Chapter 70: The Long Night
-Five Months Later-
-Draco-
The sun was gone. The sky was dark.
I stood on the battlements on the walls around Hogwarts, I looked beyond the huge wards, towards the village on the horizon. Or rather, the former village, which was now a collection of piles of ashes. I could see the occasional chimney in the darkness, standing like spectres of the dead houses.
That was the reality of wizarding Britain, and would continue to be. The Ministry fell yesterday, Death Eaters roamed across the country freely, doing what they wanted, without repercussions or penalty.
After months of everyone waiting for it to happen, the ministry had crumbled, and Voldemort was in control, deciding everything and over everyone.
Except in one place.
I looked below, to the countless tents which were erected outside the walls. People, families were inside, praying that Hogwarts' gates would open, letting them inside. To safety, to warmth and to hope.
"What do you think?" Montague said. "Will they let them in?" He, like me, was clad in a thick coat with a phoenix on it. I also knew that he, like me, hadn't been to a single meeting. Every day, I woke up, was given an instruction of what to do after classes were over, and then left alone.
Everyone watched me like hawks. Despite Potter's memory and Snape's help, some were convinced that I was a spy for Voldemort. It didn't matter that my mother's head had been put on a stake outside the castle a week after I left the Death Eaters. It didn't matter that my father was being tortured alive every moment he was conscious, if he was not dead too.
I shrugged. "Will they let them in?" I repeated. "No fucking clue, but they called for a council today, that must mean something will happen, right?"
"Bet it will take a year before they reach a decision, they're slower than snails, those lot," Montague said. He reached inside his pocket, taking out a package of cigarettes. "You want one?"
I shook my head. "No, I want a clear head, just in case."
Montague snorted. "Suit yourself," he said.
Montague had joined the Order right after Dumbledore's funeral, along with a couple of more younger recruits.
I knew for a fact that every Weasley was a member, except the two youngest ones. A couple of people who I'd seen in the castle as students had joined too, some of Harry's old quidditch teammates were among them.
And then there was Delacour, who made me flinch every time I walked past her. I couldn't forget the fact that I had been plotting to do that to her.
She was a walking reminder of what I really was.
Some of the recruits wanted to fight the good fight, but I knew the truth, most of them wanted safety beyond the walls. Voldemort would never take the castle, not as long as the protections stood in place.
"Do you really think he's alive?" Montague said. It was the question on everyone's mind, the question everyone who walked up to me asked me.
I looked up into the sky, which was dark as ink. Even during the days, the sky was a dark grey shade; one rarely saw the sky those days, it couldn't penetrate the clouds, which grew darker and thicker with every day.
And every time, I answered the same thing.
"Yes," I said. It wasn't lost on anyone that I was the last one alive to speak to Potter before he left. "He was going to America, to finish some business, then he would be back, he promised."
"You've said so," Montague said. "But they didn't find him there, did they? We can't wait forever Draco, sooner or later, he-who-must-not-be-named will find a way through those walls and kill us all."
"If Potter doesn't want to be found, they won't find him," I said.
Montague blew out a large cloud of smoke. "If you say so. See you inside, Draco."
"See you, stay safe," I said. I sent a glance at my watch. Only five hours left, then I could go inside, into warmth.
-()-
-Hermione-
The refurbished classroom on the second floor filled slowly. People of the Order's council slowly came from their quarters, ready to cast their vote.
The Order had required an expansion, but the council was made up of 20 members, trusted and firm in their stance against evil.
Moody sat at the edge of the table, the marauder's map resting beneath him. "Attention," he said. "Settle down, we've got lots to talk about."
The murmur of chatter died down, until silence reigned.
Moody surveyed each and every one of us, his crazy eye spinning wildly in its socket. "First things first," he said. "What do we do about the refugees?"
Kingsley held his hand up. Moody gestured to him. "They've come here to survive," he said. "How can we just let them stay outside? They'll be slaughtered if we don't let them inside soon."
"We can't afford to take them in," I said. "There could be Death Eaters hidden among them."
"So what? We're going to kill thousands because a few of them might be spies?" Kingsley said.
There was a murmur of agreement.
"I don't like it either," I said. "But this is war. We have to make the hard decisions too, not only the right ones."
"It doesn't mean we have to give our humanity up," Kingsley said, folding his arms.
Moody cleared his throat. "Professor Sprout, if we were to take them in, how would that impact our food stores?"
"The Greenhouses are already working overtime," she said. "But we can build more, I'm sure some of them would be willing to help with that. That would require more workers though, I'm afraid."
"That can be arranged," Moody said. "And if we take them in, where would we house them?" He turned to McGonagall. "Minerva, would there be enough space in the castle?"
McGonagall sat on her chair, a frown on her face. She had become headmaster after Dumbledore's death. "The second floor is full from the Order and their families," she said. "Fourth and fifth floors are reserved for the students. I'm not sure the dungeons would be enough, even if we add the classroom on the third, sixth and seventh floors. Do we know how many are outside?"
"Remus and I approximated 2000 during our patrol today," Tonks said "But if word gets out that we're letting people in, there's bound to be more."
"Well, we've already decided to keep the sixth and seventh floors clear, in case something else happens in the room of requirement," Moody said. "But if they don't fit in the castle, what do we say about outside the castle, but inside the gates?"
There was a murmur among the group, people whispered to each other around the table.
"That would grant an extra level of security too," Moody said, gesturing to me. "If it comes to the worst, we can shut the doors to the castle, which would keep us safe inside."
"We should at least demand that some of them participate in patrols," I said. "We can put them on the north side, where we're a little thin. And they should be expected to fight, when the time comes."
Moody hummed. "That's a good idea. Alright, let's vote, then."
The motion passed with eighteen votes to two, making the decision to let the refugees in.
"Good," Moody said. "Now, Remus, how's the outside looking?"
Remus sat up straighter in his chair. "It's quiet," he said. "Ever since the Ministry fell, there has been next to nothing."
Moody frowned. "That's concerning. What do you think?"
"Me and Tonks tracked Dolohov one night, he's become a regular at a pub in London, always leaves drunk." Remus looked around the group. "He went to a storage building in the outskirts of the city, heavily guarded, and if we are right, Voldemort's headquarters."
"We have no power to make a move against him," Moody said. "The question is this: now that the Ministry has fallen, do we think he'll hit us next?"
One could hear a pin drop.
"He must, right?" I said. "As long as Hogwarts stands, he hasn't won. We're the only thing standing between him and total dominion over Britain."
"For all we know, he may have already won," Podmore said. "No one here can kill him, not even everyone in this room together would be able to do that."
"But we can try," I said. "Hogwarts hasn't been breached once, and we've strengthened the defences since the war started, we can hold out."
"We can hold out, yes," Podmore said. "But we've got thousands of kids in the castle, soon many thousands more refugees. For how long will they accept living in tents and food on rations?"
"They've got safety," I said. "They can be happy about that. At least, inside here, they're not dead."
There was a general murmur of agreement around the table, making me smile with a hint of satisfaction.
"Voldemort is gathering his forces," Snape said from his corner on the table. "When he has all the power at his disposal, the castle will fall, there is no stopping that."
"Why?" Podmore said. "Because you'll switch sides again?"
"Hogwarts wasn't made for a siege," Snape said. "It is a school, despite what we've done with it." He sneered. "The wards have been growing weaker every day since Dumbledore died, we can't wait this out forever. Sooner or later, there will be a fight, and someone will have to kill the Dark Lord. . . and I don't see anyone in this room up for the task."
"What do you want to do, then?" I asked. "Attack Voldemort? Throw ourselves into death?"
"When he breaches these walls, everyone inside this room will die, but not before horrible torture," Snape said. "This is a question of time." He leaned back in his chair. "We need to go and try to find him again," he said. "Potter may be a mentally unstable murderer, but he can fight, and right now, that is exactly what we need."
"Everyone knows he can fight by now," Moody said. "There's not a soul in Britain who hasn't seen the picture of him surrounded by the bodies."
"Perhaps," Snape said. "But that doesn't change the fact that Potter is the symbol for the fight. We've been trying to light a candle without fire. We need someone who the people know will fight, and that person is Potter, despite his flaws."
"He's a murderer," I said. "He killed people who surrendered and people who were beaten, people won't get behind that."
"They will," Snape said. "Because he can win. We can't win, Potter can win. It's pretty simple, even for you, Granger."
"It doesn't matter. He's gone," I said. "Moody couldn't find him, Remus couldn't, Tonks couldn't, not even I could. He's been gone for five months now, I think we all need to accept that he is dead."
"He is not dead," Snape said, sounding very certain. "If Potter was dead, we'd know about it."
"Fine," I said. "But if he's not dead, then he's gone. If he hasn't shown his face in five months, I think we need to accept the fact that he abandoned us, he gave up."
"Ms. Granger," Snape said. "You call yourself his best friend, so I ask you, have you ever seen Potter give up?"
-()-
-Rowena-
The old Riddle manor was supposed to have been abandoned long ago, according to the locals. I had already skimmed through the entire place once, but the sources that lead to Nagini were becoming fewer every day. The snake was hidden, like I knew it would be.
It still existed though, and that meant that it could be found. No matter where it was, what concealed it or who knew about it, I could find it.
I felt the little notebook become warm in my pocket, I rolled my eyes. The horcrux had tried to convince me more than once to go looking for her lost apprentice, but that was no concern of mine.
The boy was weak, and the horcrux made a mistake in making him the apprentice.
I took the notebook out.
"Voldemort's base," it read. "The Order thinks it is in an abandoned warehouse in London."
I stroked my chin. That was certainly a better place to start looking for Nagini than this place.
Walking inside would be unwise, I decided. If Nagini was there, she would disappear before I got my hands on her, if I walked in, guns blazing.
No, another strategy had to be employed. Infiltrate, identify, then, I could make my move.
I smiled and put the notebook away as a thought struck me.
Perhaps Bellatrix Lestrange could be brought back from the dead.
-()-
-Daphne-
I rubbed my eyes as I woke up. The bed stank of wine, I tore the cover away to see a red stain on the mattress.
"Fuck," I said, tearing the sheet off.
I tip-toed downstairs, trying to make my way to the washing-room as quietly as possible, the damnable house-elf still didn't listen to a word I said, which meant I had to do all the work myself.
The light turned on above me, casting the corridor in light.
Rabastan Lestrange stood in the corridor, smiling at me. "I thought women had ways to prevent such things from happening," he said.
My grip on the sheets tightened. "It's— It's not that, okay?"
"Sure," he said, smiling knowingly. "Just put them in the washing-room, same place as last time."
"Thank you," I said, brushing past him with the sheets folded into a mess in my arms. Not for the first time, I wanted to strike out, strangle him alive with the sheets stuffed down his throat.
"Vermi!" Rabastan shouted as I came into the kitchen. The sickly-looking house elf appeared, his ears still red from his mistake yesterday. "The girl is up, bring the meal."
The elf disappeared again, to return a moment later with a plate of food. If it could be called food, it was a paste, almost liquid, and smelled like dead fish.
Rabastan picked up the newspaper lying on the table.
Hogwarts Insurgents Refuse to Release Hostages!
The same sentiment had been told since a couple of days ago, ever since Scrimgeour was replaced as Minister by Umbridge.
I picked the plate with all the food up, and walked up the stairs carefully, making sure not to spill a single drop of water.
Rabastan always told Vermi to fill the glass to the brink, and if I spilled, well, that was a memory I would quite like to forget, but wouldn't, not ever.
The door closest to the stairs stood slightly ajar, as it always did. I opened it carefully and stepped inside.
The window was open, showing the grounds below. They weren't well kept, with the bushes overgrown and the flowers arranged in a chaos of colour.
By the window, lying on the bed, her eyes wide open, was Bellatrix. I sat down on the stool next to her, and as usual, her black eyes showed no recognition, they only stared ahead dimly.
I swallowed and picked the spoon up, digging into the meal and moving it towards her mouth.
When the spoon touched her lips, they parted ever so slightly, allowing me to force the food inside. Then, after I took the spoon out, she chewed it for what must have been a minute, before swallowing.
She was alive, Rabstan insisted. I knew for a fact the Dark Lord didn't agree, nor did any of the other Death Eaters. Nor did I. What kind of life did she actually live?
Her mind was dead, it was just that her body wasn't.
Once she had finished the entire meal, I sat next to her in silence, enjoying my few moments of calm and peace.
As always, when I looked outside, I couldn't help but compare the grounds to my own home. My home was much prettier with a perfectly cut lawn and the finest flower.
Until I destroyed it, that is. My home was nothing but ruins.
I hadn't seen my sister, or my parents in months. They were inside Hogwarts, safe and on the other side.
But they were safe, that was all that was important, they weren't there of their own choice, I was sure. The Order kept them trapped there, hostages for the moment they could deal with me.
I was the murderer of Albus Dumbledore; in my few encounters with Order members since that night, I had seen more than one green light fly towards me.
There was a loud crash outside, I jumped to my feet and looked outside.
I saw nothing, and bounded down the stairs, wand in hand.
I pushed the door open, ready for the Order to finally have broken down the defences. Instead, I saw Rabastan, standing over the corpse of a dog.
"He's dead," Rabastan said. "What would Rodulphus say?" he muttered to himself. He turned around. "What would Rodolphus say?" he screamed at me.
"I don't know," I said. "He's–"
"I know he's dead!" Rabastan roared. "Thanks to your little boyfriend." He stormed up to me, stopping right before our bodies touched. I kept my eyes on the ground. "You're treading thin ice," he said. "The next time you do something like this, I'll catch you in the act!"
"I didn't–"
But Rabastan had already stalked off, leaving the dog's corpse behind. I walked up to it, observing it. It looked to have been attacked by some kind of bird, a bird with sharp claws.
-()-
-Draco-
I fell into my bed with a loud sigh. My eyes hurt, the muscles around them exhausted from squinting all day long.
The soft velvet beneath me felt like clouds made solid, a touch from heaven.
I reached in under my mattress, and took the photograph out. Just as it had been previously, I saw myself, my father, my mother. All of us together, happy.
It was all that was left of them.
That, and the ghosts remaining in my memories, haunting me every night before I went to sleep.
I killed them, for nothing. Potter gave up.
Yet I felt no anger towards him, I felt nothing at all. I just stared at the ceiling, desperately wanting to fall asleep, so I could wake up the next day, go back on patrol and think about Death Eaters, the Order and the wizarding world.
I didn't want to think about myself.
After a while, I drifted off, into sleep, just to wake up hours later, feeling as if my eyes had only been closed for a second.
Blaise was resting in the bed next to me, his usually well-tanned features pale and ghastly after being locked in the castle for so long.
Not a single student was allowed to leave the castle, if you weren't on guard duty; and only people who were of age and relatively trusted were allowed to go on that.
I yawned, and got out of bed, taking a quick shower, the water was cold as ice. Once I got out, I looked at myself in the mirror, noting how my eyes were sunken into my skull, like a pair of rocks thrown into the sea.
Once dressed, I walked outside the classroom all the Slytherin boys were forced to sleep with. The dungeons had turned into a storage area for the countless amounts of food, water and necessities needed to run the castle.
The two rooms for the Slytherin were by far the emptiest, and still, each gender for the other three houses had two rooms each. We could move freely and spread things out, whereas Lucas, who stayed in the Ravenclaw dorm, had one bunk bed to live on and keep his things around.
That bunk bed was his life, apart from the few classes.
I scratched my head. Two hours of patrol before breakfast, then I had the weekly lesson with Flitwick. After that, lunch, then patrol until late in the evening. If I was lucky, I might get a second or two to talk to Blaise, or Lucas, or anyone.
The few Order members who were already up, their cup of coffee in hand, ignored me as I walked past.
No matter how many times they looked at Potter's memory, the glares and the sneers didn't stop.
I was lucky to be allowed to me relatively freely, I guessed. If Granger got her way, I would have been imprisoned, just like Astoria was.
The grass on the grounds was brown, with patches of dead grey. In the distance, next to the black lake, Flitwick was busy with some members of the Order with setting up huge tents.
I put my hands in my pockets and walked on, towards the battlements around the walls.
Mr. Ulrich, the man responsible for the patrol around the gates, jotted my name down as I walked past, not saying a word to me.
The west wall, that was where I was supposed to be.
Clouds filled the sky, allowing none of the sun to slip through; the entire school was resting in the grey light. It looked as if the colour was slowly seeping out of the world, if the sun didn't return soon, all of the colour would be gone, with the grass black as ashes.
I grimaced as I recognised the lonely silhouettes on top of the wall. Corner was leaning against the railing, looking down on the fields below. Next to him was Bones and Abbot, all three of them former members of Dumbledore's Army.
"Hello," I said, waving at them.
"Hello."
"Hi."
"Morning."
They turned their backs on me, continuing the conversation muffled and mute to me.
I rubbed my face, fighting to not let my thoughts wander where I didn't want them to.
Below the wall, most of the people were awake, scurrying about, taking their tents down and pushing them down their backpacks. Every so often, one of them would look up towards the wall, and I would meet their eyes. Every time, I averted my eyes like I was scared of catching a disease, and every time, I felt ashamed that I stood up there, and let them remain there. I wanted to run over to the gates and throw them open.
-()-
-Hermione-
The tents were up, new greenhouses were being constructed and all the Order members were gathered outside the gates.
"You know the drill," Mad-Eye said.
He stood on the walls before, his eye was going to be working overtime any second.
"Constant vigilance!" he said. "If Voldemort comes, the gates need to close, no matter what happens."
The gates creaked as they opened. The crowd on the other side, people with backpacks and desperate eyes began walking inside tentatively, as if to make sure it wasn't a trick. When the first few got through, the people behind started running, desperate to get inside before the gates would close.
The Order members kept the crowd at bay inside, no one was allowed to set a foot towards the castle.
"My son is in there!" an old man said. "Let me see my son!"
The shield the Order was holding up flung him back towards the crowd. We stood like statues behind, feeling like inhuman monsters standing there, refusing to let them get to Hogwarts, to absolute safety.
But we were letting them inside, we didn't need to do that, but we did.
The crowd kept shuffling inside, the Order slowly having to move further back to increase the space. The first few people were herded towards the tents by the black lake, the tents which stood next to the large wall separating the camp from the castle itself.
Slowly, the crowd started to stream away, towards the countless tents, all of which would hopefully be enough for all of them.
The stream of people coming from the outside never seemed to end, like a river. Yet none of the guards on the outside reported any disturbances or Death Eaters; Moody didn't signal anyone to deal with someone suspicious in the crowd.
Yet when the gates finally closed, as the sun was halfway down the horizon, I couldn't help but look at the camp, where countless lights were now glowing, and feel as if we just threw away our safety.
How many Death Eaters or spies did we just let through?
-()-
-Draco-
I rubbed my hands together, cursing myself for not bringing gloves. There were five of us standing outside the entrance hall to Hogwarts. The other four, the Weasley twins and two old Gryffindor quidditch players, were standing on one side, laughing and chatting amongst themselves.
On the other side of the doors, I stood, resting against the pillar of the doorframe. I couldn't tear my eyes off the camp down below, right by the lake. There was a huge wall constructed around the camp, like it wasn't a refuge at all, but a prison, or an enclosed pasture land.
It felt to me like the Order thought they were herding animals into the camp; I'd seen the meals they were going to be served myself, and it made me ask how the Order members, living with their families on the second floor of the castle, could keep on eating their fried chicken and drink their butterbeer.
I couldn't help but ask myself exactly what I was fighting for. If the picture before me was what the future was supposed to be, then was it really worth fighting for?
I rubbed my hands together again, blowing them, trying to get the blood circulating.
It was better than Voldemort, I decided. Perhaps the Order wasn't as people made them out to be, but they were better than Voldemort, much so.
-()-
-Daphne-
I got out of bed early, sighing in relief when I found no trace of wine on my sheets, the bottle was laying on the floor, empty.
I jumped into the shower, relishing as the cold water ran down my body –Rabastan refused to allow me warm water.
Once out and dried, I brushed my hair quickly, and went outside.
Rabastan wasn't anywhere to be seen, but the plate with the food was resting on the counter, steam rising from it, the glass of water full to the brim, as usual.
I pushed the slightly ajar door open and stepped inside, there was no sun to be seen through the window. As always, everything was grey and dead.
I sat down on the stool, putting a loose strand behind my ear, and dug into the meal.
Slowly, I reached out with the spoon, towards her mouth. Just as the spoon was about to touch her lips, her hand shot out from beneath her cover, grabbing my wrist.
I froze, became ice.
"I'll do it myself," Bellatrix wheezed.
I nodded, giving her the spoon. Bellatrix black eyes didn't leave mine for a second as she ate her food.
"Bring– Bring me m-more," she said, laying back down on her bed. "Real food."
I nodded and stood up, like a robot, and hurried down the stairs. "Vermi! Vermi!" I called out as I entered the kitchen. "Vermi! She's awake."
The elf didn't appear, and I clenched my fists in anger. The fridge didn't have any leftovers nor did I see anything in the rest of the kitchen I could cook.
I heard footsteps coming down the stairs, hoping it was Rabastan, but no, Bellatrix was walking down, her hands clutching the railing firmly. "Vermi!" she spat out, making the eld appear with a stunned pop.
Without a word the elf hurried in preparing a meal, levitating five different frying pans towards the stove.
"Girl!" Bellatrix said. "Come here."
Feeling cold as ice, I followed a step behind as the woman made her way through the house. We reached an old parlour, where everything was covered in dust.
Bellatrix sat down in an old armchair, next to the fireplace whose fire was down to mere embers.
"Sit down," she said, her voice now clear, and hard like steel.
I did so, my eyes fastened to my feet.
"Who are you?" Bellatrix said.
I swallowed. "Daphne," I said. "Daphne Greengrass."
There was a brief flicker of recognition in her eyes, and she looked me up and down. "Aha, so your father swore fealty, in the end. That's good to hear, but why are you here?"
"I– The Dark Lord sent me here to– to take care of you," I stuttered. I still felt cold as ice. The woman in front of me had a list of crimes which made me feel green by just reading it.
Bellatrix smiled. "That was nice of him." She relaxed into her armchair. "Tell me everything that has happened since Gringotts." Her voice was solid as steel.
I nodded. "Yes, my lady."
So that was what I did. Sitting on my hands to keep them from trembling in front of the witch, I explained everything that had happened. Mine and Voldemort's plan, Dumbledore's death, the fall of the Ministry and the impending siege of Hogwarts.
If Bellatrix was surprised by anything that happened, she didn't show it, nor did she ask any questions.
Not even when I announced the death of her husband.
The door to the parlour slammed open, revealing Rabastan, who stood in the doorframe.
He swayed on the spot, in disbelief. "Bella," he breathed out. "How?"
"I swore to serve the Dark Lord until I died, and I'm not dead yet," she said, her eyes not leaving me.
Rabastan cleared his throat. "Good. Good. We've got to see him now." He glanced at me. "Girl, make sure that you change the sheets of our bed, it needs to be perfect for tonight. We–"
"No," Bellatrix said. "She's coming with me."
Rabastan opened his mouth, but Bellatrix gave him a warning look, making him bow his head and allow us to walk out the room.
-()-
Voldemort's base was in an old, rusting building in the outskirts of London. The rain was smattering against all the windows, making me pull my coat tighter towards me. Bellatrix was walking a step ahead, her head held high, despite having been in a coma mere hours ago.
What could possibly have woken her up, after almost a year in that state?
If it was pure will, dedication, I had to respect it.
Rabastan walked two steps behind me, like a sullen dog. His brother's wife seemed intent on ignoring him as much as possible, something which I couldn't help but smile at.
The guard at the entrance let us in with no trouble, his eyes wide upon seeing the infamous witch in person.
As I expected, the warehouse was at least ten times larger inside, with countless doors on every side of the corridor.
"Come on," Rabastan said, taking the lead. "The Dark Lord's quarters are this way."
It felt like walking in a maze –a maze where you would walk past someone with a mask every other second, some of them were carrying different items; I saw a skull, an acromantula in a jar and a painting whose occupant was roaring furiously at the masked person who carried it.
Eventually, we reached a corridor where the temperature seemed ten degrees colder, and where we met no one walking. The walls were bare, shiny to the point I could see a blurred reflection of myself.
"Come in," came a voice from inside, before we even had an opportunity to knock on the door.
Voldemort was standing with his back to the door, looking down at a table, where a large map was spread out.
I recognised it as a map of Hogwarts, with all the surrounding grounds.
We waited in silence for a minute, as Voldemort stood frozen, looking at the maps.
"Why did you wake up?" Voldemort said.
Bellatrix took a step forward, falling to her knees. "My dedication to you, my lord."
Voldemort turned around, his irises red as blood. "Your mind was shattered," he said. "You were dead."
"I woke up this morning, my lord," Bellatrix said. "All this time, it felt like I was in a dream, a nightmare, but this morning, when Ms. Greengrass walked into my room, I was dragged from my sleep, back to reality."
I got the impression Voldemort didn't believe it; nor did I, why would she wake up now, after all this time?
The incident at Gringotts when she had been put to sleep had been over a year ago.
"It makes little difference," Voldemort said. "You will go to the operation in Kent, where you will await further instructions." The Dark Lord turned to Rabastan. "Lestange, you will go to Italy. Mrs. Zabini will join you there, and you will have a discussion with our dear ambassador."
Rabastan kneeled. "Yes, my lord," he said. "I won't disappoint you."
Voldemort turned around to the map again, focusing on it like a solution would pop into place out of thin air.
"Daphne, Daphne," he said. "What will we do with you now?"
I swallowed. "Whatever you wish, my lord," I said.
"I wish you would choose," he said. "I am growing impatient with your refusal to choose." He turned around again. "I have been generous. I know you betrayed me, if only briefly, and still I honour my promise. Tell me any name, and I will give him to you. I will annul any marriage, kill any wife, break into any house, but dear Daphne, my patience is growing thin."
I nodded. "I've been trying to find someone," I said. "I went on a date–"
"I don't care!" Voldemort snapped. "Give me a name!" he said. "You fulfilled your part of the deal, and now, you won't allow me to fulfil mine."
"I will decide soon," I said, my legs shaking. "Very soon."
"I hope so," he said. "In the meantime, you will go to Dolohov's place. He has been–"
"My lord," Bellatrix interrupted.
Voldemort's eyes flashed. His wand was in hand. "What!?" he spat out, his eyes only slits.
"The girl, I'd like her with me."
Voldemort looked between the two of us. "Fine. You can have her," he said. "She's not useful for much else."
Bellatrix nodded in thanks, her black eyes glowing with satisfaction.
"That will be all," he said.
We left the room together, parting with Rabastan without a word as we exited.
Bellatrix looked after her husband's brother. "Poor guy," she said. "I wouldn't want my worst enemy to spend a night with Zabini."
I remained silent.
"So we're bound for Kent," Bellatrix said. "What do you think we will do there?"
"I don't know, Mrs. Lestrange," I said, looking at my feet.
Bellatrix started to walk along the corridor, towards the exit. "You can call me Bellatrix," she said. "And I didn't ask for what you knew, I asked for what you thought."
"I– I don't know, it could be anything."
Bellatrix folded her hands neatly behind her back. "Give me your best guess," she said.
"The Dark Lord had maps of the castle in his room," I said.
Bellatrix hummed, urging me to continue. "We're going to Kent, the base where most of the werewolves live, right?"
"And the vampires and inferi," Bellatrix said.
"Yeah," I said. "He's gathering his forces," I guessed. "He's preparing to attack Hogwarts."
"That was my conclusion as well," Bellatrix said. "But it won't happen for some time yet, I think."
"He should do it before Potter returns," I said. "They don't have anyone to challenge the Dark Lord."
"Hogwarts is an old school, Ms. Greengrass, it has defences you couldn't even imagine."
I looked over at Bellatrix, there was a small smile on her lips, she almost looked proud.
"No matter," I said. "The Dark Lord has giants, vampires, werewolves, inferi and his Death Eaters, even without the Dark Lord himself, they would win."
Bellatrix raised her eyebrows. "They?" She smiled at me. "Hurry now, Ms. Greengrass, Kent is a beautiful city. We should get going as soon as possible."
-()-
-Hermione-
The night was full of clouds, not a single bright, little dot managed to penetrate and glow in the sky. The grounds were humming with activity, the camp by the black lake glowing as if a thousand orange stars were shining up at me.
"Good evening," Helena said, appearing behind me.
"Good evening, master," I said, turning around.
"You're doing well," Helena said. "They're starting to listen to you, and the students look up to you."
"I'm not doing anything you haven't taught me," I said. "I would be nothing without your guidance."
"Perhaps," Helena said. "But we're not done yet."
"I'm part of the council now," I said. "We can actually take the decisions now."
"Really?" Helena said.
"So why did you let the refugees in? I believe I told you that it was a bad idea."
"We voted, and that was the decision that we took."
Helena hummed. "That is the flaw of democracy, is it not? Everyone is so intent on getting their own way, that it ends up in no one's way."
"What do you mean?" I said.
"You should have left them outside," Helena said. "Think about it, that group of people down there could turn against you any moment. If one person rebels, no problem, but all of them?" She shook her head. "How many weeks do you think it will be before the people in the camp decide that they've had enough of eating old potatoes and magically grown pork? How many weeks until someone murders someone? How many weeks until anarchy breaks out?"
"We couldn't leave them outside," I said. "They're people, the same as us."
"Well, if you wanted to take them inside the walls, you might as well take them inside the castle. Now, they're just hovering in this middle ground where neither they nor you are happy."
"I can't decide everything myself," I said. "That's what Voldemort does."
"And that is why he is winning," she said. "The Death Eaters have a strong figure to rally behind, someone who leads them into battle. Someone who the giants and the vampires and the werewolves look at and think: this is someone powerful enough to bring us power. The Order is fragile, made up of people who would rather run a daycare than a castle under siege."
"I can't just make all the decisions," I said. "They won't allow it."
"You're right," Helena said. "But that doesn't change the fact that you've created a time-bomb by bringing the refugees inside the walls. For now, they may be safe and satisfied that they won't be attacked by Death Eaters in their sleep, but winter is coming, and what will they do when they are forced to sleep in tents? What will they do when they know that half the castle is empty, but they are forced to be outside?"
"They've got magic, they'll be warm," I said, but a fear was starting to creep inside. Had we made the wrong decision?
"But they won't be as warm as you," she said. "They'll always look up the hill, towards the castle, towards you, and every time they see you with your fires and healthy food, resentment will grow. You've let them inside, but you've literally put a fence between you and them. They will see everything you do and everything you have, and they will see that they, themselves, are being given the short end of the stick."
"There could be spies among them," I said. "We can't give them the same privilege as the Order members, or the students who already lived in the castle."
"There are spies among them," Helena said. "And every day, those spies will gain more friends in that camp, because you and your Order couldn't decide, you choose neither, the middle, and in the end, you will suffer because of it." Helena smiled and looked down at the camp, with the thousand glowing torches. "When Voldemort breaches the walls, which side do you think they will end up siding with?"
I swallowed. "What can we do?" I said. "Is it truly too late?"
Helena smiled. "No. When I look down there, I see a body of potential. Potential to overthrow your Order, potential to resist Voldemort's impending attack." She smiled at me. "But I also see potential for you. Those people could be your people, as long as you do the right thing. That group down there, that could be your army. An army that will make sure that no more stupid decisions are made."