Sorry for the delay guys. I was sick this entire week (not COVID).
Chapter 70
Hermione drifted in and out of consciousness. Her body was numb and she couldn't move either. Briefly, she saw flashes of Mary's face over hers, brows furrowed in concentration. Sometimes Cho's face appeared instead. She wondered where Terry was. For a moment she could have sworn she saw Mary and Cho crying and hugging each other. She had never seen Mary cry before.
It was hard to think.
Later Hermione heard murmuring. She strained to listen – it was Harry and Molly speaking with Mary, but she couldn't hear what they were saying, and only made out snippets.
"–words carved on her–"
"–survived after the Cruciatus–"
"–time for skin to regrow on her thigh and stomach–"
"–bones broken?"
"–always have heavy scarring–"
"–how long before she–"
Who were they talking about? She tried to open her eyes to tell them she was awake, but her lids were so heavy, and she fell back asleep.
Hermione wasn't sure how much time had passed. The worried faces of Ron and Ginny, the Weasleys, Harry, and Minerva appeared and disappeared in her fog. She knew not all the Weasleys came, and that it was important some were missing. But she couldn't remember why, and couldn't remember which ones weren't there.
But Draco was safe. She remembered she hadn't failed him. Or Harry.
She smelled something warm and comforting… babies. Instantly, she felt secure and loved. She would have smiled if she had any control over her facial muscles. The disembodied voices of Mary and Tonks sounded above her.
"–warned you that you'd lose your eye–"
"–not going to let Harry go alone–"
"–if you hadn't Apparated–"
"–had to bring her back–"
"–too late to repair–"
"–didn't stop Alastor from–"
She couldn't quite understand the verbal volleying back and forth. Although they sounded angry, Hermione could sense there was no real animosity behind the words. But that changed quickly.
"–get her a fucking specialist, Mary–"
"–already told you I have a colleague–"
"–alive because of her–"
"–aware of that, Tonks. I said I'd bring–"
Their voices were getting louder, dragging Hermione out of her blissful haze. She tried to speak but her tongue was thick and heavy in her mouth.
"–children fighting a war–"
"Young adults. Muggle militaries enlist–"
"–hardly paragons of morality–"
"–sodding superiority complex–"
"–only eighteen. You're teaching them to kill and look at her! Hermione shouldn't have to–"
"Who will protect them if they can't do it themselves? You-Know-Who doesn't care how old they are."
"It's indiscriminate. You didn't have to blow up the houses, Tonks. His army isn't the Order. They're not all volunteers."
"We can't win a war with clean hands, Mary. Shall I Obliviate your colleague when he's finished so you can keep yours pristine?"
"No. I already agreed, I'm already culpable. I'll do it."
Hermione's head was beginning to pound.
"Hmmmuuuh–" She tried to open her eyes.
Immediately the two women ceased their verbal sparring. She blinked at the bright lights of the Dorchester safe house infirmary and immediately shut them again.
"Hermione?" she heard Tonks' desperate cry.
She squinted again to keep the light out, and saw Tonks' blurry face leaning over her. She had an eye patch, and a gash across her forehead, eye and cheek. Before she could ask anything further Mary's face replaced Tonks'.
Peering into Hermione's eyes, Mary's brows pressed together. "Not yet, Hermione."
Mary tapped her wand to her forehead and everything faded to black again.
"–woke her up with your yelling–"
"–my yelling?" Tonks paused, and choked out a sob.
"I'm so sorry, can't imagine–"
"–no time to mourn–"
"–need help with Teddy–"
"–thanks, but my parents–"
Hermione returned to blissful silence.
Sometime later she felt someone holding her hand.
"–can't believe they were taken–"
"–would have been more if–"
"–never seen Tonks in a fight before–"
"–bloody insane–"
It was Ron and Harry. She squeezed the hand holding hers.
"She moved!"
"Hermione? Are you awake?"
"Mary! She's awake!"
Footsteps rapidly approached. Her heart thudded rapidly. Was Bellatrix coming back?
Hermione recalled the feel of Bellatrix's blade cutting through her skin, carving letters, peeling parts away and she shuddered involuntarily at the memory. More images returned to her of that blade in the poor wand light, Bellatrix's smiling lips, her flashing eyes, her gleaming teeth. She had never felt so helpless in her life; completely unable to defend herself while her body was opened and Crucio'd.
Bellatrix cackled from above.
"She keeps trying to wake up, but it's too soon."
She gritted her teeth and began to hyperventilate.
"Mary, she's having trouble breathing!"
"Yes, I told you, it's too soon. Let her sleep."
Unable to move, she could see the knife blade cutting into her thigh. Releasing an agonized, low pitched whine, she tried to struggle in her bed, trying to get away, gasping for breath. She couldn't move! No one could help her!
A wand tapped her head and immediately her muscles relaxed as a state of near bliss settled over her, and Bellatrix faded away.
oooooooooooooooooo
"Please my lord," Travers screamed. "I've done nothing! Nothingggaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh!"
Legilimency had failed, torture had failed. Travers continued to deny his role as the spy among the Dark Lord's army. It was only death that awaited him now.
Draco watched as the Inner Circle took turns casting the Cruciatus Curse. They stood around Travers while his beaten and bloody body writhed on the floor, helpless. His agonized shrieks echoed off the ceiling. Draco didn't know who had interrogated Hermione aside from his aunt, but it could have been Travers. It could have been any of them. Travers was simply unlucky enough to have left his cloak unattended.
"This is what we do to blood traitors," the Dark Lord hissed, walking around the outside of the circle. "This is what we do to those that betray our cause." He raised his wand and added a curse of his own.
Draco couldn't be sure, but the Dark Lord's Cruciatus seemed weaker than usual. The reduced power was more noticeable when Draco wasn't screaming on the receiving end of it.
Draco's Cruciatus wasn't weak. Quite the opposite.
His imagination ran wild. Thoughts of his aunt giving Hermione the bruises he had healed, carving the words on her body or flaying her stomach and thigh were more than enough fodder for an effective Cruciatus. His curse was significantly stronger than when he had tortured MacNair or the Order members, and when it was his turn he didn't disappoint. Ever since he saw Hermione, bloody and battered, he'd been consumed with fury and no outlet for release.
The Dark Lord noticed the surge in power and raised his hand to stop the next person. "Again, Draco."
"Crucio!"
His hatred and desire for revenge blended with his magic, thrumming throughout his body while he held the curse in place. He felt stronger than he ever had before. Travers screamed until he released the curse with a dizzying rush. His aunt smiled as if she were the one responsible for his personal growth.
Draco returned her sinister grin.
You're next.
"Again, Draco," the Dark Lord's voice was a soft caress.
Draco lost Tracey Davis in the explosions, and Vince and Millie were convalescing. His father was recovering from a burn injury as well. Some Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs in his year had died. They were all cannon fodder in this fucking war for a sodding half-blood using brainwashed pure-bloods to amass power for a cause he probably didn't even believe in himself.
It was insane. This whole fucking war was insane and he hated them all.
"Crucio!" Draco's deep voice echoed off the walls.
Travers screamed again and the Dark Lord nodded in satisfaction. Sweat broke out on Draco's forehead with the exertion of holding the spell. Aunt Bella would suffer for what she did. Travers would suffer for what he did. They all would. He would make them pay. Draco's arm quivered with the force of magic pulsing through his body, towards his wand, and bursting outwards in a jet of red light.
"Again," the Dark Lord whispered in the silence following the screams.
"Crucio!"
The curse was more powerful now. His rage crept into his muscles and wrapped around his sinews and ligaments like icy tentacles. Draco could still feel the trembling in Hermione's limbs and the mutilated skin on her body as he tried to heal what he could. He remembered Tracey and Vince on fire. He smelled burnt flesh. He saw Millie struggling with wood embedded in her thigh. He recalled the shuddering hug from his father after the raid, knowing how close they had each come to death.
Travers' screams echoed in his ears and Draco grit his teeth, his breath coming out in sharp exhalations. Travers contorted his limbs and Draco twisted his mouth into an evil grin.
"Again," the Dark Lord hissed.
Travers screamed and continued to plead his innocence. But it was no use. The Dark Lord knew there was a spy, and a spy had been found. Travers dug his fingers into the stone floor and blood streamed from his ears, nose and mouth. Draco's grin widened maniacally at the pleas and he cursed Travers again.
His body was throbbing, and he grunted with pleasure while fury squeezed his limbs.
Noticing how the curse thrilled him, Alecto sauntered over and reached out to stroke his chest. He growled and shoved her away violently. She stumbled back, falling to the floor and gasped at Draco's brutal rejection. Slowly, he turned to gaze down at her and grinned wolfishly. Her bottom lip trembled in terror.
Next.
"Leave Draco be," admonished the Dark Lord. He waved his hand in Draco's direction. "Continue."
"Crucio!"
The dark and sinister magic of the Cruciatus seeped into Draco's bones and curled around his spine. He threw his head back, laughing while Travers writhed on the ground in agony.
"Again."
Broken, bloody, beaten and burnt.
He breathed in his hatred, and it pulsed through his body. With an exhale, he released it.
"Crucio!"
Travers screamed again, he sounded inhuman.
"Again."
Draco's eyes widened. "Sectumsempra!"
Travers arched his back as large, deep gashes suddenly broke across his chest and torso. The blood splattered up, gushing out, and pooled on the floor surrounding him.
Draco chuckled darkly.
"Crucio!"
Travers screamed one last horrible, gurgling wail before falling silent forever. Draco's laughter finally died down and he turned to receive the Dark Lord's approval with a deranged smile.
Next.
"Well done," the Dark Lord praised him softly. "Young Malfoy."
ooooooooooooooo
Harry and Ron were on either side of Hermione's hospital bed when Mary finally allowed her to wake. Her whole body ached, but her head was clear. Ron held her hand, and she was so relieved to see their faces. She knew they were alive and well, having recalled them coming in and out of the infirmary to visit her, but it was reassuring to be with them now that her brain wasn't muddled. The downside was that she started to have nightmares about Bellatrix cackling, brandishing her knife, and her eyes flashing evilly.
"We thought we lost you," Harry croaked, his green eyes were unusually bright and glassy. Rimmed with red from crying.
"You didn't," she smiled weakly at him. Speaking was still difficult despite Mary's treatment.
"You look so much better now," Ron told her, tears brimming in his eyes. He played with her fingers and she squeezed his in return.
She wondered if any of his family was taken, and tried to remember who she had seen during that state when she was not quite aware of her surroundings.
"Who's gone?" She closed her eyes. The lights were bright and burned her.
"Charlie and Fred."
Her throat felt like it had something large in it she couldn't swallow. Charlie and Fred. She remembered Fred and George presenting Colin with the gag T-shirt after he got injured in a raid. Then she recalled how he and George sang Happy Birthday to Eloise even though it wasn't her birthday, and blew up the candles with her outside.
Fred.
Hermione squeezed Ron's hand as tears formed, leaving a trail down her cheek.
She turned to him and squinted, trying to re-adjust to the light. "We'll get them back."
"From Azkaban?" He bent over, resting his elbow on his knee, and shook his head. She watched his tears fall to the tile floor of the infirmary with loud plops. "It doesn't seem likely."
"Remus," Harry continued.
No.
Her stomach heaved as if punched. What would they do without Remus? She shifted her gaze towards Harry and squinted again from the light. More tears ran down the side of her face and entered her ear, tickling the inside.
"Oh."
A weak, completely inadequate reply. Remus who always had good advice and encouraged her. Remus who taught her to throw off the Imperius, that it was okay to admit to self-doubt, and that it was okay to fail, so long as one learned from one's failures. Who grounded the rest of the leaders, balancing the different needs of the Order, keeping them in line and focused on the larger goal.
Remus was one of the first she warned. He must have stayed to help others evacuate, like Tonks. They didn't have a leader now. Who would replace him?
And… Her eyes shot open.
"He's the Secret Keeper!" Her outburst caused a jolt of pain in her leg and she grimaced, trying not to move. The sharp burn in her thigh receded to a dull ache again.
"He's dead," was Harry's toneless answer. "Tonks said he would have killed himself. He had the means to."
Remus was as much a mentor to Harry as Tonks was to Hermione. She knew he was feeling his loss acutely, and looked to Remus as a father figure as much as he did Arthur Weasley, given how close Remus was with his real father.
Teddy was now fatherless. She sniffed and more tears spilled down her cheeks. Tonks was a single mother.
"Is Tonks alright?" she choked out.
In spite of everything, Tonks came with Harry to ensure she got back safely.
Harry wiped his eyes with his sleeve. "Functioning? Yeah. 'Alright' isn't the word I would use."
There must be a lot more. Fourteen and she only knew of Remus, Charlie and Fred.
Hermione tried to shift her weight and get more comfortable. It was impossible, her entire body hurt.
Harry took a deep breath; she knew she wouldn't want to hear who he said next.
"Luna."
Her heart crumpled. Again. Luna was taken again. She stayed at Hogwarts to give strength to the younger students, and after months in the Malfoy dungeons, she joined the Order, proving her worth on missions.
It all felt so pointless.
"Parvati. Terry."
No wonder Mary and Cho were crying. She remembered Hannah threatening Terry for badmouthing Hufflepuffs while badgers raced around the walls of Dorchester safe house. Happier times. Before Hannah's torture replaced her love with hatred, and the raid took Terry away.
Harry rattled off the rest of the names, looking as dejected and exhausted as she felt. There were Order members missing that she wasn't particularly close to, but she felt the loss all the same. Their numbers were small enough as it was; the raid was a crippling blow.
She bit her lip and more tears left her eyes. "How?" It was difficult to speak, and her back ached.
Ron wiped his eyes. "That second raid during the party – remember?" she nodded. "We all evacuated, we think that's when they nabbed our hair from Westchester. They would have had all the time they needed."
Hermione couldn't help but appreciate the well thought out strategy. Using one raid which they knew would fail to set up the real one. She recalled seeing Harry in the bathroom before she was caught. And then herself.
"Must have been a lot of confusion," she commented, blinking away her tears.
"Yeah. There was," Ron agreed, his voice raspy from crying. "Two Freds. Two Georges. It would have worked too, had you not warned everyone. Cambridge and Haverhill safe houses didn't even lose anyone. Lavender and Dean blew them up along with the Bath warehouse, so we got some of those cunts."
Hermione wondered if Draco lost any of his friends. Or his father. She wondered if Draco got caught, and then recalled how he didn't even make an attempt at stealth on the way out of Azkaban. Everyone had seen him in the Ministry, and later on in the Leaky Cauldron.
She hoped he'd be able to kill–
"Oh no!" she rasped, clutching her sheet. Her hands burned at the motion. "The Sword of Gryffindor–"
"Don't worry," Ron answered, and she released her grip on the blanket, wincing in pain. "After two days I returned to get your bag with Harry's invisibility cloak."
She sighed in relief, grateful that she could count on them. Ron ran his thumb gently over her knuckles and Harry rubbed her upper arm lightly. They sat in silence with their grief for a few moments.
"The Death Eater that brought you back," Ron asked, leaning back against his chair. "He's the spy you're shagging? And he'll kill Nagini?"
She nodded warily, happy that Ron already processed the information. "Yes."
"How long has he been working for us? How did you meet him?"
She sighed, peering into his sad, blue eyes. "When we got Mary."
"But – but I was there!" Ron exclaimed, his surprise briefly replacing his sadness. He looked up to Harry. "Did you know?"
Harry shook his head, but didn't appear surprised by Ron's realization.
"Mmmm," Hermione answered with a mirthless laugh at the memory. "You thought it was a terrible idea." She tried to push herself up but couldn't. "Harry approved."
Harry raised an eyebrow and adjusted her pillows, helping her sit up at an angle to speak with them. The newly grown skin on her stomach and thigh burned with the motion and she grimaced.
"You Obliviated us," Harry replied.
"You agreed to it," she spoke slowly, defensively. Her words were slurred from exhaustion and pain medications. Raising herself up at an angle disoriented her slightly.
"I can't believe you kept him a secret all this time," Ron said, his voice low. "That was over a year ago."
"Had to," she explained apologetically. It was getting harder to speak. "He'd be killed. Can you ask–" she coughed. "Mary–" She could barely get out her sentence.
"Mary!" Ron called out across the infirmary. She and Cho were trying to keep busy, silently cataloguing their inventory of potions, herbs and other ingredients.
Mary walked over, brow creased with grief and worry. Wordlessly, Hermione pointed to her throat. Mary gently pressed her wand into her skin at the side of neck and a soothing sensation spread from inside her larynx and throughout.
"Thank you," Hermione said, grateful to be able to speak again.
Mary smoothed back the greying hair coming out of her bun. "Five minutes and no more visitors," she admonished Ron and Harry. "She needs rest and shouldn't be speaking at all right now."
"Yes, Mary," they answered. The Trio eyed the Healer as she went back to Cho, who started crying again. Mary brought her into a hug, tightly pressing her hands into Cho's back.
"Who is it?" Ron asked. "You may as well tell us now."
"He loves you." Harry spoke softly. He didn't sound like he was asking a question. "I could tell when I came to get you."
Hermione glanced over at Harry. "He does."
"Ironic, isn't it?" he continued tonelessly. "If he hadn't just saved your life, I would have decked the tosser right then and there."
Hermione looked at him, and he stared right back, waiting for her to react. Harry knew.
He must have recognized Draco's voice despite the mask and robes. No one could drawl 'Potter' with as much contempt as Draco could. He'd been doing it for years. Hermione should have known it would be a dead giveaway.
"What? You know who it is? Who is it?" Ron repeated, his hands twitching. "Enough secrets, Hermione. You've been holding back on us for a long time."
Harry was quiet, and then raised his eyebrows. "How about you trust us with the information this time around?"
She sighed in resignation. Damn Harry. He still felt resentful that she didn't ask them about including Draco in the Horcrux hunt. And he was right about it. Ron may as well know too. It would all come out soon enough. They were so close to the end.
"Okay," she whispered.
Hermione opened her eyes. Harry peered down at her, his Adam's apple bobbed.
"But he tortured you at the Manor."
She shifted her gaze to Ron as he put the pieces together. "Malfoy?" Ron choked out.
Hermione tightened her fingers around Ron's so he wouldn't leave. "He saved me from Bellatrix. That Cruciatus was nothing."
"You chose Malfoy over me?" Ron's voice lowered resentfully.
"It's not like that," Hermione sighed, closing her eyes again. Her body was starting to throb again with the exertion of being awake. Mary was right, she needed to rest more. She didn't have the energy for a blow up with Ron. And he was already distraught from Charlie and Fred being captured.
"He was in the doorway of the ballroom when we left with Hannah, Luna and Oliver," Harry recalled.
"He was," Hermione confirmed, grateful to Harry for stepping in. He hated refereeing between her and Ron, but he was good at it.
"That's right," Ron said, looking up at Harry over her, momentarily distracted. "I thought we were going to get caught for sure when I saw him. I nearly hexed him."
"Now you know."
"What else did he do?" Ron asked, curiosity taking over his anger and sadness.
Hermione sighed. Her words were slurring but she managed to get them out. "He warned us about the taboo, the Veritaserum, he brought manor plans, the Nott blood." Their eyes widened as she continued on down the list. It was long. She started to feel dizzy from talking so much. "Warned us about Minerva and Hagrid, said Wembley was a trap," she looked pointedly at Harry, "he saved your life there, Harry. He got the tiara out of Hogwarts, and he rescued me."
Draco walked right into Azkaban and faced down Dementors for her. He could have blown his cover; he could have gotten both of them killed. But he did it anyway. She hoped he was safe.
Tonks ensured she had another Galleon to communicate with him but she hadn't had the chance yet. Hermione wondered how Voldemort was investigating her rescue from Azkaban, and then realized Draco had framed Travers in the process. That explained why he hadn't made any attempts at stealth on the way out.
She wasn't sure how she felt about Draco causing the torture and murder of someone else. She had a hard time feeling sorry for Travers. He was Inner Circle, and a completely terrible person. But she was grateful Draco was able to rescue her, and felt worse regarding the effect on Draco's conscience than what his actions meant for Travers' fate.
Hermione was surprised at her lack of remorse for Travers. Before the war, she would have at least felt somewhat guilty.
She brought her thoughts back to Harry, and watched while he pieced the bits of information together. "And Malfoy told you about the raid," he replied. "That's how you were able to warn everyone else."
She nodded, still slurring her words. "All the raids."
"That's… quite a lot." Ron glanced down at her in disbelief. "Are you saying I owe the bouncing ferret my life?"
Harry huffed a mirthless laugh. "I guess we all do. Fucking hell, he's…" He ran a hand through his hair in disbelief. "He's been invaluable."
"Mmm," Hermione replied, and closed her eyes.
"And he's going to kill Nagini?" Ron asked, incredulous.
"Mmm," she answered. She couldn't sleep. Not yet. She had one last thing to say. She had almost died and Harry wouldn't know.
"Aren't you worried You-Know-Who will make more Horcruxes when he sees Nagini killed?" Ron asked. "He might figure out we've destroyed the others once he sees she's dead."
"He won't," Hermione whispered, and opened her eyes. This was it.
"How do you know?" Harry furrowed his brow at her.
Hermione took a deep breath to steady herself. The secret she had been keeping for so long weighed on her, hurting her chest. But just as with Draco, she had to tell Harry now for better or for worse. Fresh tears spilled out as she peered up at him.
"Harry, give me your hand." He glanced down at her apprehensively but reached up and took the hand that was resting on her stomach. Coughing, she nearly choked on her tears. Her head pounded with the movement and she waited for the dizziness to fade. Harry and Ron watched her patiently while she struggled to speak. "The last time You-Know-Who made a Horcrux, it was by accident and he lost his body. His soul is split into eight pieces, not seven."
Harry jerked back. "You mean, he made a Horcrux when he killed my mum?"
She shook her head and winced at the motion. "No, when he tried to kill you."
"So we have to destroy another Horcrux at Godric's Hollow?"
Hermione squeezed Harry's hand and more tears flowed. She shook her head, and heaved a sudden, sharp sob, gazing up at him, pleading that he would understand. His face fell at the exact moment he realized the implication of her confession.
"I'm the final Horcrux," he said softly, eyes wide with the realization.
"How can you be sure?" Ron asked, panic edging into his voice.
"In Fractured Souls, it explained Harry's connection to You-Know-Who. Like Nagini's."
"I read that book too, Hermione." Harry glared down at her, betrayal flashed in his green eyes. "Cover to cover."
Hermione knew he would be angry. Harry hated the way Dumbledore kept him in the dark fifth year and she had done the exact same thing. Neither she nor Dumbledore gave him a choice regarding the knowledge of his fate. But what Hermione did was worse, because this was the second time it happened. She knew how much it would hurt Harry, she saw how he perceived Dumbledore blocking him out as a betrayal, and she chose to hide information from him anyway.
And then there was the issue of her not trusting them and their judgement when she expected their trust in return.
"I removed the pages," her voice trembled and tears streamed out of her eyes. "I didn't want you to know until we were ready to kill him."
"You kept that from me all this time?" Harry released her hand, glaring down as if he barely knew her. "Malfoy, I can understand. But this? This is my life, Hermione! I have a right to know!"
"Harry, please!" Hermione pleaded, and her thigh burned as she tried to keep talking through her tears. She grimaced in pain. "I didn't want you to think you had to die. Durmstrang was over a year ago."
Harry turned away from her, fuming, and got up to leave.
"Harry, wait," Ron chastised him, still half in shock from her revelation. "Not after what she just went through. Not after everyone we just lost. Stay and talk."
Hermione looked at Ron, surprised and grateful for his defense. She didn't expect him to intervene like that, clearly not giving him enough credit for how he'd matured.
Harry glanced over his shoulder and exhaled sharply through his nose. "I'm glad you're alive and back with us Hermione, more than you know." He pushed his chair back with a screech on the tiled floors. "But I need some time alone. Our time's up anyway."
He stalked out the door.
"Fucking hell," Ron said in disbelief.
She and Ron watched him leave in silence. Ironic that it was Ron that had stayed with her. She thought he would have stormed out after hearing about Malfoy. He had grown up, and Susan was good for him.
"Hey," Ron said, squeezing her hand lightly. She turned to stare into his concerned blue eyes. "I think you did the right thing. I would have done the same. I'll talk with him later, and stay until you fall asleep."
"Thanks Ron. That means a lot."
He wiped the tears from her eyes with his thumb and gave her a sad smile.
Next up: The prisoners.
Two more chapters of pain, then the fun starts. Hang in there guys.
