Chapter 45

Hermione deflected hexes shot at her by the Patil twins when a large whoosh sound made everyone around her jump.

"Lavender for fucks' sake!" she heard Dean call out. "You're going to roast someone!"

Lavender giggled and cast another gigantic fireball into the air. It expanded until it was twelve feet across, making the whoosh sound Hermione heard earlier, and then dissolved into little tendrils of flame, finally disappearing when the fire had nothing to burn.

Pamela Proudfoot and Ignatius Savage barked orders at everyone from across the lawn. Tonks had verified the two Aurors were not the leak, at least, not that the Aurors had been aware of, and neither had been Imperiused. The Order still hadn't figured out who had Imperiused two of their members, including the Secret Keeper for Paddington. Although all possible leaks to the outside were cut off – no one was Polyjuiced, no one was Imperiused any longer, and everyone had been interrogated with Veritaserum – it was unsettling that the leadership still didn't know who made the Secret Keeper give away Paddington's location, or even how it was done.

"Hermione!"

She whirled around to see Remus waving to her from the entrance to Westchester. He had Teddy strapped to his front, snoozing contentedly despite the yelling echoing across the expansive safe house grounds.

Hermione jogged over, wiping the sweat off her brow and wondering if leadership was having an impromptu meeting. She stopped abruptly when she saw the look in his eyes. He was in professor mode.

Remus stroked Teddy's hair for a few moments in thought and then spoke. "Dora said you're still having trouble throwing off the Imperius."

Her shoulders sagged in defeat. She was. There were a few Order members that were still having difficulty throwing it off and to her utter dismay, she was one of them. Even private lessons with Tonks didn't seem to work despite helping everyone else.

"Yes, I don't know why," she explained defensively. "I've read as much as I can and I understand the fundam–"

"Come walk with me." Remus cut her off. "I don't think the problem lies with your ability or understanding of the curse itself. The two or three others still having difficulty, yes. But not you."

She remembered how Harry had only been able to cast the Patronus charm after being instructed by Remus, and coached into finding the proper memory and deconstructing it. Much like she had done with Draco. Maybe there was something else at play that she was missing.

"What do you think it is, then?"

Gazing over at Minerva while she demonstrated advanced Shielding Charms, he stepped off the porch. Hermione followed him as he walked down a path which led to the neighboring sheep fields. Their feet disturbed some of the dirt on the path and little clouds of dust wafted away in their wake.

"Does your responsibility weigh on you?"

Hermione turned to him, squinting from the sun shining behind him. What did that have to do with anything?

"Of course it does."

He stopped walking when they reached the sheep field and faced her, concern reflecting in his dark brown eyes. "Do you feel responsible for their deaths?"

She blinked, and swallowed. Remus was staring at her as if he already knew the answer to that question. Immediately, she felt the burning of tears.

"I know it's silly," she admitted, and sniffed, preventing her tears from falling. "I'm not the only one making decisions. It's somewhat arrogant to blame myself. And I know I couldn't have done anything about Ollivander."

He waited for her while she figured out how to phrase the thoughts she had the night Draco had confessed to murdering them.

"And yet?

"And yet…" Her words came out in a rush. "And yet I wish I would have tried harder to convince Luna to come with us. I shouldn't have let her stay at Hogwarts." A tear finally fell and she wiped it away. "And we could have drilled a Portkey evacuation plan, even with the limited ones we had. I should have thought of it before. I should have insisted. And I could have–"

"Hermione."

Remus' voice was soft and comforting. She watched while his fingers played with Teddy's baby hair and inhaled slowly to stem the rushing tears.

"Do you remember the conversation we had back at Pinner? When I said you could step down if you wanted?"

She was mortified that Remus thought she couldn't handle the responsibility. Is that what this was? Because she couldn't manage to throw off the Imperius Curse she had to give up her leadership position?

"But I'll manage eventually!" she protested. "I'm working on it!"

He shook his head with a sad smile. "That's not what I meant, and I wasn't implying that you should step down. I don't doubt you're working very hard on throwing it off, just like you do everything else."

"Then what is it?" she asked, relieved that she wouldn't have to give up.

"I think part of you doesn't want to have that much responsibility."

"I do!" she insisted, put on the defensive again by his suggestion. "It's hard, yes, but I don't regret it for a minute!"

"You don't have to prove anything to me, or to anyone." He smiled sadly. "We all know you can handle it. But it's okay to admit serving in a leadership position is overwhelming. Sometimes I wish I was your age again," he motioned to everyone throwing hexes around, "not worrying about making big decisions because Albus was doing that for me."

Hermione felt somewhat mollified that Remus felt insecure about his role as well. Mollified, but also scared. It was unnerving; realizing that a rock she depended on wasn't as hard as she previously thought.

But everyone had insecurities. Minerva, Tonks, Kingsley – they probably all had insecurities, and just didn't discuss them.

At least, not with her.

"It's not your mistake, it's not your burden. It's all of ours."

She turned to him sharply and felt the lump in her throat return. "You think we made a mistake?"

"Mmm." Remus nodded and his thumb stroked Teddy's cheek, rubbing the soft flesh back and forth. "You were right, in retrospect. We should have drilled an evacuation plan the minute we had a place to go to. Even if we didn't have enough Portkeys, even if the evacuation site wasn't ready. The best we can do is rectify and do better for next time."

"But… but then," she felt tears burn her eyes again, and Occluded, not wanting to cry in front of him. "It's our fault they're dead!"

"That's part of being a leader," he replied sadly. "We shoulder the successes, we shoulder the burdens, we shoulder the failures. It will always be like that. Leaders fail too." She inhaled a shuddering breath and tightened her chest, willing herself not to cry. "Albus made mistakes, didn't he? And he paid for those mistakes with his life."

Hermione was silent.

"And you pointed out that we made a mistake which led to Alastor's death. Remember?"

She did. And she didn't think any less of Minerva, Kingsley, Tonks or Remus for it. She had watched them deftly navigate the difficulties of building an underground resistance and chipping away at Voldemort's army all while staying hidden.

"Leaders fail sometimes. Everyone makes bad decisions. Do you know the difference between a good and bad leader?"

She shook her head silently.

"Good leaders learn from their mistakes and persevere. You're not a failure simply because you – we – didn't act quickly enough. We'd be failures if we gave up or didn't fix what went wrong."

She watched everyone fighting across the lawn. They were all her responsibility. Their responsibility. "That helps, Remus. It does. I guess… I hadn't looked at things that way. But it's terrifying. Sometimes I feel paralyzed by the fear of failure."

"This won't be the last time we fail, Hermione. You know that, don't you?"

She sucked her bottom lip into her mouth and nodded silently.

"I hope the next time I fail won't come at such a cost."

"We," Remus corrected. "You're not alone."

She smiled gratefully at him and they turned back watch everyone running back and forth, bright flashes of light blasting over the field as they fought one another. Lavender shot a gigantic fireball into the air, lighting a tree on fire.

"What does all this have to do with the Imperius Curse?"

His eyes rested on her.

"Part of you wants to give up control to someone else."

Her lips parted in understanding.

"Oh," she said softly.

"We're different from the rest of them," he continued, facing towards the Order members being trained by the Aurors. "While they make split second decisions during raids, and have a responsibility towards each other in battle, they don't have the kind of deliberations we do which impact the future of the Order. They don't make decisions which impact our ability to win this war. They follow our directives." He started drawing circles on Teddy's back. "The stress of combat they feel is acute, but so is the relief. The stress you experience is chronic, and there is no relief from that." He raised an eyebrow at her. "We still have that three-foot long parchment wish list we're working on, 'eh?"

She furrowed her brow in puzzlement. "But why doesn't it affect you? You're the leader. You have more responsibility than the rest of us. Certainly more than me." Her eyes lowered to Teddy, cradled against Remus' chest while he slept. "And now with a baby."

He placed his hand protectively over Teddy's head and raised his eyebrows. "Who said it doesn't affect me?"

Hermione wasn't the only one who doubted herself, and she wasn't the only one who felt overwhelmed by the weight of responsibility. She was insecure because of her age, relative to the rest of the leaders. But now she realized they had more life experience to buoy them when things got rough.

She and Remus watched while Dean, Harry and Justin doused the flaming tree with water. Lavender pouted off to the side.

"How old are you now, Hermione?" he asked, as if reading her thoughts.

"Eighteen."

His lips quirked upwards.

"And a half," she felt like she needed to add.

"And you're making hard decisions with those that are several decades older than you, that have experience to help shoulder the weight of that responsibility. As you've noted in the past, we've all been through a war already, and Dora has several years' experience as an Auror under her belt. What do you have?"

Just her knowledge, her skill, her desire to work hard and her ability to problem solve. All of which were currently failing her as she struggled to throw off the Imperius Curse.

"Your parents' situation is unknown," Remus continued. She had to hold back her tears again. "You're isolated somewhat from us given your age and your mission from Albus. And also from your friends, given your responsibilities and how we hold each other to secrecy." He turned to face her. "It's a lot to deal with."

"It is," she agreed and pressed the balls of her hands into her eyes.

He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder and peered down at her. "If you need someone to talk to, about anything, Dora and I are here for you. You don't have to feel alone."

"Thank you," Hermione sniffed, and nodded. She'd have to remember that. "I think… I think I'm also scared of letting Tonks down. It makes it harder to practice with her."

"Why's that?"

"Because I already disappointed her."

Was currently disappointing her.

It wasn't just keeping her in the dark about Draco's knowledge of the Nott raid. Although Tonks hadn't ordered her not to pursue a relationship with Draco, she knew it was a bad idea and that Tonks disapproved. Hermione was actively defying Tonks, and Tonks knew it. But Hermione had accidentally outmaneuvered her and there wasn't much that could be done about it at this point. She could barely look her in the eyes anymore, let alone throw off her Imperius.

"You're not the only one who has disappointed my wife." Remus chuckled, obviously speaking from experience. "She's got a temper, 'eh?"

Hermione laughed and rubbed her eyes. "It's not just that I'm afraid of her yelling at me – which I am –" Remus chuckled again. "But it's personal. She's really taken the time to mentor me and I've been doing well…" she looked down at her feet. "just not with this."

"So how about we practice throwing off the curse, just you and me? No fear of disappointing my wife."

She smiled gratefully up at him. "Alright."

Remus held out his wand and then paused.

"You know Hermione, everyone in leadership has something different to contribute. But there's no doubt in my mind that the Order is doing as well as it is now because you are part of it."

ooooooooooooo

Jugson grunted in approval as Draco's hexes hit the dummy, one after another, even though it was charmed to move. To his satisfaction, he had improved quite a bit. Draco deflected the curses that bounced back from the reflective charm, hardly ever missing his target.

"Your spoiled, pasty arse works pretty hard," Jugson commented in his gruff voice.

Draco stopped hexing the dummy. He wiped the sweat off his brow and slicked his hair back as Jugson eyed him up and down.

It was a war. What choice did he have? If time allowed it, Draco trained every day trying to get better.

Jugson had been stopping by the Manor every so often. Sometimes working with him and his father on Ministry dealings, sometimes giving Draco pointers. Whenever Jugson stopped by, he'd make a few comments, correct his technique, and invariably put Draco through something incredibly painful.

At the end of it all, Draco was grateful for the help and had improved dramatically since Hermione had first chewed him out at Trafalgar Square. His father had also trained him to duel over the past few years, but the senior Malfoy's style was more classical. Lucius had been more focused on complex, dark spells designed to maim and kill and break through shields.

Jugson fought dirty. He didn't care for show, just getting the job done. Jugson was just as likely to employ spells first years used to prank each other as he was an Unforgivable.

When Draco thought back to his state of mind last summer, he couldn't believe how stupid he had been. Just letting the time go by, waiting for something to happen, anything to happen. His only goal had been to keep his head down in the hopes of surviving the day without being tortured, without his parents being tortured, or any of them being killed.

Not once had it crossed his mind that if he honed his dueling skills, he could train himself to be as good as some of the other Inner Circle members. If Draco was more valuable to the Dark Lord, he would be less vulnerable. As would his parents. And he could defend himself better in raids, whether it was from Order members or Death Eaters.

Lovegood had caught him off guard back when they raided her house. She was good. Probably because she had been training in Dumbledore's Army for two years at least. He had no doubt she would have defeated him if he hadn't had Jugson and MacNair with him at the time. A pang of guilt made his stomach twist as he thought of Lovegood sitting in squalor in their dungeons.

And he let Hermione believe she was murdered.

The Order would say he violated their trust again. And Hermione would hate him, she wouldn't understand. Or maybe she would?

Hermione had pointed out how apathetic he had been. Complacent. She had pushed him to start taking control of his life. He didn't know how at the time, but he was now. Slowly. But he didn't know how to dig himself out from the hole he created with Lovegood.

Becoming more valuable on the battlefield was at least something he had control over. His chances of staying alive were better. He was helping the Order win by helping find those evil objects Hermione needed. And he had Hermione. She was something he had chosen for himself.

Draco was still being used, but there were aspects of his life he had control over. Important ones. And he had Hermione to thank for that.

"Okay Malfoy," Jugson leered at him. "Time to learn how to fight."

Draco glared at him. "The fuck have I been doing this whole time?"

Jugson abruptly stomped up to him, pushed his chest into Draco's, knocking him back a few paces and sneered in his face. He was as tall as Draco, but broader, larger, and much, much stronger. It wasn't hard for Jugson to intimidate by physical presence alone.

"Hex me," Jugson barked at him.

Draco stared back, wary. He didn't know what was coming but he had a feeling he wasn't going to like it. He took a step back and raised his wand but before he could cast anything he was flat on his back, staring up at the clear, blue sky, ears ringing.

Jugson appeared in his view, leaning over him with a twisted smile on his face. "Tell Narcissa you got that shiner from falling off your broom."

Draco blinked. Jugson's punch hadn't hurt at first, but now he could feel pain spreading from the bone around his eye and back up through his skull. He winced and pushed himself up to a sitting position, now dizzy and swaying slightly. After the Quidditch pitch and Jugson stopped moving, he slowly stood up, tenderly touching his cheek bone.

He grimaced. Fuck. It killed.

Something flew in his direction and he automatically caught it, grateful for having trained as a Seeker.

"Good," Jugson growled. "No one will wait for you to lick your wounds, Malfoy."

Draco looked down, it was a broken broom handle.

"What's this for?"

"If you're in close quarters, you won't be able to use your wand." Jugson pointed to the broken broom handle in Draco's hand. "Best have another weapon so you don't break your knuckles on someone's skull. You won't be able to use your wand if you do and then you're finished."

Draco's head was throbbing. If there were any broken bones from that punch, they certainly weren't Jugson's.

Jugson closed in on him again and crossed his arms across his chest.

"Wand in one hand, weapon in the other. Use both."

Draco held his wand in his left hand, finger extended as Jugson taught him. He threw the broom handle, flipping it in the air and catching it with his right hand. He wiped the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve. One good whack with it would knock someone out. He could break someone's collar bone. He could shove the broom handle in someone's throat. Up through their jaw. Into their eye.

Jugson was right. The wand was good for attacks at a distance where you had time and space to cast. Up close you'd likely end up with your wand broken and yourself on the floor, like Draco just had been.

He glanced at Jugson apprehensively. "What if I hit you?"

A smile slowly spread across his face. "I'd like to see you fucking try."

Chapter end notes:

Next chapter - more smut.