Chapter. 4
Neville was right
Hermione's notes; The golden trio. Harry. Ron. Hermione.
The Boy who lived, The Red Baron, and then there was Hermione.
Hermione the girl with the dead eyes.
Hermione the girl who couldn't save her friends from dying.
Hermione the girl who is still in love with the enemy.
Ron which Monicker do you think fits me the best?
I guess it doesn't even matter.
They are all true.
.
.
.
The sinking suspicion she had is confirmed. He tosses his hood down, and with a flick of his wand there is silver mist bursting fourth. His Death eater mask could almost be mistaken for glitter as it fades to nothing.
Hermione felt she had seen quite enough of him to last a lifetime.
Hermione's mind struggles to process the scene before her. Of course she had long known that Ron's affiliation with Voldemort would introduce him to some questionable characters, but it's still hard to look at. Draco Malfoy, and Ron Weasley. Together. Working together, in any capacity. The word 'unsettling' comes to her mind.
Could Draco Malfoy be the Legilimens Ron spends time with?
"You've been meddling again, Draco." Ron crosses his arms. "This is sooner than we agreed."
Ew. They seen to be on a first name basis. What exactly did Ron mean by sooner than they agreed, she wonders?
Wasn't this a fine predicament. She's been captured by the enemy. Specifically the last 2 people on Earth she wants to deal with. Both of whom had betrayed her trust more than once.
Well fuck.
"Did you miss me, Kitty?" Malfoy asks smirking down at her, and she bares her teeth at him.
She'd love nothing more than to wipe that look of glee off his face. Preferably by ripping into his jugular.
She can't decide which of the men she despises more. Her traitorous, childhood friend. Or the blonde, who was supposed to have been a spy for the Order. Did this make Draco a triple agent? She supposes so.
"Drop dead."
Her comment only serves to amuse Malfoy further.
"Draco." Ron is still waiting for some kind of response.
"What did you want me to do leave her there? It was an all kill order. It's lucky she portkeyed in when she did, or she'd be dead with the rest of them."
Draco Malfoy can go from smiling to sneering in an instant. It was staggering when she first got to know him.
"The rest of them?" Her voice is a whisper.
"Quiet." Ron shoots her a look, and turns back to Draco.
Hermione can't help herself.
"Mcgonagall? Angelina? What-"
"I said, quiet." Ron whips his wand in her direction, and she can't open her lips.
Had they lost the commander? What about Harry? She wasn't even sure if he'd been at base camp when she arrived.
The men ignore her. Ron has cast a spell on the two of them and she can't make out the conversation exactly, but she can tell it's strained by the way they hold themselves.
They finish exchanging their information. Ron dispels his work, and she finds she can move her hands as well as her lips. She rises from the chair at the same moment Ron grabs her arm.
"Don't do anything stupid." He warns her.
As he starts shoving her in the direction of the tent. She spots Malfoy following them.
"Base camp?" She pleas.
"It's gone, Granger. Everyone who was there is dead." She finds it is much harder to breathe for a moment.
"Mcgongall- Harry?" Ron throws back the tent flaps, and she trips over her feet. She tumbles forward and into the tent.
She catches herself on her arms, looking up at Malfoy she waits hoping he will answer.
"We didn't find Potter. Mcgongall is dead."
Hermione wants to scream. But what good will it do? Her fingers dig into the ground, until they hurt.
Harry might be alive.
After a beat she glances around the tent, and she is horror stricken to realize how familiar it is. She has been here. Many, many times in fact.
Malfoy really is a slimy git.
The same table, the same chair. This is where he portkeyed them every time Malfoy brought her information for the Commander.
As she turns this revelation over in her head. Ron lights another cigarette, and several synapses in her brain snap together at once. Forming more connections. The smell of smoke. It had been heavy in this tent every time she'd been here before.
'This is sooner than we agreed.' Ron had said to Malfoy.
Things are starting to make more sense.
She had started to wonder why Malfoy had bothered sending her here? Why not kill her where she was on the stairs, when he saw her at base camp?
Of course.
A trap. They'd conspired some sort of plan. That involved imprisoning her.
What did they mean to do with her now?
Malfoy had been setting this up for months.
She laughs out loud.
"What's so bloody funny?"
"Everyone. Everyone always says i'm the brightest witch of the age." Another howl of laughter. "But it seems i must be the stupidest for not having seen this a mile away."
Hermione pushes herself off the ground to stand, and face them.
"C average student, Ronald Weasley got me. Of all people. I didn't even see it coming."
He narrows his eyes. "Did you ever think I wasn't half as stupid as you thought?"
"I am now." Her voice is unhinged and she's holding back another bout of laughter.
Harry wouldn't laugh at this, she thought, and then that very thought makes her laugh.
Commander Mcgonagall dead. Angelina and countless others dead. This was it right? Finally. The Order is finished, it has to be. It's all hilarious to her.
Nothing mattered now.
Dying a martyr or a traitor. It didn't matter, Voldemort had all but won. There was no way the Order could recover from this.
Malfoy slaps her across the face, and it's like she's been plunged into cold water.
"Get yourself together."
Ron snuffs his cigarette out.
She's tossed in another chair, but not bound to it by a spell. They know she can't take the both of them. Not when they are both armed, at least.
The slap is shocking but sobering. It's given her some much needed clarity.
Think. Think. The dewey eyed school girl shouts from the deep recesses of her mind.
The slap. She had provoked him. She could provoke him again. Malfoy was a looser cannon than Ron.
Hermione didn't want to face Voldemort, or endure months of torture for the sake of whatever plans had been made for her. This was what it was right? Malfoy and Ron had taken her on Voldemort's orders? It would be easier for her just to die here, and now.
Ron and Malfoy are speaking in low whispers together on the other side where the entrance to the room had been. It's gone now, magically concealed.
"Daphne." Hermione says, but they seem not to have heard.
"She wasn't buried."
The conversation stops cold, and the air in the room shifts darkly.
Very silver, and very menacing eyes turn to give her their full attention.
Even Ron seems stiffer.
"What did you say?"
"She wasn't buried. They left her out in the open to rot."
She expects Malfoy's face to crumple but it looks impossibly more angry. Good. Hermione had never mentioned this to the Slytherin, in all their little meet ups. That she knew what had become of his wife's body.
"How do you know that?"
"I tagged it myself. It was my decision to leave her to rot."
Malfoy looks down his nose at her, waiting for something else. Hermione eyes him. Then she smiles like she's pleased with herself.
In a flurry of motions 2 wands are drawn, but only 1 of them is pointed at her.
"Malfoy. Don't." Ron warns him.
Of course he must be dying to see her face when they turn her over to Voldemort. Or do whatever to her their plan warranted. Ron didn't want Malfoy to squander those opportunities.
"You insufferable little, bint." Malfoy leers at her.
She knows she's hit Malfoy in the only place he still feels anything anymore. His heart.
Ron holds his wand halfheartedly at Malfoy, but Malfoy's is trained on her in earnest. For the purpose of killing.
"Come on Ron. You have it in you. Killing me will just be one more knife in Harry's back. You can do it. Lower your wand, let Malfoy end me."
Ron looks at her in disgust.
"If not Malfoy let me have a wand i'll avada myself."
"That won't work. I've tried."
She nearly feels sorry for him, then she remembers Harry. The Order. The blood on Ron's hands. She doesn't feel bad for Ron Weasley.
He chose this. She was supposed to feel sympathy for him? She was supposed to pity him, after his life as a Death eater hadn't turned out how he expected?
Ron assesses her and he sees the determination behind her words. He reaches over to lower Malfoy's wand. The men exchange a look Hermione doesn't know what to make of. Then Ron is approaching her.
"That's twice now you have begged me. Neville was right." Her breath catches. Neville. He's talking to her about Neville! "You really do have a death wish." He sounds almost sad, if sad was something he was even capable of feeling anymore.
Hermione can't recall Neville having ever said such a thing.
Then the tip of Ron's wand is at her brow, and he won't look at her. She's glad. She doesn't want the last thing she looks at to be his sapphire eyes.
Author's note/ Oh i am so ready to introduce you guys to the Red Baron. This chapter was inspired by James Blunt's - Goodbye my lover. Those lyrics are haunting in the best possible way. Also everyone is entitled to their own opinions on whether or not the muggles could take wizards. However in this particular story the muggles have no shot at standing against the wizards. For some very specific reasons i plan to cover later. Since we are old enough to read, i think we're old and mature enough to keep negative opinions to ourselves. For the life of me i don't get why people flame stories they don't like. Pick up and move on to something else my dear, it's quite easy. For those of you following the story thank you!