Andromeda Tonks stared out the window into the night. The darkness offered her some comfort. She remembered the Star celebrations of her youth when they would dance in the garden behind Black Manor and stuff themselves with sweets. She remembered the lush chocolate dipped cherries and the sweet toffees her mother preferred. She remembered her family before the world broke them apart and scattered them like ashes across the world. She remembered burning brightly, a star in the vast darkness.
She bent her head and remembered her family. Even Bellatrix would be welcome in this moment if her insane sister could give her the strength needed to accomplish this. She fought the urge to pull the heated rune stone necklace from around her throat. She'd designed it and carved the stones with her husband's wand as it was all she had left of him. She'd blessed it with her daughter's tears collected after she'd given birth. The first years of a new mother were powerful things. She sank her teeth into her lower lip. The pain kept her present. She needed this last night of sanity. She needed to remember for what and whom she was fighting.
She pulled one of Teddy's old shirts closer to her face and dried her own tears on it. She wouldn't see him again. She'd seen the goodbye in Potter's eyes. She knew he was fleeing this twisted world where they resided.
She'd known Harry would go. He was brave enough and determined enough to make a good life far from this crumbling world. Her family would be safe with him.
It was why she'd made the necklace. She'd known the time would come for her last stand. The magic of the Foundation Stone was strong, even corrupted as it was. The moments when her true self was in control were few, but the necklace bought her time. She looked up at the stars that seemed so faint.
"Please, help me." She felt the hot chase of tears down her face. For a moment, she saw Aunt Walburga, perfectly coiffed with ferocity and determination to spare. Then, Uncle Orion joined her. Strength and power flowed out of him like he was a wellspring. Others joined them. Each leaving her with a new sensation. She saw her father, his wild main of curls always moving, caught in his struggle between joy and sadness. She saw her Aunt Dorea singing and laughing as she danced.
"Toujours Pur." The words she had shied away from for so long tumbles from her lips as their meaning came clear. "It was never about the blood. It was about the magic."
Each family had its own secrets, but her family had so many. She saw her daughter stumble in and giggle with some forgotten great great. Blacks died as all living things must, but their magic like starlight continued on waiting to provide light on the darkest of nights. It was always about the magic. She pressed her fist against her chest and felt her heart race.
This was her defining moment, her battle to win.
Shed prepared. Always knowing that Harry would find a way, she had been filling notebooks with all that she learned and knew. They were stowed in the bottom of Teddy's overnight bag. It wasn't enough, but if Hermione was with them, they stood a chance. That witch would find a way to keep them safe.
The power of her family sang through her.
Riddle had always wanted a Black witch. She'd thought it was because Aunt Cassiopeia had thrown him over at school, but she knew better now. He'd wanted a Black witch because they could work with the star born stones. He'd planned to corrupt the stone from the very beginning.
Andromeda pulled her daughter's bright red cloak tighter around her shoulders. She didn't care if she sweat through the damned thing. These times of lucidity were burning away. The necklace was limited because she had no star born stones of her own, they were closed away in vaults, sealed away beyond her reach. She wasn't brave enough to call forth the stardust in her body, to burn her own flesh away and hope it would be enough. She shivered as the stones heated on her skin again, pushing back the taint for a little bit longer.
She took a swig from the chalice in her hand. The healing potions were losing the battle, but she would hold out as long as she could. This was her battle.
They needed time to get away. It was the last gift she had to give. Her sanity was a small price to pay for their freedom.
Hermione stumbled out of the room and slumped against the wall. It was over. Her battle was done. A deep breath burned her lungs. She managed a couple of steps and fell to her knees. The sharp bite of cool stone startled her. Blood splattered in front of her, shining darkly in the low light. She breathed out the barest of chuckles.
It was infinitely easier to destroy things with no sentience, but that wasn't her lot in life. At least nothing had tried to drown her this time. The trace office had actually been designed to defend itself. The wards had been fierce enough, but the other defenses had been worse. So much worse. She wiped the blood from her fingers on her jeans, not that it did much of anything. Each breath was a struggle, but it didn't matter. She yanked the coin from her pocket.
The familiar hum of the protean charm on her fingers was a celebration of its own. She sent the message. The knowledge that Harry would save their friends buoyed her through the inevitable sadness.
She tried to get on her feet, but her muscles failed her. She was so tired of war. There wasn't any glory in it. Gryffindors valued their bravery, but it really should come with a warning. It seemed to lead to bleeding far more than it should.
She coughed out a chuckle and pulled a chunk of something grotesque from her hair. It wriggled in her hand like warm gelatin. She shook it off her hand And heard a splatting sound as it hit the floor. Those brains that attacked Ron in fifth year had cousins. Well, they had had.
She grimaced.
Pain lanced through her. She knew her injuries were deep, but potions were closely controlled. She'd had no hope of getting the kind of things she needed and brewing them was out of the question. Meeting death on her feet wasn't going to be a possibility. She let her body relax. There was no point fighting for something beyond her reach. The wall and floor were cool, but she didn't have enough power left to cast a warming charm much less the patronus she wanted to send.
She bit into her lower lip and let her mind slide where it wanted. Her last minutes would be with him, even if it was only a fantasy. Rodolphus rose up like a dream in her mind. She remembered him standing at her window with the sun pouring in around him; casting him in silhouette. He'd looked more like some warrior god than a wizard. Letting the emotions she had denied at the time free, she changed the memory to suit her. She imagined him turning with a flash of a grin and joining her in the sheets once more. His warm breath teased her ear as his nibbled on the lobe. They were gentle with each other. Soft touches and the warm flashes of his breath were a delectation. She let the real world drift away and poured herself into the fantasy.
Her battle was won.
Narcissa followed behind the men. Lucius had picked them carefully, but she didn't fully trust them. Rowle lived for turmoil, and Roddy was as near to crazy as a wizard could be without stepping over the line. She circled her wrist about under the cover of her robe, keeping her wand at the ready.
"Saving this witch is a waste of time." Rowle grumbled. "If she's willing to spend her life freeing us all, then we should let her."
"We used to have honor." Lucius glanced over at the blonde wizard. "We used to guard it. It was a measure of our true worth as wizards. I want mine back. If you value yourself so cheaply, run. Run and keep running because there will be no safe harbor for you with me."
"Honor doesn't keep you warm at night." Rowle shrugged. "It's not that I don't value it, but I'm worried about us. This witch belongs to the light."
"If you don't shut up, we will fail." Roddy growled. "This witch will die and none of us will have any honor left."
"You just want to keep your plaything." Rowle smirked. "Did you enjoy your roll in the mud? Got a taste for it now?"
"Don't kill him, Rodolphus." Lucius looked back at the squabbling pair. "He does this before every fight. If Avery weren't bed ridden, he'd be here, and we could leave them to it."
Narcissa watched these men carefully. They moved with grace and determination. For all their verbal sparring, their actions spoke louder. There was no hesitation. This was an act of redemption.
The corridors seemed endless. She didn't have any idea how her husband knew where to go. Trust was all that was left. She hated the silence and the deep well of agony that enveloped them. Lucius stopped, but Rodolphus sprang past him.
"Healing potions." Rodolphus gathered the broken and bloody body of the witch they'd come to save in his arms. "She needs everything."
Narcissa grabbed the few precious bottles from her pocket and moved forward. Severus had brewed these. His will seemed to infuse his brewing with extra power. Even now, long after his death, the power of the wizard lingered. They offered this witch the best chance of survival.
Lucius knelt beside her and started healing the open wounds. She poured potions into the witch's mouth and messaged her throat to get her to swallow. The metallic scent of fresh blood infused the air, but Narcissa ignored it.
She'd lived helpless and fearful long enough.
When Hermione Granger's eyes fluttered and her breathing became less labored, they stopped their frantic movements. Her lungs were burning as she dragged air into them. She leaned against Lucius and felt his magic wrap around her, offering comfort.
"Can we go now?" Rowle snarled down at them. "Guarding your backs takes a toll. She'd better be worth the fuss."
Narcissa looked up and caught the witch's glowing citrine gaze. Redeeming her husband's honor and paying for her son's freedom had been reason enough to see her set on this course, but seeing the determination in that wild magic infused gaze gave her hope. There might be a way through this nightmare after all.
The warmth of the night air had her hair sticking to the back of her neck, but it didn't bother her in the least. The joyful abandon of most of her friends echoed through the moonlit cove. Luna watched as Draco sighed. He knew too well the cost of this night. Family and friends abandoned. His heart was understandably heavy even as the others cheered. He approached her slowly and sat on the sandy beach beside her.
"It hasn't hit Harry yet." He picked up a handful of the white sand and let it slide slowly through his fingers. "Hermione was an amazing witch."
"She is." Luna sighed and looked out over the sea. "I broke Harry's rules. Your parents saved her and as many of their group as they could. We will see them again."
Luna smiled at his shocked expression and turned to watch the white capped waves ride the dark waters into shore. It seemed apropos.
