Chapter 21
Loving and being loved was equally as terrifying a prospect as never believing you might find love again. It was all consuming. However, it created other notions besides lightness, tenderness, and affection; loving bred fear. In her line of work, fear was what got people killed. Fear was the culprit that caused you not to take that step when you really needed to move, it caused your mind to blank, and made you so much more protective of yourself than you would have been if you had nothing and no one. Ultimately, in her perspective, sometimes love could make you weak.
"I need you to return to Hogwarts." Hands on her hips gripped with such strength, she was certain she would bruise. The woman in her arms kissed the base of her neck, the breath against her skin uneven.
"Promise me you will be fine and I will gladly leave." Hermione's eyes cast themselves at the ceiling, fighting back the tears that threatened to roll down her cheeks.
"I promise you, Minerva… I will be fine." Whether true or lie, it didn't matter. She needed to get the woman out of the Inn and back to the castle. She needed space and time to prepare, the morning sun was already creeping through the pulled curtains, casting thin lines of light across the bed and the two figures laying there. Fully clothed, they held on through the night. Sex hadn't even been a passing thought. For so long, Hermione had been neglected by affection, unable to allow herself to hold or be held firmly. She'd almost forgotten what it felt like to be safely tucked away in someone else's arms. If there was going to be a finale, this was certainly it.
"Communicate with me as soon as you can, have someone reach me, when your circumstance is updated." Pulling away, only just, Minerva hadn't the opportunity to see Hermione adjust her features, schooling her expression, so all that played upon her visage was serene understanding.
"I will make sure you aren't kept in the dark."
No one could say what the upcoming days would hold for their immediate future. When she reached Kircudbright that night before, she went directly to a safe house a few miles out of town. An austere looking building stood among trees, it's narrow peaks of poorly shingled roof aimed skywards. With the thick of woods surrounding that house, trees reaching higher than its tallest points, it could have so easily been missed if one didn't know where to go. She was met in the doorway by a man who she knew, who she had worked with for a few years. He was mousy, slender, and jittered as though he had drunk too many cups of strong tea. He always looked as though the Muggle clothes he wore were two sizes too big for his frame, but one thing she knew for certain, he was an expert regarding complex illusion charms.
Upon her arrival, she was ushered into the living area, where sat five other Auror's, whom stood upon ceremony upon her entry. Gazing around the place made her feel grimy just by proximity. Old floral patterned wallpaper, discoloured by time, curled off the walls in places. Dust blanketed surfaces, staines showed clearly on the burnt orange rug, and Hermione felt as though it could give the Shrieking Shack a run for its money.
Once introductions had settled and all hands were shaken, they charged into conversation about the matter at hand and why they had gathered. Documents were passed around and they all leafed through pages to better understand the situation, only to discover it wasn't an object they were looking for, rather a person - a person who, by the intel received, was a major organizer of the most recent attacks, who had plans to broaden the scale and range of attacks with the Ministry, Diagon Alley, Hogsmeade, and Hogwarts as future targets. It wasn't potential if, but appeared to be a matter of when.
Yerrick Nott was the son of a prolific Death Eater. He was one of the very few left uncaptured, a high commander of sorts, and the last piece that, Kingsley seemed to believe, had the power to disband the entire regime if defeated. Because of his Pure Blood status and the fact that strong family ties bound his lineage to Voldemort, he was able to amass a rather large amount of followers. Over the years, as these followers were either killed or imprisoned, they lessened over time. It was the perfect opportunity to take him down, along with anyone else willing to fight against them.
To make matters worse, it appeared as though there was a leakage of information from the Ministry to this outlaw faction. So much information had harsh black lines drawn over it to hide what had been written there. There was no lead into who the mole was, or from what department, but all concurred it had to be their own. With such high profile attacks being the priority, the clean sweep was required. Whoever it was had to be stopped, not questioned.
The group moved on from their safe house on foot after a few days of heated discussion and debate, their planning growing increasingly more defensive. Voices rose in frustration and lowered in reluctant acceptance around a small square table from sun up until sun down. There was little doubt that all of them were growing more apprehensive with each passing hour. Gwen, a tall, slender woman who Hermione had met in passing many times, had a reputation for being loud and uncharacteristically abrasive, with regard to her humor, seemed to lose her sharp tongue. The mousy man, Geoffry, appeared like his vibrating might cause his body to fall apart at any given moment. The peace of country roads in any other environment would have been relaxing, despite the cold that loomed. Hermione and her assigned partner - Lewis, a rather tankish, older gentleman with a brush moustache and thinning hair -, didn't exchange many words. Despite his appearance being akin to that of an old, iratible oxen, even he appeared to pale over time. All of them could feel it, something wasn't sitting quite right. Like a gut punch, even with all the wide open space of the country, the air was sucked right out of it with a vacuum.
"Looks like it's a few miles from here, we should set up camp for the night and consider the timing." Gwen announced as she began folding up the map, her slight hand gesturing to the skirting of the wood along the side of the road. Trees on the one side, clear open field on the other, it made the choosing for cover quite easy.
"Magnificent." Hermione heard Lewis mutter. The group made their way down from the road to lowered ground, foliage reaching up their calves until sticks and low brush caught their ankles. With bags in hand they journeyed a short way in, clearing low hanging branches in a small area to begin the set up of their communal tent. Hardly a bug, no mosquitos to drain them dry, as winter was coming and most winged wildlife began to succumb to hybernation. Throughout the days walking, Hermione had found herself watching the line of the sun. Now it was growing dark and the night began to fall, which only meant one more day down until the inevitable end.
The men of the group, as useful as they were, settled into setting up their lodging. Brief memories of the Quidditch World Cup entered into Hermione's mind. The good memories, at least… When things were almost simpler. The Good people were good… The Bad people were bad. There was a line. That line blurred with age until she had begun to see the good and bad in everyone. Some scales tipped a little more one way or the other. And when the tent was erected, and Gwendolyn and herself could finally lower their wands from the placing of spells and wards, they joined their fellows.
Silence blanketed the small party of people as they climbed down into their comfort quarters. None of them felt all too comforted by the concern of discovery. Hermione had almost grown used to the space again, much like her, Harry's, and Ron's tent when they were traveling for horcruxes, there were rooms divided by canvas walls, enough beds that they needn't share, a tiny kitchen, and one large square shaped room in the middle with a modest table. It was plain and beige. But what more could they have asked?
"Well, I'm going to have a bloody drink and pretend that this is all well and normal for a moment if we're shooting off tonight." Brandon, a young Auror with a particularly awkward attitude, stated while throwing his bag down by the entrance.
"Aye, here." Her partner agreed, turning his large head briefly to eye Hermione who made her way to their stationed room.
"I don't drink." She told him, her hand parting their rooms partition so she could toss her duffel on her bed.
"That's not what I heard." A voice pierced her ears. Dropping herself down in a seat at the table, Gwen laid down her wand and motioned for a glass of scotch. The other men joined her while Hermione cleared her throat, uncomfortably.
"And what exactly did you hear?" The brunette asked, her features darkening. She returned to the lounging and dining area, seating herself down but pushing enough away from the table that she could cross her leg over her other and settle her hands in her lap, folded. For a short moment, the other woman glanced over her, a slight curl playing at the corner of her lips before she tipped her glass back and drained it like a shot.
"What I had heard was," The grey eyed woman replied, her features twisting a bit from the burn. "Was that you were fired for being an alcoholic and that you took up post at Hogwarts… The new teacher." Five other pairs of eyes turned their sights upon Hermione, waiting for an explosion, maybe… But the woman only shifted and folded her arms over her chest, relaxedly. The two women peered at one another.
"I was never formally fired, Miss. Ferguson… But yes, I do now teach at Hogwarts and tend to Ministry research." Eyes bounced back to aim their attention upon Gwen to gauge response, but the woman across the table from Hermione just chuckled and shook her head.
"Still, that sounds as good as bein' sacked to me."
"Well, w-w-weren't you s-sacked too?" Geoffry asked, his squeaky voice quivering. He was awarded a sharp glance. Hermione raised a brow.
"Of course, I was…"
"As was I." Lewis ventured to say, and then one by one either a nod or here here was given. Suspicion began to well in Hermione's chest.
"But, at the end of the day, I'd still take a hex for my men… women… and country if it stopped these bleeding attacks from causing more pain." Lewis stated, garnering agreeance.
"I wasn't s-s-sacked…" Geoffry said quietly as he looked down into his barely touched drink of liquor.
"Good for you, boy." Gwen said, her voice bland as she reached for the bottle. "I'd say, we may as well not wait for the grass to grow, we may as well head out by three and have the job done by seven."
"In the wee hours of morning, Gwen… You never sleep," A man Hermione knew by the name of Herold mumbled miserably. His sad looking eyes cast themselves down at his pocket watch. "It's getting close to ten now, three in the morn… Gives us five hours to enjoy the rest of our lives."
"Looks that way." Gwen chortled, although her expression didn't quite match the sound rising in her throat. Gruffly, the man to her left muttered something indistinguishable and shook his head.
"Better get some sleep if you want it, Granger." Lewis clapped her on the shoulder after setting his empty glass down, then rose from his chair to wander into their room and to his own bed.
"Yes, Granger… Beauty sleep, don't want to die ugly, do you?" Hermione cast a glare at the woman, finding it hard to believe how a person could be so emotionally detached from reality.
"I don't drink, and I don't sleep when I'll be having to save all your arses." She returned, a slight bitterness.
"Suit yourself."
One by one they eventually left her to sit by herself with an empty bottle and six empty glasses. And one by one, Hermione took those glasses to the sink and washed them. She couldn't sleep. She was very awake, her mind racing with all the information they had given her. They had all, in some form, been disassociated with the Ministry. They had all probably been given the same speech she had, the offering of a cleared Ministry folio, the prospect of returning to their jobs… For Harry, he had a family, children, a life… The more Hermione connected the dots, she realized, this team had been specially chosen. Not only because of their skill, but the blemishes they had left behind. They were all single, had no children, and had admitted to something done to be excommunicated. When you worked in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, it wasn't merely a job… It was a lifestyle. It dictated your actions, who you were, and what you would be. Without it, one could easily find themselves lost. Personal reasons brought them together, and in only a few hours could tear them apart.
For those few hours, Hermione summarized her life and her accomplishments. She had truly lived. She had had love, she had found family, and she had tied loose ends. There was a woman in the world who loved her, a godson who brought such unconditional love to her life, and she had, for a brief moment, found the peace she had been silently begging for in teaching. She had helped fight the greatest evil the world had ever seen and survived… No one could say she hadn't had a very full existance. For a few years she had gone off track, she could admit to that. But now? As clear headed as she had ever been she saw it, she saw the good. What more could she have asked for?
She thought of all these things because she knew that what they were walking into had to be a trap. Just as before, they were expected to get it done but, also, - and much more than that - lay down their lives for it. So, she waited. With the outcome becoming more and more apparent, she waited. She waited to see what the fight would bring, waited to see who would survive, and waited to send any communication.
_~*HGMM*~_
No one said a word as they began to rise from their beds. Those who had chosen to sleep simply got up and started getting dressed. It was two thirty in the morning and anyone who had ever been a part of these things knew that in the early hours of morning was the best time to try and infiltrate. It was when exhaustion caused people to not think in their best form, anyone who was on the receiving end of a surprise didn't have the time to formulate a corrective action. Their adversaries would fumble.
When people began to appear from their private rooms, they saw Hermione seated at the table with a cup of coffee and a book. Leisurely, she sipped and flipped pages waiting for the moment when it was time to lay down her text, take up her wand, and march out into the darkness of an uncertain future. They had a plan in place, there was no need to go over and beat a dead animal anymore than they had in Kirkcudbright, and all that was left was to ensure everyone was accounted for and held accountable. After all preparation had been laid down, they gathered outside the tent. A map was brandished and laid out, Gwendolyn took the reins and provided small various directions, potential paths that they may choose to take, but Hermione saw only one way… Straight through the middle.
The manor that they were going to was an old family home, a place that they could only speculate would house fifteen people or just a few more. The opposite side would have potentially a 3 to 1 advantage, but that didn't appear to concern anyone terribly much. It wasn't unusual. Signals were decided upon and then the group left, branching out into different directions, two or three close together at a time.
Through forest and over fields, eventually, Hermione and Lewis lost sight of anyone else but themselves. The quietly moved on without so much as a word passed between them until their individual map showed that they were getting close, uncomfortably so, to where they needed to be stationed.
"What's your plan, Granger…" He asked in hushed tones at long last, knowing that there was probably something playing in the woman's head as she had had hours to consider her options. Hours more than the rest, at least.
Hermione got her wand at the ready to send their signal. As soon as she saw a spark of light, she'd whisper lumos, and then they would move. Crouching in the brush, the manor in the distance reminded her of Malfoy Manor; no lights to indicate anyone was inside, and no movement to be noted, she leaned in to Lewis and parted her lips to speak.
"If anyone hesitates, please… Do anything you can to get them away, if people start pouring out of there like a hornets nest, you can be sure that Nott will be stationed inside, I need to get into that place." She told him. Behind his moustache, the man frowned. This didn't sound like part of their plan at all, which had been to draw the dastardly devil out into the open.
"What are you going to do to him?" The man furthered, his wand at the ready. Hermione hesitated before appraising the structure. Stone, brick, wood… It was heavy, Victorian. A whole house, so many rooms, three stories of it. Stone and brick, she kept thinking to herself. With everything inside and the weight of roof, and the floors above them… If she could manage to get the man to stay with her on the main floor...
"If I get inside that house, I'll bring the whole fucking thing down… The chance of one or both of us surviving is very slim, I think." She replied in a whisper, her eyes darting along the outskirts for any sign of their party. The man beside her stared at the side of her face.
"You're either bloody mad or bloody brilliant, I can't tell which… But it could work."
Far enough away, a light sparked. Faintly, it shone along the brush and then, another.
"Signals up, Crowly." Hermione ordered and they lifted their wands, light illuminating from their tips. Hermione counted four… And then seven. Just as they were readying to make a break for it, ten signals. Then thirteen. Some so close that movement was beginning to be seen. Lights like fireflies began to pop up all around the border and Hermione's eyes couldn't keep up with how many flickering tips appeared in the darkness.
"Fucking Merlin's balls, we've been had…" She heard before the screaming started. One purple ball of light whizzed across the front of the property and aimed through to the other side, it was all the incentive that was required for whoever else was encircling the manor to start casting spells of various sorts. Dark figures, teams of them, began appearing and inching out of hiding. Through the madness that began to unfold, Hermione left Lewis to either run or follow. Out in the open, people were running, their wands held high and blasting whoever they could take aim upon. Hermione began running toward the manor, the ground beneath her feet shifting from padded, firm earth to pebbles and rocks as a carriage road became the preferred route. Out of the corner of her eye, a burst of orange and a shadowy figure came into view. Before having the chance to block, the woman was side swept and flung. Hitting the ground, she wasn't sure how many feet she'd been taken until her vision cleared.
"GET ON YOUR FEET, GRANGER!" A voice rang out, Hermione lifted her head to see the sight of a woman, Gwendolyn, in a rather heated duel with three or four Death Eaters. Windows grew illuminated and the property was beginning to be a bit easier to read. If not from the lights turning on then the bright, flashing colour shooting in multiple directions. It was a minefield.
Pushing off the ground, Hermione broke out in a run. More aware of her surroundings, anyone that decided to venture close enough to stop her was met with a searing snakes of green. She was indiscriminate. Taking the words that Kingsley had said to heart, she would allow for now one to get in her way. Closer and closer, she began to fight her way toward the manor. Soon enough, Lewis found himself catching up, but only just before Hermione sent a wave of destructive spells that blew open the two front doors, causing wood to splinter and fly in all directions.
"Help the others, whoever is left standing." She growled back at him, her feet carrying her up the ornate stone steps until she could fly into the foyer. Immediately upon entering, a figure darted out of an adjoined room and she reacted. She sent the figure flying back with a powerful hex into the room from which it had come from, only to hear the crash of a body and furniture.
"You aren't going to win, girl…" Brown eyes frantically searched above, where up a set of curling stairs stood a tall, pale, blue eyed man, peering over a railing. "Your dear fumbling Geoffry made sure of that." Hermione's aim took and she pointed her wand at the man. His smarmy, cold features fueling her anger. Of course it would have been the one of them… Kingsley had probably known all along. That's why the documents were blacked out...
"Prove it, come down here and duel me." She taunted, backing herself slowly toward a wall, not giving anyone the satisfaction of coming up from behind. Outside, the screams and cries were deafening, but inside… It was almost quiet. His forces were tempting to rid them, but as she expected, this man… Well, as most great leaders with horrible intentions, he was a coward. He laughed at her.
"Duel you? Why duel you when I can wait for my followers to end your accomplices and storm in here and end you?" He called down to her, inching closer to the staircase and her one wish. There was always a way to make someone do exactly what you wanted… Pride was the way. Hermione's skin could have crackled with electricity knowing exactly what to say to cloud his judgement.
"Daddy thought that too, you know… Let the stupid ones go first, but when we made them fall at Hogwarts, and he was among the last ones standing, you should have seen how terrified he was before we took him down… I wonder if all your relatives piss themselves when they're scared." The venom in her voice was thick, and for that moment she could see the cruelty and outrage fill those soulless blue eyes. Just a few steps more, down the stairs… She thought. The fight was growing nearer and nearer outside, either his followers were falling back or her Auror's were closing in. Either of the two, there wasn't much time. She needed him to get down on her level.
"You haven't the slightest clue who you are talking to…" Gritted teeth bared. Yerrick started down the stairs, his footfalls heavy, although calculated. Hermione's wand held at the ready, all she needed was a moment more.
"MASTER YERRICK!" Out of the blue, the man who she had taken out upon entry ran into the foyer, his face badly bloodied. It was enough to cause distraction for Hermione to shoot a spell and bind the dark wizard when his head snapped in the direction of the interruption. She didn't think for one more second, the timing was too perfect.
"You're gonna wish you hadn't done that," She could have chuckled before aiming her wand up high. "Contretis Omnis…" The woman whispered, her wand finally springing to life.
_~*HGMM*~_
The sun was rising, and the fighting was in full swing. Living long enough to see three of their members meet their end, the few members of their party that were left, among the many dark wizards they were fighting, paused. An extraordinary light shattered every outward facing window of the manor, white illumination blinding some of the few who stood too close. The sound of creaking, joints and fixtures moaning beneath the weight of themselves, filled the air and the screaming of voices fell silent.
No one was expecting to see the sight of the manor collapsing in upon itself. No one knew anyone had that kind of magical prowess. But when Lewis heard the noise, he knew it had to be one witch.
When the manor came down, the Auror's who lived began to hear deafening pops. Those who were smart enough, apparated away to only Merlin knew where. Those who were not particularly bright remained, until they were either caught, or too badly injured to inflict any further harm upon anyone. Of the three that lay dead, it was discovered that the department leak, Geoffry, was one of them. No one beside Hermione knew it at the time, and no one would know it for many hours. At least, not until word reached back to the Ministry as a distress call for more back up and a search party was formed. Harry was the first of many to appear and give aid, but his mission was personal.
When he saw the destruction and the pile of rubble, his heart began to beat furiously in his chest. Her partner explained what had happened and he felt sick to his stomach. Many hours had already been lost and hardly anyone lifted a finger. Hermione was in there somewhere, and he wouldn't rest until she, or her body, was recovered. He prayed for the first time in many years and began digging.
TBC