Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or ideas which you recognise as being from JK Rowling's Harry Potter series or any other trademarked or copyrighted work. The plot of this story is my own, but I have no intention of making any money from it.
Chapter 22
The night of June the sixth was clear. Hermione was thankful for that, at least, as she put on her smartest suit, ready to accept the results in her constituency. (Not that there was much of a question about it – she knew already, as did almost all of the Malfoy Party candidates, that she was going to win by a rather large margin.
"Are you sure you won't let me at least check over the Arithmancy once more time?" asked Severus. He'd effectively moved into the flat by now. She wondered whether he shouldn't be spending more time at Hogwarts – he was still its Headmaster, after all, but he assured her that it was effectively a Death Eater training camp, and the few teachers that remained were too evil to need or want supervision. She'd very carefully not been to visit him there, after that description.
Voldemort probably knew, from his intense spy network, that they were living together, but he made no mention of it. Since Hermione's sudden arrival and instantaneous elevation to the upper echelons of the inner circle, they had become quite the Death Eater power couple, much to the chagrin of the Lestranges, whom they had supplanted.
"No, Severus," said Hermione, looking at him in the mirror. "I know you're good, but you've seen the figures, and I'm sorry but you just don't have the grasp of the Muggle Physics required to get through them! You know this, we've had the conversation. I've told you the result – as the central point of the resonance, the waves cancel out at me, so I'll be the only Death Eater in the room safe from the Golems. The pentacle will amplify the power to them, so they'll be shooting Killing Curses at everyone else with a Mark, including Voldemort, though he'll probably be able to stop them. He can't get rid of all of them at once though, because he's not the centre of their nexus – as their maker, I am. But, it should buy Harry time to get in there and kill him."
He came up behind her, "I know, I know. And Macmillan and Weasley's main task is to protect you in the pentacle, while the rest of the Order deals with the remaining Death Eaters. I just don't like the fact that Draco and I have to stay outside, playing watchman, while the real battle's going on within the circle."
"But you know that it's the only way," said Hermione, kissing his neck. "Anyway, you're the only one who knows the passwords to set up and take down the nexus, so you'd better stay safe. I have no intention of being stuck in that horrible concrete building for two days, dying of thirst!"
They both knew that it probably wouldn't come to that.
"I love you," said Severus suddenly. "I... love you. Somehow, Hermione Granger, I've fallen in love with you and I don't want to lose you. Stay safe tonight."
Hermione was gobsmacked. That, she hadn't been expecting. They were not the kind of people to talk about feelings, and so the words had remained unsaid. To hear them now, on the eve of battle...
He coughed lightly. "Ahem?"
She turned in his arms, and, looking into his eyes, said in return: "I love you too, Severus Snape. Please remember that, whatever happens. That I love you more than the world." She blinked a little. "And I will see you tomorrow morning, after all this is over, and we will both be safe and happy and well."
After a few more minutes, the clock chimed the hour. Six pm, time to go.
Hermione disentangled herself. "I'll just get my robes," she said.
She shut the bedroom door behind her, leaning back on it with a sigh. She hated all of this. At least all the subterfuge and pretence was almost over.
Carefully, she removed three envelopes from her knicker drawer where she had secreted them, and laid them out neatly on the dresser. With her usual attention to detail, she made sure that the corners were straight and in line with one another, before turning around, straightening her shoulders, and exiting back to the lounge where Severus waited. Just in time, she remembered to pick up her Death Eater robes from the chair where they were strewn.
She minimised them, and placed them in her handbag. Ready.
With one final kiss, Hermione Granger and Severus Snape apparated away: he to Malfoy Manor, she to the town hall of Flydale North. They would meet again at midnight, at the Malfoy Party townhouse in Central London, for Voldemort's victory speech.
X
Hannah Abbott was also taking leave of a lover. Dan, however, having no idea that she could be leaving for her death, was far more sanguine about the whole thing. Not for the first time, she cursed Hermione's secrecy spells, which forbade her even suggesting anything about where she might be going.
"See you tomorrow!" he said cheerfully.
She kissed him.
"You know I love you, right? A lot. Whatever happens, remember that."
"Yeah, love you too babes. Have fun at Milly's."
She kissed him again.
"I really, really love you. Goodbye, Dan."
He frowned a little.
"You're not leaving me or anything, right? 'Cos you sound like you're going to the trenches or something, not just over to your mate's for girly night in."
She gave a forced laugh.
"No! I must just be hormonal or something."
His face cleared. Men, she thought. "Well, say hi to Milly for me."
With one last peck on the cheek, he shut the door, and she drove away. It was only once she'd started the engine that the tears began to fall.
X
Susan was waiting rather impatiently for her outside the house.
"Come on! It's nearly nine." She pulled her jacket more tightly around her – it was only June after all, and not exactly tropical weather, despite the late-evening sun.
"Not my fault – try living in a place with more parking spaces next time!"
They were both on edge, which made the ten minute walk to the station rather strained. Each woman picked up the Evening Standard newspaper as she passed the now nearly empty stand, in order to have an excuse not to talk to the other.
This proved particularly useful when they finally reached the empty warehouse, only a couple of streets away from the townhouse that Malfoy was using as his political base. Harry had hired it months ago for the occasion.
As Susan let herself in with the large key, turning off the alarm with the fob, Hannah reflected on how ugly and depressing the building really was. It was a squat thing, at odds with the Georgian splendour of its surroundings. It almost looked as though someone had thought of the least fitting thing to put in that space, and dropped it there from above. One almost expected the whole warehouse to slink off in shame at any minute, and there was indeed a sense of discomfort in the slightly crooked grey metal shutters on the windows. Hannah was suddenly very glad indeed that they'd only be spending one evening there.
Inside there was nothing but a few empty crates, scattered across the concrete floor like tumbleweed in a cowboy movie. Ernie had suggested getting some drinks in, to relax people before the battle, but it was generally agreed by the others that to meet real live Death Eaters in a state of inebriation was possibly not the smartest idea.
Susan looked at her watch. "It's ten thirty. The order'll be portkeying in at midnight. I suppose that all we can do now is wait."
X
Harry tapped his foot impatiently. "Jimmy, what the hell's taking so long?" he shouted up the ornate marble staircase. The gold plated cherubim which were engraved on the bannister seemed to stare at him accusingly for disturbing them in such a manner, but Harry'd always thought that they were ugly anyway, so he didn't really care much.
There was a muffled shout from above, but no discernible increase in the speed of the other man's arrival.
Beside him, Draco let out an irritated huff of air. "I thought we were picking up Weasley on the way, not waiting half an hour for him to finish banging his girlfriend before we could go!"
Harry winced. "That's not it, I'm sure that they're just..."
But at that moment, Ron finally arrived, black hair mussed and lips slightly swollen, with a slightly goofy grin on his face. Draco shot Harry a look which clearly said I told you so.
"Sorry lads," he said, not sounding sorry at all. "I just had to... finish off."
With Harry and Draco still rolling their eyes, they made their way down to Ron's gold-plated Bentley. Really, thought Draco, as he struggled to get comfortable on one of the leopard-print seats. This thing and a hot pink Mercedes Benz? The man had an appalling taste for kitsch.
Ron tapped imperiously on the screen which separated them from Andy, their driver. "Malfoy House," he said. "And make it quick – we've got a party to get to!"
As they walked up the red carpet to the double doors, Harry noticed Colin and his camera among the paparazzi. Giving him a particularly large smile, and a raise of the hand in encouragement, he turned away and entered the lion's den. Or, perhaps more accurately in this case, the snake's pit.
X
Ernie, Seamus and Neville had been the ones dispatched to collect the remaining order members from the Weasley house in Italy. Ernie in particular had not been too upset by this, since it meant that the three of them had the change to spend a week in Rome beforehand, sampling all of the pleasures of that city. Three evidently well-off bachelors had no problems with finding amusements to pass the time. And the food was, of course, beyond compare.
Now, however, they had just entered the living room of the house as agreed: half-past midnight local time, so that everything would be organised for their arrival at midnight in England.
The room was crammed with so many people that the furniture could hardly be seen. They were chattering and talking, and wandering nervously between groups. Seamus saw the remaining Weasleys in one corner, Tonks and Lupin nearby. Kingsley Shacklebolt was there, as was the deputation from Australia – McGonagall, Flitwick, Hagrid and Slughorn, as well as another five men and women, who he assumed must be the local-born teachers. He shared a quick smile with the pretty blonde girl who had delivered Hermione's letter. All around were more people whom he didn't recognise – perhaps fifty all together. The sheer range of accents which he could hear in the various conversations around him was all but deafening in itself.
Ernie was trying to get the room's attention. "Excuse me? People, we have to move here!"
But the room was too loud – no one was listening.
It was Neville who finally got fed up. Putting his wand to his throat, he suddenly yelled: "SHUT UP!"
It echoed through the suddenly silent room, the sonorus charm clearly having done its work well.
"Ahem." Neville cleared his throat a little, but though blushing, looked undeterred. "Perhaps that was a little rude, but I've spent the last ten years dealing with university students. Anyway, we only have twenty minutes until we need to go, so would you all please just listen."
Everyone was. Though Neville's voice remained unnaturally loud, there was almost no need for it now, since he held the attention of everyone there.
"This is the plan. We're going to portkey into a warehouse in London, a few streets away from Malfoy's HQ, at five minutes to midnight, local time. Harry and Ron are at a party there as we speak, and at midnight they'll apparate out untrobusively to give us any last updates on the status in there.
Now, I think that Fred and George have already explained the outline of the plan, and given you the groups in which you will be working, correct?"
His stern tone sounded so much like one of the professors that even withches and wizards twenty eyears older than him found themseves chorusing "yes" like schoolchildren, much to Seamus and Ernie's amusement. Neville looked slightly nonplussed at the response, but rallied.
"Good. At midnight, you'll take your places surrounding the building, ready to enter it on the signal. Now then. Not all of you know this, but Severus Snape and Draco Malfoy have both been working for us."
There was a chorus of gasps and mutters, but Neville ignored them.
"I don't care about your personal affiliations, likes and dislikes – we're all working for a common cause. At a pre-arranged signal, they will apparate out of the building, and a golden net will go up, covering it. That's your cue to go in. Now, this net is going to keep anyone with a Dark Mark inside, so we should have them cornered. We shoot to kill."
A murmur went round the room, but no one demurred. These people had been exiles for ten years, and mercy was not at the forefront of their minds at the moment.
Neville pointed to the photograph he held in his hand, and enlarged it to cover one wall. Perhaps Hermione's primary school science teacher would have been amused to see himself, looking fearsome, gazing down over a gathering of witches and wizards. He would certainly have been surprised.
"This is a very complex illusion, created by Hermione Granger," explained Neville. "You will see two hundred and fifty copies of this man, all wearing green robes, when you enter the room. Do not panic. These men will be shooting aiming to kill Death Eaters only – if you do not have a Dark Mark, you will be safe, they will ignore you. Just do not get in their way when they're aiming the Killing curse."
An oriental looking woman spoke up. "An illusion, casting the killing curse? How is that possible?"
McGonagall was the one to reassure the room. "I do not know of this magic, but if anyone can accomplish such miracles, it would be Hermione Granger, the brightest witch of a generation. There will be time enough later to examine the whys and wherefores – for now, I believe that we have a war to win." She nodded to Neville to continue.
Neville bowed to her. "Very well put, professor. Ernie – if you please."
"That was quite some speech," said Lupin quietly.
"Thank you," said Neville, equally quietly. He was no longer blushing – Neville Longbottom had grown up, and was no longer embarrassed by who and what he was.
Pleased to finally have his moment in the spotlight, Ernie stepped forward. "It's time to portkey. Are we all ready?"
He held up a ball of blue fluffy wool, and began unravelling it. Holding on to one end, he passed it to Neville, the Seamus, who passed it to the Australian witch, who passed it on, until everyone was holding on to the string.
Seamus looked at his watch. "Three... two... one..."
X
At a few minutes to midnight, Harry met Ron's gaze across the crowded room, and nodded to him almost imperceptibly. It had been a rather uneventful night so far – just another one of the boring political gatherings which they had become so used to, except that this one was punctuated by intermittent news of another constituency won, at which there would be a polite round of applause, and Lucius Malfoy would raise his hands in acknowledgement. There was, as they had expected, no warding beyond the usual Malfoy spells on the building – Voldemort felt secure in this, his moment of triumph. Draco and Severus had counted four hundred Marked Death Eaters in the room, out of about the six hundred people present. That was a large number, but the room was definitely big enough to hold them.
It must have been magically extended, though none of the muggles in the room seemed to notice. The "Great Audience Hall" as it was fancifully termed, had to be twice the size of the Hogwarts hall which Harry remembered from his youth. But there was no gleaming night sky on the ceiling here, just a repeated pattern – the Malfoy crest in gold filigree. There were columns in a neo-classical style all around the outside of the room, at the edges of alcoves in which currently stood waiters bearing trays and trays of drinks. To add to the grecian theme, in each corner of the room stood a huge black urn, stretching to the very top of the high ceiling. They were impressive, but somehow also terrifying in their very blackness.
Towards one end of the hall there was a large balcony, which stretched above the crowd below. This was for the upper echelons, and was a Death Eater only zone. Harry, with his seeker's eyesight, could just about make out Hermione and Severus, talking to a tall cloaked man and several other people wearing robes. The elder Malfoy was standing at the edge of the balcony, looking down over his dominion. Probably searching for his son, thought Harry. Time to go, then.
He turned to Draco, who was beside him. "I guess this is it, then." He made sure that his expression betrayed nothing, in case any of the Death Eaters in the room were watching.
Draco nodded. "I love you. Be safe, and get the bastard once and for all," he said, hardly moving his mouth. Then, he kissed Harry on the lips. A few of the more conservative politicians turned away.
With a small smile, Harry retreated into one of the darkest alcoves, in a corner. Its waiter had just wandered off to offer some more drinks to a very portly, very drunk muggle in the middle of the crowd. Once he was sure that no-one was paying him any attention, as Lucius was announcing to the room that he'd just taken Edinburgh, he disappeared with a small pop, lost among the cheers to everyone but Draco.
X
It was a few moments later that Ron appeared beside him, outside the warehouse. "I had to wait for some bloody muggle to finish at the urinal before I could get away," he said. "He kept trying to persuade me to give him an autograph."
Harry waved it away. "It doesn't matter, now. Let's go."
He threw open the doors with a bang, and entered into the room, now full of order members with their wands out.
Since he no longer looked like the boy-who-lived they remembered, Harry raised his wand and said aloud: "Expecto Patronum!" A brilliant stag burst from the end of his wand, and galloped around the room, bringing a small bit of peace and calmness to all it touched.
"Harry Potter!" rose the cry, echoing through the empty warehouse. Susan and Hannah were very glad of the silencing spells and wards which they had added before the others arrived.
Harry raised his hands in acknowledgement and supplication. Seeing a crate on the floor, he stood on it.
No one could say that Harry Potter wasn't a very good showman when he chose, mused Ron. He was impressed. It'd been years since he'd seen Harry in what his younger self used to jealously term "hero-mode". Only in his head, of course.
"Yes, I'm Harry Potter," he said. "I'm not going to make a speech – you don't need one. We all know what we're here to do – end this, once and for all. You all know where your positions are, you all know what you need to do. Just remember this – we're not just fighting for us. We're fighting for our children, and our children's children. We're fighting for all those who weren't lucky enough to escape, for all those whom we have lost." His eyes lingered on the Weasleys. "We're fighting for all those who have been living under a tyrannical and evil rule for the last ten years. We're fighting for the freedom of the Wizarding world. This is the Order's last stand. Tonight, we'll defeat him, or we'll die trying."
The roar was so deafening that you'd have thought there was a football stadium's worth of people in that room, rather than just fifty.
X
Little did Harry know, as he was making his speech, Voldemort was making another. It had not been thirty seconds since Harry left the room, when suddenly it burst into light, and the cloaked man threw off his disguise.
The snake-like eyes surveyed the room, much as Lucius Malfoy's had done moments before.
Hermione and Severus, having known was was coming, squeezed each others' hands tightly, before separating. Hermione stepped forward, to just behind the Dark Lord, next to Lucius and Bellatrix (who looked really rather upset by her exalted position). At the same time, Severus began surreptitiously backing away, melding into the crowd of black-robed Death Eaters.
There were a few screams from down below, as the Muggles present took in the fact that there was a monster standing above them, talking. These were quickly muffled by the Death Eaters in the crowd, who, far outnumbering the Muggles, made quick work of silencing and capturing them in cruel bonds of fire which burned their skin. The Death Eaters were under orders not to kill yet, however. Voldemort wanted some Muggles to survive, to hear about his plans.
"My friendssssss," he hissed.
The room was silent, filled with anticipation. "The hour of the new world has come!"
A cheer rang through the room. Hermione smiled grimly, beside him. That was certainly true.
"Tonight, we shall destroy London! Tonight, you will witness the arising of my new army. Too long I have directed from the shadows – now, behold the rise of Lord Voldemort!"
He waved his wand, and the Dark Mark shot out of the end, to more cheers.
"My faithful servant, Helena, your time has come," said the Dark Lord. "Step into the light of your Lord Voldemort, and create my army!" Hermione did not hear the two small pops of apparition, but she was instantly aware through the Mark that Draco and Severus, to whom she had become most attuned, were no longer in the room. She hoped that they got the net up before anyone else noted the same thing.
Lord Voldemort had burned the pentacle of Appolonius into the floor of the balcony. Good.
He raised a hand, and suddenly, the four urns at the edges of the room smashed with a loud bang, which startled even many of the Death Eaters. A torrent of black sand fell from them, knocking over people and furniture alike. The crowd rose, coughing and muttering.
Then, all was silent.
Hermione took a deep breath. It seemed to be the loudest sound in the universe.
Then, she stepped into the pentacle, raised her wand, and began to cast.