"A hero is no braver than an ordinary man, but he is brave five minutes longer." ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

Chapter Thirty-two - The Beginning is the End is the Beginning

"This is exhausting," Draco sighed, shaking his wrist. It was a very precise movement that Hermione was showing him (a sort of exaggerated hand floreo) and his untrained wrist was not used to such a movement. His brows met in concentration when he felt his muscles begin to complain again.

"It's not my fault that you're pants at Charms," she said rather harshly, knowing that he hadn't taken the class since fifth year. Why people insisted on giving themselves a lighter courseload she would never understand; they were basically cheating themselves out of a good education and more job opportunities.

Besides, why wouldn't you want to learn all you could? Why wouldn't you be interested in gaining the most from your school to help you in the long run?

Draco looked over at her, wondering when she had loosened up around him enough to talk like that. "Well, you're pants at making me feel better about it, aren't you?" he said, giving up and letting his hand fall into his lap. "Besides, it's my turn anyway - "

"Let's think about this more logically," she interrupted, concentration clearly written on her face. "What are we going to need to know?"

"I thought we established that already. Apparently, an assortment of nasty charms and hexes, including this ridiculous - "

"It is not ridiculous! It makes the recipient unable to control his hands enough to send another spell at you."

"If that's all it does, then why is the movement so difficult?"

"Because the charm is very effective, obviously!"

"You are absolutely insufferable, you know that?" Draco muttered, rubbing some life back into his wrist.

"Yes, thank you for the news flash, anything else to report?"

Draco ignored her cheek and tried to calm down enough to think of a spell. "One you should watch out for is Incarcerous. They use it to bind you, and then curse the living piss out of you."

Hermione nodded numbly, knowing that she'd almost let that happen back in Bergen. If it hadn't been for Draco, and for Harry, Jesse, and… and Sasha, who knows what could have happened.

She shook her head to try and clear away her thoughts about the kind woman who had taken them in as if they were family. That kindness had been the only thing really keeping her together during that time, when Draco was so hard to be around. Her agitation was replaced by a sourness in her gut. "Okay. Anything else I should be worried about?"

"Quite a bit. Be wary of any curses that are red. They will most likely burn, or worse, be a Cruciatus - "

"How am I supposed to know what color a curse is?"

Draco wanted to face-palm himself. "Just… for future reference then, I guess."

"Right." Hermione realized that she was probably over-reacting to his lack of gusto over practicing magic to prepare them for their impending confrontation with No Name, but it had been a while since she'd practiced magic. She needed the mental work-out of remembering properties and movements. And though she would never admit it, she also needed the satisfaction that came with correcting someone who was doing it wrong.

It was her "insufferable" quality - the smugness she adopted when she was reciting information, the glimmer of intelligence behind her eyes.

It wasn't nearly as satisfying as it should have been however; while she could swear that she didn't get enjoyment out of correcting and teaching Ron, she knew that she enjoyed it more than she should. Draco was different; now that things had changed, she lacked the will to engage in something as trivial as that, knowing how little time they had.

It was why they weren't fighting as much. Had it been other circumstances, they would still be bickering like they always had. There would just be even more kissing to make up for it. They were forcing themselves to simmer down and just enjoy these bleak days, as to not go mad with depression and anger over the real circumstances.

"Do you know any healing magic?"

"A bit," Draco answered tiredly, not at all confident in his ability. "I know enough to get by. You probably know more than I do."

Now, why did his tone of voice make her cringe? It wasn't as if he was an idiot or something… he was very intelligent, both in common sense and spellwork. She was just more dedicated to studying than he was. Now she felt awful about belittling his abilities. "I doubt it," she murmured. "I didn't learn much healing magic. Truth be told, when Voldemort died, I thought that everything was finally going to be normal. Was I ever wrong."

Draco shrugged. "Progress takes time. Being optimistic isn't a bad thing."

Hermione smiled a bit, her irritation with him dropping completely. "Listen to you. I never thought you'd have that opinion about anything."

"I don't," he replied. "I just figured saying that would make you feel better."

Hermione smiled indignantly and reached out to cuff him on whatever surface was available; Draco grinned and ducked out of the way.

Unfortunately, their practice session was cut short later that night by an unsuspecting muggle couple checking into the room. Draco quickly said, "Petrificus totalus!" and gathered their things in the bag, ignoring the frightened eyes that followed him around the room.

Hermione was silent until they were completely packed back into the car, her breathing shallow as she smoothed her hands over her dress. Draco looked up as she muttered a spell suddenly and an apple appeared in her lap.

"Granger?" Draco asked as he shut his own door and placed Loki into the backseat. "I obliviated them, you know. We're still safe."

Hermione shrugged, rubbing circles on the surface of the plump fruit with shaking fingers. "I wasn't worried. I just did not want to leave so soon."

He nodded, though he knew better. It was a rather abrupt end to their relaxation period. Now they had no excuse to not trudge towards their fate. This thought bubbled to the surface of her thoughts, and Draco sensed it in the way she tensed up when he put his hand on her shoulder.

"Hermione," he murmured, brushing a bit of hair behind her ear. She shook her head at him, indicating that he had nothing to worry about, and all but shrugged his hand off.

"I'm fine," she muttered, her eyes shining with a mixture of appreciation and worry. Draco looked into their black depths briefly before nodding and starting up the car. Never had he wished more, in their time together, that she could see the expression on his face.

They had less than a quarter tank of gas left, so they had no choice but to keep driving on the road and walk the remaining distance through the woods; truth be told, Draco was looking forward to walking in the forest again. He could stretch his cramped legs, and even better, get a chance to be close to Hermione again before… things changed. He was unlikely to get an opportunity to walk outside with her after all of this, and even if he did get an opportunity, it would probably not be for a long time.

Hermione settled into the comfort of the seat and the rumbling of the highway underneath them, taking this opportunity to mentally prepare herself for the worst, overcome her fear of Master, and run through the lengthy list of spells, charms, and hexes that she knew, as well as their various properties. Draco looked over occasionally to see that her eyes were closed, and her lips almost imperceptibly murmuring. Her hands drifted up occasionally to imitate a particular wand movement, and Draco watched her some more, trusting the straightening highway to not offer up any surprises.

"You think very quickly," he commented, turning his gaze back to the road in front of them.

"I have to," she replied, her hands still imitating movements. "It's the only way I keep up with the information I try to learn, and the only way to satisfy myself."

Draco nodded, noting the bookish tone her voice had taken and finding it more endearing than annoying.

Near dawn, Draco found a rest stop and parked, knowing that the car was probably running on fumes. He turned off the engine and sighed, settling back into his seat.

"We're here," Hermione declared, knowing this despite her blindness.

"Yes." Draco got out and retrieved Loki and the bag from the backseat. "I think it will be too dangerous for Loki to come with us."

"It is. Though she is agreeable, we can't risk her getting hurt. I already feel bad about taking her to begin with…" Draco set the bag down and scratched Loki behind the ears. The grey cat purred and lidded her eyes, happy for the sudden attention.

"We can't exactly leave her here. Unless she were to stay with the muggles."

Draco thought for a second, then said, "I'll be back."

He went inside the rest-stop cabin with the cat, leaving Hermione standing by the car. She braced herself against the side of the car to regain a sense of direction; being in an automobile for the majority of a week had taken away a bit of her comfort with being on solid ground.

When Draco returned, he was no longer carrying the cat; instead, he held a piece of muggle note paper that held the address for the rest stop. "She's safe," he sighed, and turned to make sure he had everything out of the car.

Hermione nodded, waiting for him to take ahold of her and steer them towards the downward slope of the forest.

Her name is Loki.

If I'm not back to pick her up within three days, please send her to this address using the money I have given you:

Waldemar Estate, Blackpool Street, BATH, 31st W District, BA31 7GR, GREAT BRITAIN

This is of great importance. I trust you.

Even to an average passerby there were strange things about this forest. Draco knew that forests were partially destroyed by fires all the time, but the burnt wood they began to pass was different. The roots still twisted into the dry earth, and smooth, dark leaves littered the tops of the trees.

A cold sensation settled over them as they walked further in; the stench of dark magic was in the air, along with a sickening stench of great loss.

Hermione hugged her jacket to herself, only slightly comforted by Draco's protective arm around her shoulders. The sickening cold was making her feel increasingly more vulnerable.

They still had another couple hours walk before they reached their destination; surely Master would not be so careless as to leave this much of the forest damaged by her presence?

This told Draco two things:

Master was confident enough to no longer care about pretense and therefore:

Master had something big.

There were still protections up to keep muggles out of this area, but those protections did little against any Ministry officials - or other magical folk - who wanted to search the area. At least Draco didn't sense any wards put up to detect intruders; they weren't close enough to run into those yet. But the forest had definitely not been this damaged four months ago; this part had been completely unchanged when he had made his escape back then.

It seemed so far away now… that entire time felt like so long ago. Like he had lived an entire lifetime since then.

His arm tightened around Hermione's shoulders; she responded by leaning into his body slightly, obviously trying to soak up his warmth.

"Dammit," Hermione muttered suddenly, fingering one of the buttonholes on her jacket.

"What is it?"

Hermione shook her head. "What if Master gets in my head?"

"Don't worry about that now," Draco murmured, pulling the duffel further up on his shoulder. "Even if she does invade your mind, we have no valuable information to give her unless you are captured; she needs time to find the information she needs out of you. The only reason to keep her out is to avoid her torture methods."

"Well that's certainly comforting," she retorted, not meaning to sound so cross but unwilling to force herself to be calm about it.

"Just… try not to get cornered. We still don't know what they really want with you, but we must assume the worst."

"Yes, I've thought of that, thank you," she grumbled. She was slightly annoyed that he wasn't taking this as seriously as he should; then again, glossing over the seriousness of something was his usual defense when he was afraid.

Draco smirked a little bit at her annoyance and continued to lead them further into the Canadian forest.

By afternoon they'd walked so far down the mountain that Draco could no longer see the road above them; he stopped walking and set down the duffel in the foliage. The forest was getting progressively more dark and dismal, the trees becoming darker and thinner, and now lacking leaves all together. He tried to remember the last time he'd seen an animal scurrying around them.

"I'll have some of the cheese," Hermione said tiredly, plopping down next to the bag.

Draco handed her the box, retrieving a few crackers for himself. He was finally realizing how close they really were. He kept his mind relatively blank as a calming mechanism; if he started freaking out about facing Master now, that would upset Hermione. His voice was quiet as he said, "The general layout is this - there is one physical way in and out, and three fireplaces throughout the house. You can apparate anywhere within the house except for the dinning hall, where prisoners are kept…"

Hermione munched on the cheese, not really tasting it, but instead letting her mouth conjure memories of what the cheese had tasted like yesterday. "How are we going to get No Name alone?"

"We don't have to worry about if she's alone or not; we just need to make sure the alarms haven't been raised, otherwise, every Death Eater out there will come to her aid. I'll knock her out, and you can take care of anyone in the room. You don't need sight as much as you think, Hermione. Once she's been knocked out, we can kill her, or, if it gets complicated, I'll set the forest on fire, and the Ministry will be here in no time to see what's going on. They'll round up the Death Eaters while she's incapacitated. Meanwhile, we can slip into the shadows and make our way out, or use one of the fireplaces."

"I don't know about this anymore," Hermione put forth, finishing off the cheese. "This is all assuming that the Death Eaters won't kill us before we reach her."

"We'll be fine," Draco murmured, fishing out more crackers. "They're a surprisingly unsuspicious lot. The new hideout of theirs has them overconfident."

Hermione fumbled to understand this logic. She had grown to fear Death Eaters quite a bit. Master had forced them to train harder, as she'd heard; they'd be more difficult to duel than before. "One certainly wouldn't just stumble across it."

Draco nodded. "Correct. Of course, it has its disadvantages, especially since the Death Eaters could care less about what goes on in North America, at least for now. The location staying secret was the main priority, at least until things quieted down."

Hermione shrugged, a sick feeling settling into her stomach. She lifted her head. "Draco."

"Yes?" he asked, putting the last bag of crackers in the duffel and vanishing the box.

"Let's… let's not do this. Let's run."

He stopped. "We've come this far," he muttered shortly, zippering the duffel.

"I know. But… we aren't ready. We should have been training the entire way."

Draco scoffed. "You overestimate them. Master has no idea where we are - she thinks we are still in bloody Norway. Half of the Death Eaters are probably there, looking for us, and the other half are out working on side projects. There are likely only ten to fifteen still here, and I've never seen Master leave the hideout."

That at least calmed Hermione's nerves. "Okay. That doesn't sound so bad. It could be worse," she said, trying to reassure herself.

Draco's arm wound around her waist and pulled her close. "This is why I wanted to do this: Master is distracted right now. Distracted people make mistakes."

Cold air tightened around them, and Draco hugged her closer. "I knew, going into this, that it was likely to end. But we don't have to see it that way."

Hermione turned her head away. She didn't want to hear that; she wanted to hear that they would be staying on the run longer, and that they'd turn around and settle somewhere in Calgary, or further north.

Her imagination took off, and she suddenly pictured herself walking down a dusty trail, her skin lightly tanned from the sun as she carried a basket of fruit home. A smile she didn't remember she could make lit up her face. They'd be somewhere in Mexico, baking in the dry heat. Or Italy, siting on a porch and watching the sun rise over the horizon. She focused on him, but he was just a man with blond hair sitting beside her, wearing that smell, that taste, that everything that was his mind.

"Hermione?"

She shook her head slowly, focusing on that dream. Does this mean she left her friends behind? Is Master dead? How did they get there? These questions pulled at the edge of her vision, darkening the shadows, and she focused on losing herself in that feeling of happiness, that security of knowing that it could be possible.

He was fluttering outside of her mind, and was feeling an emotion she had never felt from him before.

She let go of the vision to let him in.

Suddenly, the air around them got so thick with dark magic that they could scarcely breathe. It was forcing them apart, forming a mud-like partition between the two of them.

Draco knew what this was; he had known as soon as her eyes had closed. It was the same kind of magic had tried to slow him down when he had escaped the first time. He pulled Hermione to him and shook her to wake her up. "Hermione, wake up! You have to focus, or they'll have you!"

Unfortunately, she had not been trained against something like this as he had. "What's happening?" she asked, drearily attempting to curl against his chest. The cold magic wrenched her sharply out of Draco's grip, and he watched as her eyes opened horribly wide. His wand was out, but in that instant, the incantation he wanted to speak wouldn't come out.

She gasped as something pulled her, backward, through the trees by her gut. Her screams lit up the forest briefly before they ceased.

"HERMIONE!" Draco shouted, reaching after her retreating form, but it was too late; he could not even see her. Instead, dark shapes filled the edges of his vision, and he could feel the fluttering of his mental curtains as at least three Death Eaters tried to access his mind. The alarms had definitely been raised; Draco could hear a high pitched keening in the air, though he was unsure if it was around him or in his own mind.

"Fuckers!" he shouted, his wand buzzing with the sudden amount of energy being pushed through it. He took a step towards the figures, but instead of engaging him, the shapes moved away.

He was shaking, waves of fear and hatred washing over him and chilling his core. The only thought that pervaded his mind was a distant, familiar chuckle.

"I'm going to kill you!" he shouted again, and the chuckling died out. He ran towards where Hermione was pulled, thinking desperately of what he was going to do.

As he ran, a single memory suddenly caught his attention; a memory of when he was at school and in trouble. He came upon a clearing and pointed at the sky.

Red sparks shot out of his wand like fireworks, sailing hundreds of feet into the air before exploding across the sky. He then pointed into the distance.

"Morsmordre!"