Chapter 50 - A Shift in the Tide

Even at the best of times, Hermione wouldn't have ever wanted to see Fenrir Greyback again. He was terrifying in the extreme, his human form no longer fully human, and his wild lust for flesh and blood all too clear as he fixed his eyes on all of them—on her in particular.

"Been waiting a long time to get a taste of you, girl," he chuckled, coming to a stop a few feet away from the group, all of whom had their wands drawn and ready. "Seems my patience is about to be rewarded."

"You stay away from her!" Ron exclaimed fiercely, taking a step forward in front of Hermione.

Greyback ignored him, his eyes locked on Hermione. "I like girls," he mused. "They taste so much sweeter. Just now, I had me a tasty girl, round and juicy. Yellow hair, irritating scream. Good meat." He licked his lips, causing everyone except the Dementors to shudder. "She was the main course, but I've got more than enough room for you as dessert."

At this point, Hermione wasn't sure who was more terrifying: Greyback or the dozen Dementors who accompanied him. She noticed Harry keeping his eyes on the latter, whereas Luna and Neville were taking in everything and standing their ground. As for Ron, he looked ready to face Greyback directly and hang the consequences. As for her, she was the furthest away from their enemy at this point, and had taken over the task of levitating Draco while she was at it. Therefore, she was also in the best position to hear his breathing which, to her panic, was getting shallower and shallower as time passed.

If she didn't help her friends face off against their enemy now, then they might very possibly die; however, if she didn't get Draco to Madame Pomfrey as soon as possible, then he definitely would.

Never in her life would she ever have wanted to make the choice the between them. She couldn't, and yet...

"Go, Hermione," Harry said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Now wasn't the time to hesitate. "I'm sorry," Hermione said to all of them and then, before Greyback or any of the Dementors could give chase, she took off running towards the infirmary, Draco levitating alongside her.

And indeed, Greyback would have run after her, except that the moment she left all four of her friends simultaneously summoned their patronuses, after which Ron cast a particularly nasty hex at Greyback.

The werewolf was fast though, and dodged just about every spell Ron could think to throw at him. He had picked out the Weasley as his main opponent, and so while the other three friends were struggling to keep twelve attacking Dementors at bay, Ron found himself facing the crazed werewolf alone. Chuckling darkly, Greyback lunged for Ron at close range, trying to wound him.

Ron was guided by pure instinct to keep out of the range of the werewolf's claws, knowing that one scratch would not only be the end of him but that, even if he survived, he would only suffer the same fate of becoming a werewolf himself. Ron Weasley was terrified, but a strong sense of survival kept him going, as well as building anger as Greyback continued to taunt him, trying to anger him into making a mistake.

"Saw your sister on my way here. Pretty redhead, isn't she?" he said with a grin. "Tried to protect that girl I took down, the one she called 'Lavender'. Too bad she was too slow, heh heh."

Ron stilled for a moment, barely dodging out of the way as Greyback swiped for his head. Lavender. The girl he had once dated and thought he loved...

"What's the matter, boy?" Greyback snarled as his claws connected with the wall behind Ron. Pulling back, he shook his hand to clear away the ache of the impact. "Did I hit a nerve? Don't like me talking about your sweet sister?"

Suddenly, just as he was about to lunge again, a hex hit him from the side, and Ron looked on, stunned, as Greyback convulsed in pain on the ground, barely holding in his screams.

Turning, Ron's eyes widened as he saw that it was Harry who had cast the spell, and who was looking down at Greyback with anger in his eyes. "If he doesn't mind, I do!" he yelled, increasing the energy he put into the curse.

Ron looked behind and above Harry, where two Dementors were hovering. They weren't making any moves to attack Harry though, but were watching with something like...interest. That couldn't be any good.

"Harry, stop it!" Ron yelled, suddenly realizing what it was the Dementors were attracted to: the dark energy radiating out from Harry, something akin to what Voldemort himself had. "Stop! This isn't right!"

As if to prove that, Harry stag, which until now had been right alongside Luna and Neville's patronuses, vanished, and five other Dementors swooped down towards them.

Harry broke off casting the curse, and turned around barely in time to send a spell at the Dementors attacking him. Of course, this didn't work though, as a patronus charm was more or less the only thing that could repel Dementors.

Acting once again on instinct, Ron shoved Harry aside, only to be met with the Dementor's kiss himself.

"Ron!" Harry, Neville, and Luna called out at the same time.

"Expecto patronum!"

Suddenly, from down the hall, coming at a burst of light, two patronuses, both wolves, came racing towards them. With large howls, together they ran after all the present Dementors, starting with the one hovering over Ron. With inhuman sounds such as only Dementors could make, they all scattered, seeming to be unable to get away fast enough. The wolves were ruthless, chasing down every one until not a single Dementor was left.

It was Remus Lupin and Tonks who now approached them, their wands drawn as they scanned the empty corridor.

"Where's their leader?" Tonks demanded.

For, as the friends could now observe, somewhere inbetween when Harry had stopped cursing him and the patronuses had arrived, Greyback had made good his escape, sensing that he was about to be outnumbered. There was no telling where he had gone now.

"Thank Merlin you're here!" Ron exclaimed, catching his breath and sitting up weakly. He was still very much alive, but the Dementor's Kiss had drained a good portion of his energy. Neville and Luna worked together to support him, while Harry hurriedly gathered news from Lupin and Tonks as they made their way to the infirmary after Hermione.

Once they arrived there, they quickly located Draco, who even now was being treated by Madame Pomfrey, though his condition was far from stable.

Hermione, however, was nowhere to be seen.

Meanwhile, a few minutes before in the infirmary...

Hermione wasn't sure even now that she had made the right decision in leaving her friends behind and not fighting with them. Harry had told her to go, but she also hadn't hesitated, hadn't questioned it, which meant that to leave with Draco had been her intention from the start. He was her priority, even above the safety of her dearest friends, especially Harry who was like family to her. It felt unforgiveable, and although Hermione shouldn't dwell on it, she couldn't seem to help herself. She wasn't ashamed, per se, at her decision, but she did feel guilty.

Everyone's lives mattered, but there was no way that she could save them all. Already, Greyback had confirmed that had least one person, one of their classmates had died at his hand.

Hermione clenched her wand tightly in her right hand. He was going to pay. They all were, once this was over.

Once she had brought Draco into the infirmary, to her relief, Madame Pomfrey hadn't questioned tending to him. He was a student first and foremost so, no matter what he had done, she as a healing witch would do all that she could to help him. Hermione had hurriedly explained the situation, after which Madame Pomfrey's first priority was stabilizing Draco's condition. She worked in a fervor, going back and forth between her storeroom and the main infirmary, all the while asking Hermione what she could tell her of other staff and students that might be injured.

"I would be down there myself, fighting alongside them, if only Professor McGonagall hadn't insisted that I remain here," she exclaimed, looking as frustrated as Hermione felt. Her movements were deft and sure though, which was more than Hermione could have said about her own attempts at healing Draco. Seeing him hurt that way earlier, and being unable to stop it, had made her feel more useless than she ever had before, and that was saying something. Draco had sacrificed himself to help them destroy the horcrux, there was no other way to say it, and she had just stood there and let him.

And don't fool yourself, Hermione Granger: he did it for you. More than anything, he did it for you, she thought, absolutely certain.

If—no, when Draco woke up, she would never again let him think or feel that he wasn't good enough for her, that he didn't deserve her. After this, they were going to stay together and face the world, whatever might lie ahead.

Just please...PLEASE wake up, Draco, she thought, looking down at his ashen face.

"Miss Granger, there is nothing you can do here now," Madame Pomfrey stated, sensing Hermione's restlessness. "You should go and help the others. I promise, I will take care of Mr. Malfoy and do what I can for him."

Hermione nodded, though the last thing she wanted to do was leave him. It felt...like if she let him out of her sight for even a moment, the next thing she knew when she came back, he would be gone. The thought was more than she could bear, and for a moment it felt like she was coming apart.

As if to remind her of the situation at hand though, yet again the call of dragons echoed loudly from outside, bringing her back to the current state of things.

The battle had just begun and was far from over—and while her classmates and friends were out there fighting for their lives, she couldn't be wasting time away in here, no matter how much she wanted to. They had one horcrux left, just one, and once they destroyed it, it would all be over and only Voldemort himself would be left.

She had to go.

Careful not to interrupt Madame Pomfrey while she worked, Hermione leaned over Draco and brushed some of his hair out of his eyes.

"I'll be back. I promise," she whispered.

Then, not daring to turn around for fear that her resolve would leave her altogether, Hermione fled the infirmary, heading directly back to where her friends were engaged in battle.

No sooner had she turned the corner to sprint down the stairs to their aid though, when suddenly she heard one of the portraits screaming. "WATCH OUT!"

Hermione didn't have time so turn and see what the danger was before it tackled her, forcing her down the flight of marble stairs and landing atop her, knocking the breath from her lungs and bruising her in Merlin knew how many places. She managed to keep a grip on her wand, but it was more or less useless when her hand was jammed under Greyback's strong grip.

He loomed over her, his expression one of hunger and lust. "I've been waiting a long time for this," he breathed, licking his lips.

Much to Hermione's horror and confusion, Greyback didn't devour her there and then. Actually, he seemed to want to take his time with her, and for that purpose, he didn't do anything right away out there in the open.

The first thing he did was knock Hermione's wand away before clamping his hand over her mouth so that she couldn't scream for help. With his other arm, he held her against his chest and ran away from the direction where Hermione's friends were, his speed inhuman and actually bringing tears to Hermione's eyes as they whooshed down the hall. He held Hermione so tightly that he was actually crushing her ribs, one of which Hermione could've sworn was already broken from her fall down the stairs. She tasted blood in her mouth from where she had bit her tongue to keep from screaming uselessly (which would only have given Greyback pleasure), and tears were already running down her face and onto Greyback's hand from how badly it hurt.

He seemed fully conscious of the pain he was giving her though, and grinned, fondling her breast with his hand and enjoying the muffled scream that Hermione finally did emit at having her person so violated. Chuckling, he whispered a few more dirty words in her ear, all of which Hermione fought to ignore.

She was going to die, she realized, but not before she was brutalized first, in whatever ways Greyback might please. She had no idea why he should have locked onto her as his preferred target from the start, but that hardly mattered anymore: she was powerless and she was doomed.

From the back of her mind, as soon as she could think clearly, she noticed that despite moving swiftly, Greyback was also taking pains to avoid being seen by anybody. When he heard sounds, either from friend or foe, he immediately moved in the opposite direction, and always heading downwards. It was then that Hermione realized that he was heading towards the dungeons, which was the least likely place that anyone would think to look for her. As a relatively secure place in the castle, it was also one of the least likely places that a death eater should have been able to access right now.

They wouldn't even find her body until it was all over.

Trying to keep in focus though, Hermione scrambled for spells that she had memorized, anything that could be done nonverbally and without a wand, and yet was effective enough for her uses. Unfortunately though, much of a wizard's power came from their wand, and so without it, even the most skilled wizards could only do the simplest things—and it took very strong magic to take on a werewolf. So now, at this point, unless a miracle somehow occurred and someone intercepted Greyback first, there was no way that Hermione could get out of this alive.

At that point, she would even have taken being intercepted by Voldemort himself, since chances were that the dark wizard would kill her without a second thought and at least make it quick.

The closer they got to the dungeons though, the more Hermione's clever brain searched for ideas, since anything at this point was better than just letting herself be killed. Physically, she was no match for Greyback, that was certain, and in terms of magic she was also very limited. There was, she realized, one thing she could still do, something that, though she wasn't very good at it, she did know thanks to training with Draco earlier last year:

Legilimency. Communicating via the mind.

In other words, if she sent out a strong though and anyone, anyone nearby heard her, they might be able to help.

Right now, if Hermione guessed correctly as Greyback jogged through the hallways with her in tow, they were probably beneath the Great Hall. It was now or never.

Someone! Help! Greyback...kill...help...now!

It was harder to keep focused on such an advanced form of magic, especially when so many wild emotions and a continuous sensation of pain was flooding her consciousness, so this was really the best that Hermione could do. She repeated the words over and over again, trying to calm herself down even as she sensed through closed eyes that their surroundings were growing darker and darker as they descended into the dungeons. Greyback might also have whispered something foul in her ear, but Hermione fought not to listen, needing everything she had to focus.

Help! Now! Greyback...kill...Hermione...me...please!

Then, in a shocking moment that almost had her thinking that she imagined it, Hermione heard a voice not her own in her mind, responding to her plea.

Where are you?

Hermione didn't think of whether she recognized the voice or not, only that it was a calm, assured voice, someone who clearly wasn't a struggling legilimens such as herself. Trying to compose herself out of her shock, Hermione replied, Dungeons. Below...Great Hall. Hurry.

The voice didn't say anything more and for a moment of pure despair, Hermione thought that for sure she must've lost her sanity somewhere along the way.

No one was coming to help her, no one knew where she was.

Grunting, Greyback finally let go of her as they reached a dark, closed off space, unceremoniously dropping her and eliciting a groan of pain as Hermione landed on her damaged rib. He pulled her up by her hair, and though Hermione weakly tried to push him away from her, it was a useless effort.

In a burst of panic, Hermione actually tried a nonverbal hex using only her hands alone, but all she managed to do was stun Greyback and send him cascading away from her. The ten seconds or so that that action bought her was only enough for her to struggle to her feet, though she needed to brace herself against the nearby wall and the way that she held her arm to her ribs made it clear that she was injured. It was only by Greyback's sadistic need to stage a drawn-out torture session that she was still alive at all.

Snarling, he approached her slowly, almost theatrically. "Nice try, girl, getting me off my guard, but it won't work again. Your time's run out."

Breathing heavily, Hermione prepared to try hexing him again. Stuns weren't much, but every second of time that she bought herself was a step closer to freedom. No doubt, Greyback was disoriented and had tried his luck guessing in which direction to go down there; unlike him, Hermione knew the castle layout and therefore knew the closest place where she might find a passageway to get her back upstairs. As soon as she was among other witches and wizards, anyone who might help her, she would be better off than to remain down here alone with him and wait for a person who might or might not have actually responded to her psychic call.

Merlin, just don't let him get too close, she thought, cautioning herself.

Greyback wasn't a patient sort though, and feinted to his left before lunging and catching Hermione off-guard. She shot the hex at him too soon, missing entirely, and next thing she knew, Greyback had one of his hands around her throat, the other raised to attack. Leaning forward, he drew out his tongue and licked her cheek. Hermione shuddered in disgust and fear, clawing at his hand as he began to squeeze her throat.

"Sweet dreams, girl," he murmured, and then raised his claws to strike.

Meanwhile, outside the castle...

His army had mobilized and breached the castle. They had gotten past the pathetic barriers and defenses put up by the Hogwarts staff and the Member of the order of the Phoenix, and now he had ordered even the dragons and Dementors to start attacking. He had sent out a message, ordering that they hand over Potter to him. He was inside there, that much was certain, and he had just gotten through destroying not one, but two horcruxes.

And one of those should never have been found, he reflected. But then, Potter and his friends had been planning this for so long, that it was more than mere luck that they had found even the most elusive of horcruxes in the Room of Requirement, never mind finding ways to destroy it. And that blasted Sword of Gryffindor—if only he hadn't lost track of it earlier, then Potter and his friends wouldn't have any weapon to use against him.

He was invincible, and he was immortal.

As if to remind him of the lie in both those statements, it was now that Nagini chose to slither up to him, curling around his arm and coming up to his neck, where she could whisper in his hear. Her hisses, which no one except he could understand, communicated that everything was in motion and that everything was going exactly as planned. There were no traitors in their midst, no hesitation in their attacks. Even the death eaters who had yet to die that day would do so without question.

Without question, hmm...?

Voldemort sometimes wondered about that.

There were others, those closest to him, that he purposely kept out of the fray. He couldn't have the Lestranges endangered just yet, and of course the Malfoys were a liability, given that their son was likely still inside, having to pretend to fight on the side of his school, when really...

But then Nagini whispered something to him that changed things, that changed his entire perception. Not according to plan, it hadn't been Draco who let in the first death eaters through the vanishing cabinet in the Room of Requirement, but Rudolphus Lestrange who had first broken through the barrier after discovering a secret passageway into Hogwarts from Hogsmeade.

Hmm, so the boy didn't follow orders, Voldemort thought. Where is he?

As far as he knew though, Draco might well be dead by now, which didn't much concern him because the Malfoys were more or less pawns in terms of their importance to him now. They would grieve their son, of course, but to linger too long over such attachments was weakness.

Weakness. One thing that the Dark Lord had never known about until this moment, when he very life waited with him now in the Shrieking Shack, watching the battle from afar. Him...and Nagini. They were all that was left of his precious soul—and he didn't know whether it was possible to create any more horcruxes to lengthen his life further.

Glancing down at the Elder Wand, the most powerful wand in the world that he now held in his hand, Voldemort reflected that with such a wand, by now he surely must have been able to create another horcrux if he so chose. But the wand, stubborn in the extreme, did not respond to him as it should have. It did not obey him, and Voldemort had concluded not too long ago that he wasn't its true master. Everyone, Severus in particular, had assured him that such was the case, and yet...

Severus. Therein lay the problem, didn't it?—and the solution.

"Nagini," Voldemort crooned, bringing the snake to attention. "Bring Severus to me."

Meanwhile, back in the dungeons...

The strike that she waited for never came. Instead, shocking her in how sudden it was, Greyback let go of her and Hermione collapsed on the ground, coughing loudly as she tried to regain her breath again. Someone had thrown a hex at him to get him away from her, and now the werewolf stood several feet away, snarling and turning to face his new opponent.

Hermione didn't see who had come to her aid as she fought to get air into her lungs, past the burning pain in her throat, only she knew that someone had. In the next moment though, it was too late to wonder anything as she heard a cool, calm voice say the last words that she would've expected to hear:

"Avada kedavra."

Greyback didn't even scream. The curse was so sudden and happened instantly, so that even Hermione, turning around to catch sight of what was happening, didn't have time to react to it.

One second Greyback was alive, and then suddenly he was dead.

And while the werewolf was at the receiving end of such a deadly curse, it was the spell caster whom Hermione now knew to fear—for it was none other then Severus Snape who now stood before her.

Hermione tried to say something, maybe to ask if he meant to kill her next, but all that came out of her throat was a dry rasp. She struggled to stand, move away from him, but Snape was much faster than that as he strode over to her.

"Hold still," he growled in a low voice, his wand pointed at her as he reached her side.

Hermione did as he said, too afraid to disobey. He had killed Greyback right before her eyes, without hesitation, without flinching; she had no doubt that he could do the same to her.

What he said next was far from being a hex but instead, before her very eyes, appeared to be a healing spell, which she felt both in her throat and down to the broken ribs in her torso. Hermione strained to hear the words, catching what he was saying in a low, almost soothing way.

"Vulnera sanentur. Vulnera sanentur."

It wasn't a spell that she could remember studying before, but it was certainly effective in healing her injuries. With his other hand, she felt Severus pressing a potion vial into her hands which, glancing down, she saw was a common potion for pain relief and energy.

Not even bothering to question whether it might not be poison—because, after all, if he wanted to get rid of her he could have just used a spell and killed her by now instead of healing her—Hermione uncorked it and gulped the potion down, recognizing its familiar taste after years of needing it herself to tend to her injuries. After a few minutes, during which Severus seemed to have healed almost all her injuries and Hermione had regained much of her energy and no longer felt pain, she finally turned to look at him, both conflicted and wary.

"Professor, what are—"

"No time to explain, Granger," he said, stiffly standing up again and taking a step back. "You'd do best to forget that I was ever here."

"But why did—"

"You asked for help, Granger," Snape snapped, cutting her short. "If I hadn't responded, you would be dead now."

While Hermione didn't doubt that, from his being a powerful legilimens to his being able to respond quickly, that wasn't really the issue at the moment. "But why, professor?" she asked. "Y-you murdered Dumbledore, you're a death eater, you—"

"We all do things we don't want to do, Granger. For the greater good," Snape said. Then, casting her a haunted look that reminded her much too much of how Draco looked, he added, "Make sure you get out of this alive, once you destroy the last one. All of you, especially Potter."

And then, not giving her a chance to say anything more, the dark wizard disapparated, leaving Hermione alone and confounded.

Her mind was reeling, but there was no doubt for what had just happened: Professor Snape had saved her life, and had as good as admitted that he knew about horcruxes. He knew. Unlike Bellatrix or any other one of Voldemort's followers, he knew. And he had helped her.

Merlin, could it be that all this time...?

The more Hermione thought about it, the more certain things from before started to make sense. The Sword of Gryffindor in the Forest of Dean, when Bellatrix had been convinced that it was supposed to be in her vault, and...

...Draco's list. It was more than just a coincidence that things like the sheath and unicorn blood were on that list, wasn't it? So Snape, this entire time...

Another dragon roar sounded, as if to remind Hermione that now was not the time to start figuring everything out. Right now, she had to act, and first things first, she had to get her wand.

Back on the second floor, near the infirmary where Greyback had knocked it out of her hand.

If it was still there, that is.

Turning and surprised at how well she felt thanks to Snape's ministrations, Hermione sprinted away from the dungeons, and the body of the werewolf who had terrorized and killed countless wizards throughout his lifetime.

A/N: Whew, and we are finished! I hope everyone appreciates how I decided not to do a cliffhanger ending for this chapter, though believe me when I say that I really wanted to, several times. (And I think you'll notice what those parts are in this chapter.) But anyway, I decided to be nice and give more or less a neutral ending to a chapter, so consider that fanservice, if you'd like.

That being said, I hope you liked the contents of this chapter, even though our poor Draco has been unconscious throughout all of it. I tried to fill in with as much action as I could, but I think that there are still some key developments that could place without our dear Malfoy present, so yes, tons of good things here!

Fans of the original Harry Potter books will already know what I'm building up to anyway within the next 1-2 chapters, so be prepared for that. (Dun dun dun!) Oh, and I promise that we'll have Draco back in the next chapter, wait and see!

Please review, follow, and favourite to show your support for this story! Let's keep it going strong and many thanks once again to everyone who is posting their reviews! I read and appreciate each and every one of them, so please keep them coming!