A/N: Sorry to keep you waiting on this one. The year-that-must-not-be-named was awful for a lot of reasons, and it kept right on kicking me up to the end: my mother and one of my children ended up in the hospital, two close relatives had COVID, and everyone had to quarantine in the second half of December, BUT we're all alive and well and I have great hopes for a better year ahead. I greatly appreciate your patience and hope this chapter was worth the wait.
The Battle of Hogwarts Part 12
Hermione struggled to breathe, and for a moment, the only sound she could hear was her own blood rushing in her ears. From her vantage point, she could see only part of Lord Voldemort as he entered the courtyard, and she was oddly cognizant of the way his dingy grey robes trailed the ground, the fabric dirty and fraying. It was such a small, insignificant thing to notice in such a dire moment that she half-wondered if perhaps Bellatrix Lestrange's crucio had done more damage to her mind than she'd realised.
Lucius was still pressed against her, attempting to conceal both of them behind the stone pillar, and Hermione was thankful for his presence, for she had no doubt that Voldemort would not hesitate to strike her down. Still, their position was not exactly secure, and she knew Lucius desperately wanted to get to his son. They'd made their way halfway around the sheltered perimeter of the courtyard toward Draco and Narcissa, and Hermione was unsure what to do now. She'd refused to leave the battle until it was over, even as Lucius had tried to portkey her to safety. She could no longer see Draco, but she hoped for Lucius's sake that he'd taken cover as well or maybe even used his own emergency portkey to escape.
She felt the cool sensation of a disillusionment charm slip over her, starting at her scalp, and she realised Lucius must have cast it. She wanted to ask him what he was doing, but she knew better. She could practically feel the tension vibrating off of him as he pressed into her.
Hermione saw a flash of red and heard the accompanying sound of screams close by. Too close. Dust and small bits of debris rained down on them, and she heard Lucius's muttered curse somewhere near her ear. She blinked frantically to clear her eyes of the dust.
A piece of stone fell from above, dangerously close to landing on them. Lucius jerked her back from the pillar, pulling her toward what was left of the sheltered colonnade, and Hermione, startled by the unexpected movement, cried out. They stumbled into the wall behind them, and she struggled to maintain her footing.
The stone pillar that had offered a meagre form of shelter was hit by a blasting curse, although whether it was intentional or not, she had no clue. She could only watch as it broke apart and fell, taking part of the colonnade with it. She and Lucius both were blown backward by the blast, and she hit her elbow and her side hard as they fell, the breath nearly knocked from her lungs. Somewhere, in the back of her mind, Hermione knew that the disillusionment charm was gone, knew that Lucius had been unable to hold it as they'd been thrown backward. She knew that they were exposed to the elements, visible to anyone, and she knew that Lucius was still with her, lying half on her in the rubble, still alive and conscious, for she could hear his groan of pain.
"Luciusssss..."
The hissing, haunting voice of the Dark Lord told her that she was not the only one who knew that.
"My Lord."
Lucius's voice was strained, pain that he tried to hold back clear to her practised ear.
She felt a wrenching pain in her scalp, arm, and side as Lucius roughly tugged her to her feet, his hand fisted in her hair. Her hands clenched and unclenched, and Hermione felt panic swell in her as she realised she'd dropped her wand in the blast. Where was it? Had Lucius grabbed it? Why wasn't he running? Why hadn't he activated a portkey?
"And just what have you got there, my favoured servant?" Voldemort's voice felt like a snake slithering over her bruised skin.
She tried to turn her head toward Lucius, although she suspected such a thing was futile, as he was surely occluding to protect his mind. His face would tell her nothing, but she knew that with the twist of his wand, he could send her to the lodge. She'd be angry with him later, for certain, because she had every intention of seeing this battle through to the end, but Voldemort was there, he was right there, and he'd seen them. Her movement was restricted by the feel of a wand point pressed firmly into the side of her throat and jaw.
Jumbled, confusing pieces of a puzzle that made no sense were slotting into place, and yet her normally brilliant mind could not comprehend what was happening.
"Potter's mudblood."
Lucius's voice was so cold, and Hermione shivered, feeling as if a bucket of ice had been dumped over her. What was he doing? If she'd had her wand, she could have fired on Voldemort herself. It was a clear shot. Lucius could take it. Why was Lucius not casting an avada kedavra? Sure, the prophecy supposedly said that Harry had to kill him, but desperate times called for desperate measures, and she was quite certain anyone firing a killing curse at Voldemort would be a good thing right now.
Lucius shoved her forward, his fingers digging painfully into her arm, and Hermione struggled to stay on her feet.
Voldemort tilted his head at them, appearing more animal than human, his red eyes meeting hers for just a fleeting second before she looked away, desperately trying to rebuild her occlumency shields.
"Filth," he spat. "Not fit to be in this world."
"And yet here she is," Lucius said, a snide, cold tone to his voice. "My Lord, I wish to claim the mudblood as a spoil of war."
She thought Voldemort smirked in her direction, but she could not be sure for in that moment, all she could feel was agony. Her heart was ripping into a thousand pieces. This was not her Lucius. This was… this was a Death Eater. This was someone she did not know, did not ever care to know.
Was it an act, now? A desperate act to save their lives from his demented master? Or was this the real Lucius Malfoy? She'd only once seen Lucius the Death Eater, in the Department of Mysteries, and even then he'd been restrained, willing to accept her help. He'd even come up with an alibi to address the disappearance of the prophecy. But she knew he'd been forced to go on missions, been forced to act in service to a mad man, and along the way, he'd surely hardened his heart to survive. This Lucius was cold and terrifying.
What was real and what was not? She was no longer sure anymore, and part of her wished she'd been left to die under Bellatrix's wand somewhere in the castle. Surely that torture hurt less than the feeling of her heart ripping into pieces.
"A mudblood?" Voldemort seemed amused. "You wish to take a mudblood as a spoil of war? I should have thought your standards higher, Luciussss."
"This filthy little bitch has caused my son nothing but grief, and I believe it's time she learned her place in your world, my Lord. Draco and I very much look forward to breaking her."
Hermione began to sob. She knew it was poor form, and that she was pathetic for bursting into tears, but she could no longer keep herself together. Her entire life was collapsing around her, and her world was literally going up in flames, and the one man she loved above all else, the one wizard for whom she'd risked everything was manhandling her as he made crude remarks to his master about how he intended to ruin her.
"Save your tears, mudblood. We haven't even begun yet." Lucius's voice ringing out cold and clear near her ear only made her sob harder.
Voldemort twirled his wand - no, Dumbledore's wand - in his pale clawed hands as he smirked in amusement.
"Please," she whimpered, twisting in Lucius grip.
Had it all been just a sick, twisted game? Had he ever cared about her? Memories of their private encounters swirled together in her mind, and she tried to make sense of everything she'd seen and heard. He'd killed Bellatrix for her. He'd created a way to get her to safety. Had any of it been real? Yes, yes it had. This was an act, surely an act.
"It is perhapsss premature to claim spoilsss of war, as the battle is not yet won, but with Harry Potter dead, it is only a matter of time before the traitors surrender," Voldemort hissed.
He paused then and looked to the side. Hermione followed his gaze, and through her tears she could see an uncertain Draco and Narcissa clinging to each other.
"Draco…" Voldemort beckoned with his wand, and Hermione felt Lucius stiffen behind her.
Her former classmate, the spoiled prat, the utter arse who'd locked her in a broom closet and groped her the night he let Death Eaters into the castle, the wizard who had gone along with her stupid 'secret relationship' lie she'd told Harry, walked forward uncertainly.
"Yes, my Lord." His voice shook, and Hermione might have felt sorry for him in another time, but she was too busy trying to hold together the shattered pieces of her heart.
"I still have use for your father this night, but as he has proven to be one of my most trusted, most loyal servantsss, I shall grant him - and you - this boon. You may have your mudblood to break as you see fit. You shall have to bring her to a revel in celebration of our victory tonight. I'm sure the rest of our brethren will enjoy seeing Potter's little whore debased and degraded for their entertainment."
Bile rose in her throat, and Hermione thought she might vomit.
"Take her now, young Draco, and remove this filth from my sight."
"Please, Lucius," she whispered to him, unsure of what she was pleading for him to do.
Draco stepped hesitantly into the courtyard, unwilling to disobey Voldemort, but clearly uncomfortable with the situation. He crossed half the distance between his mother and Lucius and Hermione when a hoarse yell erupted from the far end of the courtyard, well behind Voldemort.
Through her tears, Hermione saw a ripple of movement, and then to her shock, Harry Potter pulled the invisibility cloak from his body.
"Let her go!" he yelled.
Lucius's grip tightened on her arm, but all Hermione cared about in that moment was that Harry, her dear, sweet best friend, Harry, was really and truly alive. His wand was clasped in his hand, and he fired in their direction, a slicing curse that came close enough to Voldemort that it cut through the long, loose sleeve of his dirty grey robes.
It was as if time moved in slow motion then, as curses flew. The wand Lucius held at her throat moved and sliced through the air, throwing a shield up around both of them.
"To Narcissa, pet, now," he hissed, and Hermione's battered mind and body tried to wrap itself around the rapid change in his voice and demeanor, how he once again sounded like her Lucius. She felt inordinately stupid for having not immediately realised that he'd been forced to play a role, to play the part of the evil Death Eater, in order to not give away his defection when his own life and Draco's were still very much in danger. What sort of horrible person was she to doubt him?
Draco had turned and begun to run back toward his mother, Lucius following behind, half-dragging Hermione with him.
"My wand," she gasped through her sobs.
"In my cloak. Hurry," he snapped.
A fresh wave of tears erupted from her, unbidden, at this revelation, and she sobbed now in relief and in guilt for how she'd doubted him, how she'd automatically assumed the worst when faced with Voldemort. She was weak, she knew that guilt would eat at her for a long time to come.
"Hermione!" Harry's voice called out over the din of battle, and Hermione panicked at how the scene must appear to him, as she ran after Draco, her arm still clasped in Lucius's tight grasp.
"The snake is gone, Harry!" she yelled back. "FINISH THIS!"
Voldemort whirled about, his red eyes scanning the courtyard as he dueled Harry, until they settled on the target of his fury.
His bony arm lifted, his clawed hand grasped around Dumbledore's wand, and magic practically emanated from him in waves, so great was his fury at Harry Potter surviving the killing curse a second time.
"Traitor! You dare defy Lord Voldemort! AVADA KEDAVRA!"
Hermione heard the words yelled in the low, hissing voice, and saw the jet of acid green magic shoot from his wand with the force of a bullet exploding from a gun. She even saw the direction the curse was fired, but there was no way to react in time. There was no way to do anything at all. It was like watching a car accident, knowing you cannot stop the collision.
For a moment, all Hermione could hear was the sound of her own blood pumping furiously in her ears. She ran as fast as she could, but time stood still, and her body would not cooperate, could not move at a superhuman speed, and she was helpless.
The curse struck true.
It always did.
Except when aimed at Harry.
Hermione could only watch in breathless shock as the avada kedavra hit its target.
Narcissa Malfoy blinked once, and then fell, dead before she hit the ground.
~oOo~
As Narcissa fell, Voldemort turned his attention to Harry.
"You were dead. I cast the killing curse at you!"
"As you can see, it didn't work. And now your horcruxes are all gone, and it's just you and me," Harry said evenly.
Draco reached his mother first, and Hermione's attention was drawn from the confrontation between Harry and Voldemort as Draco cradled her body as he screamed and sobbed.
"Mummy! Mummy! No!"
Narcissa Malfoy's grey eyes were open, her gaze fixed, and her body limp in her son's arm.
Draco was crying, and Hermione was gasping and trying to catch her breath as Lucius finally released her to see to his son.
Hermione had never particularly liked Draco Malfoy, especially not after he'd taken advantage of her the night Dumbledore died or earlier on this very evening when he'd taken liberties with her as he went along with her ruse to keep Harry from learning the truth about Lucius. He'd always been someone she viewed as a heartless, spoiled git, who did as he pleased. Even when she'd been properly motivated to feel pity for him in the past, as she had when she'd stepped in front of Harry's sectumsempra curse in sixth year, he somehow managed to fuck up the situation and use up all of her goodwill by doing something awful later on.
But this…
The young man who'd escaped fiendfyre and tried to get her to leave the castle had been transformed in her eyes into a scared little boy as he clutched his mother's body and sobbed brokenly. His agonised cry of "why?" broke Hermione's heart.
Lucius pressed Hermione's wand back into her hand.
"Shield. Now," he hissed.
She reacted on instinct, casting a notice-me-not spell and then a shielding spell around them as Lucius bent to his son, whispering to him. She could not hear what they were saying, nor did she wish to. She'd been so desperately curious in the past about the relationship between the Malfoys, about how Lucius endured his apparently loveless marriage, his son the only real tie he shared with his wife, a wife who had just been murdered in front of them.
Hermione held no love for Narcissa Malfoy. If anything, she had every reason to dislike her, given that the older witch was held in a lifelong marriage to Lucius that neither could escape. Narcissa was the witch on his arm and in his home, the woman the public recognised as 'his,' and she, Hermione, was the dirty little secret in the shadows.
She'd wished for Lucius's freedom before, wished there was a way for him to escape the Malfoy family's ancient marital bonds, but not like this. She would never have wished death on Narcissa. Never like this, to be struck down in cold blood in front of her child.
Lucius took his wife's body from their son and gathered her in his arms.
"Come."
Hermione stretched her shield, pushing it out further to make sure it encircled all of them as she tried to keep an eye on Harry, who looked no worse for wear, despite surviving a second avada kedavra in his short lifetime.
Lucius carried his wife's body from the colonnade, and back into one of the hallways of Hogwarts.
"Need an empty room, or a sheltered space. Hermione?" Lucius called to her.
She tried to pull her attention from what she prayed would be a final duel between Harry and Voldemort and tried to get her bearings.
"I think there's a bathroom ahead, on the left, assuming it hasn't been blown apart."
The boys' bathroom was partially intact and empty, although whoever had been in their last had left a bloody arm behind in the mix of water and debris that littered the floor. She tried not to look at it for fear she might vomit.
"Can you - I need a table or something," Lucius said, nodding his head at her.
Hermione transfigured a broken bathroom stall door into a narrow table, and Lucius placed his wife's body carefully upon it as Draco sobbed brokenly. Lucius gently closed his wife's eyes, and Hermione looked away, feeling that she was intruding on a very private moment but unsure of whether or not she should leave. Harry might need her, and yet, despite what had happened in the courtyard with Lucius and Voldemort, she felt unable to leave Lucius at this moment.
"Listen to me, son."
Hermione looked back at Lucius, who had a hand on Draco's shoulder. "The Dark Lord used the killing curse on Potter and asked her to confirm that he was dead. She told him that he was."
Draco looked confused. "But Potter isn't, he-"
"I know. She told the Dark Lord Potter was dead to get to the castle. She wanted to get to you."
Draco sobbed harder at this, and Hermione's heart twisted in sympathy for him.
"And she did. She found you, and you are safe, and you are going to stay that way. Listen to me - we don't have much time."
Lucius pressed something into Draco's hand. "This will take you to the townhouse in Kensington. The wards there won't let anyone else in. You will take your mother's body with you. Cast a stasis charm if you must. Do not - under any circumstances - leave the town house. Lock the floo down immediately. I will come for you when I can. You know what to do if I can't be there."
"Mummy…" Draco's tear-streaked face was still focused on his mother's body.
Lucius put both hands on his son's shoulders and shook him. "Draco! What are you to do? Tell me."
Draco choked on a sob. "Portkey with mother to the town house in Kensington, lock down the floo, and stay there until I hear from you."
Lucius nodded briefly. "Good. That's good. You'll have what you need there."
He touched his son's cheeks, wiping away a tear with his thumb before embracing him, which drew another choked sob from Draco.
"Be safe, son. I love you."
Draco nodded, blowing out a hard breath as he murmured "love you" back to his father.
Hermione watched in silence, wiping away a tear of her own as Lucius stepped back from his son. Draco took his mother's still hand in his own, clutching the small object his father had pressed into his hand.
Lucius withdrew his wand and pointed it at them before whispering, "Portus."
In a swirl of magic, Draco disappeared, taking the body of his mother with him.
For a long moment, they both stood in silence in the remains of the bathroom. Lucius slowly turned around to face Hermione. He looked as if he'd aged several years in the span of minutes, and his eyes were red-rimmed and glassy as he held back tears.
Hermione was unsure what to do or say. He'd ripped her heart in pieces and claimed her as a spoil of war before Voldemort and then they'd both watched as his wife was murdered in front of him and their only child.
Her instinct was to ask if he was okay, but that seemed inane as he clearly was not okay.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, intending it as a collective apology for the loss of his wife, his son's grief, and her own unvoiced doubts and fears about him.
His eyes met hers. She wasn't sure who moved first or how, but somehow she was in his arms, and he was clinging to her, and she was holding tightly onto him.
"He could have killed my son," he whispered into her hair.
"He didn't. He didn't. Draco is safe."
"This has to end."
"I thought… when you grabbed me… I didn't know...the things you said," she found herself babbling into his shoulder as she clung to him.
"Stupid girl. My sweet, stupid girl. I'd never… just needed to keep you safe. It was the first thing I could think of that might work."
She pulled back from him just enough to frantically kiss his lips. Once, twice, three times. He was holding her face, and she was crying, and her hands were in his hair, and God, how was this horrible fucking night not over already?
"Please let me send you away. You can portkey to the lodge, and I'll come for you as soon as I take care of Draco."
He looked desperate, more desperate than she'd ever seen him, and a big part of her wanted to say yes because she knew it would offer him some relief. And yet…
"I can't leave. Not without Harry. Not without knowing. I...I can't go without you, and if you're staying I'm staying."
He pressed a kiss against her lips then. "My foolish, brave witch. Come on then."
~oOo~
They retraced their steps back to the courtyard, and in the brief time they'd been gone, a crowd had gathered and someone - Harry she suspected - had cast a huge protego charm over the gathered students, staff, and Order members. Harry and Voldemort circled each other, each assessing the other, wands drawn. A lull in the fighting had occurred as all in the vicinity had stopped to watch what would be the ultimate battle. Excited murmurs of "Harry! He's alive!" "Potter lives!" rustled through the crowd. The energy of the battle seemed to have shifted.
Over the din of the crowd, she could barely make out Harry telling Voldemort about Snape, that Severus Snape had always been Dumbledore's man, which only seemed to enrage his opponent.
Curses flew.
Once again the sickly green of an avada kedavra lit up the courtyard.
Hermione could not breathe as streams of magic hit each other in the centre of the courtyard in a powerful explosion that sounded like a cannon blast, golden flames shooting from the point where the spells collided. A few nearby windows that had not previously been destroyed by the fighting were blown out, and screams filled the crowd as people nearest the perimeter were blown back, despite the protego charm previously cast. She closed her eyes against the bright light and struggled to hold onto Lucius in the crush of people and the seismic wave of magic. Her ears rang with the blast, and she wondered how anyone could survive at close range.
Something had happened. For better, or for worse, a cataclysmic magical event had just happened, the likes of which she had never before seen, and Hermione was afraid to see the outcome.
Was Voldemort dead? Was Harry?
If she opened her eyes and looked upon the courtyard, would she see Harry's battered remains? Would there be anything left of either of them?
"Lucius?" she pushed out, fear already gripping her chest harder than it had all night.
He did not respond, and she dared to blink up at him, desperately needing to see for herself that he was alive and well. His hand was fisted in her robes, but his gaze was pointed not at her but at the duel, and she willed herself to look.
The courtyard was strangely silent as the energy from the magical explosion dissipated, the crowd collectively holding its breath.
Hermione could see two figures in the fading light of their clashing spells, both with wands still drawn. Wisps of smoke wafted from the end of Harry's wand. She had no idea what that meant, as she'd never seen such a thing occur, but it certainly could not be good.
Everyone around them seemed afraid to move, all eyes riveted on the Dark Lord and the Chosen One.
Slowly, Voldemort lowered his arm, and the wand that once belonged to Albus Dumbledore slipped from his grasp. The sound of the wand hitting the ground seemed to echo off the stone.
They had chipped away at his horcruxes, destroying them one by one, until all that remained of him was the twisted, snake-like creature who could barely be considered human. He had greeted Harry on the field of battle as mortal once more.
There were no more backups, no more failsafes, no more means to escape death.
As the last pulse of the magical explosion faded, Lord Voldemort - Tom Marvolo Riddle - fell to the ground, dead.
There was a moment of silence, of utter stillness when Voldemort fell. No one moved. It was, she supposed, as if everyone feared that he might get back up and charge at them all.
"Is he… you know?" she heard someone whisper.
"It could be a trap," she heard another voice.
Hermione watched as another flash of light shot from Harry's wand, and a collective gasp sounded around the courtyard as the slicing hex cleanly removed Tom Riddle's head from his corpse.
It was over.
It was finally over.
Harry then cast an incendio, sending the corpse in flames.
A cheer went up through the crowd as it began to sink in that the Dark Lord, the wizard who'd terrorized and killed so many, was finally dead.
Hermione leaned into Lucius, clinging to him as tears of joy and relief slipped down her cheeks.
"It's over, it's over," she murmured into the dragonhide of his Death Eater robes.
"HARRY! HARRY!"
Hermione looked up as Sirius Black - looking much worse for wear - came running into the courtyard, shoving people out of the way to get to his godson. He scooped him up in such a fierce hug that Hermione couldn't help but laugh at the way Sirius nearly knocked him over.
Kingsley Shacklebolt stepped forward then, calling Aurors and members of the Order to action. The crowd was beginning to disperse as people moved toward Harry to congratulate him or away from the wretched scent of burning flesh.
Harry turned to look at her, catching her eye as she scanned the courtyard. He offered her a weary half-smile and took a stumbling step forward, offering Sirius a reassuring pat on the arm.
Hermione shook off Lucius's grasp and ran for him, ignoring the sickening smell of Voldemort's smoldering corpse as she flung herself into Harry's arms.
"You did it, Harry! You did it!" she kept repeating as she hugged him tightly.
"I don't know what just happened," he said softly into her hair. "The blast - I've never heard of anything happening like that before - I don't know…"
"It doesn't matter. We'll figure it out. We'll research. We'll spend hours in the library. We'll - we can even look at Malfoy Manor's library," she said, laughing through her tears.
"You're okay? You're not hurt? Malfoy was - he had you at wandpoint…"
"No, Harry, it's fine! It's okay. Lucius wasn't going to hurt me. He - we were trying to get to Draco, and we were spotted, and he went with what he thought would get us out of there, and it's okay. It's okay," she rambled, remembering suddenly the awful scene Harry had witnessed.
"Lucius?" Harry repeated.
"Yes, he's been helping us. He and Draco, and it's - gosh, it's a long story, but it's okay, Harry. It's okay," she repeated, unsure whether she was trying to convince him or herself.
Harry looked at her for a long moment, and she realised as she looked up at his green eyes - Lily's eyes everyone always said - that something was very wrong. One of his pupils looked larger than the other, and his gaze seemed 'off' somehow.
Cheers erupted around them and people were hugging and kissing, and there were shouts about rounding up Death Eaters, and she heard pops of apparition and someone shouting about going to the Ministry.
"Harry?" she asked, tugging on his robe.
He looked around, and she did as well, gazing upon the undoubtedly happy end to a brutal battle and what had undoubtedly been the worst night of her life.
"Is Ron here?" he asked. She had to lean in to hear him over the din of the crowd.
"I… I don't know. I heard he was here, and I thought I saw him, but I couldn't get to him in the crowd. But if he's here, we'll find him. We will."
"'Mione, I don't feel so good," he said in a softer voice.
Concern raced through her for Harry genuinely did not look so good either. Beneath the dirt and grime of battle, he looked pale and weak.
"Are you hurt? What hurts, Harry?" she demanded.
"I don't…"
Harry leaned in toward her, still wrapped in a tight hug, and Hermione took a step back to try to keep her balance.
"Harry?"
He opened his mouth, but no sound came out, and she watched in horror as his eyes rolled back in his head, and he collapsed in her arms.
A/N: This marks the official end of the Battle, as Voldemort is now dead. We're shifting into the battle aftermath and post-war section of the story. There is still more of Hermione and Lucius's story to tell, and I'm eager to get on with it! Thank you, as always, for reading, and I look forward to seeing your thoughts on this latest twist in their tale.