The high walls were as she remembered them when the small group landed outside of Nocturnus Castle, but unease crept along her spine as Hermione stared up at the massive spires. There was no sense making themselves at home—not when they had a mission. The rising sun was just breaking the horizon, casting the world in tinges of orange and gold, the sky itself a faded lavender.
It might have stolen Hermione's breath if she weren't so fixated on what they were there to do. Her fingers grazed her copy of Hugo's map where the small scroll sat in her pocket, and with a grimace, she met Draco's stare.
"We have five guards," Hugo announced, jumping straight into business, "and three will stay with the Lunae Ortus and Lunae Amor."
Catching a tight breath, Hermione felt only relief that she wouldn't be pulled from Draco's side—especially not after having seen the look on his face when Hugo announced they would be communicating via Patronus. It was a touchy subject, one she hadn't wanted to bring up while everything was new and tentative between them—especially with everything else that had been going on—but she could only surmise he didn't know how to produce one.
Most Death Eaters couldn't, or so she had been told. But Snape had been able to.
Hermione had faith Draco could learn, too. But it was neither the time nor the place to broach the subject. Not when his jaw was clenched so hard it could cut ice, his eyes darting rapidly around them as he nodded at Hugo's words.
"The other two will come with me, then," Hugo finished, trailing off when no one spoke. He jammed his hands into his pockets, looking uneasy. Despite that the mission was a relatively simple one, they didn't know exactly what they would be coming up against, and their last foray into an Alba fortress hadn't gone particularly well.
"That leaves groups of three and five," Hermione interjected into the quiet tension among the group. "Hardly seems balanced."
"Balance doesn't matter," Ben said gruffly as he drew his wand into a meaty fist.
Draco stared at Hugo for a long moment, his eyes tight. "We have the affiliation as well. Hugo, take three guards." For a fleeting instant, Hermione thought she could see veiled concern in his face, and despite herself and the situation, her lips twitched.
Releasing a long breath, Hugo's eyes darted up towards his hairline in a facsimile of an eyeroll—presumably as close as he would dare. A spasm of worry settled into her stomach; he looked exhausted. "Lunae, your life and that of the Lunae Amor are the most important things at stake here. More so than even the rescue of Arcand's wife and daughter."
Folding his arms, Ben gave a resolute nod. "Three of us will accompany you, Lunae."
Finally, Draco caved with a sharp nod, but he still scowled at Hugo. "Don't you dare put yourself into danger."
"Never," Hugo breathed with a hint of mocking in his tone, and Draco's lips tugged with a smirk. But then Hugo clapped his hands, and idly, Hermione wondered at how easily he had taken command of the operation. Perhaps forcing Hugo to take ownership in the matter had been good for him. "Are we set, then?"
Three of their guard cadre stepped alongside Hermione while the remaining two sidled towards Hugo as he drew his map, pointing out the location into which they would Apparate. It appeared to lead towards two entrances along the side of the building where his contact had suggested Arcand's family would be kept.
Steeling herself with a slow inhale, Hermione nodded, drawing her wand into her hand. Beside her, Draco's knuckles were white, clenched around his own. The fingertips of his marked hand shimmered with the affiliation. He ground out a low, "Yes."
A low murmur of assent spread through the group, and Draco pulled Hermione tightly into his side; before she could react, her feet left the ground in a spin of Apparition.
When they landed at the designated location outside of the fort, Draco released Hermione, adjusting his hold on his wand as he took a silent headcount of the group. Amidst hushed tension, he caught Hugo's eye, and with a brief nod, the two groups split up, wands held aloft and a copy of the map floating along ahead of them.
Hermione kept close to his side, her shoulder brushing his every so often, eyes trained ahead of them.
Ben and another guard whose name Draco didn't know offhand kept to their flanks and just ahead, with Vlad holding the rear. Before Draco even realised they weren't alone, the guard to his right had dispatched two guards dressed in deep gold robes with silent stunners.
"If anything goes wrong," Ben cautioned out of the corner of his mouth, "you Disapparate. Immediately."
At his side, Granger cast a nonverbal spell, and in the distance, another guard slumped to the ground. His eyes slid to meet hers, and she offered a half-hearted smile.
His fingers tingled with the lunar affiliation as if it were pushing to make itself known, to fly free and wreak havoc. The very atmosphere of the Alba fortress felt wrong in Draco's soul as they approached the imposing stone walls. It was more modern than the one he had accidentally destroyed the last time they were in Italy, but this one was clearly functional. A quick Homenum Revelio alerted him to the fact that there were dozens of people inside—Draco could only hope they weren't all guards.
As they walked, Draco noticed Granger tapping the tips of her fingers against her thumb, one after another in rapid succession. With each tap, a dull burst of white light flared from the point of contact, and despite himself, his eyes widened in surprise.
With a quick glance around them, he whispered, "Have you been practicing?"
"It's easier when I'm near you," she returned in a quiet voice. They were close to the fortress now, and Draco's eyes tightened with caution as they followed along in the guards' steps, close along the wall of the citadel. "I can't make the magic do much of anything, but I can summon it at least."
He offered a nod and a reassuring smile. "Keep working on it—I think you'll get it. Merlin knows I might need you to save me one day."
A soft laugh broke from her lips, the sound of it sloughing away some of the tension wracking his entire body.
Ben froze, lifting a hand as he lowered his chin. "The entrance is here," he murmured, cross referencing his copy of the map. The second guard crept towards the door, casting a flurry of unlocking and unwarding spells with such rapidity that even Granger looked awed. Presumably he was a spell-breaking specialist, and it made sense why Draco hadn't seen him in the usual guard rotation. Vlad kept resolutely at their backs, observing the path from which they had come.
There was no longer any movement in the vicinity; all of the Alba guards in the immediate area had been stunned, and it might have felt too easy if not for the fact that Alba hadn't been expecting an ambush.
"Here," Ben said, jabbing a finger into the map in reference to the point where Hugo suggested they might find Arcand's family. Tracing a circle, he added, "They could be in any of these rooms—and this bloody fortress is a maze."
"We also don't know in what manner they're being kept," Hermione contributed, drawing her lip between her teeth. "My initial thought was that Cosette had them holed up in a cell somewhere—but what if they aren't? What if there are others around? We need to take extra care that we know exactly who we're alerting to our presence."
"A good point," Draco said gruffly, sweeping a hand through his hair. Adrenaline coursed through his veins, and he willed his heart to slow in vain. "Ultimately, our plan remains the same. Get in. Locate Arcand's family. Give them the Portkeys. And get the hell out."
There was a general murmur of assent as the second guard broke through the final layer of spellwork on the heavy iron door, and it pushed open with a screech that caused them all to wince.
Silently, Ben swiped his hand forward, and the group fell back into formation as they proceeded into a dim corridor that appeared to be some sort of hidden side entrance lit by flickering torches. The walls were made of rough-hewn stone that rounded towards the ceiling as if carved from the very rock with which they were composed. The floor was little more than packed earth, but Draco could feel an ominous air of magic around him that fought with his own core.
He could tell by the look on Granger's face she could feel it prodding at her magic as well. The tapping of her fingers intensified, the gentle flares of magic more noticeable in the darkness of the passageway. Idly, Draco closed his hand around her fingers to subdue the light—to hide the indication that she was learning control of the lunar affiliation as well.
"Just in case," he whispered, and her jaw clenched as her throat bobbed with a swallow.
It wasn't often Draco saw Granger anxious or fearful, and it only served to intensify his own worry.
The passageway was empty as they walked, devoid of any movement save for the flickering of torches as their advance pushed forth a slight breeze. Draco wasn't sure what he was expecting—whether he would have rather run into Alba operatives—but the eerie silence tugged at something in the back of his mind.
Pulling his own map from his pocket, he squinted at it in the dim lighting, Granger peering down at his side. Her voice was quiet with a bit of a tremble. "We're about to breach that chamber."
Nodding, Draco tapped the page with his wand. "Hugo's team would have taken this entrance."
Ben and the second guard froze as they reached the end of the tunnel, wands aloft as they cast several spells on the door and the room ahead. Meeting Granger's eye, Draco nodded towards the second guard, and mouthed, 'Name?'
A ghost of humour traced her lips, and she breathed into his ear, "Boris." The feel of her warm breath on his skin released a chain of gooseflesh down Draco's throat, and he forced a nod.
In a quiet series of events, Boris threw open the door, and with a few quick casts of his wand, two Alba guards slumped to the ground. An exhale chased from Draco's lungs as he stepped through into a circular chamber with vaulted ceilings, and the affiliation physically stung at the tips of his fingers as he gazed down upon the unconscious men. The group of them cast a series of muffling and disillusionment charms before proceeding.
If there was any lingering doubt as to the situation, leaving an Alba stronghold full of unconscious guards would certainly send a message. Not to mention the seizure of two prisoners that Draco was hoping to Merlin they'd be able to pull off.
The chamber was sparsely furnished like some sort of entrance hall, and an elaborate stairwell climbed at the far side, entirely at odds with the dank passageway they'd entered through.
But no other people remained in the room, and the feeling of unease within his soul pushed him to keep moving forward.
"We need to take this corridor to the right," Granger intoned quietly as they advanced through the open space.
The corridor to the right led through a series of small rooms that were largely empty aside from some outdated kitchen and cleaning equipment. The only relief in the situation was that Draco suspected if Alba knew of their presence, people would swarm them from every angle. Furthermore, beyond the external rooms, there hadn't been any wards in the fortress proper.
Granger directed them down a stairwell once more lit only with the flickering yellow light of torches. Glancing at the map, Draco nodded. "This is around where Hugo suggested Arcand's wife and daughter might be held."
As the group descended carefully below ground, they emerged into what looked like a vast cellar. Dusty bottles of wine lined racks along one entire wall, while oak barrels stood in even rows across half of the room. Storage shelves filled with dry goods occupied the rest of the room; squinting, he could barely make out an open doorway at the opposite end.
Skirting along one wall, so as to keep their presence as minimal as possible, they made for the door.
Suddenly Ben hissed, grabbing hold of Draco's wrist and dragging him to the ground behind a row of barrels as Boris likewise took hold of Granger. Draco met Vlad's intense stare as the third guard crouched down in front of them. Distant voices rumbled into the room from the staircase, and Draco found himself drawing shallow breaths.
"We can't leave," he breathed, as quietly as he could manage. "Not until we find Arcand's family."
Ben didn't respond but for a tightening of his gaze.
The group of them remained, concealed only by a row of whisky casks, eyes wide and alert. Draco's heart pounded with such voracity he felt almost certain the thud-thud-thud of it would give them away. Two voices—a man and a woman speaking Italian—breached the threshold of the room, and Draco found himself clenching his marked hand into a fist, his wand hanging loose in the other hand.
His great-grandfather's ring that his mother had given him for his birthday glowed with a faint shimmer, as if channeling the pent-up flow of the affiliation. At his side, Granger's shoulder against his grounded him, and he drew in a long breath.
Each of the three guards held their wands with practiced surety, their postures stoic and stares focused.
The man and woman lingered for longer than Draco could stomach, and he heard the clinking of several thick glass bottles before they retreated, the voices growing quiet once more as they returned via the way they had come.
Releasing a tight breath, he dragged a hand down his face.
Boris rose to cautious feet, bent at the knees as he observed the room before offering a nod. In a gruff, accented tone, he muttered, "Clear."
Draco's knees creaked as he rose from an awkward crouch, but Granger didn't follow, her gaze fixed on a point beyond the next row of kegs. She held up a tense hand, her eyes wide and unblinking. She whispered, "Not clear."
When Draco followed her gaze, a huff chased from his throat.
A pair of dark eyes blinked back at him from behind the keg at the end of the row, pale blonde waves curling around a young girl's face. She couldn't have been older than thirteen or fourteen, and Draco found himself frozen. Their guards looked equally uncomfortable, clearly uncertain about the idea of stunning a young girl.
But Granger whispered, "What's your name?"
Chewing on her bottom lip, the girl assessed the group of them with a shrewd stare. Finally she sighed and said with a French twinge, "You look like you aren't supposed to be down here." Her lips twitched with mischief, and she added, "My name is Meila Arcand."
"Thank Merlin," Draco huffed in surprise. "You're Claude Arcand's daughter." The girl offered a hesitant nod, her eyes brightening. "Where is your mother?"
Venturing out from behind her keg as if the mention of her father had assured her of their trustworthiness, she crept towards them. "She works in the kitchens." Her head canted to the side, in the direction of the door at the far end of the dim cellar. "That way. They keep us separate most of the time."
The guards exchanged a look and a nod and fell back into formation. But Meila spoke again. "I wouldn't go that way if I were you. The guards keep hidden passageways—they can appear at a moment's notice. And they aren't very nice."
Meila Arcand reminded him of a young Hermione Granger, right down to the curls, and he caught Granger's eye; her eyes tightened even as she fought a smile. Ducking down to Meila's level, she said, "Do you know where the passageways are?"
Making a face, Meila rubbed the back of her neck. "Some of them—but not all. I tried to explore them once, but the guards caught me." At her grimace, Draco's blood boiled in an instant.
Clearing his throat, he looked around. "We can't linger. Meila, we have a Portkey for you and your mother—to get back to your father. Is that okay?"
The girl's eyes brightened but then dimmed almost as quickly. "You won't be able to find my mother without alerting the guards."
A chill crept down Draco's spine when, only moments later, an iridescent white fox leapt into the room, careening to an awkward stop in front of them. Hugo's hushed voice emanated from within it.
"We found Arcand's wife—sent her to the safe house. His daughter is elsewhere. Be careful. There are many guards in this section."
A harsh breath of relief chased from Draco's lungs. The wife had already been extracted—and they had Arcand's daughter right here. Fumbling in his bag, he scrounged for the Portkey. The sooner they could evacuate Meila to the safe house, the sooner they could get out of this grungy fortress.
Ben and Vlad stood guard while Boris stepped forward to activate the Portkey with a few quick spells. Draco found himself captivated watching the man perform magic, the way it so naturally poured forth from his wand. But then the Portkey glowed blue, and Draco turned to the girl. "Your mother will be there already—and maybe your father as well. We'll come to check on you soon, okay?"
"Okay," Meila whispered with a conspiratorial grin. "Thank you!"
It was a good thing the girl was so readily trusting of anyone who clearly wasn't Alba, but Draco didn't have time to linger on it when another white fox tore through the room, barrelling straight through the kegs. Hugo's voice no longer carried the caution of moments ago—this time it was fear.
"Get out now. Our presence here is compromised. Ben, get them out!"
Granger sucked in a quick breath, and Draco felt the blood drain from his face as he gaped soundlessly at Ben. The group of them dropped to the floor again.
With a squeak, Meila clapped her hand to her mouth. Granger urged, "You need to go." Nodding while still covering her mouth, the girl grabbed hold of the Portkey and was gone.
"Fuck," Draco huffed, running a hand through his hair. "How do we reach Hugo when anyone will see a Patronus?"
"It won't matter," Ben said, confliction flashing in his face. "If Hugo's words are true, his location has already been sacrificed. If he sent his Patronus to warn us—it will have been seen."
"No," Granger whispered, horror tinging her tone. "No, they'll get out."
"We need to get out," Boris huffed. "Because anyone who saw that Patronus come this way will be here any moment."
Fear churned and escalated in the pit of Draco's stomach. He thought of Hugo and the pair of guards, of the panic in Hugo's voice. The way the young man had almost begrudgingly stepped into a spot of ultimate responsibility at Draco's side, and he muttered, "No. We need to check in. Granger, send a Patronus."
"You must not," Vlad hissed, ducking up to observe the door at the far end of the cellar. "It will lead them right to us, and we do not know how many guards there are."
"We have accomplished our mission." Ben swallowed, his voice gruff. "Hugo and his guards will Disapparate from their location. There is nothing more we can do here."
Sucking in a steadying breath, Draco met Granger's stare. His voice was soft, almost pleading. "What do we do?"
There was a slight tremble to her mouth as she forced her lips into a thin line, glancing at the guards. "We have to go. The others will do the same."
"Hugo's the only Secret Keeper of the safe house."
The words rang through the tense silence; in the distance Draco could hear shouting and the pounding of heavy footfalls. He couldn't tell which direction they came from and surmised it to be both.
Ben muttered, his words thick, "Then we'd better hope he gets out of here alive."
His hand coiled around Draco's wrist as Boris took hold of Granger's arm, and before Draco could protest, the guards spun as one into Apparition.
Nothing happened.
"Fuck," Boris huffed, shaking his head. "They've raised Anti-Disapparition wards."
Sucking in a breath, Granger clutched Draco's hand with an iron grip, her magic prickling against his own. "What now?"
With a grimace, Vlad tightened his hold on his wand. "We fight."
Author's Note: Hiiii hello I love you thanks for reading! I love hearing your theories :D /runs away/
Alpha and beta squad hugs to Kyonomiko, LadyKenz347, and ravenslight.