In response to the guest reviewers: This story is not abandoned. I WILL finish it. In honour of Jason Issacs's birthday today, here is the latest update in Lucius and Hermione's saga. Enjoy!
~oOo~
The Battle of Hogwarts Part 8
Harry was silent as he rushed back through the tunnel toward the castle, and she found herself unwilling to bring up conversation. She needed to stop, to use her wand and the bracelet to warn Lucius, but Harry was clearly unwilling to wait, and she did not want to lose him in the darkness of the tunnel or in the chaos of the battle above them. They were somewhere between the Shrieking Shack and Hogwarts when they felt the ground shake. She grabbed Harry by the arm, and they both stopped. The tremor knocked loose small bits of dirt and debris from the roof of the tunnel, and she had the sudden fear that whatever this was might cause the tunnel to collapse around them.
The Dark Lord's sibilant voice boomed around them as if it was coming from everywhere and nowhere all at once. She clutched at Harry as she listened.
"You have all fought valiantly...yet you have sustained heavy losses. If you continue to resist me, you will all die, one by one."
They had sustained heavy losses? Hermione frowned as she listened to the tyrant's echoing voice. There had been losses, of course, but from what she had seen of the battle before they'd ventured into the tunnel to the Shrieking Shack, it had appeared as if the Order and its supporters were at least holding their own. Had the situation deteriorated that much in the short time she and Harry had been away from the castle?
The voice continued, and she forced herself to listen.
"Every drop of magical blood spilled a waste our world cannot afford, but I, Lord Voldemort will show you the mercy you do not deserve. I command my forces to retreat immediately, and I shall give you one hour to dispose of your dead with dignity and treat the injured."
She and Harry exchanged glances in the darkened tunnel, waiting for more, for surely there was more.
"To Harry Potter: you have allowed your friends and fellow students to die, rather than face me yourself. You have one hour to come to me in the Forbidden Forest. Should you decline, the battle will begin anew, and I will find you. I will find you, and I will end the life of every man, woman, and child who sheltered you from me. Their blood will be on your hands. You have one hour."
Hermione looked at Harry as the voice faded. He shook his head, a mixture of fear and disgust on his face that she could barely make out in the darkness of the tunnel. Then he took off running again toward the school, dragging her along.
The grounds were deserted, save for a few students and Order members straggling back to the castle, when they emerged from the tunnel, but they covered themselves with the invisibility cloak anyway out of a sense of caution as they approached the school. The courtyard was silent, a mix of snow and rubble and blood as they made their way back into the castle. A triage of sorts had been set up, and she saw Professor Sprout directing people this way and that as limp bodies were levitated in one direction or another. Harry gripped her hand tightly, almost to the point of pain, as they wove around clusters of wizards and witches. Amidst a sea of bodies - the living and the dead - she spied a familiar head of blond hair.
"Malfoy!" his last name was out of her mouth before she could stop herself. It wasn't that she particularly wanted to see the son. No, she much preferred to see his father, but Draco was there, walking out of the Great Hall looking more disheveled than he'd been when she last saw him.
"Granger?"
"Did you find your father?"
He shook his head. "It was nothing but chaos and carnage out there. I couldn't get very far. I sent him a message," he said, holding up his hand to reveal a signet ring on the ring finger of his right hand.
It did not surprise her that Lucius had a private way to communicate with his son. After all, if he was willing to provide her with the bracelet, then of course he'd stay in contact with his only child.
"What did he say?"
Draco looked uncomfortable as he glanced between Hermione and Harry.
"That he'd much prefer that we leave if we can. Portkey out."
"Leave? He wants you to leave?" Harry scoffed.
"I can't leave. I won't leave Harry," she said quickly.
"You think I don't know that, you damned stubborn witch?" Draco spat back. "Besides, I'm not about to leave here without my parents. Father said the Dark Lord is unstable, that he thinks Potter will come to him."
Hermione exchanged glances with Harry.
"We saw him."
"The Dark Lord?"
"Yes, and your father."
Draco interrupted before she could continue.
"And? Is he well? Was my mother there?"
"I didn't see your mother. But your father...yes he, he looked well. Worried, but he didn't look like he'd seen much fighting," she said.
"Where was he?" Malfoy was demanding now, and as much as she disliked the spoiled prat, she knew that he worried about his parents just as Lucius worried about his son.
"The Shrieking Shack. There's a tunnel that leads there from the school grounds. The Dark Lord didn't know we were there. He sent your father away, and… and then… Draco, he killed Professor Snape."
A look of utter shock and horror passed over Draco's face.
"What? WHY? He… he was devoted. I know some thought him weak because he worked for Dumbledore but Severus killed Dumbledore, to prove his loyalty. The Dark Lord commanded it, and he… he did it." His voice trailed off, and Hermione knew he was attempting to hold his emotions in check.
If this was Draco's reaction to the news, then she could only imagine how devastated Lucius would be at the death of his friend. Cognisant of the role she had cast herself in, she touched Draco's upper arm sympathetically, and to her surprise, he reacted not by shoving her away as she'd feared but by hugging her tightly. She could feel a slight tremor in his body as he did so, and she realised that he was well and truly afraid.
Malfoy pulled back from her after a moment, and she could tell he was embarrassed by the show of affection.
"I heard the Dark Lord's message - we all did," he said stiffly to Harry, obviously ready to change the subject. "Do you intend to go to him?"
"Of course not." Hermione said the words automatically for it was insanity to think that Harry would just walk right up to Voldemort and hand himself over. They would gather the Order members, assess the situation, and strategies would be put in place to defend themselves. She had no doubt that Sirius, Remus, Kingsley, and other members of the Order were already sorting out the next phase of battle.
She realised after a moment that Harry had not responded. Draco arched a pale eyebrow at Harry and then at her, silently noting Harry's lack of a response.
"Malfoy, when did you last hear from your father?" Harry asked then.
"It's been some time, likely before you saw him. Why?"
"If you've a way to communicate with him, if he's truly helping us, then find out where old Snake-Face has gathered his army, how many are there, and what they're doing. Get that information to Sirius Black."
"Black? He's here?"
"Yeah, he's somewhere in the castle. Or give that information to Hermione, and she'll get it to the right people."
Harry turned toward the stairs then, and Hermione realised he meant to leave without her.
"Wait! Where are you going?"
Harry lifted the phial he'd collected from their departed former professor.
"I don't know if it's still there, but Dumbledore had a pensieve, in his office, and I need...I don't know what's in this, but I need to see," he said, glancing up at the stairs that led to the headmaster's office. "Whatever it is, it's is obviously important."
"I'll go with you," she said quickly.
"No sense in it. You should stay with Mal- Draco."
Hermione exchange a quick glance with her lover's son, hoping her expression conveyed her desire to go with Harry.
"Granger, go with Potter. Zabini and Davis went down to the dungeons a moment ago to collect potions for Madam Pomfrey. They'll need help with that. Too many injured here to just sit about. And I'll message my father and try to get that information."
Malfoy squeezed her upper arm then, in what she thought was supposed to be a faux gesture of comfort, and she was thankful that he didn't try to kiss her again.
He took off before she could object, and she watched for a moment as he darted for the stairs and headed down. She wondered for a moment if he was genuinely retrieving potions with his Slytherin classmates to assist the mediwitch with the injured and the dying or if he just wanted to find a safe space to wait out the battle. Then again, if she could portkey directly to Lucius's lodge, Draco's ring could probably take him to some other Malfoy property. If Lucius told Draco he wanted them to portkey to safety, Draco surely had the means to do it.
"Well, that settles it then. I'm going with you," she said firmly, moving quickly to catch up with Harry before he could dart up the stairs without her.
It must have been the adrenaline of battle, for they made it to the headmaster's office in seemingly record time, and she was barely out of breath from the stairs. Most of the portraits were empty, including one labeled "Albus Dumbledore." It seemed that even paintings of the dead did not wish to be here on this dark night.
The office was remarkably intact, with only one broken window and a few items knocked from the window sill. It was less cluttered and more austere now than it was during Dumbledore's tenure, owing, she supposed, to Professor Snape's severe aesthetic.
She watched in silence as Harry moved quickly across the room, a grim look on his face. His shoulders sagged in slight relief as he pushed open a hidden cabinet and removed the magical stone basin.
"Thank god it's still here," he muttered as he levitated it to a flat surface and then carefully emptied the phial of Snape's tears.
The crystalline droplets fell into the swirling mist inside the pensieve, and they both stared at the contents.
What on earth could possibly have been so bloody important that Severus Snape used his dying breaths to share? She wondered, knowing that surely Harry had to be thinking the same thing.
Harry turned to look at her, holding out a hand.
"Well?"
"What?" she asked.
He jerked his head toward the bowl.
"We've done almost everything else together the last few months, save for shagging Malfoy. You might as well be part of this too."
She'd read about pensieves, of course, and had been fascinated by the idea that you could magically remove memories from the mind and watch them from a third person point of view. Pensieves were rare though, and very expensive, so she hadn't expected to encounter one at this point in her young life. It was clear as she studied her friend that Harry knew not only what they were but how to use them, and for a brief absurd moment, she was vaguely envious that he'd already experienced this form of magic.
"Are you sure you want me with you?" she asked as she approached the basin.
"Yeah. You, uh, you just stick your face in it. It seems barmy, sticking your face underwater, but it somehow works."
"I've read about them."
A small smile twisted his lips. "I'd expect nothing less. We go together, on three, yeah?"
"Okay."
She stood next to him and for reassurance, reached out and clasped his hand in her own.
"One." He started the count.
"Two," she breathed out.
"Three."
They bent forward together and plunged their faces into the pensieve.
~oOo~
After what felt like an eternity but was in truth no more than a handful of minutes, she and Harry both emerged from the pensieve. Her mind whirred at top speed, trying to make sense of what she'd just witnessed, the many memories of Severus Snape's life.
For a long moment, they both simply stared at each other, neither sure of what to say. Harry stumbled back, sitting down hard on the floor with a thud.
All this time, all along, Severus Snape had been on their side. He'd loved Harry's mum, and in penance for his role in her death, he'd played the role of double agent for years, protecting Harry whilst keeping him at a distance to maintain his cover.
"He… he loved her," Harry whispered, more to himself than to her. He leaned against a nearby bookcase, as if to steady himself.
She stared back at him. Snape's unrequited love for Lily Evans Potter was shocking enough to process on its own. Harder to reconcile was the truly horrific memory of Snape telling Dumbledore that Harry would have to die, that Harry was almost certainly a horcrux as well. She was certain her emotions mirrored Snape's in the memory, the shock at the idea that Dumbledore had deliberately placed Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, in a situation where saving the world meant that he had to die. Snape had helped them. He'd surely been the one to cast the doe patronus that led Harry to the pond in the forest where he found the Sword of Gryffindor.
Snape was on their side all along. Snape was dead. Harry was a horcrux. Harry had to die. Dumbledore had suspected it all along. She repeated these thoughts to herself, as if repeating them would make this situation better somehow.
"I'm glad Dumbledore is dead." The words slipped from her lips before she could help herself. "I wish I'd been there, on the Astronomy Tower. I would have pushed him off myself."
Harry met her harsh gaze with a stunned look of his own at what she was sure to him seemed like an unexpectedly violent statement.
"He LIED to you. To all of us!" she continued, her shock over the memories giving way to anger.
"No. He…" his voice trailed off, and she could see confusion, shock, and exhaustion on his face.
"He. Lied. Harry, all this time. ALL THIS TIME he believed you held a piece of Voldemort's soul inside of you, and he never said a word. You had a RIGHT to know! We all did! He KNEW he was dying that night on the Astronomy Tower. He knew. He let Draco suffer for months, bearing the burden of having to let Death Eaters into the castle, of knowing that Snape was going to commit murder. He moved us - you, me, Draco, Severus, Sirius, the rest of the Order - like chess pieces on his own personal game board! He played God with our lives, making whatever choices HE felt were necessary for some mythical 'greater good.'"
She could see the internal conflict warring in her best friend. For years Dumbledore had played the role of genial, grandfatherly, headmaster and wise elder in Harry's life, and Harry had steadfastly refused to question him despite there being ample evidence that everything was not as it seemed.
"I...I think he was wrong. And he… he didn't want to worry anyone unnecessarily," he said. "Because he wasn't sure, yeah? I mean, it's not like there's a test of whether or not someone is a horcrux, and no one even knew if a person COULD be a horcrux."
"Harry, he was a legilimens. He violated my mind, after that night in the Department of Mysteries when I met with him. I have no way of knowing how many times he raped my mind before I understand legilimency and how to detect it because he was that good at it. He absolutely violated yours as well - he wouldn't have been able to stop himself. He would have needed to know without a doubt that you would do what he needed. Surely he had to be able to see that there was something there, something not quite right."
He stared at her, taken aback. "No, that's not right. Snape tried to teach me occlumency, and it didn't go well. It was painful! I'd know if someone was in my head."
"It wasn't painful, not with Dumbledore. He was a master legilimens. Had I not been told, I never would have noticed him in my mind."
"Malfoy. He told you."
It was not a question, but she nodded 'yes' all the same.
"Lucius only agreed to send Draco to Hogwarts after he proved his proficiency in occlumency. Dumbledore prodded his mind multiple times over the course of our education here but was unable to breach Draco's occlumency shields - Lucius would have raised hell if Dumbledore had used force, if it had been obvious. Snape used forced to, well, I suppose to try to show how brutal it could be. There was no reason for him to teach you like that. It's no wonder it was unsuccessful."
Harry slowly pulled himself up onto one of the chairs in the headmaster's office, a faraway, lost look on his face. It was clear that his world had been turned upside down in the span of a few minutes.
"It doesn't matter," he whispered.
"What?"
"I said it doesn't matter."
"What doesn't?"
"Dumbledore. Whether or not he poked about in your mind or Malfoy's or mine. It doesn't matter. Whether he lied. Whether he manipulated people. It doesn't matter. Because we're in the midst of a fucking battle, and I have a piece of Voldemort's SOUL in my head!" His voice rose as he spoke, and he pointed at the lightning-shaped scar on his forehead.
"I still… I still have to DIE if we're ever to be truly rid of him," he spat, the weight of the world clearly resting on his thin shoulders.
She tried to choke back a sob, to blink back the tears that burned her eyes.
"No, there has to be another way. There has to be!" she insisted.
"You heard him - he's given me an hour to come to him."
"NO! You can't go alone! I'll go with you!"
"It has to be just me. There's no other way. It's what the prophecy said, isn't it? 'Either must die at the hand of the other, for neither can live while the other survives.'"
"Harry, divination is utter rot. You don't… you don't believe that do you? About the prophecy?"
"Voldemort does. So did Dumbledore," he retorted. He turned then to look out the window at the courtyard below. The snow and the flagstones below were stained with blood.
"Enough people have died already tonight," he said softly, his voice resigned.
"But...but what about Nagini? About the horcrux?" she said, ignoring the tear that slipped down her cheek.
Harry turned back to face her, and his expression was resolute and firm. He had made up his mind. She knew this, she knew that there was absolutely nothing she could say to persuade her firmly Gryffindor best friend to deter him from his path.
"You'll have to do it. You and Malfoy. You destroyed the cup. You can do this too."
"Yes, but-"
"Hermione. You have to do this. Not me. We all have a purpose, a destiny. Going out there, to meet him, this is what I'm meant to do."
She choked out a barely muffled sob as he slipped his hand into the beaded bag she still wore across her body and withdrew the Sword of Gryffindor.
"Maybe you're meant to wield the sword tonight. It has to end, and I need you. I need you to do this for me. You and Malfoy. You can do it. Kill the snake and let's end this," he said firmly as he pressed the pommel of the sword into her hand.
The metal was cold and heavy in her grasp, but she held onto the sword as if it was a lifeline, tethering her to Harry, to Lucius, to an end to the war.
"But you - you're going there, to HIM. What if you need this? Nagini will surely be wherever he is," she reminded him.
He shrugged and looked off in the distance, out the window into the dark night.
"Well, we know at least from the Room of Hidden Things that fiendfyre will destroy a horcrux. I can always cast that I suppose."
Her eyes widened in horror at the thought of Harry unleashing the destructive, sentient flames in an open space, especially one where Lucius might be. It was one of the precious rare moments in her life she found herself genuinely speechless.
"Besides I think...No. I know. This is the way it's supposed to be," he said in a quiet but firm voice.
Harry leaned in then and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I love you, you know that? Like a sister. I always wanted a sister."
A sob and a broken "I love you too," was all she could manage in response. Tears blurred her eyes as she stood there in the headmaster's office and watched Harry walk away.
~oOo~
She did not know how long she stood there, but it was long enough that Harry had disappeared down the stairs and away from her, and the world was eerily silent. Her legs gave out, and she crumpled to the floor, still clutching the sword as she wept bitterly.
There's no time for tears. Pull it together. Think, Hermione. You need to think. She silently chastised herself as she wiped at her eyes with the sleeve of her robe.
It hit her then in a flash: Lucius! If Harry was going to Voldemort, the Death Eaters would be there, and that meant Lucius was nearby. Perhaps there was something Lucius could do, some way he could intervene. Draco was safe in the castle with her, and surely that meant Lucius could act without fearing for his son's life.
She withdrew her wand and sent a series of messages to Lucius: that Snape was dead, that Harry was likely a horcrux, that Dumbledore and Snape both believed Harry had to die to end this all. She told him that Draco was in the castle and safe for now. She told him that Harry would come to the Dark Lord, and she begged Lucius to protect Harry if he could.
The words on her bracelet, Please don't let him die, faded away, and she waited for a response. Precious seconds ticked by, the clock surely winding down on her best friend's life, and she waited, unsure of where to go or what to do next.
At last her bracelet warmed, indicating a response, but it was not the one she wished to read:
Will do what I can. Wards are down. Portkey to lodge. I'll find you there.
And there it was: a variation of the same message he'd sent Draco.
Leave. Flee. Hide.
It was the most Slytherin of responses, a suggestion of self-preservation above all else. Live to fight another day. It was anathema to her. It went against everything in her that cried out for justice, that refused to give up without a fight. It was why the Sorting Hat had ultimately put her in Gryffindor.
Not until this is over, she messaged back.
Surely Lucius had to know that she wouldn't leave. Hell, Draco wasn't even leaving, not without his parents, and he wasn't exactly brave.
Not up for debate - if Potter falls, you WILL portkey to lodge to wait for me.
It was simultaneously comforting and horrifying to know that he was thinking through worst case scenarios, but she was also frustrated. Harry was perhaps walking to his death, and Lucius was more concerned about her than he was about Harry! She was touched that he cared enough to worry about her, but it would be all for naught if Harry died! What was the point of all of this if Harry died?
She loved Lucius, loved him with everything she had in her, but everything they'd worked for over the last year hinged on Harry winning, it was all to help Harry win, so there would be a magical Britain that was safe for her, so that they could be together in some way in a peaceful, post-war world.
Her sense of helplessness merged with her frustration and anger over the entire situation, and she responded to him in anger.
What if YOU die?
She regretted the words as soon as she sent them, for it gave voice to one of her very real fears.
He responded almost immediately.
You still portkey to lodge. Mipsy will come if you call. No matter what happens, stick with Draco if you can and leave quickly.
She did not respond.
The words sat heavily on her even after they faded away from her bracelet. The enormity of their situation was such that she could scarcely comprehend it. Here at Hogwarts, the place that had been her home in the magical world until Lucius had provided her with a safe haven at the lodge, a battle to the death would take place. Here on this night, wizards, witches, children, and magical creatures alike were dying, and more would surely die before the sun rose the next morning.
This was it. This was what they'd worked toward for years. Harry's parents had died for this. Dumbledore had died for this. How many more would die before it was all said and done?
It had to end tonight. Their small world could not handle another war, another temporary disappearance of Voldemort. Harry was prepared to do whatever it took to fulfill the prophecy and hopefully end Voldemort in the process, and that meant that she had to pull herself together, to harness all the bravery she could muster to see her through this night. One way or another, everything would change tonight.
~oOo~
Note: Voldemort's remarks directed to Harry and the Order were paraphrased from his actual statement in 'Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.'
I am making good progress on the next couple of chapters, and I'm hopeful that you won't have to wait quite as long for the next update. As always, I welcome your feedback and love hearing what you think about the story.
Cheers,
Elle