The last time Hermione donned her Nocturnus battle armour, her world had turned inside out.
The die had been cast, the pieces in place, and the plan would soon launch irreversibly into motion.
They were as ready as they were ever going to be―the mantra that had cycled through Hermione's head for the past twenty-four hours. But with only two days to work out so many details, many of their plans had ultimately been foregone for the sake of a streamlined effort to reclaim what was theirs.
The castle―their freedom―their lives.
Those who remained loyal to Nocturnus were prepared to fight with their lives to whatever end the day may bring. The thought churned a whirlpool of anxiety in the pit of Hermione's stomach, and it was a wonder she had managed to eat anything the night before.
Only by the soothing comfort Draco's magic offered had she found any sleep at all.
She cycled through the plan in her mind for what must have been the thousandth time, lingering on the details and trying not to focus on the many ways everything could go wrong.
There was nothing for it now. Once they crossed the threshold of Avance's wards at the Nocturnus Castle, there would be no going back, only through.
And Hermione could only hope at the end of it, truth and loyalty would bring them to victory.
Stowing her wand into its holster at her thigh―for good measure more than anything when the affiliation could do so much more than her wand could―she rose to her feet, facing herself in the floor length mirror in their quarters.
She felt Draco's presence before she saw him, walking up behind her. His gaze caught hers in the mirror's reflection, and Hermione bit down hard on her bottom lip to combat the sting of tears.
"Look how beautiful you are," he said, his lips grazing her temple. "My Lunae Amor."
Hermione sunk back into his hold as his arms banded around her middle, basking in the momentary relief from her fears. She squeezed her eyes shut, feeling moisture break free. "How do we know this is going to work?"
"We don't." Draco pressed a soft kiss to her cheekbone then to the curve of her jaw. "All we can do at this point is have faith."
A laugh slipped out despite herself as she said, "You make it sound so easy."
"It is so difficult." The words were barely a whisper against her skin, and a shiver crept down Hermione's spine. His arms around her tightened. "The only way I have any faith at all is by looking to you. And in knowing that I can't fail you."
"I love you." The words might have broken her if his grip wasn't so tight.
His lashes fluttered open, grey eyes seeking her own once more in the mirror. "I will do whatever it takes to be at your side at the end of all this."
A tear chased down her cheek. "I'm going to hold you to that, Draco Malfoy."
"Okay," he breathed, resting his face against her temple once more. "This is our fight, Hermione. Our fight to win. And all of this ends today."
The certainty in his words steeled her own courage, and she straightened, squaring her shoulders as she lifted her chin.
"There's my queen," Draco said, pressing another quick kiss to her skin as he adjusted her silver coronet in the mirror. "I know you know what to do as soon as you land in Italy―but please get your pretty little arse back to my side as soon as humanly possible."
A smile curled her lips as she said, "Deal."
He stared at her for another long moment, his eyes roving her face as if memorising her. Interlocking their fingers across her front, he gave her hand a squeeze. Then his expression sobered and he said, "We need to go."
He drew back, the loss of his warmth heavy on her soul, and Hermione nodded. She could already feel her magic reaching for his by the time he made it to the door. With one final shaky breath in and a long, shuddering breath out, Hermione turned to follow.
The Portkey was set to dispatch at precisely ten past six, and Hermione gazed upon her companions, the sun just peeking along the horizon. Boris stood at her left as their most skilled spellcaster and Ben at her right, who was surprisingly stealthy despite his bulk. Ben had corresponded the most with Cynthia regarding their side of the plan; both guards had spent hours studying every corridor and hidden passage in the Nocturnus Castle.
Some feet away Draco stood in quiet conversation with Hugo and Dagomir; Hermione didn't allow her gaze to linger or draw her focus. She had already said all she dared to each of them.
As soon as they'd secured Glenneth, she would see Draco again.
Anything else wasn't an option, and she already longed for the minutes to pass. But so many dangers lurked, implicit, within the plan, and she wouldn't dare allow herself to be distracted.
An emergency Portkey had been sewn into a hidden pocket in her sleek battle leathers, but Hermione also knew she wouldn't use it. She would fight her way out if she had to, whether by wand or affiliation, but she wouldn't leave anyone behind again.
Hermione glanced at her watch, noting the time, and caught Ben's gaze.
"Are you ready, Lunae Amor?" he asked. The nerves in his expression weighed more heavily than she had ever seen, and Hermione knew he feared not only for her and Draco, but for Cynthia as well.
Hugo had spent the past two days in varying shades of green, as if he knew what was coming but refused to back down. He wore his great-grandfather's sword once more proudly at his hip, and Hermione found her eyes stinging as she wrenched her gaze back towards her own group.
"Yes," she whispered.
Not because she was truly ready; she would never be ready for what they were to face. But because there were no other options anymore. If they were to rescue Glenneth and prevent the strange and powerful magic he possessed from working against them once more, they had to act now.
According to Cynthia, Glenneth would be moved to the dungeons in some three hours, and if they didn't move on the plan in time, they risked detection.
And they wouldn't be ready to fight until Draco had fulfilled his role in securing the allegiances of every Nocturnus member trapped within Avance's iron grip.
Draco's team―which was significantly larger, given they wouldn't actually be crossing the Avance wards until the command had activated―would land in a grove beyond the castle. Numerous teams of guards and other fighters would Portkey into the fringes, surrounding the castle.
Their friends who had sworn their Nocturnus oaths would be among those teams, but Hermione couldn't allow herself the distraction right now. She had spoken at length with Harry the night before. Had clung to him, tears streaming down her cheeks.
And they hadn't had time for further sentimentality. Not with so many lives hanging in the balance.
As her watch ticked over to ten past, the Portkey hovering between her, Ben, and Boris activated. Its pale blue glow illuminated the faces of her companions, and when Hermione glanced over, she found Draco's stare already on hers.
He fluttered his fingers by his side, throat bobbing with a swallow, and Hermione felt the tug of his magic against hers. A soft smile curled her lips, and she prodded at his magic in return.
From across the small space between them he mouthed 'I love you'. Hermione clapped a hand across her mouth with a tight nod, allowing her magic to coil tightly around his.
Before she could do something astronomically stupid like run to his side, she turned back towards Ben and Boris. Blowing out a breath, she nodded, reaching for the Portkey. Her fingers brushed the cold metal, and the three of them were gone.
Although the sun had begun to rise, a restful haze hung in the air when they landed in Italy. From the short distance away Hermione could see the Nocturnus Castle, and her heart twinged in her chest at the sight of it.
While it was early in the morning, there had been no ideal time to arrange the extraction. Some Avance guards would be awake and patrolling, along with any early rising residents, but according to Cynthia, the guard presence on the grounds was twice as heavy between the hours of eleven and six.
By the time they breached the wards at a quarter past, the last of the overnight guard patrols would have made their way into the castle.
But if their intelligence was to be believed, Cynthia's presence would help them enter the castle undetected. Coupled with Hermione's use of the affiliation and Boris' spellbreaking on the wards in the worst case scenario.
A disturbance in the wards, though they intended to avoid such a thing, would draw attention outwards so they could get in to find Glenneth. Although a disturbance would also raise alarms they didn't want raised.
Cynthia stood in wait at the designated meeting point, one of the locations the guards had verified as a blind spot in their countless reconnaissance missions. She looked anxious but alert, and Ben dragged her into a brief embrace, dwarfing the girl in his muscular arms.
"Good," she said, shifting on the spot as she briefly bowed her head in Hermione's direction, "you're just in time." Scanning the grounds between them and the castle, she added, "I made sure no one realised where I was going."
Hermione nodded, checking her watch again. Within such a short distance of Avance―Cosette and Elias and the others who had sought to destroy their Order―she could feel the barely contained rage pulsing within her magic, pressing against her fingertips and seeping from her veins.
Clenching a fist, she stifled the magic that longed to break free and announced, "We'll cross the wards in three minutes."
They all knew the fastest route from this particular point on the grounds to the room where Avance held Glenneth; Hermione suspected she could have found her way in her sleep, even having spent only a short time within the castle.
And thanks to Cynthia, they knew the guard patrols that would seek to hinder their progress.
Boris would make quick work of any defending guards; she had seen it before.
While Draco had initially pressed for more guards to accompany their small group, it would have only served to increase the likelihood of their discovery. The most important element of their mission was to be invisible.
To that end, Boris cast numerous spells on each of them. Disillusionment charms, a tricky spell to silence their steps, and Confundus charms in case they were spotted.
Hermione felt the shiver of magic sweep from her head to her toes, eyes fluttering as her affiliation magic assessed the foreign signature.
She met the stares of each Ben, Boris, and Cynthia in turn; they looked watery and vague, a side effect of the combination of spells, but they all shared a nod.
Hermione blew out a breath, checked her watch once more, and whispered, "Let's go get our mage back."
Wands held aloft, they skirted the edge of the wards, Cynthia leading as they broke through. Hermione felt the shudder of the wards, and when she caught Boris' stare, he hesitated for only a moment before nodding. "Clear."
Relief swept through her, but it was short lived as the castle rose up ahead of them. Breaching the wards undetected was the least of their worries, and the lesser of all the deadly obstacles they could face.
Crossing the grounds left Hermione feeling exposed, even though multiple guards had assured her the narrow, rolling path was beyond the eyes of Avance until guards expressly patrolled through it. And the next patrol wouldn't come that way for twenty minutes.
Slipping through one of the many passageways beyond the walls and into the castle itself was oddly disarming, considering they'd entered the enemy's territory. Hermione suppressed the fear that threatened at the edges of her vision, clenching her hands to steady the magic that pushed to escape.
Distantly she could feel the tendrils of Draco's magic entwining with her own, and she retreated into the back of her mind, hiding from her nerves and clinging to that small offering of support. In that moment, his presence with her felt like everything.
But it also signified that he had arrived in Italy, landing in the grove just beyond the wards.
Her heart rate jumped, the pressure implicit within her rising as well.
Everyone involved knew the stakes they faced, and as one they pressed on. With Cynthia's carefully curated information about the patrols, they knew when and where they would face Avance guards, and Boris was able to dispatch each one before they could even be noticed.
The situation would turn catastrophic if any guards were able to get out a warning.
Despite that they'd selected the nearest entrance, to Hermione it felt as if the walk took forever, each pulse of her heartbeat mocking her silent steps.
At last Cynthia breathed, "Through here."
It might have felt too easy but for their insider information, and Hermione watched as Boris slipped through the door in question and incapacitated four guards.
Hermione blew out a breath and drew in another through her nose, seeking to calm herself for what needed to be done.
Another long corridor wended deeper into the castle and came to an abrupt halt at the far end. Boris and Ben dropped several more guards, and Cynthia offered a stiff nod before they ventured into the larger room ahead.
Almost instantly, Hermione saw Glenneth. And although he lingered in the far corner, seated at a small round table with his back towards them, she could feel the hum of powerful magic.
No bars kept him which spoke either to the strength of the amulet he wore or the blind conceit of Avance.
Hermione suspected the former given Elias' suspicions about Glenneth's involvement in Tressel's death.
Which only increased the anxious rhythm of her heart, wariness an alarm bell in the back of her mind. If they were unconcerned with Glenneth walking free in this room, providing only a few guards, they must have believed him to be firmly on their side.
The entire plan hinged on Hermione's ability to destroy Glenneth's amulet.
And with the mage's loyalty restored, everything else could commence.
Reaching for Draco's magic, Hermione offered her thoughts into the tentative mind link that had begun to develop between them, hoping he would be near enough. I have eyes on Glenneth.
For a long, tense moment, she waited in silence for an answer. Glenneth either hadn't noticed their approach or didn't care to react as he continued staring at the wall. Idly, Hermione wondered whether he even had the wherewithal to think for himself or if the amulet dulled his mental capacity.
She exchanged a glance with Ben and Boris, offering a brief shake of the head. No response. Glancing towards her watch, she frowned. It was nearly time for Draco to connect to the greater Nocturnus mind link.
Hermione crept a step forward, allowing lunar magic to accumulate in her palm. The magic had strengthened so much in recent days it almost consistently sought to break free now. One guard walked at either side, wands aloft, and Cynthia lingered by the exit into the corridor as a lookout.
She fixed her intention, magic drifting free of her fingertips. Destroy the amulet―free Glenneth from Avance's hold.
Only a few steps remained between them and the mage, and Hermione cast Ben a sidelong glance, lips twisted with uncertainty. He offered an unsteady nod.
Hermione could see the thick, ornate chain around Glenneth's throat, but from behind she couldn't see the amulet. Allowing her magic to reach out, she took another step.
Don't react.
Draco's voice echoed through her head; each guard tensed, their expressions alert. Cynthia released a sharp gasp.
But searing pain ripped through Hermione's head, her stomach instantly churning with the strain on her magic. The tendrils of affiliation floating ahead of her faltered, dissipating into the air.
Hermione scrunched her eyes shut, forcing her attention onto Glenneth. The mage hadn't reacted; either the command hadn't reached the depths of his addled mind or it hadn't penetrated far enough. But Boris offered her a firm nod.
This is the Lunae Ortus of the Nocturnus Order. I repeat―do not react.
Magic rippled down her spine. She might have blown out a breath if her legs hadn't become so shaky, a cold sweat breaking out on her temples at the pressure on her magic. The link between them was more powerful than she could have ever imagined, but it meant their magic was inextricably connected.
Hermione had experienced a similar reaction when Draco had tested the mental link with the guards at the villa, but never had the magic affected her so greatly. The command now reached nearly ten times the amount of people here than they had been able to test with.
Clenching her teeth together to keep from crying out, Hermione dropped her face into her hand, her head throbbing harder than she could stand.
"Miss Amor," Ben whispered, grabbing hold of her arm as she swayed on the spot. "Are you alright?"
Her vision swam so much that she could scarcely see the look of concern on his face.
Draco's voice spoke in her mind again.
Nocturnus Order―I seek your stolen allegiance. I free you from your forced loyalty to Avance. Join us once more, and we will end this war once and for all. Today we fight for truth―for justice―for the belief in something greater.
Despite the tears that broke of their own accord and raced down her cheeks, Hermione felt a frisson of pride. She could feel the tug of Draco's command through the link; saw the way Ben and Boris stood taller, their shoulders straighter.
Her knees buckled with the agony in her skull, and only Ben's grip on her arm kept her upright.
Glenneth turned in his seat, rising at last to his feet. His usually jovial blue eyes were empty, fathomless. Not a shred of recognition remained in his glassy stare as he gazed upon the three of them. Magic emanated from within him, pulsing into the air between them.
No one knew where the depth of the mage powers had come from; it was nothing like the affiliation magic, but leagues ahead of what most spellcasters could summon.
The trivial recollection Draco had once shared kept Hermione's brain focused on the task ahead.
But her magic sputtered at her fingertips, the strain of Draco's utilisation of the command having drawn from her and drained her almost entirely.
She could see the amulet at last, a deep golden gemstone resting against Glenneth's black robes. They had dressed him in Avance colours, and the thought of it crept through her like revulsion.
Biting down hard on her bottom lip, Hermione reached deep within herself, searching for what remained of the affiliation. Her fingers warmed with the faint sparks of magic, and sucking in a deep breath, Hermione sought to banish the pain that still pulsed through her, threatening to drag her under.
"We're here to rescue you, Glenneth," she whispered, the mage still staring blankly at her as she rubbed her fingertips together, reaching deeper still for the scraps that hovered at the edges of her core.
She could feel Draco's magic nudge her own; soft, apologetic.
As if he could feel the costly impact his magic had on her. In the strength required to obliterate Cosette's hold on the Order.
Grasping onto the offering, she pulled from the bonds between them, deeper and deeper into her magic, into Draco's magic, and at last Hermione felt the affiliation begin to build once more. She could feel its innate healing powers begin to mend the strain, her vision clearing as her legs strengthened once more.
But Glenneth raised a hand, his ominous stare fixed directly on her. Ben's wand faltered in her periphery, and Hermione shook her head with a hissed, "Don't."
Destroy the amulet―free Glenneth.
The mage began to chant in Latin, his expression devoid of emotion. Hermione had no doubt what would befall all of them if he had the time to complete the enchantment. Her heart rate spiked as she gathered still more magic into her palm, strengthening with the clarity returning to her mind.
But they had lost precious seconds.
"Get back," Hermione said, and when neither guard reacted, she huffed, "it wasn't a suggestion."
As if driven by her words, Ben and Boris each faltered a step back, their jaws clenched.
Hermione stepped forward, fear racing through her as Glenneth chanted, his gaze firm on her face even as she lifted a hand, glowing with the raw lunar power that she had managed to accumulate, each strand of it hard fought.
She could only hope it would be enough.
Destroy the amulet.
Glenneth's magic swirled around her, prickling across her skin as she released her own power with a sharp curl of her wrist.
Tension hung in the air in the fraught moments that followed, time itself shuddering to a momentary halt as her magic collided with Glenneth's. A shockwave rippled through the room, knocking Ben, Boris, and Cynthia to the floor.
And still Hermione pressed on, funnelling her magic―Draco's magic as it spooled through her like thread―into the golden gemstone that imprisoned Glenneth within his own mind.
She could feel his enchantment in turn, a gust of wind sweeping through the room with the cacophony of the exchange, and she had no doubt that if she were the first to relent, his magic would claim her life.
Her eyes fluttered shut, the strain of the magic once more pulsing against her temples, but she only redoubled her efforts, pushing back against the grotesque, ancient magic, twisted and cold against her own.
Tears broke from her closed eyes, and Hermione delved still deeper, drawing mere ghostly wisps from within her core. With a great cry she twisted her wrist, throwing all that remained of the affiliation into severing the magic that fought back against her own.
The silence that followed hung in the air as she dragged her eyes open, the effort of remaining on her feet almost more than she could handle. As she stumbled back she collapsed into a pair of arms, feeling Boris set her upright once more.
And she watched, her heart throbbing dully in her chest, while the golden gemstone flickered.
The light from within it dulled.
Boris' hand was a welcome support on her shoulder, her eyelids drooping, even as she felt cool threads of Draco's magic coil around her like a shield.
The gemstone shattered, its pieces clattering to the ground between them with soft clinks. Hermione sucked in a deep, measured breath, coming back into herself as Draco's magic bolstered her spent core.
Tears leaked from Glenneth's bright blue eyes before he sunk into a deep bow.
Relief swelled through every fibre of Hermione's being, the tension sinking from her shoulders.
"Lunae Amor," Glenneth gasped, rising at last to meet her stare. His cheeks were damp, contrition bare in his eyes as his wizened hands hung at his sides. "I―"
"It's okay," Hermione whispered, stepping towards the mage to draw him into an embrace. When she pulled away, she could see the despair, the shame and misery, on the old man's face. She only said again, "It's alright, Glenneth. You're back with us now."
Ben cleared his throat, and Boris reached around Hermione to clap his fellow guard on the back.
But Glenneth still frowned. "The Lunae Ortus―"
"Is alive," Ben said, offering a brisk nod.
Relief swept through Glenneth's face as he sagged into himself, his eyes pressing shut. Quietly, he said, "I will carry this shame for the rest of my life."
"Please don't," Hermione said, a hint of a smile at last tugging at her lips. "All we ask is that you help us set things right. We're here to take back Nocturnus."
Determination replaced sorrow, and the man nodded, clutching a hand to his heart. "I will do whatever you ask of me."
Cynthia rushed back over towards them, her expression fearful. "Someone's coming."
Snapping back to attention, Ben and Boris lifted their wands; almost entirely spent of her magic as it slowly began to accumulate once more, Hermione hung back.
Footfalls grew nearer down the corridor, and she instinctively gathered magic in the tips of her fingers as a man appeared in the entrance into the room.
"Wait!" he exclaimed, before any of them could cast a spell. The man wore Avance robes, a wand dangling limply from his fingertips. He threw the wand into the room, and it skittered off the tiles before landing near Hermione's feet. Raising his hands in supplication, he ducked his shoulders.
"What is it?" Hermione asked, brow knitting. Boris collected the wand with a frown.
The man's deep brown eyes met her own; he spoke in a thick Italian accent. "Bergen is a madman; I'm with you if Nocturnus can get me out of this damn castle."
Hermione sucked in a quick breath.
She glanced towards Ben, whose wand was still trained on the Avance man, then to Cynthia, who only shook her head.
Draco's voice echoed in her head. Are we all clear to proceed?
Yes. We've got Glenneth. Her own voice echoed off the link between them, and she felt Draco's magic nudge her own in response. There would be time to share details later, but now wasn't it.
"Fine," she breathed, snapping her attention back to Ben. "Keep an eye on him, and if he does anything, don't hesitate―we've got to go."
The Avance man's chin ducked into a nod.
Mind whirling and fingertips pulsing, Hermione followed the small group from the room, Glenneth at her tail.
Author's Note: Thanks so much for reading! Next chapter is a big one. I hope you enjoyed xoxo
Alpha hugs to Kyonomiko and beta kisses to ravenslight.