some frozen tundra given that this was supposed to be her Azkaban, and the prison was a freezing hellhole all year round.
Was relieved the right word? she idly wondered. Or was it too close to 'grateful' or 'thankful'?
Resting her head back against the tree trunk, Hermione closed her eyes from a moment before forcing them open again and tilted her head down again to resume watch. It had been stressful trying to reach the small clearing before Fyers' men came marching through, and the crash from her previous adrenaline rush made Hermione want to do nothing more than sleep. She couldn't though. Not until Slade had returned and she could rub his stupidity in his face.
Thankfully, she didn't have to wait for long.
A thin beam of light cut through the darkness of the forest floor. The smaller, leaner form belonging to Oliver walked under her tree, followed by Slade, who was holding the torch. To Hermione's surprise, she could vaguely make out the shadow of a third figure trailing in Slade's footsteps. She wondered who had joined them.
Oliver knelt down beside a tree stump, plunging his hand into its hollowed innards. After a moment, he straightened and slowly turned around.
"Slade," he called, voice thin. "The circuit board's gone."
No one moved for a moment, then Slade raced forward and shoved Oliver out of the way to check for himself.
As Oliver regained his footing, his torch landed on the third figure, and Hermione was shocked to see that it was the girl Fyers had had brought to the island weeks ago.
"Damn," Slade swore. "Fyers played us. While he was screwing us around, his men were combing the woods for it."
Hermione rolled his eyes. She had thought Slade was a rather intelligent person, but she was clearly mistaken because no smart person could be so incredibly stupid.
Grabbing Oliver's collar, Slade continued, "Now his missile launcher is fully operational."
"And he was never going to let us off the island," Oliver snapped, jerking away. "I get it!"
"Of course he wasn't going to help you!" the woman exclaimed in lightly accented English. "He couldn't chance you telling the mainland of what he had planned."
"She speaks English," Oliver said dumbly, and Hermione wanted to bang her head against the tree trunk because honestly.
Regaining what little wits he had, Oliver told her, "Yeah, well, guess what? Neither one of us have any idea what his plans are."
The woman looked away, running a hand through her hair as she stood silently. Turning back to the men, she admitted, "I do."
Carefully shifting herself so that she was seated on the branch with her legs dangling over the side facing where Slade and the others were talking, Hermione let the hood of the Invisibility Cloak fall back so it hung around her shoulders. Letting her legs swing idly back and forth, she waited for Slade to notice her.
Almost as soon as she was settled into her new position, Slade's eyes flicked upwards.
Despite being unsure of whether or not there was enough light for Slade to be able to see her expression, Hermione couldn't help smirking down at him. Slipping one hand out of the folds of the cloak, she held up a small, square object.
Looking for this, love?
The way his eyes widened and his mouth dropped open a bit in shock was incredibly gratifying to Hermione.
Just because he was a fool didn't mean that she was- despite what he apparently thought of her.
Quickly looking away before anyone noticed his distraction, Slade told Oliver and the woman that they needed to get out of there in case Fyers sent any men to the area in search of them. Hermione watched them disappear into the blackness of the forest but didn't move, content to do nothing more than pull the cloak back over her head and stare down blankly at where her legs were hidden.
Maybe the issue isn't the Dolohov was able to get the drop on you but that, for all your talk, you don't actually want to kill him and finally have the chance to live your own life.
Logically, Hermione knew that Slade couldn't possibly understand what it was like to live with the ever-present fear of Dolohov. He couldn't know the horror of finding her parents bodies and reading the medical report so that she could understand in excruciating detail just how they had suffered. And he certainly couldn't comprehend the absolute terror of Dolohov appearing out of nowhere, of dueling him and losing, losing just as she had all those years in the Department of Mysteries.
Hermione Granger was talented and clever and had refused to let her battle-instincts go lax just because the war was over. She had earned the title of the most gifted and talented of her generation. And she had lost.
If she wanted to defeat Dolohov then she had to become better than him and, if she couldn't be better than him when it came to dueling with wands, then she would have to become better than him some other way. And that was what she had been trying to do when Slade had effectively called her a coward.
Despite being able to logically understand why he'd said what he'd said, it still hurt. He'd hurt her, and Hermione realized that she must have started becoming attached to Slade despite knowing how foolish it would be to do so. But now that she realized what was happening, she was resolved to do better. So, she would wait for Slade to come back to the clearing, chuck the circuit board at his stupid face, and then go back to her life of solitude and hope that he was able to find a way to deal with Fyers because it wasn't her business any longer.
After an hour or so, Hermione took off the cloak and climbed down the tree. Slade should be back soon, and she didn't want to prolong this encounter.
Minutes later, Slade stepped through the trees, torch aimed at the ground.
"'Be strong, saith my heart'," Hermione stated flatly.
"'I am a soldier; I have seen far worse than this'," Slade murmured.
Nodding, she pulled the circuit board from her pocket. "Seems like your plan had a few flaws to it after all." Slade glanced between her face and the circuit board with a shuttered expression. "I noticed Fyers' men combing the area earlier, so I came here to retrieve this," she gave the board a small shake, "and then waited for you fools to return. Word of warning, I may have accidentally fried this. It's a small, delicate piece of technology and I have no idea how sensitive it is to my magic. Probably for the best though."
When he continued to stand silently, Hermione gave an exasperated huff and threw it at Slade, who caught it with one hand. "If that's all, then I'll be going. I have better things to do tonight then hang around here waiting to see if you've recovered enough from your wounded ego to be capable of stringing two words together."
Turning on her heel, Hermione started to march away. After only two steps, Slade's hand clamped down on her arm and spun her around to face him again.
Before she could say anything, two broad hands were cupping her cheeks, tilting her face upwards, and Slade's lips slammed against hers.
Please leave a review on your way out!