A/N: Hello from stupid cold Omaha, Nebraska, Lovelies! In this chapter, we're back to the plot, as promised. Thank you for all of your support in my bashfulness about posting last chapter.
I would like to give a special shout out to acro acro and highly suggest you go read her work-in-progress A Regular Life. It's a different kind of Dramione, and I'm really enjoying it. (No pressure, acro!)
The reviews for donations drive is still going on in chapter 26. If you leave a review there, I'll donate a dollar's worth of dog food to my local animal shelter. Hurry on that, though, it closes on the 15thof this month. I'm also going to match your donations dollar for dollar. Right now we're at 17 reviews, so that's $34 worth of dog food. I'd love to give even more!
Reviews feed the muse, and since this is a cliffhanger, I'll just be over here, ducking behind the chair so you can't pelt me with things.
52k hits and climbing, holy smoking cat's pajamas!
Elvee
Snatch
Chapter Twenty Eight
...
"Opportunity does not knock, it presents itself when you beat down the door."
-Kyle Chandler
...
Just a few minutes prior, Hermione, Draco and Narcissa had been planning their next move over breakfast on the back patio when the owl approached. Only two people could get an owl to their current location: Ron and Harry. She had smiled, expecting a letter telling her Pansy had been safely whisked away to Italy. Her smile fell and the blood drained from her face as she read it. Nerveless fingers dropped the letter on the breakfast table.
Watching her reaction, Draco grabbed up the letter and scanned it before pinning her with a hard look.
'Mione,
Dumbledore doesn't have much time left. He's asking for you.
Hurry. - Harry
"No! No way!" Draco shook his head vehemently. Hermione looked pointedly away from him to stare off into the garden, her jaw set. "Tell Scarhead to take a bloody message! There's no way we're going back to Hogwarts!"
Hermione didn't respond, her mind whirring. Why would he ask for her now? Why couldn't he have given Harry a message? Just what game was the old wizard playing? He had Bellatrix's memories. Memories she hadn't had time to see. What if it was something that would turn the tide of the war?
Behind Draco, Narcissa laid a hand lightly on her son's arm, "What is it?"
Draco didn't stop glaring at Hermione as he answered stiffly, "Dumbledore wants her to go back to Hogwarts."
Narcissa pursed her lips, "That's absurd. The entire place is infested with Order members."
Hermione stood mechanically, "I'm going."
Draco launched himself out of his chair, "I forbid it!"
Still not meeting his eye, her features wooden, she said quietly, "You do that." Without another word, she spun on her heel and marched into the house.
A few minutes later found her gathering her rucksack and beaded bag in the upstairs bedroom. She knew what she was going into. Heading to Hogwarts was almost as bad as knocking on the front door of Malfoy Manor. The Order had no particular love for her after being shown up time and again. She'd snubbed Professor Dumbledore and Professor Snape in no uncertain terms. She'd told them point blank she disagreed with their methods. She'd foiled Snape's plan to use Draco as a literal whipping boy. It was unlikely they'd look past any of those things to see she was really working for the greater good.
Now, she'd be walking into one of the few places in Great Britain where she couldn't apparate out and it would be filled with Order members. With an effort, she pushed her panic aside. Dumbledore wouldn't ask for her if it wasn't important. Would he? Was it a trap he'd laid? There was very little chance of her escaping if that was the truth. Or was it an honest invitation? Dumbledore knew she wouldn't risk returning to Hogwarts if there wasn't some distinct advantage to be gained. Another advantage for Harry. Another way to bring a quick end to the killing.
Either way, something was afoot. Something big. If it was a trap for her, the Order wouldn't stop until they found her. Staying here and exposing Narcissa and Draco wasn't an option, but hunted – truly hunted with everything the Order could bring to bear- she doubted she'd last long alone. At least she knew the school. She could go into it on her terms. That might bring a small advantage, certainly more than being caught unawares in the back of beyond. No, she couldn't afford not to go.
She sighed heavily, realizing despite the promise she'd made to Draco yesterday, she'd have to go alone. The Order had already made their feelings quite clear: Draco was disposable. He would be used, interrogated, tortured. She thought about everything that had happened between them the night before. Fierce protectiveness roared to life within her. If any of them so much as touched him, she'd tear them apart.
Stunned at the strength of her own feelings, she fought for calm. This was exactly why he couldn't go. He'd be too much of a target; too much of a distraction to clear thinking. She hated breaking her word, especially the very next day after giving her word, but this was one fight she might not win and she simply wasn't willing to risk him. He'd just have to understand.
She slung her pack on her back and drew her beaded bag over one shoulder, but before she could reach the door, it flew open with a crash. A very angry Draco Malfoy blocked her exit. Though he said nothing, his eyes flashed and his chest heaved with the effort of pursuing her up the stairs.
"Out of my way," she said quietly, not meeting his eye.
"Don't be thick! It's a trap!" He snapped.
"Maybe," she conceded, trying to slip around him.
He boggled at her in his rage, then pinned her against the door frame, grabbing her elbow. "Then what the hell are you doing?"
"He wants to talk to me," she said with a glare at his hand on her arm.
"Talk? You mean with veritaserum and a crucio or two for good measure?" He shot back.
"Professor Dumbledore might be a right bastard, but he's got Bellatrix's memories, Draco. Who knows what information was in them? Maybe there's something I can use to end this stupid war." She tried unsuccessfully to yank her elbow from his grasp, but he dug his fingers in painfully and wouldn't let go. She wrestled with him again, feeling the bruise form and her temper began to boil. Furious, she spat, "If I hadn't been spending the last two weeks playing house with you instead of collecting more information..."
"Playing house!" He roared, cutting her off.
She tried to reign in her temper, forcing her words through grinding teeth, she said, "People are dying out there! Risks have to be taken." She jostled her elbow again, to no effect.
"You promised! You gave me your word we'd do this together." He yelled, his face flushed with rage.
She understood he didn't want to be left behind, waiting and wondering. Merlin, couldn't he see? She was trying to protect the bloody git! Her eyes slid shut for a long moment as she counted to ten. When she spoke again, there was no sign of her temper. "Think, Draco! If the Order wants to get their hands on me, what do you think they'll do when they see you?"
"And you expect me to just wear a hole in the carpet waiting for you? Like bloody hell!" He grabbed her right hand, shoving the Malfoy ring in her line of vision. "I made a promise, too. If you're going, I'm going!" Her immediate retort caught in her throat when her eyes met was something in them that resonated with that growling protective lioness in her heart.
They stood there for a few moments, staring each other down before she relented, "Fine. But we can't just go charging in there. We're gonna need a plan."
A slow smile spread over Draco's face and he gave her a mischievous look. "Can you get a message to Potter?"
Four hours, three apparitions and one illegal portkey later, Hermione and Draco were in an upstairs bedroom of the Shrieking Shack. Draco paced restlessly, tapping his wand on the palm of his left hand. "And another thing," he said, droning on, "I don't care if you're going to the loo, I'm going with you."
From her seat on the dusty bed, Hermione rolled her eyes. "I already told you, you big git, I'll be fine! Don't make me have Harry and Ron lock you in a broom cupboard!"
He stopped and whirled on her, "You wouldn't..."
"Don't underestimate her, Ferret," Ron said from the doorway with a smirk. Beside him, Harry slung a pack off his shoulder and dug in it, producing a cloak of fine, shimmering material. He gave Hermione an unhappy look, but handed it over to Draco.
The blond fingered the material with restrained awe. "I knew you had an invisibility cloak, Potter, but bloody hell! I've never seen it's equal!"
"Draco! Focus!" Hermione cried, snapping her fingers to get his attention. When she got a sheepish smile in return, she turned to her boys, "So who's with him now?"
Harry frowned as Draco slid the cloak on and vanished from sight, saying, "McGonagall and Shacklebolt were sitting with him when I left."
"So that's two. Any guards?" She asked briskly, settling her pack on her shoulders and preparing to leave.
"Just the gargoyle to his office, but we know the password," Ron chimed in, stuffing a chocolate frog into his mouth.
Harry scratched the scar on his forehead, "So how are we gonna do this?"
"Are they expecting us?" Asked the thin air where Draco had previously been standing.
"Dumbledore's been asking for her, and they know she wasn't kidnapped, so I'd say yeah." Harry answered. Hermione took a minute to consider the information, then filled them in on Draco's plan. While Harry and Ron might not like Draco, even they had to admit Slytherins were the best at being underhanded and sneaky. This plan was certainly that. There was only one thing left to decide: which entrance to take. After some heated debate, using the tunnel from the Shrieking Shack was ruled out. If the Order was expecting her, they finally agreed they should just walk through the front gates.
Of course the Order wouldn't be expecting Draco. It was another small advantage. So was having Harry and Ron as her escorts. Three small advantages versus Merlin only knew how many Order members. Their emergency escape plan had also been mapped out, with all of them holding a separate portkey back to the last place anyone would think to look for them: the front yard of the Shrieking Shack. They would apparate in two groups from there, sending any pursuit on a goose chase until they met back in France two days later.
They took the seldom used path from the Shrieking Shack to Hogsmeade and skirted the town through the underbrush, four sets of eyes wary of danger and eager to pass unnoticed. Looking behind her, she saw Draco's feet popping out from underneath the cloak from time to time and hissed at him.
"I can't bloody help it if Potter's father was as short as a kneazle!" He hissed back, but his feet vanished a fraction of a second later.
They approached the broad iron gates and to their surprise, they swung open in welcome. Draco was so close behind Hermione she could feel his body heat as they passed through. Behind them, the gates clanged shut in finality. She paused in the path and looked up at her once beloved school, silhouetted against the blinding blue sky. "From here on out, we stick together. Don't forget the Hominum Revelio charms every hundred paces," she said in a voice that wouldn't carry beyond the four of them. Then taking a breath to gather her courage, she resumed walking, "Here goes nothing," she mumbled.
Just inside the entrance hall, Hermione spotted Minerva McGonagall stepping smartly down the steps, lips pursed. "Miss Granger," her former professor said tartly in her Scottish brogue. "How good of you to grace us with your presence. After your were kidnapped from the Hogwarts grounds, I thought never to see you again." The old woman's eyebrow was raised and her eyes flashed in challenge.
Hermione ignored the challenge and said formally, "Professor Dumbledore wishes to see me."
Not one to be easily brushed aside, Professor McGonagall's face turned sour. "Professor Dumbledore tells some far fetched story of kidnap and extortion but surely..."
"I'm sorry. I'm not at liberty to discuss that, Professor." Hermione said tightly. Her old transfiguration professor blinked then gave her a heavy measuring look. It was not friendly.
"I see," the old professor said acidly, then turned her angry gaze to the boys. "Mister Potter and Mister Weasley, Professor Snape has asked for your assistance in the dungeons."
So here it was, the separation she'd expected. The Order was obviously trying hard to keep Harry in the dark about the true nature of it's activities. After all, he was the jewel in their crown for getting what was left of the Ministry proper to cooperate. Her hand slipped in her pocket to finger her wand as her mind shifted into top speed. Ten paces from the front doors. A half kilometer from the gates. Four hundred meters from the entrance to the hidden tunnel at the base of the Whomping Willow. A blur of spells ran through her mind.
The two boys stepped closer to her side as one, but Harry was the only one who spoke, saying, "We're staying with Hermione, Professor."
"I'm afraid I must insist," she said sharply, in her most corrective tone. If they had still been students, they would have quailed, but their squared shoulders held fast. They were students no longer, and they could not afford to get bogged down out in the open.
"After Stan Shunpike and the others, we're afraid we'll have to insist, too," said Ron, his cheeks flushing with anger.
At his retort, Professor McGonagall stood ramrod straight, snapped her mouth shut and walked briskly up the steps to the headmaster's office without another word. Outside the office, Tonks lurked in the shadows next to the gargoyle, wand drawn. Her eyes bulged for a moment at seeing all three of them in tow. She quickly pasted on a too-bright smile, and tried to discreetly pocket her wand. "Wotcha, Hermione?"
"Tonks. Good to see you," Hermione said evenly, letting her eyes linger on Tonk's pocketed wand, then giving her a frown. Reaching the gargoyle, Harry immediately gave the password, even as the two women tried to linger and exchange a meaningful look.
"Oh, uh, Ron! Your mum wanted me to tell you to go back to the Burrow right away." Tonks called from behind them as they climbed onto the steps, making sure to leave room for Draco behind them.
Ron froze, but didn't turn back around, as he called, "She can wait." Hermione slipped her hand into Ron's and gave a small squeeze in thanks. Behind her Draco gave an almost inaudible growl and pulled her against him.
"Shh!" Hissed Hermione, sliding her hand out of Ron's and bringing an old candy wrapper out of her pocket. One thing she'd learned in Draco's kidnapping was she could portkey out of the grounds. Hopefully, it would still work in the Headmaster's office.
"I didn't want to believe it, 'Mione," whispered Harry as he stared sadly at his shoes.
"Neither did I, Harry," she whispered back. Nearing the top pf the curving stairway, she said, "Stick to the plan. More than two and we use the Peruvian Darkness Powder and portkey out." She dug in her beaded bag and gave a delicate glass globe full of black sparkling powder to Ron.
Without knocking, Harry opened the door at the top of the turning stairway and pulled up short. Ron, Hermione and Draco pushed in behind. Across the room, Kingsley Shacklebolt and Professor Severus Snape stood waiting on either side of the mantle. In front of the fireplace, two sofas faced one another with a bottle of veritaserum and other, less savory implements of interrogation on the coffee table in between.
As agreed, the three of them spread out along the wall to keep from being hit by a single spell. Hermione felt Draco slip away behind her to head to the fireplace.
"Potter! Weasley! Get down in the dungeons! I will be there shortly," commanded Professor Snape. His dismay at finding the Chosen One with his interrogation suspect was apparent for only a fraction of a second.
"Like hell!" Yelled Ron as Harry quickly closed on the coffee table.
"Harry," Kingsley Shacklebolt was patting the air in a comforting gesture. "This isn't what it looks like."
Harry picked up a knife from the table cringing as he saw the dried blood on the blade. He dropped it back onto the table with a clatter and stepped back, saying angrily, "And tell me, Kingsley, what does it look like?" He pulled his wand. Hermione and Ron did the same.
"Don't be a child," Snape snapped. "She has information."
"I don't believe this!" Harry yelled. "'Mione has done more to weaken Voldemort than the entire Order put together and you want to... to... torture her?" He asked, incredulous.
"We were only going to have a nice friendly chat," began Kingsley with a smarmy smile, "Try to understand..."
"Friendly chat, my arse! Over my dead body!" Shouted Ron. "Reducto!" The curse flew from his wand and shattered the table causing splinters, potion, glass and metal implements to shower the room.
Hermione hid her face behind the crook of her elbow and ducked behind an overstuffed chair until the debris settled. When she dared a peek over it, Snape had his wand leveled at Ron. "That can be arranged," he purred.
Slowly a wand wound around the potions professor's neck to poke him under the jaw. "I wouldn't do that if I were you," growled Harry.
"Stup-" Kingsley's carefully aimed curse at Harry was cut off mid-cast as he slumped to the ground. Behind him, Draco hastily pulled the cloak off and began the process of binding, petrifying and silencing the Auror.
"Once again, Professor, I think you find yourself at my mercy," Hermione gave a brittle smile. "Ron, would you do the honors?"
"Gladly!" The redhead shot a stunning spell with altogether more force than was necessary, then beamed, "Merlin's balls, that felt good! Greasy git!" A few moments later, they'd cast sleeping spells over their captives and shoved them through the floo to Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. Hermione carefully locked and warded the floo, while the boys worked on warding the door. It would only be a matter of time before the paintings were blabbing all over the castle and whoever found Snape and Shacklebolt at Order headquarters raised the alarm.
Quickly, Harry gestured to a door on the far end of the room and they congregated in front of it, eyes flicking nervously to one another. Draco broke the tense silence by saying, "Princess, I hope you like living on the run. I just attacked an Auror."
The magnitude of what Ron had done finally caught up with him. He blanched, eyes as big as saucers. "Snape's gonna kill me," he whimpered.
Hermione rapped her knuckles against his bicep. "Don't be silly. Draco, your cloak." She turned away and fussed over the blond for a second, giving him a proud smile before making sure his feet weren't showing. They all exchanged looks and a nod, signaling the ready.
Four teenagers had just defeated an Auror, a very scary potions professor and foiled the Order's plan to interrogate and probably torture Hermione. So far, the plan was holding. The biggest question remained before them. What would the manipulative headmaster have in store?
Wand out, Harry turned the knob to Dumbledore's bedchamber.
A/N part 2: To answer your question about what music I listen to: Breaking Benjamin, Silverchair, Three Days Grace, Bush, Jane's Addiction, Pearl Jam, Blue October and the like. I'm a very loud hard rock writer. I guess some of the band names show my age. Ah, well. :)