I own nothing and nothing owns me.
Chapter Thirty-Five: What Happened at the Battle
"The saints can't help me now,
The ropes have been unbound
I hunt for you with bloody feet across the hallowed ground."
Howl-Florence and the Machine
The Room of Requirement was in uproar. The occupants themselves rushed around like a swarm of agitated hornets, helping each other up and drawing out their wands before streaming out the door after dosing out final shouts of encouragement towards Harry, Ron and Neville, who stood together beside the portrait that led into the Hog's Head.
Each time the door to the strange room was opened the sounds of the calamity outside poured in and they were reminded once more the gravity of the current situation.
Hogwarts was under attack. Voldemort had come.
"What are we going to do?" Neville asked urgently once they were the last three in the room.
"There's something we have to find," Harry said. "We don't know what it is yet but it has to be in here."
"Why, is it important?" Neville asked.
"It's the only way to get rid of Voldemort for good," Ron said. "Whatever this is, it's what's keeping from dying."
"And he left it in here?" Neville asked, looking around with a dubious expression.
"There's more of them," Harry explained. "He scattered them around in different places. We've been tracking them down and destroying them."
"That's why you broke into Gringotts."
"Yeah."
"But you don't know what to look for?"
Harry and Ron looked sheepish. "We heard there was one inside the school in this room, but never found out exactly what it was. It's likely to be a relic from one of the school founders, like some of the other Horcruxes. The snake is another one, the last one, we think. We came as soon as possible, but we didn't know any of this would happen today."
Neville nodded. "Right. Right."
Ron was on the verge of asking how exactly they would find the Horcrux in a room full of hammocks and discarded sleeping bags when he looked around and jumped.
Sometime while they had been talking, the room had changed. The room was even bigger than before, if such a thing was possible (and with magic it always was). The room reminded him of home, it was small mountains consisting of odds and ends: books, broken furniture, and locked trunks, and old sets of robes from decades ago. Boxes upon piles of boxes towered above them, mirrors stood tall and cracked every few feet and dead plants and owl cages cluttered the corners.
Harry and Neville had noticed it too, and looked around in awe and slight disbelief.
How would they ever find the Horcrux in all this mess?
Nearly shaking with urgency, they began their search.
What felt like ages later, Ron sighed and wiped his hands on his jeans.
"We're wasting time here, Harry."
Harry didn't seem to have heard him. He quickened his pace and dug through the pile of forgotten objects with greater fervor than before.
Neville stood. "He's right. The battle is still going on and we need to end it as soon as possible."
Harry ignored them, still searching. He couldn't leave now. He had to find it, he had to. But Neville had a point. Swearing softly to himself, he straightened and nodded.
"Once it's over we come back here. I am not leaving this school until we find that Horcrux."
They left the room swiftly, almost running to the main source of the noise. Ron yelled as an Acromantula scuttled past them into the adjourning hall, and would have sent a curse after it had Neville not stopped him.
"That would just get its attention and then it would come after us," he said, and Ron lowered his wand, pale as snow.
When they had arrived the halls had been full of battling witches and wizards but they were silent and empty now. Still, the screams and explosions and all sorts of calamity they heard now were coming from the courtyard, which was not far off. There were bodies crumpled about, Harry was almost afraid to look at them but did so anyway, and was relieved to find most of them wearing the damning mask of the Death Eater. But now and then they passed a schoolmate-Colin Creevey, Hannah Abott, Parvati Patil. They were all dead. Harry had checked their pulse, vainly allowing himself to believe they merely had been Stunned, but there was nothing he could do.
He wondered if he ever saw Hermione again, if she would be a lifeless corpse or as alive as she had been on the last night he had seen her.
"We need a plan," Ron said. "We can't just go in there and expect everything to run smoothly."
"There's no time to plan," Harry said. "We fight our way through. We kill the snake, and then I battle Voldemort."
"How are we supposed to kill the snake?" Neville asked.
Harry grabbed the strap of Hermione's purse and lifted it off his body, and gave it to Ron.
"The Sword of Gryffindor."
Neville's eyes went wide. "You have it? In there? How?"
Ron shook his head. "Long story. No time." He cast a quizzical look at Harry. "You're going to go to him alone, aren't you?"
"Yes, and there's a reason why-"
"I'm going with you, mate."
Neville scowled at Ron. "We're going with you, Harry."
Harry's eyes brimmed with tears and caught the two other Gryffindors in a tight embrace, acting out the goodbyes he could not say out loud. Suddenly he missed Hermione more than ever. He cleared his throat and pulled away.
"Go after the snake. I have to go alone."
"Fine," Ron said. "But you're taking the Cloak. You'll be captured if any of them see you." He reached into the bag, fished around, pulled it out and deposited it in Harry's arms. The fabric snagged a little around the pouch he wore around his neck, but Harry tugged it free. The slight weight of the Snitch rested above his heart.
"Go after the snake," he repeated, and disappeared under the Invisibility Cloak.
Blaise was still following her. Hermione let him. If he truly wanted to stop her he would have by now, but two minutes into their chase he had ceased to shout after her, especially when the Death Eaters came. Five of them had come marching around a corner she had just been about to turn, and took one look at her before raising their wands. Blaise's shout of warning reached her and she darted to the side in time to avoid at least three curses aimed at her. She could hear Blaise running again, coming closer and closer and the irrational thought that he had planned this ambush invaded her mind.
But that didn't make sense. Why would he free her and then let her be captured again? Hermione Stunned three of them and blasted the one closest to her down the length of the hallway with such force she could hear the crunch their skull made when he or she collided with the stone wall. Blaise reached her by then just as she dodged another body-binding hex from the last Death Eater, and before Hermione could retaliate he hissed the killing curse and the sole remaining Death Eater dropped to the ground.
Blaise held out his hand to help her up and she took it gratefully, shaken.
They climbed up more sets of stairs and wound through even more hallways as fast as they could until they found the Room of Requirement at last. Hermione paced frenetically outside the door, thinking, I need the room of lost and forgotten things.
When the door appeared they scrambled through and shut it behind them with a bang.
Blaise opened his mouth to say something but before a single syllable could be uttered Hermione darted to the incredible pile of objects.
"Accio Horcrux!"
Nothing happened. There was no time to lose, then. Shoving her wand into her pocket, Hermione began to push things around, throwing everything back over her shoulders as fast as she could, heart racing.
No time No time No time No time to lose No time No time No time to lose No time No time no time
"What are you doing, Granger?" Blaise's voice was soft, disbelieving.
"That tiara Draco talked about, the diadem," she panted, throwing a handful of books behind her. "I need you to help me look for it, Blaise. If we find it we can stop Vol-him."
"You're losing your mind," he said. "How are we going to stop him with that? What would we do-wear it?"
"Destroy it," she said, grunting as she pushed aside a heavy trunk.
"Ok..How?"
"One thing at a time!" was her curt reply. When he didn't answer she turned around and looked at him beseechingly. "Please, Blaise."
"Even if I do help, how do you expect to find it in all this rubbish?"
"I'll find it," she said, throwing a number of tattered school bags to the side after looking through them.
"This is mad," he said, and she turned around again.
"Oh, enough," she said angrily. "You want this to end don't you; else you would never have helped me or followed me all the way here. You could have left any time. You're doing all this behind Draco's back for a reason, Blaise."
Turning back to her work, she moved to another area of the room. Blaise could hear her rummaging through the mess, picking things up and tossing them away with great speed.
You could leave right now, a voice in his mind hissed. Just leave her. She's digging herself into this mess and if she gets caught or killed then it's all on her, not you.
But Blaise couldn't, because she was right.
He moved to the other end of the room, rolling up his sleeves. Reaching a pile of his own, he reached out and began to search.
Hermione climbed on top of several trunks to reach the oddly shaped package. A cloak of the ugliest shade of green she had seen in her life covered it, along with a moth-eaten witch's hat of faded scarlet. Grasping part of the cloak, Hermione pulled it back and threw it to the side, unearthing a marble bust of a beautiful woman. Cracked, dusty and chipped, the bust had definitely seen better days, and the visage of the woman was possibly the fairest Hermione had ever seen, but the diadem was the only thing she had eyes for, and there it sat proudly on the head of the marble woman.
No time to lose No time No time No time
With shaking hands she reached up and snatched it, then climbed back down the trunks to Blaise, who was knee deep in a sea of books and mouldy cushions.
"What, have you given up?" he asked, but trailed off upon seeing what she held triumphantly.
"I found it!"
Hermione could have danced. This was the happiest she had felt in months, excluding the times she had been under the influence of the Love Potion.
"How do we destroy it?" Blaise asked. Hermione closed her eyes and summoned forth in her mind all she had discovered about Horcruxes with Harry and Ron after the death of Dumbledore.
"Basilisk venom," she said softly. "Fiendfyre." Was there more? She couldn't remember.
Her happiness ebbed away. How would they destroy it?
Blaise drew out his wand. "I don't suppose you've got a bottle of basilisk venom anywhere on you?"
"Of course not. It's incredibly rare," Hermione snapped, and watched as he took the diadem from her hands and placed it on the floor.
"Step back."
"What are you doing?"
"Listen to me, Granger. Step back. Way back."
Hermione walked backwards, hit with the realization of what he was about to do.
"Don't," she said hurriedly. "It's too dangerous!"
"One of the very few upsides to being best friends-well, formerly being best friends anyway-with someone who's family is in the Dark Lord's inner circle and related to an insane aunt is that he passes things along quite often," he said, "I've learned quite a bit from Draco."
Looking at Hermione square in the eyes, he said, "Be prepared to run should things go wrong."
"Voco victus incendia."
The fire poured out of his wand; churning, roaring, more intense than any fire she'd ever seen and the figures in it charged forward with shining yellow eyes, devouring the diadem before their eyes. A strangled scream came from it as Hermione watched tensely. A puddle of a strange black substance bled from the diadem. There was a split second in which she was certain the cursed fire was going to go out of control, there was a second of silence and then, just before it could explode, it was gone.
Hermione sighed, feeling the tension drain from her body. Blaise approached her, smiling, wiping perspiration from his forehead.
"I think that was a success, no?"
Hermione nodded. "That was excellent," she said.
"You think?" he asked, and she nodded again before walking forward to inspect what remained. The diadem was beyond recognition, charred and twisted into a black lump. The sapphires were no longer visible-she supposed they had melted.
"Alright. We're done here. Let's go," Blaise said, catching her arm in his grip.
"I have to find Harry and Ron," she protested.
"Are you even sure they're here?" was his annoyed reply. "Last I heard they dropped off the face of the Earth, Granger. You could be risking your life for nothing."
"I know they're here." It was true, she could feel it. They had to be.
Almost at his wit's end, Blaise took her by the shoulders.
"He probably already knows you're gone, Hermione. For all we know he could be here now, searching the castle for you, and believe me when I say he will find you."
Hermione believed him. She had no doubt Draco would find her but she was a free woman now, as she always had been, and was determined to fight to her last breath. There was no time to be afraid, she had spent a year and six months being afraid.
"Look at me, Granger." She looked. "Come with me and I'll take you somewhere he can't find you. Forget about your friends for once and think about yourself."
She wanted to. Oh, how she wanted to. But she knew she could not abandon her friends when there was so much at stake.
"I'm sorry," she said. "But this is what I have to do."
Blaise looked angry for a moment, but said nothing. Awkwardly, Hermione clasped his hands in hers.
"I can't thank you enough for what you've done. If we're both still alive by the end of this I would be happy to clear your name."
"Damn it, Granger," he said. "You don't always have to sacrifice yourself. Save yourself, just this once."
Pulling out of his grip, she clutched her wand and walked towards the exit. Once she reached the door she turned around.
"Be careful, Blaise," she said. "Don't let Draco find you."
"Likewise," he said, watching as she left the room.
Seconds passed. Blaise didn't know what to do. Sure, the best option for him was to go. Far away and duck under a new identity for a while, perhaps. Maybe move to America and stick it out in the Muggle World until the war was long, long over and Draco's wrath had cooled over.
But what would that make him?
Smart, a voice in his mind said.
A coward, said another.
I am neither, he thought, striding towards the door. He had made up his mind.
Someone needed to look out for Granger. Walking out on her own like that, she was practically painting a bull's-eye on herself. Draco would find her in no time if the Dark Lord didn't find her first, and then all his work would have been for nothing. He would have betrayed his best friend for nothing.
Had he done the right thing, freeing her? One part of him said yes-no one deserved to live the way she had for six months. Another part said no. In helping her he had attached his own target onto his back. Draco was his best friend, but more importantly, a great ally. Draco had become one of the most dangerous wizards around-not as great as the Dark Lord, perhaps, but getting there. And now Draco would be out for his blood. Maybe he'd made a mistake, but there was no going back now.
Putting distance between himself and the Room of Requirement, Blaise hurried down sets of stairs, following the noise that echoed up from below. She couldn't have gone too far; it had been less than two minutes at least since she had left the room, he would catch up with her quickly.
Quickly was not enough, though. He might be fast but Draco was faster, and ruthless.
Just as he reached the landing there was a loud crash somewhere in the space behind him, but Blaise took no notice of it and kept running towards the courtyard. But the sounds were catching up to him now, whatever they were, and Blaise turned around, to find nothing.
Relieved, he turned back only to meet with a wand tip pressing against his nose and a silver Death Eater's mask, and then his world went dark.
The Snitch was warm in his hand as he entered the forest. Harry took a deep breath, and raised it to his lips.
Cries rang out around her, of pain, of fear or anger as she ducked and dodged and pushed her way through the melee. Casting spells whenever she could, Hermione made sure she played her part in the battle, stunning Death Eaters left and right, protecting her friends and classmates. She caught a brief glimpse of Luna as she darted past; Luna, her lovely face fierce with concentration and smeared with blood as she shot a disarming spell at two Death Eaters rounding on her. Hermione made sure to Stun at least one of them as she ran by.
Professor Flitwick was holding steady ground with ease, sending viciously sharp quills into the eyes of any attackers nearby. Someone elbowed her in the ribs by accident as they passed her, and she turned to see Professor Trelawny holding her wand above her head in a graceful arc, directing enchanted crystal balls to fly towards a group of Death Eaters battling students and explode in their faces. The sound of exploding glass and howls and shrieks of pain filled Hermione's ears as she went on. A flash of red hair caught her eye and Hermione wheeled around, expecting to see Ron, but instead found Fred and George dueling with three large Death Eaters, who seemed to be winning.
Shooting out one spell after another, Hermione stuck around long enough to be sure her spells had hit the intended targets and succeeded before moving on. The confused twins looked around for their helper, but finding none, bound their attackers by hand and foot, and continued on.
An arm knocked into her jaw and Hermione yelled out in pain as the accidental blow pushed her backwards. There was blood in her mouth, her teeth ached, and her lip throbbed red hot with pain but no serious damage had occurred and the perpetrator had fallen onto his front, his silver mask clattering onto the floor. Hermione looked up, wiping the blood from her jaw as she ran away and locked eyes with none other than her Head of House, Professor McGonagall. That the older woman was shocked was apparent-the Professor's aged eyes were wide with surprise and her mouth had gone slack. Hermione had no time to smile or say anything because she had gone too far away, and the figures of others in the room obscured her view.
A familiar set of doors, blasted apart so they hanged on their hinges came into sight and Hermione ran through them.
She had reached the edges of the courtyard, having chosen to stay hidden among the large piles of rubble lest anyone should see her. She was invisible right now; she did not want to be seen for many reasons.
The courtyard was eerily silent, considering how many people there were. Hermione looked around eagerly. Was it over? Where was Harry?
Despair. That was all she could see;it was heavy in the air. Tear streaked faces and stunned, defeated expressions made up the mass that had congregated outside. Her knees went weak.
No. Please, no.
And then the cry rang out: "Harry Potter is dead!"
The cold ground caught her. There was no air in her lungs, her body was not cooperating with her, and it would not allow her to draw more air in. A wail crept up her throat, but with no air to sustain it or set it free, it crumbled away inside her. The ache in her chest felt like it would swallow her whole, and for the moment she wished it would, for she had been too late.
Hermione wasn't sure how long she stayed that way. After a certain point her lungs kicked back in and she breathed in so much air she felt dizzy. The courtyard was silent now and carefully, numbly, Hermione picked herself up off the ground and looked out from behind the rubble.
Everyone had gone. Only Death Eaters remained.
A hissing sound nearby startled her and curious, Hermione turned only to come face to face with an enormous white snake. Hermione bit back her scream, not wanting to draw attention to herself as she began to back away slowly. The great reptile followed her, its odious tongue flicking out at her.
"Stupefy!" she whispered, pointing her wand at it. To her dismay, the spell had no effect. Voldemort must be extremely fond of his pet to protect it so, she thought. Another try yielded the same result.
The snake continued to advance. Hermione turned and ran.
She didn't get far-the snake was faster then she would have allowed herself to believe, and somehow found herself trapped in a little hollow made of rubble with a slab of stone jutting over the top, covering her with shadows.
How had she gotten down there? Her mind was still foggy, but it didn't matter now, did it, because she was going to be eaten alive by Voldemort's pet.
"Confringo!" she hissed. The snake twitched a little, but nothing else happened and it came closer, entering the little hollow and lifting its head up, opening its mouth wide as it prepared to strike.
Not like this!
She raised her wand again for one last try as it came closer, pressing herself into the dark, cold stone when a shout rang out as the quiver of something heavy and shiny whistled through the air from directly above where she stood underneath the slab of stone. A swift, clean slicing sound came next and then a heavy thud as Nagini's severed head dropped to the floor to join the rest of its body.
Hermione's heart beat frantically in her chest and she stayed still, not sure what had just happened. There was someone above her who had saved her. Did they know there was someone down here, and more importantly, how had they done it? It was clearly the word of a sword, but where could they have got a sword from?
Footsteps sounded above her and Hermione tensed, unsure of what to do. Whoever had just saved her was coming down to where she was. Did she want that? She didn't know, she didn't want anyone to see her but Harry or Ron or Neville.
Collective cries of shock and surprise filled the air then, and suddenly whoever had saved her took off running towards the noise. Hermione waited a few seconds to come outside, stepping around Nagini's body as she did so. More shouts. She chanced a look at the courtyard, which had filled again. Something was happening-someone was shouting something but she couldn't hear clearly so she stepped closer, making sure she could not be seen from where she stood. Dark eyes searched through the large crowd for any sign of Ron. She had to find Ron, he would tell her what had happened to Harry and
There's someone behind me.
Before Hermione could turn around one arm wrapped around her waist, a hand was pressed firmly against her mouth and even as she bit down hard on the hand and pushed herself away, it was too late. She had already been Apparated away.
A/N:
Leave a review?
Oh yes, please do!
PS: Voco Victus Incendia translates to summon living fire in Latin. I made it up. I know it sucks. Sadly I am not JK Rowling, nor do I possess her talent for coming up with wicked sounding incantations.
