Chapter 67
September 1998
Ever since Draco told Hermione there was a spy, Tonks had silently been taking the Order members away individually for interrogation with Veritaserum, removal from the Imperius Curse if necessary, checking for signs of Obliviation, and instructing them to tell no one. After each one was cleared, Hermione modified their Portkeys to transport them to the camp site Remus was setting up with the aid of a few others.
The plan was to abandon the safe houses and evacuate as soon as the necessary supplies and protections were in place. But they couldn't do it until they found the spy, and Remus had to be careful – setting up the campsite without the spy catching on.
Everyone was tense, but morale was still high despite the terror looming over their heads. Combat training proceeded as usual and leadership did their utmost best to proceed as if nothing was amiss. They even had an impromptu party to cover up the fact that 15 Order members had left with Remus to help set up the tents and transport accumulated supplies.
It was terrifying, knowing that the enemy was among them. Stressed beyond belief, all of Hermione's waking hours were devoted to the complex Arithmancy based magic to repurpose Portkeys once Tonks gave her approval. Scared and exhausted, she had been working non-stop, sleeping little, and often times passing out over her lab bench.
Tonks hadn't been sleeping much either. At the last leadership meeting they exchanged exhausted glances, each with bags under their eyes. Up until then she had felt lonely, working by herself. But Tonks rubbed her back, trying to give her support, and she instantly felt a kinship with the woman who shouldered so much. Hermione could always lean on her.
"It'll be alright, Hermione. We're doing everything we can, we'll make it. I'm halfway there, and so are you."
She smiled weakly, and Tonks continued, squeezing her upper arm affectionately.
"I want you to go to bed early, and sleep as long as you have to. We're each going to start making mistakes if we continue like this."
"But–" she protested.
"We know we have more time," Tonks answered, running her hand over her face. "The raid won't happen tonight. Or tomorrow. Or the day after that."
Hermione raised her eyebrows curiously. "How do you know?"
"Draco's friends haven't been recruited yet, have they? He's been worried about that since graduation and there's been non-stop talk this summer of crushing the Order with their far superior numbers."
"They have the superior numbers."
"Yes and no. Not enough to crush us. Not yet. But they will."
Hermione didn't know how Tonks had any brain cells left with so little sleep.
"Oh."
"So sleep tight, yeah? Rest that mind of yours. We need it."
Hermione eyed her suspiciously. "Are you going to?"
Tonks gave her a warm smile. "Yes, Hermione. Everyone is going to bed early. We've been racing at breakneck speed and we all need it. No more Wide-Eye Potion tonight. We'll start up again tomorrow, late afternoon."
"Thank you."
Tonks morphed her nose and mouth to a duck bill and Hermione huffed an exhausted laugh.
The older witch pointed at her. "Never fails."
"It's loads better than that evil clown face."
oooooooooooo
Minerva was aiding Tonks with the interrogations, the Order was secretly preparing the secure camp site, and despite the much needed rest, Hermione felt like she was running as fast as she could in a race she couldn't hope to win.
She was empty inside, and she missed Draco. But despite it all, she sighed in relief. Not just fifteen minutes ago, she completed all the Portkeys Tonks had confirmed for her. Not knowing what else to do with herself, and too tired to go anywhere, she stared absently at the equation covered parchments in front of her when Harry and Ron burst through the door of the potions lab.
"We brought beans!" Ron called out, startling her from her daze. "And toast! Brings back the early days!"
Hermione snorted, despite how numb she felt after working so hard for so many consecutive days. "Really? Of all the things you– Ooooooh!"
Ron was carrying a sack filled with something. But Harry brought in a platter of bread pudding, homemade dinner rolls, butter, sliced brisket, a colorful chopped salad and the creamiest mashed potatoes Hermione had ever seen.
Her mouth started to water. "Fresh from Molly Weasley's kitchen?" she guessed, barely able to suppress the tears of joy.
"She knows how hard you've been working," Harry explained, setting the plates, bowls and cutlery down for her. "All holed up in here with only the Ravenclaws to bother you on occasion."
Ron pushed her parchments aside so she'd have more room.
"Are you sure we can't help you, Hermione?" Ron asked. "We could uh…" He peered at the complex equations written over an expanse of several feet of parchment. "Sharpen your quills? Refill your ink well?"
Harry surveyed the parchments over her shoulder. "I'll have you know I am excellent at handling random objects. Fully capable of holding a Portkey while you repurpose it."
Hermione laughed, wiping an errant tear and grabbed a knife and fork to start on the brisket. "I'm actually all caught up now. Waiting for more news from Tonks. This meal looks lovely and I'll likely crash right after I finish. You two want to sit and eat with me? This is enough for three people anyway." She eyed the food in front of her again. "Or one if you're Ron."
Ron tugged on her ponytail affectionately. She swatted his hand away and brought a forkful of meat up to her mouth, but paused mid-bite when she saw the somewhat forlorn expressions on their faces. Something bad happened, they were hiding it by joking around but she could see right through them.
She laid her fork down. "What happened?"
Harry punched Ron in the arm.
"Umf!" he grunted. "I didn't say anything!"
They had the subtlety of a herd of hippogriffs. Feeling apprehensive now, Hermione swiveled on her stool to face them. "What are you hiding? What happened?" She glanced warily at the sack Ron had with him. "What's in the sack, Ron?"
"You should have let her eat first!" Harry chastised him. "She's exhausted!"
"Why are you blaming me?" Ron retorted before turning back to placate her. "Nothing hap–"
"Oh, shut it, Ronald. It's too late now." Hermione twisted her napkin nervously. "What happened?"
The two glanced at each other and their faces fell.
"The good news or the bad news?" Ron asked.
"Just tell me!" She burst out, wanting to get it over with.
"Will you at least eat?" Ron cajoled her, clearly regretful he slipped up. "You can't survive on Wide-eye Potions."
"The snake fangs have calcium and there's plant starches in the Wolfsbane," Hermione countered. "It may not have the calories of a Molly Weasley dinner but it's something."
"Bollocks." Harry picked up her fork and held it up to her mouth. "Eat or we won't tell you."
She narrowed her eyes at him and then opened her mouth obediently. He shoved in the forkful of meat and she chewed. After a few seconds of them watching her eat she held her hands out in expectation and mumbled "Well?" through her chewing.
Ron eyed Harry. "It's a good way to shut her up. Withholding information so she lets us stuff her mou– ow!"
She smacked his arm.
Harry turned to her with a grim look and sighed. "Justin Finch-Fletchley was captured. We think he's probably dead. They've no reason to keep him alive anymore."
Hermione's eyes widened and she swallowed. "What? How?" She didn't know Justin very well. Not as well as she knew Oliver and Seamus. She didn't think Harry and Ron did either. They had never been on raids together and he stayed at Haverhill safe house with some of the other Hufflepuffs.
Harry held up a forkful of meat. She sighed in resignation and let him feed her another bite.
Hermione didn't remember hearing about Justin being captured. And she had just seen him last week. Had the Order gone on a raid? Being so busy and exhausted with repurposing the Portkeys, was it possible she forgot such an important piece of information? She was about to ask when Harry stuffed a spoonful of mashed potatoes in her mouth.
"Tonks had him in for interrogation and he collapsed as soon as she administered the Veritaserum. Dead," Harry clarified.
Hermione stared at Harry, confused, and he took the opportunity to shove more mashed potatoes in her mouth.
"Justin was a Death Eater?" she mumbled while trying to swallow.
That made no sense at all.
Oh.
She was about to correct her assertion when Harry stuck another forkful of brisket in her mouth. Ron voiced her thoughts while she pieced the plot together.
"He was a Polyjuiced Death Eater," Ron said. "The cunt came back in Justin's place during one of our raids so we wouldn't know he was taken."
"Wembley," Hermione closed her eyes, remembering the chaos in the infirmary and Harry and Lavender's brush with death. "They drew us all out on purpose and Justin came back with a small injury. No one noticed because of all the injuries that had to be treated, and we just Apparated him back without question."
"Yeah," Ron agreed with a hollow expression. "Getting captured is my worst nightmare. I'd prefer to be killed. They're all sick fuckers."
Harry shuddered in agreement, but Hermione winced, remembering Dedalus' request that she end his life.
Harry was about to give her a forkful of salad but she pushed his hand away, feeling sick to her stomach at the memory. "I can't Harry."
"Then no more information," he said, raising his eyebrows in challenge.
She sighed and grabbed the fork out of his hand. "Fine, I'll eat." She stabbed the greens in the bowl and tried her best to swallow. "Poor Justin. And none of us knew."
Lavender had noticed something was off with him, but Hermione had brushed off her observations as inconsequential. Hermione remembered the state of Oliver, Eloise and Hannah when they came across them in the dungeons. She cringed, not knowing how they'd find him if he was still alive.
"Wembley was to draw us all out," Ron continued. "They already had Polyjuice prepared."
"So who…?"
And then it all clicked.
"It was Dawlish the whole time," she said, quickly taking a bite from a dinner roll when Harry threatened her with a spoonful of bread pudding. "He could blend in because he'd been around us for months."
Harry nodded. "He's been Polyjuicing himself into Justin since his capture. That's why we never saw him in the Malfoy dungeons. He'd already identified Justin as the target and they waited for the opportunity to take him."
"Why Justin?"
"Justin was our Secret Keeper," Ron replied. "Dawlish found out."
Hermione's eyes bulged. So that's how they knew the locations of all the residential safe houses, and the first raid. Justin must have been the Secret Keeper for the Bath ware house as well. She thought it was Remus, but Remus was the only one who knew the Secret Keeper's identity. Everyone would have assumed the Secret Keeper was Remus.
Dawlish would have assumed that as well – Remus' decision to make their Secret Keeper an inconsequential Order member must have bought them more time. After realizing Remus, Hermione, Minerva and Tonks weren't the Secret Keepers, Dawlish would have had to go through the Order members one by one during combat training.
"Why not attack all the safe houses at once back in March?" she asked.
"Hard to tell. Most likely because they had fewer numbers then and thought capturing me would be enough to defeat the Order," Harry answered with a shrug. "Afterwards, they realized anti-Apparition wards weren't enough to prevent us from escaping during a raid. They couldn't beat our Portkey evacuation plan." He patted Hermione's head affectionately. "So they had to figure out a way around it, and they did."
Hermione turned back to her Arithmancy equations. They found the spy. Which meant…
She groaned inwardly. Sixteen more Portkeys to do. So much for sleep. She was so tired she felt like crying. But at least they could share Portkeys now. There was no danger of a spy tagging along and compromising their new location.
She should message Draco and let him know they found the spy. He had been terrified for her.
Hermione stood up from her stool. "I need to get the remaining Portkeys."
Ron hefted the sack up on the lab bench. "Already collected them for you."
Hermione shoved her food to the side and opened the sack. She looked up at him gratefully, but with tired eyes. "Thanks, Ron." He had done the legwork for her, but she knew she couldn't go to sleep. Or eat. Food would make her sleep. No wonder Harry and Ron were trying to force feed her.
Her heart swelled with love towards them.
"Come on, Hermione," Harry cajoled her. "Molly will get upset if you don't eat more."
She downed another vial of Wide-eye Potion and grimaced at the bitter taste. "The food is too heavy; it'll put me to sleep. I'll take a few bites after each Portkey, okay?"
"We'll come back to make sure you're eating," Ron said, casting a stasis charm on the food so it would stay fresh. "We're all working 'round the clock to prepare the camp site so we can abandon the safe houses as soon as possible. I expect to see some progress on that meal."
She looked up at the two of them gratefully. They both had smiles on their faces, but their eyes were forlorn. Another Order member had probably died a painful death – alone – and the raid was coming.
"I love you both."
Harry squeezed her shoulder.
"Right back at you, 'Mione," Harry said, trying to lighten the mood.
"Stop trying to make 'Mione happen."
Ron chuckled. But his laughter sounded hollow.
ooooooooooo
Minerva entered the potions lab and may as well have been Wonder Woman as far as Hermione was concerned. Hermione burst into tears at her arrival. After some brief instruction from ex-student to ex-Professor, which was received with a look of fond pride on her teacher's face, the two got right to work, finding an easy rhythm. Hermione supposed she shouldn't have been surprised at how well she worked with her ex-Transfiguration teacher. The two women had strong analytical minds suited to the complexities of Arithmancy-based charms.
While they worked, Hermione considered bringing up the issue of Draco's pardon, and Kingsley's political ambitions. Would it be worthwhile to state her case now? Pre-empt whatever Kingsley might have to say? Minerva would never approve of Kingsley's reasoning of that Hermione was certain. Then again, even if she gained her approval now, any mention of Draco's crimes by Kingsley would likely sway the elder Gryffindor against.
No, it was better to go to the source. After they completed the Portkeys, Hermione would figure out a time where she could stake Kingsley's house.
Upon the completion of each Portkey, Harry or Ron delivered it to its rightful owner. Finally, after 72 straight hours of work without sleep and more vials of Wide-eye Potion than Hermione had ever consumed in her life, the Portkeys were finished.
Her shoulders sagged. Minerva eyes were just as bloodshot and rimmed with dark bags as Hermione's must be. "Thanks for your help."
Minerva nodded with a small smile for her ex-student. "A pleasure." The two collected the piles of parchment, stuffed them in an empty cauldron and incinerated them.
Hermione turned to face her ex-Head of House and took a few steps back. "Ready?"
Minerva peered down through her spectacles. "You're not too tired? I can ask Remus."
Hermione shook her head. "It's simple. Only the location related equations."
They pointed their wands at each other's heads. Hermione stared at the tip of Minerva's, and then focused on her teacher's eyes. "On three?"
With a curt nod, her teacher began the countdown and Hermione summoned her last bit of focus from the encroaching exhaustion. "And three… two… one."
"Obliviate!" they said in unison.
Hermione blinked her eyes and suddenly felt dizzy. The room spun and she nearly fell, catching herself on the lab bench. Minerva crashed into her and Hermione caught her arm, pulling her in towards her body so she wouldn't fall.
"We should have done that while sitting," Minerva blinked her eyes, clutching onto Hermione's forearm.
Hermione pushed herself back up and helped her teacher to a standing position. "Next time we repurpose the entire Order's Portkey supply, I'll remember that."
Rubbing her eyes, Minerva huffed a laugh. "You look like you're going to be sick. I want you to go right to bed. That's a direct order from your Head of House."
Hermione nodded and smiled weakly. She didn't need to be told twice. They exited the lab and entered the infirmary waiting room.
"Don't worry, I'll–" She paused to see Harry and Ron sprawled out in chairs, deep in sleep and snoring loudly with their mouths wide open.
Minerva raised an eyebrow. "I was going to suggest that Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley each Side-Along one of us back to our safe houses. However, I'm not entirely certain that it should be them doing the Apparating."
Hermione swayed on her feet and Minerva steered her to a chair to sit. She sunk down and her head lolled to the side, hitting the wall. She was done, they were all safe, they could all evacuate, she could sleep.
"Potter! Weasley!" Minerva called out in her clipped tones, so reminiscent of their school days.
Harry jumped in his chair. "I have my homework professor! But I left it– wait. What?" Hermione smiled at his confusion. Ron blinked his eyes blearily at Harry's outburst. Harry removed his glasses and rubbed his face.
"I trust you two will deliver the remainder of the Portkeys and see Miss Granger back to her bed for a good night's rest?"
Harry looked between the two of them, stretching his long legs. "Of course." He stood up and summoned the sack Portkeys from the workbench. "Do you need a Side-Along Minerva?"
"I'd appreciate it."
Hermione closed her eyes. She could sleep in the infirmary. The chair was comfortable, but Mary would hate her sleeping here. She smiled inwardly. An added bonus.
"And Miss Granger will need your help." She heard Ron jump to action.
"Good night, you two," Minerva's voice trailed away as she headed to the door with Harry.
"Good night, Minerva," Ron echoed. The door to Dorchester infirmary opened and closed as they left.
"I'll sleep here," Hermione slurred, not wanting to get up. "S'fine."
"Bugger that," she heard Ron grumble and was immediately picked up from the chair and cradled to his chest. She turned into his warmth. Hermione didn't care where she was, so long as she didn't have to support her own weight. And being surrounded by tall, warm, male was always comforting.
"Blimey, Hermione. Did you have to eat all the brisket?"
"Piss off," she mumbled into Ron's chest.
Ron chuckled and they exited the infirmary together. It was going to be fine. They were going to be alright. They'd be evacuating soon, and even if the raid happened before they managed to clear the safehouses, it would be alright.
Ron entered the front door of the safe house and ascended the stairs to her room, carrying her without further complaint. She would have refused to be carried but she simply did not have it in her to do anything but breathe.
They entered her room. Lavender wasn't there, probably with Oliver.
She felt herself being lowered to her mattress. Ron released her and turned to go.
"Sleep well, Hermione. You just saved all of us."
"Ron, wait."
She forced her eyes open and dug her Galleon out of her back pocket, handing it to him. "I don't have the energy. Strengthen the warming charm on this – if he communicates with me, I don't want to sleep through it."
Hermione flipped over on her stomach and closed her eyes, shoving her hands under her pillow.
Ron held the Galleon in his palm and increased the intensity of the communication trigger. "Ow!" he dropped the Galleon to the floor. "You won't sleep through that. Honestly, Hermione tell your bloke to wait. He can go a few days without a shag. You need to rest."
He carefully re-inserted the Galleon into her back pocket, trying his best not to touch her arse.
"No," she spoke, her voice muffled by the pillow. "It's the spy. He might warn us."
Ron had turned to leave her room but paused. She had corrected him without thinking.
Bugger.
"You're shagging the spy?"
Hermione was too exhausted. She couldn't think of a good cover, excuse, explanation, anything.
"Yes. Now, go away and let me sleep."
He didn't leave.
"Is this why you broke things off with me?"
She sighed.
"I wasn't shagging him at the time. You and I didn't work well and you're happy with Susan, it doesn't matter anymore and we're both happy, the end." She cracked an eye open. "Please let me sleep."
Ron was staring down at her in thought. But he didn't look angry.
"You're right." A mischievous grin spread on his face. "And I'll get the twenty Galleons."
"The what?"
"Harry, Ginny and I said whoever figures out who you're shagging gets ten Galleons each from the other two." He rubbed his hands together. "They were so sure they'd figure it out before me. Can you tell me who the spy is?"
"No. And don't tell Ginny."
Especially Ginny.
"Please?"
"No."
"I'll give you half my winnings."
"No."
"I'll teach you how to fly a broom properly."
"Why would you even think that's something to bribe me with?"
"I wonder if they'll take 'spy' as an answer since his identify is classified."
"Ron!"
"Sorry, sorry! I'll let you sleep. Your secret is safe with me."
oooooooooo
Draco watched dispassionately as Millie's screams filled his ears. The gut wrenching sound torn from his long-time friend ripped at his heart, but he gazed down at her through his mask as if nothing were amiss. She was on her knees, wearing her newly acquired Death Eater robes. Travers held her in place by the shoulders while her body shook in agony. Bellatrix had a death grip on her arm, long black fingernails digging into Millie's flesh, and an evil smile on her lips. The Dark Lord's wand tip pressed into the inside of Millie's forearm and Draco saw the Dark Mark ripple onto her skin and flash bright red before cooling to black. The Dark Lord removed his wand, took a step back and Millie fell over, passed out on the floor like Daphne, Tracey, Ernie Macmillian and Anthony Goldstein had before her.
There were more new recruits on the floor, a year or two older than them.
He was taking them all, one by one. There would be more tomorrow. And the day after, and the day after that. The Dark Lord was forcing all of the recent Hogwarts' graduates into submission, creating fodder for his army.
Some loyal and eager, some scared and unsure how to avoid their fate. If the new recruits weren't already loyal due to pure-blood politics, the Dark Lord's Death Eaters made them so with coercion, threats and intimidation to themselves and their families.
It was impossible to rebel; it was impossible to run. Adrian Pucey and Lisa Turpin had tried and were Crucio'd for their efforts, along with their parents before receiving the Dark Mark last night.
Although…
No one had found Theo. And not for lack of trying.
Hermione had ensured that his friend was safe for no other reason except that he asked. Despite the horror in front of him, a warmth diffused in Draco's gut. Hermione had hidden his friend, and hidden him well.
Draco didn't know when the raid would happen but this slew of new recruits meant it would be soon. He clenched his fists, trying to suppress his anxiety at what was looming in the near future. At least Hermione had his Portkey. He would warn her as soon as he knew.
The Dark Lord walked around the room, giving a speech about the next generation of Death Eaters which would destroy the resistance and purify the Wizarding world. Everyone murmured in agreement, with the occasional enthusiastic shout punctuating Draco's foreboding. After the Dark Lord was done, everyone began to disperse and his former classmates' parents followed the Dark Lord into another room in order to be debriefed on his new expectations of their families.
Draco was glad MacNair wasn't here anymore, but he stayed regardless, remembering what Alecto had done to him after he took the Dark Mark, and what Rowle had done to Pansy.
Draco hadn't had enough foresight or clout to help Pansy or himself back then. Now he had both.
He gazed across the slumped bodies of his classmates at Greg, whose face was hidden behind his mask. Greg remembered Draco warning him to stay after they received the mark, and he was.
His child-hood friend glanced up and nodded, but said nothing.
Chapter end notes:
I don't want to give away spoilers by giving credit but the Justin/Dawlish plot line was inspired by The Fallout by everythursday.
Next chapter: Hermione confesses.
