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16 November 1998.
He returned before she did, and when she climbed the stairs to enter the house, he had long since gone. It took her a long time to return to this world after being lost in the even intervals of foot falls and breaths. Her hatred of running had only dulled slightly; it was a dull roar of sullen dislike, but she might have enjoyed the time it gave her to think. By the time she crossed the threshold of Grimmauld Place, she had lists long enough to drag on the floor of her mind - lists of topics, of titles, of theories to end the war. It was by sheer force of will that she made it to her room to change her clothes before she lost herself in literature and the passage of time was tracked by the beats of her heart. She was settled in an armchair, soothed by cups of tea that grew cold as she forgot the existence of the rest of the world. The more that she read, the calmer she felt, until Harry's voice brought her back to Earth when he stumbled across her name.
"I thought you were supposed to be kept safe." She lifted her eyes to meet his and nearly drowned in the anxiety that pooled there. He smelled of cigarettes and she closed her book, reaching out for him and taking a hand that still trembled. He drew her from the chair and half-pulled, half-tripped to the front steps where he lit another cigarette and tried to stop the shaking.
"It was safe. Kingsley knew we were too late. She turned eleven three weeks ago, Hermione. She never even got to see Hogwarts. Bellatrix took her while she was being fitted for robes, and her mother had gone to the back to pay."
Hermione closed her eyes and flinched through her body, all the way to her soul, and she kept Harry's hand in both of her own. He took a long drag and for a moment, she was glad that a lost little girl inspired such fervor because it meant the war hadn't ruined him yet, and then she was ashamed because she knew in her heart the girl was already dead and ashamed that she wondered how much longer one man could continue to care. He exhaled silver tendrils that wrapped around the night and he pulled her close to his chest. In another time, the gesture could have been romantic; perhaps, had they an audience, it would have looked that way regardless.
He didn't need her to speak; she didn't have anything to say. It was enough that she was there and he could feel the subtle heat of her body that told him she was real. She was quiet because she knew he didn't need words, and long minutes passed while she counted the number of times that his chest fell. The clothing between them wasn't enough to hide the sharpness of his body and she let her head rest against the hollow under his shoulder until he took a deep breath, and the fingers holding her ribs slipped to her hip, and she breathed her own relief because she knew he'd keep caring that night, and it was the best that she could have hoped for.
She'd spent the last seven years of her life with him, but she had never seen Harry like this. He'd thrown his cigarette and grabbed her wrist and he dragged her after him roughly until she understood that they were going for a run, even though she didn't have shoes on her feet. When he roared DOWN, she was ready, and she dropped and fired spells that turned orange by the light of the fading sun, and then she scrambled gracelessly to her feet because she needed to MOVE because he'd already thrown another hex at the spot where she'd been. It was exhilarating; it was wild, but she found a rhythm, and for those few moments, Harry was free.
Later that night, she was cautious, but she understood the RA this time, and she chose the middle of her bed before she opened her throat to the quick flood of cinnamon. The pain rendered her not-quite blind, but she couldn't see color, and the shades of grey blurred together. In her head, she saw the words that she'd read earlier that day, and she clung to them desperately as a way to pass the night.
17 November 1998.
She had slept some, but she had not slept well and her eyes felt like sandpaper. With a muffled oath, she groped for the vial of Pepper Up from the supply inside the nightstand beside her bed. She uncorked it with her teeth and tipped it back into her mouth. Definition returned to her world in the form of lines and boundaries and individuality. Adrenaline interrupted the fluidity of her movements and sharpened her senses. The air felt heavier today and the world seemed quieter. All she wanted was tea for breakfast, but Harry had disagreed and insisted she eat sausage. She compromised by eating toast with jam like she had so many days before, though on this day it tasted too sweet.
She admired the morning, taking careful note of the birds in the sky and the precise shades of bright scarlet and pale yellow on the trees as the leaves began to change, and she marveled that anything could be so lovely when it died. Her thoughts were halted by the dull thump of Moody's leg as he entered the kitchen with Tonks, Seamus Finnigan, Charlie Weasley, Alicia Spinnet, and Kenneth Towler. Tonks and Charlie were jovial and Seamus and Alicia argued the merits of Irish Quidditch. Kenneth was new to the Order though, and Hermione thought there might have been truth to the idea of smelling fear. She recognized him vaguely as a former Gryffindor, though she was currently more preoccupied with keeping her toast down than trying to soothe his nerves when she couldn't even settle her own.
She took another cup of tea and wished for Kingsley's oversized coffee mug as she watched Moody's lips move and she listened to his voice.
"This is a raid on a Death Eater safe house. On paper, it's owned by the Crabbe family. Activity has been minimal, but we have it on our own pet Death Eater's authority that it is in use, and that a good chunk of medicinal potions are being stored there. We are expecting to interrupt a new shipment to that house, and should find Crabbe Sr., Goyle Sr., Draco Malfoy, Rodolphus Lestrange, and Snape. With Lestrange, we run the additional risk of encountering Bellatrix."
Moody paused to glower at each of his team members, and his gaze lingered on Hermione. Belatedly, she felt his stare, and her lips stopped moving as she halted her mental assessment of the Death Eaters he had listed.
"It is unlikely they will be masked. If they are, remember Snape fights with Sectumsempra. I am under strict orders by Dumbledore to not fatally injure him, and I am also under strict orders to pass along those same strict orders to each of you."
His lip curled, somewhere between disgust and distain, and Hermione wondered if it caused him physical pain to issue that reminder; if she judged by the expression on his face, the level of pain must have been significant.
"Any questions? No? We have a newcomer. Towler, keep your head on straight, this isn't training anymore and Death Eaters don't follow anyone's rules. CONSTANT VIGILANCE. We leave together, via portkey, in 3, 2, 1, -" She'd only just set down her toast when the Pop! took them away.
When the pull behind her navel eased, Hermione opened her eyes and saw dead trees and an unnatural shimmer that screamed of magic and secrets and something of value. She snorted slightly and resisted the temptation to roll her eyes because subtly rarely existed in the wizarding world. Even the most untrained of eyes could have noted that something was being protected because dilapidated shacks rotting in the middle of the woods weren't worth the effort it took to ward them.
They moved forward as a group, fanning out and taking care not to break dead tree limbs or crunch fallen leaves. Their caution didn't matter though because the shack was alive with Dark magic and with a shout, Tonks touched a leaf that tripped a jinx that went straight to her heart.
Hermione heard a shout and saw movement and she felt the magic of curses and hexes singe the air. She heard DOWN in her head and she dropped to the ground and Stupefy shot from her wand. She was unschooled enough to be elated when a Death Eater fell to the ground, and then she panicked because she counted nine death eaters when they had hoped for five and anticipated six. MOVE hurt her ears and then Sectumsempra severed the branch where her shoulder used to be, and later she would think that she was crazy, but she thought she saw something reminiscent of approval in Severus Snape's eyes.
Moody was wrong; they were masked, and Hermione dove again to avoid the first Crucio. She landed artlessly but untouched, though her shoulder throbbed from the awkward roll. A moment later she forgot her shoulder when the second Cruciatus landed just above her naval. She dropped, and it might have been mercy that she didn't see Kenneth Towler forget his training and try to cast Imperio. The Death Eater dueling Seamus though, and instead, the curse hit Seamus and he froze in the middle of his battle. With a shout, Towler fumbled with his wand and dropped his eyes just in time to miss the bold flash of green light that took his life away. The Death Eater didn't live long enough to celebrate; Charlie Weasley took revenge when he took someone's life, but wasn't soon enough to still the look of delight frozen in the Death Eater's eyes when his mask dropped away to reveal it was Alecto Carrow who died.
Hermione's screams overshadowed Tonks' when fire erupted from her skin, but Tonks cast a hex that left Bella's muscles too soft to hold a wand. Hermione convulsed, curled with her nose touching her knees as she fought to differentiate the sky from the grass. The sides had been compromised in a furious rush of death and order and right then, her vision was blurred and she couldn't tell the difference between furious faces and light from the wands. She caught sight of Snape as he aimed for Seamus, who hadn't been the same after thirty-nine seconds of Imperio. She tried to cast a trip jinx, but she should have known better and that he was too fluid on his feet. She understood the significance when red Stupefy slipped between her legs and she leapt aside when Sectumsempra just missed her hip.
At that moment, there were two howls. One came from Moody and it was a turbulent combination of wrath and agony when Bellatrix caught him with Crucio as a punishment for dismantling the protective wards on the shack.
The second howl came from Alicia Spinnet. She didn't move fast enough to evade the Sectumsempra that Severus threw at Hermione and it flayed her abdomen from the bottom of the left side of her ribs to the hollow of skin that dipped between her hip bones.
The email for the account is tied to my phone, and I have absolutely no doubt in my mind that your reviews, popping up strategically through the day, saved several people yesterday, customers and coworkers alike. It was a rough. 24 days left!
This is completely irrelevant to the story, but my dog's dad and family KICKED BUTT at their show this weekend, and I am so freaking proud. Yay, Rebel!
Yours,
Threnody