Author's Note: So, it's already almost 4:30am, but I realized that today's Halloween! So I figured I might as well stay up a little while later to put up another chapter. Happy Halloween, guys! (:

Chapter 86

"They're already coming," I say.

Harry takes the spot beside me and peers out the window. "Damn. It's so early."

There's still some time left before sunset, but I already see some dark shapes gathering just outside the Hogwarts boundary. Apparently they know not to cross it, because I haven't seen anyone get shocked and repelled just yet.

We head downstairs toward the ground floor. The numerous people in the castle seem agitated—we all know the threat that's coming. We kept to McGonagall and Shacklebolt's new policy of avoiding secrets whenever possible, so all of us are bracing ourselves for an attack. Most of them don't believe that Draco would turn himself in for us. And to be honest, if I were in their place, I probably would think the same thing.

But I know now that even if he wouldn't do it for them, he would do it for me.

Suddenly, as we move down an empty corridor, Harry drags me into an empty classroom and shuts the door.

"What are you—" I begin to ask.

"This'll only take a minute," he interrupts. "While you and Blaise were figuring things out in his head, Malfoy and I had a really short talk."

"About what?" I ask, repressing the urge to cringe at the thought of what I'd seen in Blaise's mind. I still can't believe that he would use the L-word toward me.

"I can't really tell you."

I raise an eyebrow. "That's a bit hypocritical of you, don't you think?"

"I know, and I'm sorry. I need you to answer a question."

"All right, what is it?"

"Do you trust Malfoy?"

"What do you mean?"

"Would you…" Harry sighs. "Can I trust him with my life?"

I frown. "What did he ask you to do?"

"It's a yes or no question, Hermione."

"I would trust him with my life."

"Would you trust him with mine, though?" Harry asks.

I consider it for a moment before replying. "Yes… I think so."

"Are you sure about that?"

I sigh. "I don't know the circumstances, Harry. How do you expect me to gauge his actions completely out of context?"

"All right, all right. I guess it's good enough that he wants the war to end and Voldemort to die."

"What does that have to do with—"

"I'm looking for a reason to trust him," Harry says. "I'm convincing myself—or trying to, I guess."

"Are you done, then? We should probably go," I say.

Then there's a very low, booming sound, followed by a voice in my head.

Today, I come not to kill all of you, but to retrieve a traitor. If you hand him over, my followers and I will leave without harming a single one of you. If not, we will not rest until each and every one of you is exterminated. Hand over Draco Malfoy, and you will survive. Protect him, and you will die.

The voice fades, and I exchange glances with Harry.

He chuckles nervously. "Strong sense of déjà vu, eh?" he comments.

I nod. "Definitely."

We exit the classroom and go down two more floors to the entrance, where a large crowd has gathered. Looking around, I realize just how many of us are here. We're at least a hundred strong—but that can't possibly match up to all of the Death Eaters in Britain…

McGonagall appears from the crowd and asks Harry a question that I don't hear over all the talking in the hall.

"We're sure," Harry tells her. "We'll protect Hogwarts."

She nods, lips pressed into a thin line, and instructs the people in the entrance hall to move into the Great Hall instead, where there will be more room. It's just too crowded out here.

As everyone files out of the way, Harry and I move toward the exit. Fred, George, Angelina, Katie, Ginny, Neville, and a few other former students whose names I don't know flank us as we walk down the stairs and onto the grounds.

It's only been a few minutes, yet there is already a sea of Death Eaters right at the boundary. They're motionless, eerily silent. What discipline.

Or maybe Voldemort's just in all of their heads, controlling them.

But I don't think even Voldemort can control so many people at once. Merlin… if our plan doesn't work, Hogwarts looks doomed.

Then Voldemort appears just outside the boundary, in front of his followers.

"Do you really think you can negotiate?" he asks, his voice magnified so that we can hear him even from a distance.

We walk until we're about level with Hagrid's hut before stopping. The edge of the grounds is still far away, but we'll be able to speak with him from here if we amplify our voices.

Harry points his wand at his neck and murmurs, "Sonorus." Then he says, "We'll only give him up if you send all your Death Eaters away from Hogwarts first."

Voldemort sneers. "Are you trying to buy your friends a little time? Do you think that my Death Eaters will not return as soon as I summon them?"

Harry doesn't reply, and I start to wonder if Draco miscalculated Voldemort's willingness to send his forces away. What if he gets impatient and decides it'd be easier to just attack?

But to my surprise, he lifts a hand and makes a gesture. The Death Eaters start backing away from the boundary. They begin Disapparating in groups.

"Fucking hell, how big is Malfoy on the Dark side?" Fred mutters.

Harry just shakes his head. I shift so that I'm behind Harry and pull out the heart charm, wrapping my hand around it and shutting my eyes. It's time. After sending the message, I stow the charm away again.

"Granger," Voldemort says. "It's been some time since we last met, hasn't it?"

I amplify my voice and reply, "Can't say I'm sorry about that."

"I told you that I would discover the traitor's identity, with or without your help," he says. "And now, I have."

"Congratulations, then," I say, infusing my voice with sarcasm.

The last Death Eaters disappear, and Voldemort looks around. "Well?" he says. "Where is he?"

Then there's a pop, and Draco appears several meters away from Voldemort, outside the boundary. My heart immediately leaps into my throat. I honestly can't tell whether this is Blaise or Draco.

He says something, and Voldemort's head whips in his direction.

Then, before any of us can react, Voldemort is at his side. His long fingers wrap around Blaise-Draco's wrist, and they disappear.

We're all silent for a long moment.

Then Angelina says, "Did… did that foul git really just give himself up… for us?"

Harry grips my arm, reminding me of our plan. "Go to him—now. We'll take you back up to the castle."

I nod and close my eyes, relaxing so that I'll be able to find the tunnel between our minds. I hear Ginny asking Harry what he's talking about, but before Harry can respond, I find the connection and get pulled in.

I'm on the other side, now… I think.

But I can't open my eyes. I frown—I can't hear his thoughts at all.

Oh god, he's not dead, is he?

I search the blank space frantically and find pieces of memories floating around. Then I hear vague, incoherent whispers and realize that Blaise could simply be unconscious.

Oh, thank Merlin.

"Rennervate."

Fuck, what a headache, I hear in his voice.

I'm here, I project.

Blaise opens his eyes, and we see a small room. He's seated in a high-backed chair, and when he realizes that there aren't any restraints, he immediately flips his hand over, flexing experimentally. So he still has full motor capabilities.

Why am I not tied down, then? he wonders.

"I am severely disappointed in you, Draco," Voldemort says from behind the chair.

"I thought you might be," Blaise says.

It was already weird to be in Blaise's head and hear his voice coming out of what feels like my mouth. It's even stranger to hear Draco's voice instead. God, I'm going to get a headache.

"Now, let's see. You will hardly be willing to tell me the truth, and I can no longer trust that your mind will open to me," Voldemort muses. "What a predicament."

Fuck, this is going to hurt.

You can do it, I tell him. Hang in there.

"What do you think I should do, Draco?" Voldemort continues. "I spent so much time working on you, perfecting you. You were going to be my masterpiece. Where did I go wrong?"

Sick fucking bastard. His masterpiece?

"Legilimency is still most reliable," Voldemort decides. "But we must lower your defenses before we begin."

He finally strides into view, and Blaise glares up at him.

"I don't care what you do to me," he says. "You'll kill me in the end either way. I won't give anything up."

"Oh no, I don't think I'll kill you, Draco. No, you can still be of use to me."

At these words, Blaise tenses up.

"I won't let all of those skills I taught you go to waste," he finishes.

"What will you do to me, then?" Blaise asks, successfully keeping the concern out of his voice.

"There are ways of controlling people that are far more effective than the Imperius Curse," Voldemort says.

God, that sounds terrifying. Blaise is thinking very quickly, so quickly that his thoughts are incoherent to me. For once, I think that he's legitimately afraid. And this might be his way of coping with the fear.

"Go ahead, then," he says in a perfectly steady voice.

How can someone whose mind is in such a tumultuous state remain so composed on the outside? I can't help but marvel at that skill.

Voldemort points his wand at Blaise, and I immediately feel a painful sting in my chest. But it's hundreds of times less painful than the time that I was tortured myself, and I know that Blaise must be feeling so much worse.

His mind is full of curse words and images of carving flesh and roaring flames. I try to project more soothing images into his mind, praying that it'll help. All the pain concentrates in one spot, and Blaise lets out a loud shout, but he sounds angrier than he does hurt.

It's going to be okay, I project. You're going to be fine, Blaise. You'll be fine.

Through his delirium, he seems to acknowledge my words, drawing strength from them.

Then the pain fades, and Blaise opens his eyes to see Voldemort frowning at him.

"And I thought you'd gotten better at this," the evil snake says. "Pitiful."

Better at what? I ask Blaise. Maybe he knows a little bit about what Draco had to do with Voldemort.

I have no fucking idea what he's talking about, Blaise replies.

"You make me feel like I wasted all that time working on you. How pathetic. Let's try that again, shall we?"

Lie to me, Hermione. I'm begging you, lie to me.

Then he's enveloped in pain again, even worse than before. I feel the throbbing increase, and he starts twitching in agony, grinding his teeth together in an effort to bite back his screams.

Lie to you? About what?

What can I possibly lie to him about?

Blaise lets out a low growl but clenches his teeth together again, jerking in his seat as he tries to shut out the pain.

Then I realize what he wants—needs—to hear.

I love you. Blaise, I love you. Hold on—you can do this.

I can feel his battered mind doing its best to pick itself up, and I'm surprised by how powerful a few small words can be. But even though I'm lying to him to give him strength, I'm still filled with guilt.

Blaise, I love you so much. You're the only person I'd ever want to be with. You're strong enough to fight him off. I believe in you.

When the pain finally fades away, Blaise relaxes into the chair, gasping for air.

Good job, I tell him. We'll make it out of here. We can do it.

"Slightly less dismal, but you've certainly regressed since Russia," Voldemort comments. He shakes his head and barks, "Bellatrix!"

Draco's aunt emerges promptly from a side door.

"I thought you'd like the chance to punish your nephew for betraying your family—when I finish with him tonight, he will not remember having a family," Voldemort says.

Maybe it'd be better if we revealed your identity right now, I say, starting to panic. What is he going to do to Blaise?

No. He'll go straight back to Hogwarts, and that won't be pretty, Blaise replies.

I'm startled by how collected his thoughts are. How did he recover so quickly?

He'll discover the truth eventually. We won't be able to hold him off indefinitely, I argue.

Then Bellatrix says, "This isn't him."

Blaise whips his head in the witch's direction. "Excuse me, Aunt Bella?" he asks, perfectly mimicking the intonation that Draco uses when he's mildly offended.

"You're not Draco," Bellatrix says clearly.

Voldemort frowns but doesn't speak.

"He would never take off the necklace Cissy gave him," Bellatrix explains, pointing to Blaise's bare neck.

"Very observant, Bellatrix," Voldemort says approvingly. "Let's see how right you are."

Then he's drilling into Blaise's mind. I throw up barriers with all my might—the game is up, but we can still buy at least a little more time. But Blaise isn't much help. Resisting the Torture Curse drained him, but he still tries to give me a little help.

Fuck it, Hermione, he finally tells me. Give up. Retreat into the tunnel—he won't be able to find the entrance because I have no control over it. He can't reach your mind.

But Blaise, you—

I'll be fine. If I die, you'll automatically wake up in your own body. Count to forty and check back in.

Are you sure?

I'm feeling extremely strained, and my barriers are being battered from all sides. What'll happen if I cave in while I'm still in his mind? Will Voldemort know that I'm here?

Go, Blaise thinks.

I disappear into the tunnel, retreating from his mind. The space is tight, constricted, and I don't really know where I am—I'm not quite in my own mind, but I'm not in his, either. I almost think I can hear Harry's voice…

Nervously, I begin to count to forty, praying that I won't suddenly open my eyes and find myself at Hogwarts. Blaise can't die. He can't.

But when I reach forty, I'm still stuck in the same place. I hesitantly reenter Blaise's mind in time to hear Bellatrix speaking to him.

"You must know where he is. Give up the location, and join our side. The Zabinis—"

"You should know I wouldn't do that. I'm not interested in becoming a servant to anyone," Blaise says.

Where did Voldemort go? I ask him.

He just stormed out, furious. He caught the bit about Horcruxes… I hope Draco's out of there already.

"Very well, then. We'll wait for him to come to us. I know my nephew very well."

Pfft, yeah right.

"He wouldn't let you rot in jail for him," Bellatrix says. "Of course, if that fails, he seems to be rather attached to Mudblood Granger. If we threaten her life, he'll be sure to step in."

I hold back a gasp. How—

He got into my head, Hermione, Blaise says. I couldn't stop him from taking a look around.

It's okay, I say, mainly to soothe him. He's Voldemort, for goodness' sake. But oh, this is bad.

Very, he agrees.

"Well, since you've chosen not to cooperate, I'll just have to lock you up," Bellatrix says, breaking the silence. "Good-bye, Blaise."

Then a Stunning Spell flies at him, and he goes unconscious.

I'm still in his head, and I realize when Bellatrix takes a few steps toward him that I can still hear.

So are his senses unaltered when he's unconscious? That's interesting…

"I'll take him myself," I hear Bellatrix saying. "Get out of my sight. I won't have you screwing this up."

About a minute later, I hear a gruff but respectful voice saying, "Madam Lestrange."

Bellatrix makes no audible response. Then I hear a loud clang and realize that Blaise has just been placed in a cell.

"Thank you."

The voice that says the words is so soft that I almost don't recognize it. No, no… it's impossible that Bellatrix could be thanking Blaise. What would she have to thank him for? It… it can't possibly because he sacrificed himself for Draco, can it? Does she really care about her nephew?

The thought is absolutely ludicrous, but I find myself considering it anyway.

Then Bellatrix's footsteps fade away, and I try to wake Blaise up, to no avail. I briefly consider going back to my own body, but I shouldn't—there isn't much good to be done at Hogwarts, and I want to be here as soon as Blaise wakes.

While I wait, I suppose I could go through his memories and see what he and Draco were planning. It could give me something to expect.

I start listening in on Blaise's last memory of Draco, halfway through what seems to be an… an argument? Between the two Slytherins, it's difficult to tell. Their conversation is calm, and from the dialogue alone, I probably would never have guessed that they were arguing. But seeing this from Blaise's eyes, I can feel every flare of anger in him.

There's an acutely painful twinge of jealousy as he admits, "I'd give anything for her to look at me like that."

It doesn't take a genius to figure out he's talking about me. Wincing at his pain and suddenly feeling extremely guilty for the intrusion, I turn away from the conversation. It's so touching that he would fight for my happiness, even when it means his heartbreak.

Then I realize that I'm listening to the beginning of the conversation. How did I get here? I start to back out of the memories when I hear a thought from Blaise that stops me cold.

Fucking hell, it was Narcissa who died, wasn't it?

I listen more closely to the conversation.

"How—" Draco begins.

"I know you, Draco," Blaise interrupts. "I saw the look on your face when you were recovering from the escape. Nothing else could have put that expression on your face. Was it your mom?"

Draco in the memory is silent, and I feel an irrepressible urge to cry. But I soon realize that I can't—I'm still in Blaise's body, and he's unconscious.

Draco's mother died, and he didn't say a word. Is that how little he trusts me? Is that how far apart we still are?

"She's… really gone," Blaise realizes aloud.

"You're not helping," Draco says shortly.

"I'm sorry, mate."

I tug myself away from Blaise's memories, hiding in the dark space of his unconscious mind.

I'd already anticipated that it would be difficult to make my way into Draco's heart. For some reason, he allows me to control him—he'll do almost anything as long as it's for me. But he doesn't trust me with his secrets. He doesn't trust my feelings for him.

He's such a goddamn paradox!

He doesn't hesitate to do what I ask of him, to put his life in danger for me. Yet he can't share with me the fact that his mother, someone who was so important to him, passed away.

Despair fills me, and I feel extremely cold and alone.

Is the barrier around his heart as impenetrably thick as the one around his mind?

Sometime later, I hear a faint whisper.

"Dartmoor."

Is that where we—where Blaise is? But I don't hear anything else, and I begin to wonder if I only imagined it. It's so tiring, waiting in the dark for Blaise to wake, with only my dejected thoughts of Draco to keep me company.

Then I feel him coming to. His mind stirs and seems to come alive around me, and it's a beautiful experience. The last time he awoke, it was on command—he'd been awakened by Voldemort's spell. But the natural transition from emptiness to awareness is magnificent to watch, almost like a sunrise.

Are you okay? I ask him.

Yeah, I'm bloody terrific, he thinks. My head is killing me…

I just heard a voice say "Dartmoor" to you, I inform him. Does that mean anything to you?

Dartmoor, Dartmoor, Dartmoor… no, doesn't mean a thing to me.

Why would anyone— I begin to ask.

It's Draco's doing. He knows you're in here. He needs—fuck. He's going to try to rescue me.

How did you make that leap? I ask.

He needs you to get our location to him. So go—now. If you fuck with his plans, he's just going to improvise, and that'll make everything worse. Go. End the connection.

But I don't want to leave you, I say.

I'll be fine. If they didn't kill me as soon as they found out, then they won't choose to kill me now. Go.

Wait—he can't seriously come himself. We can send people to—

The members of the Order aren't Death Eaters. They won't be able to open these cells. Tell Draco, Hermione. Trust him to do this right. He knows what he's doing, Blaise says.

I hesitate. This doesn't sound like a good idea. Didn't Bellatrix just say that she would be waiting for him to come? What if they're expecting Draco to show up here?

Suddenly, I feel myself being thrown forcefully into the tunnel.

I open my eyes to see a white ceiling. Looking around, I see that I'm in the hospital wing at Hogwarts.

Damn it!

I shut my eyes and search my mind for the tunnel, but it quickly becomes apparent that Blaise has managed to close it off. I struggle with myself for a moment. I don't want Draco to put himself in danger.

But Blaise is right. Knowing Draco as well as he does, I'm sure that his prediction is apt when he says that Draco will simply decide to improvise if his plan goes awry. Reluctantly, I pull the chain out from under my shirt and wrap my hand around the charm, shutting my eyes.

"She's awake," I hear Ginny say.

Yes, I'm awake. Let's just hope that both Draco and Blaise can make it through this awake. I focus on one word: Dartmoor.

Please, please, please, Draco, don't get yourself killed tonight.

Author's Note: I'm right there with you, Hermione.