*Be advised, this chapter has a fair amount of coarse language
—
XI
Fabulam illam
—
December 3, 1996
Hermione was tucked up in the Gryffindor common room, a book on advanced transfiguration spread open on her lap. It wasn't required reading, but she'd finished all of that ages ago, so she'd picked up some more challenging texts to keep her occupied. However, her mind kept wandering to a separate puzzle, one with white-blond hair, a permanent smirk that had as of late been replaced with a sort of grimace, and a haughty voice that she actually hadn't heard in quite some time, though they had numerous classes together.
Closing her book, she sighed, staring into the flames of the fireplace as she contemplated Malfoy. There was a nagging in the back of her mind that told her she should ignore it, but it just wasn't in her nature.
Harry and Ron tumbled into the common room, both of them looking more than a little disgruntled. The girl studied the two of them as they flopped down on one of the couches beside hers. She sighed.
"What happened now?"
Ron, who had been distant since the summer, glared in her direction. Harry slouched further into the couch as he replied.
"Ron and I were coming back from a chess tournament with Ravenclaw, -which, we lost, by the way- and we thought we saw Malfoy slipping off to do Merlin-knows what. Whatever he's up to can't be good, since he waited for the castle to be empty to get started. Anyways, we tried to tail him for a bit, but then we lost the slippery git and Snape found us."
Glancing at the clock, she saw that it was well past curfew. Not even Ron's Prefect status would have saved them. She cringed.
"How many points did he dock?"
"Ten from each of us," The dark-haired boy groaned.
"'Course he wouldn't bloody listen when we told him Malfoy was out, too," Ron added snappishly. While she was sympathetic to the loss of points, Hermione couldn't help her curiosity.
"What did Malfoy look like? Did he seem ill?" She questioned. Harry's expression morphed from sullen to confused, while the ginger beside him gave her a scoff.
"The bloody hell do you care? Gonna sneak off and find him for a quick shag?"
The other two Gryffindors eyes widened, and their mouths dropped.
"Ron…" Harry breathed, aghast.
"What? How else are you supposed to explain the way she's been staring at him lately? She's practically been drooling after him."
Hermione felt a hot fury pulse through her. "You absolute prick! I have not been drooling after him, I've been concerned about the wellbeing of another classmate, something you might try if you could find any sort of compassion within you!"
Ron stood, looking dangerous in a way she hadn't seen before, which prompted her to rise to her feet as well. Harry jumped in between the two and tried to forestall the firestorm he knew was coming.
"Guys, let's just go to bed. Clearly we're all tired, and-"
The ginger shoved Harry aside and got in the girl's face. "You shouldn't have compassion for that bastard! He's nothing but a fucking Death Eater!"
"He is a human being! He's a sixteen year old boy who is clearly being forced into something that is driving him mad and making him sick! How can you be so callous as to not pity him?!"
"You know, you're not doing anything but convincing me. Listen to how you're defending him! How the hell did you get him between your legs, being a mudblood and all?"
Hermione had her wand out faster than anything Harry had ever seen, Ron drawing his when he saw the ten and three-quarter inches of vinewood pointed at him. At that same moment, Ginny appeared on the steps of the girls dormitory, her face lighting in shock when she saw her brother and friend with their wands at each other's throats. Harry looked to the youngest Weasley with panic in his features.
"McGonagall," He choked out, and the redhead nodded, speeding out of the common room as the arguing pair began circling each other like lions.
Harry disarmed the two with a quick series of Expelliarmus', but the screaming continued, each of them throwing increasingly outrageous insults and accusations at the other. Hermione began tossing wandless spells, a skill Ron had no hope of attempting, so he turned to grabbing whatever he could get his hands around and throwing it towards the irate witch. The common room soon looked like a war zone.
Whether it was seconds or hours later, Harry couldn't tell, but eventually Professor McGonagall burst into the tower.
"Miss Granger and Mister Weasley, you will cease your hostility this instant!" The professor boomed, her voice magically amplified and shaking the walls. Everyone in the room winced and covered their ears.
Within moments, all of house Gryffindor was in the common room, as McGonagall's magic-enhanced exclamation had broken the silencing charms around the sleeping quarters, and everyone wanted a glimpse of the drama unfolding. The professor took in the state of the tower, and the daggers two of her students were glaring at each other. She set her jaw.
"Granger, Potter, and Weasley, you three will come with me. The rest of you will get back to bed and will not speak of this outside this room. If I hear so much as a whisper at the breakfast table, I will not hesitate to issue detentions."
Heeding the seriousness in their head of house's tone, the rest of the Gryffindor students slowly made their way back to their rooms, already muttering to each other. When they had all gone, Minerva fixed the remaining trio with a dark look, then swept from the tower and began heading towards her office. The three students sulked after her.
When McGonagall had locked her office door, she began shouting at a volume the trio had never imagined the usually level-headed professor could.
"What, in the name of all that is sacred in this world, was that obscene display?! Such behaviour is entirely unacceptable from any Hogwarts student, I don't care what justification you pose! And to think, the three of you were once inseparable! 100 points from Gryffindor!"
Harry swallowed when she turned her gaze to him.
"What happened?! I want your retelling, Mister Potter, without omission or bias!"
Hermione folded her arms over her chest and raised her chin, as the boy recounted what she and Ron had said to each other. McGonagall looked increasingly disappointed the more she heard.
When Harry had finished speaking, the Professor stared between the two subjects of discussion, her expression set in disbelief.
"I am absolutely disgusted with the both of you! Mister Weasley, for your heinous words, and Miss Granger, for your dangerous retaliation! You might have very seriously wounded each other this evening, and been left with that regret for the remainder of your lives!" She took a breath and appeared to calm herself, her tone softer but no less stern when she resumed addressing her students.
"Now, I can see there is no longer any love lost between the two of you, so I will not be naive and force you to apologize to one another. However, I expect you to be civil towards one another in class, and should you be paired up for projects, you will cooperate without animosity. Do you understand?"
Hermione replied with a curt "Yes, professor," while Ron mumbled something that sounded like "Sure whatever." The elder witch gave him a hard look, but then pulled three sheets of parchment from her desk drawer, signing each of them and handing them to the teenagers.
"These will keep you from losing more points if you are found in the hallways. Potter and Weasley, you may go. I would like to speak with Miss Granger privately."
The boys stood, with Harry giving Hermione a half-smile before following his friend out of the office. McGonagall sighed and looked at Hermione curiously after they'd disappeared.
"You're concerned about Mister Malfoy? While I admire your altruism, I must say, it's a surprise, given your history with the boy. May I ask what about him has you worried?"
Hermione furrowed her brows. "Well… He constantly looks like he's about to collapse. And he seems not to care about anything at all, not school, not his friends, not even quidditch." She glanced down at her hands resting in her lap. "Ron and Harry suspect he's taken the Dark Mark. But even if he has…"
Her gaze returned to her teacher, studying the weathered lines of the woman's face and feeling her own youth. "He's just a boy."
Professor McGonagall ducked her head seriously. "That he is, Miss Granger. I will speak with Professor Snape, perhaps he can offer Mister Malfoy some sort of assistance. But Hermione," she began, her voice lowering to a sympathetic tone. "His father was sentenced to a lifetime in Azkaban. I doubt there's much we can do to improve his disposition."
The young witch nodded, then bid a good night to her head of house and made her way from the office.
Hermione walked slowly through the castle. Her head was swimming with everything that had transpired, and she was almost entirely lost in her thoughts, but a sound from a side corridor made her pause. She walked back a few steps and peeked down the hall.
It was Malfoy, but he looked miserable. He was sitting in the well of one of the large windows, his head on his knees and his chest heaving in quick gasps like he couldn't breathe. And the sounds he was making…
Something in her chest twisted when she realized he was crying. Curse her bloody overabundance of empathy, she wanted to walk up to him and comfort him, let him know that he wasn't alone. Shaking her head, she threw one last pitying glance at the boy before continuing on towards Gryffindor Tower. Malfoy had caused her enough problems for one night.
—
—
July 4, 1997
Dumbledore's funeral had been taxing. As Hermione stared out at the Hogwarts grounds, she let the warm summer breeze push some light into her heart. Merlin knew she needed it.
She thought over Harry's recount of the headmaster's death, as he'd been hidden under his invisibility cloak and seen the entire exchange.
Evidently, Draco truly had taken the Dark Mark, and had been tasked with murdering the headmaster. But he didn't go through with it. According to Harry, Malfoy didn't even get a spell in before Snape had appeared, and after a few tense moments, the Potions Master had fired the Killing Curse. More Death Eaters had appeared moments after that, though it was a wonder as to how they had gotten into the school.
The girl sighed. Her best friend had told her about the Horcrux he and Dumbledore had retrieved, and that it was a fake. He had also explained that there were others, and that all would have to be destroyed before they could even consider touching Voldemort himself. It gave her a headache to think about.
As she was contemplating, Harry appeared on the steps of the Astronomy Tower with Ron in tow. The raven-haired boy greeted her with a hug, pulling her close, while his companion gave her a curt nod. She and Ron had moved forward into a more civil relationship since their fight in December, but she still occasionally heard his words from that night echo through her mind, and she doubted they would ever be what one could call "friends" again.
Harry released her after several seconds of holding her tightly, then leaned against the guardrail of the tower, staring at the Scottish landscape with a sigh. Hermione placed a hand over his.
"He believed in you, Harry. He believed you could win this." She glanced back at Ron. "And we'll be with you every step of the way."
The boy gave her a long, considering look, then put his other hand over hers, giving it a squeeze. "Thanks, Hermione."
The trio mused in silence for a while, then Hermione announced she was going to go get ready to leave. When she'd gone, Ron furrowed his brows.
"You didn't tell her?"
Harry shook his head. "It's bad enough you found out; I'm not dragging her all over England on a stupid scavenger hunt, too."
"She might be a help, mate. You know how smart she is."
"All the more reason she should stay with The Order. She can help them strategize, draw plans and the like. What's she gonna do with us?"
The ginger shrugged and joined his friend at the guardrail, the two of them looking over the grounds of Hogwarts, unknowingly for the last time.
—
—
August 1, 1997
The wedding had been lovely; then the Death Eaters showed up.
Hermione frantically searched for Harry amidst the cloaked figures and screaming partygoers. She'd had everything ready for weeks, should they need to make a quick getaway and start searching for Horcruxes. It seemed now was the time to leave.
She finally caught sight of him, and could have rolled her eyes if she hadn't been so urgent; the boy was kissing his girlfriend, who immediately began sobbing when they separated. He handed Ginny a small envelope, then his eyes locked with Hermione's for a moment before he sprinted… away from her? Her own gaze widened when it clicked.
"Don't you dare!" She screamed above the din. "Harry Potter, don't you-!"
Ron had grasped the boy's arm, and the two of them were gone the next instant. Hermione felt her heart drop into her stomach at the realization that they'd left her behind, but she had no time to digest the fact, as she was jostled by a tall, dark-robed individual and held to the ground when she fell.
Unable to Disapparate with whoever was on top of her, she worked her wand arm out from under her and cast a Flipendo over her shoulder, effectively blasting away the Death Eater. She then magicked herself away, landing in the heart of muggle London and immediately blending into the flow of muggles just in case she'd managed to be tailed.
After several minutes of weaving through groups and between buildings, Hermione ducked into a decent-looking hotel and, after a bit of magical persuasion, checked into a room.
Feeling relatively safe for a moment, the girl set her bag down -the bag stuffed full of necessities for living on the run- and allowed herself a moment to process what had happened.
Hermione cursed as she felt tears well in her eyes, but didn't try to fight them. Harry leaving her stung. Deeply. She was certain he thought he was being so very noble and protecting his best friend, but then, why had he taken Ron along?
Swallowing past the tightness in her throat, she started the shower, deciding not to let her emotions get the better of her, and to clear her head before she did something rash.
—
—
October 31, 1997
Hermione stared up at the moonless sky, her forehead creased. The day had had an aura of foreboding about it from the moment she woke up, and the fact that there was a New Moon didn't improve her apprehension.
She'd been bouncing around from place to place for months, hiding in empty homes that were for sale or hotels, using magic to go undiscovered for a few weeks before she'd move on to the next place. Though she had only been in the house she was currently staying in for a week, the misgivings in her gut told her it was time to leave.
She gathered up what little she had, then returned the home to its pristine state before she Disapparated, leaving up the protective charms to wear off on their own.
Landing in the middle of the Forest of Dean, Hermione sighed, a little of the twisting in her gut seeming to ease as she glanced up at the stars. Several of them flickered as if they were happy with her choice. Shaking her head at the notion, the girl began setting up a campsite, deciding that it was time to truly go into hiding. Reciting a blessing for Harry and Ron and the rest of The Order members, she put up several wards and unpacked her tent.
She didn't notice one of the stars blink red thrice in the sky above her, and even if she had, she hadn't been paying attention when Professor Trelawney discussed omens of the end.
—
—
November 1, 1997
She didn't believe the radio. She couldn't. That would mean almost everyone she loved had been murdered, and she couldn't take that.
Hermione listened to the names the broadcaster listed, her heart faltering with each one. If it were true, the Death Eaters had gotten to very nearly the entire Order. And not just official members, but several of its allies.
Feeling the room spin as the commentator continued speaking, she dashed out of her tent and vomited into the nearby river, her stomach heaving painfully. When she could retch no more, she stumbled blindly back into her tent and collapsed onto her cot, inhuman sobs tearing from her throat.
So many friends. Family. People who had helped her navigate the world of magic for years, and now they were all gone.
When she came out of her grief-induced stupor hours later, she numbly tapped the radio and muttered "Percival," the next password for Lee Jordan's Potterwatch broadcast. His name hadn't been on the list of known fatalities. She was met with static, but she let the station continue, praying to hear something.
The static droned on.
—
—
November 4, 1997
It was three days later when she heard a voice crackle to life on the radio, making her gasp and kneel beside the little machine, desperate to hear someone familiar. Hermione let out a noise that was half-laugh and half-sob when she realized it was Lee, though his tone was much more somber than usual, and he only spoke to introduce someone new to the broadcast.
"I doubt we've got many friends listening now, but if any of you are out there, I want you to meet someone who has some encouraging words for us in this incredibly bleak time. He has insisted he not use an alias. Ladies and gentlemen, Zelanus Taylor."
Hermione vaguely remembered the name coming up at Grimmauld Place once, and both Remus and Arthur had sported hesitant looks at the mention. The girl listened warily to the silvery voice coming through the speaker.
"Witches and wizards, we enter into dark days. The road forward will be long and arduous. But we still breathe, do we not? While we can breathe, we ought to fight. The so-called Dark Lord is not deserving of the power he holds, and abuses it to the detriment of the non-magical society. We cannot stand for this. His false sovereignty must be wrested from him for the good of all. My friends, if you wish to aid us in the restoration of peace, there is a Seer stationed at Battersea Park. They will know your intentions and bring you to the new headquarters of The Order of the Phoenix. Have strength, and rest with the knowledge that we will avenge the ones we've lost."
Lee came back on to give the password for the next broadcast, and Hermione heard him choke back a sob as he muttered "Twins." More tears fell down her cheeks as well, but she stood determinedly and began packing up her things. When she'd removed all trace of having ever been there, she pulled out her wand and thought of Battersea Park as she Disapparated.
—
—
November 13, 1997
Luna stared at the headline of The Daily Prophet, feeling her heart sink even lower than it already had over the past weeks; She'd lost her father on Halloween, after he'd jammed a portkey into her hand whilst they'd been fighting off Death Eaters, and she'd felt his presence leave the earth moments after she'd landed. A very small part of her was glad for him, since he had been reunited with her mum, but mostly it had damaged her in a big way. And now, with the content of the morning news, she felt her last vestiges of hope drain from her and leave the world looking entirely grey.
She ghosted into the dining room, where Hermione and the other three strategists of the new Order were studying a map of something and arguing.
"Hermione, I need to speak with you. Urgently."
The girl in question looked up and gave her friend a tiny smile. Luna memorized the sight, knowing that she would never see it again.
Hermione followed the blonde through Castle Taylor, the Order's new headquarters. They passed several other newly inducted members, many of them having joined with questionable motives, but it wasn't like the Order could be choosy at the moment.
Luna led her up to the residential wing, stepping into one of the expansive bedrooms and throwing a silencing spell around the space. Then, she turned to Hermione, the newspaper still clutched to her chest.
"Hermione... Harry's dead."
The girl was as still as stone for a long moment, all colour draining out of her face. When she found her voice, it was a hoarse whisper.
"What did you just say?"
A tear slipped down the blonde witch's cheek, as she looked down at the paper in her hands. "The Daily Prophet seems to have been present for it."
Hermione held a shaking hand out, and Luna passed her the publication, unable to suppress the soft sobs coming from her chest as the girl read the headline.
FREE AT LAST!
Harry Potter Vanquished!
Magical Community Finally Able To Support Dark Lord Without Fear!
Below the caption was an image, but Hermione didn't dare look.
The girl collapsed to her knees, a chilling scream tearing from her lungs as what was left of her heart shattered like glass. Harry had been their last hope; without him, Voldemort had free reign. Their worst nightmares had all come to fruition.
Hermione wailed and sobbed, hardly feeling Luna crouch beside her and cry with her.
For a long time they just sat together on the floor, weeping for everyone and everything they'd lost, and when they could weep no more, they simply stared up at the ceiling in silence.
Luna fished something out of the pocket of her sweater, numbly handing it to Hermione.
"He gave this to me at the wedding. Said if things didn't go to plan, I was to pass it along to you."
It was a small envelope, like the one Hermione had seen Harry give to Ginny before he left. She swallowed and opened the letter.
Dear Hermione,
I suppose if you're reading this, then things didn't work out the way we'd hoped, and I'm so sorry. I know you're probably wondering why I took Ron with me and not you, and the truth is, I never intended to bring either of you along. That prat just happened to find my packing list, which, yeah, I probably should've hidden more carefully. He wouldn't leave my side after that. But I couldn't put both of you in danger, even if I knew how much you wanted to help, Hermione. I love you too much, and to be perfectly honest, I never had much faith in the whole thing.
Now that I'm gone, you have to survive. No one is truly invincible, and Voldemort will fall one day. So just keep surviving. I know you will. You're the most determined and brilliant person I've ever met, and I'm so glad to have called you friend these many years.
All my love,
Harry.
Hermione felt her throat tighten again, holding the letter to her chest as a few more tears leaked out the corners of her eyes. Then she set her jaw and got to her feet.
"Come on, Luna. We've got a war to fight."
The blonde girl continued to lay on the floor for a moment, her eyes glassy. Then she blinked a few times and sat up. Without a word, she followed her friend back down to the dining room, where several folks were bustling about and speaking in soft but not entirely hushed tones. Luna sighed when she caught the shock of red hair at the table.
Ron sat with his head in his hands, refusing to acknowledge the questions being thrown at him. A bolt of fiery orange light flashed past his shoulder and blasted a hole in the wall behind him, effectively garenering his attention and the attention of the entire room.
Hermione's wand was raised and pointed at the boy, like it had been nearly a year ago in the Gryffindor common room, and her eyes burned with a similar fury. Her voice was a dangerous whisper.
"Why are you here?"
The boy hung his head and muttered something unintelligible, but Hermione was having none of it. She rounded the table and grabbed him by his shirt collar, dragging him out of his chair and throwing him against the wall, not caring about the mutliple spectators. His red-rimmed eyes wouldn't meet hers, as she clarified her question.
"Why aren't you dead, too?" she hissed. Ron squinted, beads of water rolling down his cheeks as he quietly sobbed, and Hermione felt a rage like she'd never felt flood her veins when it dawned on her.
"You. Fucking. Left him."
The boy gave a pathetic nod as he brokenly explained himself. "I couldn't take it anymore! We'd been hunting for weeks and hadn't found anything, and then Halloween…"
He sobbed some more, but Hermione couldn't find any pity beneath her wrath.
"You think you were the only one hurting?! You left him when he needed your sorry arse the most, you fucking idiot!" She shouted, smacking him in the chest. He slumped to the ground, mumbling apologies as he hid his face behind his palms. The girl shook her head and turned her back on him, her gaze landing on Zelanus, who was staring at her suspiciously. She raised her chin.
"You're the head of this rebellion. I suggest you start drawing up battle plans, unless you want to go the way of your predecessors."
The man gave her a sly smile. "That we will do, Miss Granger."
Luna couldn't help the chill that ran down her spine at his voice, and though she doubted it was felt by anyone else, she sensed the cold tendrils of darkness snake their way from him, and knew that the war had already been lost.
—
—
December 18, 1997
Hermione watched Luna sling her bag over her shoulder with a serene expression on her face. She was heading out to speak with an old Romany tribe about perhaps allying with the New Order; no one really believed it would work, but the girl had insisted on trying anyways. The two of them stood in silence for a moment, then Hermione embraced her friend.
"Come back safe, Luna," she said, but the blonde witch shook her head when she pulled back, holding the other girls hand.
"I won't be returning, Hermione. Don't ask me why, just know that I won't be, and that you can't come with me. But I do suggest you leave as well. Taylor is manipulative and feels threatened by you, and he won't hesitate to rid himself of you as soon as he can. You have to survive, Hermione."
She reached behind her neck and fiddled with something for a moment, and when she brought her hands back, a lovely pendant on a black ribbon was resting in her palm.
"It's a Talisman of the Angels. It lets you commune with whoever wore it before you, no matter where they are, so long as it has power. This one is getting to the last of its energy I'm afraid, but there's enough life in it for several more minutes."
She dropped the necklace into her friend's outstretched hand, and the girl felt it almost quiver as it touched her. Hermione then fastened it around her own neck, but when she looked down, she was surprised to find she could no longer see it. Luna gave a small grin.
"There's also a rather powerful enchantment on it that conceals it once it's being worn. I'm quite proud of that one. Farewell, my friend, and may the stars ever smile upon you."
Hermione watched Luna's golden curls bounce down the long walkway on the castle's front lawn, then disappear beyond the gates. She headed back inside before the liquid on her cheeks could freeze there.
—
Zelanus Taylor watched the bizarre girl vanish outside his home's gates, then turned to his young comrade, who was waiting for orders.
"Follow her. Let her meet with the Romany's, if that's truly what she's up to. Then… I suppose you know what to do."
"Yes, sir," the lad said with a nod. He then Disapparated, and Zelanus went back to staring out the window, now contemplating the Muggle-Born witch just a few floors below him.
—
—
December 19, 1997
Hermione glared at the bold font splashed across The Daily Prophet. Surprisingly, her eyes were dry. She supposed she'd simply run out of tears.
LAMENTING LIEUTENANT LESTRANGE
Chaos In Romany Encampment Leads To Loss Of Dark Lord's Most Loyal Follower
According to the paper, Bellatrix and several other Death Eaters had been summoned to a Romany tribe's camp for recruitment purposes, but had found the encampment being held hostage by rogue members of The Order of the Phoenix. Whilst attempting to "free" the tribe, an Order ally had supposedly set off an explosive that had killed several of the Romanys, the remaining Order members, and a few Death Eaters, one of which was Bellatrix.
"We have confirmed, however, that the mastermind behind this attack, one Luna Lovegood, was exterminated. We hope her death brings peace of mind to the families whose loved ones she stole," read the end of the page. Disgusted, Hermione tossed the publishing into the fireplace, then set off through the castle to find Zelanus. Luna's warning had echoed through her mind all day and into the night, and when she had first read the news that morning, she had a suspicion as to what had really happened.
The current leader of The Order of the Phoenix was preparing tea in the grand sitting room, as he always did at precisely two-thirty in the afternoon. Hermione had a standing offer to join him whenever she wished, though she hadn't yet taken him up on it. That was about to change, however.
She knocked on the sitting room door, and was met with a curious expression that morphed into a sad grin.
"Miss Granger, do come in," Zelanus said, ushering her into the room. "I'm truly sorry for your loss. Miss Lovegood brought such a unique perspective to our New Order, and she will be greatly missed. May I prepare you some tea?"
Hermione nodded, hardly waiting until his back was turned before hitting him with a silent Petrificus Totalus. He'd almost had his wand up before the curse took effect, the Pine rod flying from his hand as his arms snapped to his sides and his ankles locked together. The girl snatched the wand from the floor and tossed it into the nearby fireplace, sharp pops sounding as it was consumed by the flames. She smirked bitterly at the paralyzed man.
"You're a mediocre wizard at best, and an absolute fool when you think you've got the upper hand," she spit, then locked the sitting room door and put a silencing ward around the space. She had gone numb several weeks ago when Harry had died; now, with Luna gone and Ron -whom she had a hard time caring about in the first place- out seeking death, she didn't have very much to lose. What should a couple of Unforgivables mean to her?
Whispering "Imperio," she removed the Body-Bind curse, and Zelanus looked at her as though he had not a care in the world.
"Tell me what you did to Luna Lovegood," Hermione ordered. The man gave her a peaceful smile.
"I ordered Jacob to follow her once she left my home. She met up with the Romany tribe but she didn't try to convince them to join The New Order, she performed some ritual with them, then was going to disappear. Jacob enacted the Taboo on the Dark Lord's name, and of course the Death Eaters came running. He was the one who ignited that wonderfully destructive device we acquired. I must say, Miss Granger, for as stupid and primitive as you muggles are, you are quite adept at violence."
Hatred sparked within her, creating a horribly black void in her chest that swallowed any remorse for what she was about to do.
She released him from her Imperius Curse, only to quickly follow it with the Cruciatus. Screams filled the air around her as she poured every ounce of her loathing into the magic, watching as Zelanus spasmed on the ground beneath her. She stepped a few paces out of his reach before halting the spell.
"Do you have anything else you'd like to disclose? Perhaps which poison you slipped into the teacup you always had waiting for me?"
Hermione carefully picked up the cup and threw another Imperius at the man, forcing him to drink down every last drop. She watched his face shift into one of terror when she released him again. He fumbled with his pocket, likely hunting for an antidote, but the witch above him hit him with another Cruciatus. The glass vial he'd found was flung against the wall and shattered. She smirked, ceasing her torture when she knew he had no hope.
Zelanus gasped for air as tiny blue lines began to snake their way up his neck. Amazingly, as he stared up at her, he found the audacity to smile.
"You'll burn for this, Mudblood. The New Order will see to it," he rasped. When he coughed, Hermione's smirk fell, the sound a cross between a gag and hack that was utterly horrible to listen to. A blackish substance gurgled up from his throat as the blue rivers found their way to his eyes, and seconds later he was still, his sclerae now a deep cerulean that made his brown eyes seem unnaturally vivid.
Swallowing, the witch muttered a quick Reducto, dispersing Zalenus' corpse to ashes. Hermione then released the silencing ward and unlocked the door, summoning her beaded bag. The purple satchel flew into her hand after a few moments, and she fished her winter coat out of it, making her way towards the front of the castle.
Just as she neared the main door, Jacob McKetter rounded one of the hallway corners and greeted her with a nod. She nodded, passed him, then spun and whispered the killing curse. She didn't even stop to see his body hit the floor before she hurried on, the giant entryway swinging open and allowing her to exit.
Hermione quickened her pace across the snow-dusted lawn, barely halfway across the yard when she heard shouts behind her. She broke into a sprint, shouted the password to open the gates, and barreled through the only just wide enough opening they'd made. The girl broke past the wards and wasted no time Disapparating.
She landed on the shores of a lake her mother and father had once taken her to for summer holiday. Falling to her knees, she allowed herself only a moment to pause and let her heart rate lower, then rose again and took a deep breath.
She had no family. No more friends. The Order of the Phoenix was gone, replaced by a perverted version called The New Order. Both sides of the war now had a price on her head.
Alone. She was completely, utterly alone.
Harry's words, though. Luna's words.
You have to survive. Just keep surviving.
They played through her head like a broken record, over and over, again and again.
Survive, survive, survive.
Hermione stared out at the frozen lake. She would be hunted. It would not be easy. But there was something more to be done, she could feel it. She was not ready to die.
She would survive.