Letters Sealed in Blood

by Watta29

"In a time of War, the only thing surviving the wreckage are written words smeared with blood."

6. Chapter 5 - At Death's Door

At Death's Door

"In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends."

Hermione threw the dried dittany leaves and finely crushed rose petals into the already boiling cauldron, stirring with her silver wand in a clockwise direction, carefully counting her movements.

The soft glow of the moonlight spilt over the aged pages of the well-worn potion book she had out next to the brewing potion, even though she had committed the recipe to memory a long time ago. The infirmary was quiet around her, not a person in sight other than Hannah Abbot nestled in a distant corner, sleeping off a sprained ankle she got after a training accident earlier in the day she was completely alone.

For Hermione, these quiet nights held a special allure. She could just catch up on her paperwork regarding stock, and charint information, and brew the potions they used up throughout the day or throughout the week prior.

The flickering candlelight cast dancing shadows across the shelves behind her stacked with potion ingredients and medical supplies as Hermione, nestled in her well-worn chair, leaned over the bubbling cauldron and gently dropped the fairy wings in, stirring it again and then placing the iron rod to the side.

The blood-replenishing potion was coming together quickly she thought, and Hermione let herself smile for a second. In the steam emitted by the potion, the errand hairs that escaped from her braid stuck to her forehead, and she was stiff and still recovering from being hit by bloody Malfoy, but she loved the simplicity of a potion going to plan. She rolled her shoulders her joints on fire, her muscles tense, and with any wrong move, her temper flared remembering.

Remembering that Malfoy left her in the freezing snow, petrified, while a fire raged around her and the only reason she was still standing is that Lavender somehow found her, and apparated them away before the flames got to Hermione. He just left her there to die. This is the second mission in a row she failed and it ate at her, just like the fact that she met Malfoy again, and she almost died again. Still, even as she ached, she wondered why didn't he just kill her. It would have taken him the same amount of time to whisper into her ear, and he would have been a celebrated Death Eater hero. Instead, he left her, yes in the snow, yes petrified, and yes a fire around her, but he let her live and that was disturbing. Even as she got back from the mission, and heard lectures from Moody and Kingsley, who felt about Hermione going on missions as one feels about going to the dentist, and told her she has too high of a clearance to go and risk herself and honestly, she would have prefered not going to the bloody factory. Still, she couldn't stay back. It had taken her a whole meeting to convince Kingsley that she heard scouts talking about an attack on one of their supply facilities and to make it seem like she figured out that that was the most likely to be hit because it was the biggest. Kingsley was not buying it until Moody by some miracle backed her up, authorized the mission and let Hermione drag a dozer order members with herself.

Of course, by the time the Death Eaters arrived, most of the supplies were apparated out to their new supply facility that had been set up in a different corner of England and only the order members remained waiting, ready. When the first ones arrived Hermione believed everything went according to plan, only never recruits arrived with their shaky wands and awful directions but then Malfoy jumped at her and literally swooped her off her feet, right into the freezing snow. She wouldn't call the whole thing a failure because they saved their food, but the Death Eaters they captured knew nothing, and she didn't dare tell anyone she saw Malfoy or that Malfoy saw and recognized her. There was a reason Harry and Ron didn't go on public missions, and even if they did it had to be a big battle or they had to be heavily disillusioned. The three of them were targets, and the order couldn't accept losing either one of them.

Not like they could survive losing the others either, and Hermione's eyes teared as she thought about Seamus and the fact that he died on that mission. Shaking her head to dispel the haunting thoughts, she redirected her gaze to the cauldron bubbling before her. She couldn't think about him right now, she couldn't afford to sink into that black abyss in her soul.

She tugs the little vital Silverweed Extract out of the side of the shelf and popping the glass top off carefully pours it into the cauldron, stirring the thick substance until every trace vanishes and the potion shifts from black to a deep red hue. With a swift flick of her wand, she extinguishes the fire beneath it and grabs the warm handles of the cauldron. Lifting it with a grunt and dragging it over to the cooling station on the other side of the room. Taking careful steps, she keeps a close eye on the sloshing liquid in her hands and practically waddles over to the racks where her other potions are already cooling. Leaning down carefully, she begins to insert the cau-

"HELP!"

"Fuck!" Hermione jumps, the handles slipping in her hand and thick liquid threatening to spill onto her. She grabs onto it harder, and barrels into the cooling rack, setting the cauldron down way too harshly.

"Help! Fuck, somebody help!"

Hermione quickly checks if the cauldron is properly slotted, and grabbing her wand from the desk sprints out of her office to the main space of the infirmary. She rounds the corner and comes eye to eye with Geroge holding Angelica Johnson who has blood literary pouring out of her side and pooling beneath the pair.

"What the fuck happened?!" Hermione shrieks, rushing over, and waving her wand "Wingardium Leviosa" she lifts Angelica quickly, placing her onto one of the nearest cots.

"Our safe house has been compromised" George pants, his eyes frantic

"What?!" Hermione cast a quick diagnostic, noting the elevated heart pressure and heart rate.

"We were at a temporary house for a mission tomorrow" George babbles as Hermione casts a cutting charm exposing the would and cringes at the sight and at Angelica's scream. Angelica got got by a nasty curse, blackening the skin of the cut, and making the blood soo thing in spills out like water from a flask.

"And we were woken up to death eaters pooping in and shooting killing curses left and right" Gergoe paces, looking at his bloodied hand like they are not his own. Even from there, Hermione could see he was injured too, his limp was prominent, and the wince in his every step told Hermione more than she wanted.

Her hands are on the would, trying to keep the water-thin blood in by sheer force, watching as it dribbles from within her finger right onto the floor.

"Does this mean "With her free hand Hermione summons a blood-replenishing potion, and a blood clothing one " Others are coming?" she cuts a look back at George while she forces the potions down Angelica's mouth and quickly discards them.

"Yes," George looks at her alarmed, and then his eyes cut to Angelica "Shit can you heal her?" He starts pacing again.

"Yes," Hermione breathes, examining the wound once more. "Vulnera Sanentur" She breathes, willing the wound to close. Angelica screams as the tissue attempts to fuse, but the blackened part refuses to hold and tears apart again, and again. Hermione wills more magic into her wand, slowing the blood flow enough for her to ease the pressure on the wound. "How many?" She summons some Dittany dropping a few on the wound, mixed with some Murlap essence.

"What?" George turns towards her.

"I asked" Hermione straigtens, waving her wand with another diagnostic charm "How many people will be here in minutes, looking for a healer?"

"Well," George gulps "We had 15 people on the mission all stationed there"

"Fuck" Hermione mutters under her breath her eyes darting around. She was wholly alone, and she needed backup. She quickly conjured a patronus whispering into her wand "Level 3 infirmary code, please report for duty immediately" The three otters dart away, and taking a deep breath Hermione tries to whip the blood off her hands just as more shouts echo from the hallway.

"HELP!"

George whipped his head towards the sound while Hermione just stood there, looking at the door.

"This is going to get ugly" she whispered her shoulders falling. She quickly placed some cloth on Angelica's world, put her two braids into a bun low on her next and marched forward, gripping her wand so tightly her fingers whitened under the red coat of blood.

"Come on, get him to the bed" she ordered Parvati, who was holding Cho from the side, keeping her from falling down. Her eyes darted over the aurore she saw a few times, limp in behind them and leaned onto the wall. She quickly waved her wand placing a green mark over his head, and ran over to Cho who looked as white as the wall, and her arm dangled to the side, barely attached to her body. She was sobbing uncontrollably and when she moved even a little her face scrunched up in paint and she cried out.

"What the hell happened?" She snapped at Parvati, quickly charming vitals, and doing a diagnostic to see the extent of the damage. "Ferula" she whispered quickly stabilizing the whole hand so she can figure out the fuck is happening at the moment, while Cho screamed which echoed in Hermione's ear.

"We were almost out of the house and got surrounded, and she got hit, and I just apparated an-

"Parvati" Hermione snapped, while looking over the nerve endings Cho, hoping to see them at least somewhat alive "What did she get hit with?" she quickly summoned a pain relief potion, putting it in Cho's mouth and making her swallow it.

"I have no idea" Parvati cried, looking at Hermione desperately

"Wonderful" she muttered, casting a 'Duro' on the world to get any debris out of it. Even though she didn't know what Cho got hit with, the wound looked suspiciously like splinting from an apparition, and Hermione hoped that was all because healing would be a hell of a lot easier than solving a mystery curse. Cho, he was missing a good chunk of muscle and nerves, and shit she was still bleeding.

"Hermione, Angelica is getting worse!" George shouted from behind Hermione, just as she finally got the brace in place on Cho's hand.

"Help!" someone else shouted from the other side, followed by a mutter "I am fine you idiot"

Hermione shook her head, performing a Vulnera Sanentur spell and summoning bandages soaked in Murlap essence. With a swift wave of her wand, she secured Cho's arm, and as she hurried away, with a spell aimed back even remembered to gently knock Cho unconscious, allowing her to rest for a while.

Angelica is bearly conscious when Hermione arrives. Crying out in pain as George holds pressure on the would like Hermione did a second ago while blood is oozing through his fingers at an alarming rate. At the same time, an Auror pair stumbled in the door, and Hermione saw from the corner of her eye one of them was hit by a nasty acid curse still eating away at him. Someone must have cast the countercharm, but she needed to get there ASAP because the curse was still active and the damage would be permanent.

"Where the hell are the others?" she mutters as she looks at Angelica's diagnostics and cringes. The curse is still thinning her blood and her heart rate is too high and blood pressure too low, and her screaming makes Hermione's ear ring.

"Finite Incantatem" She forcefully says hoping the spell works, and it is not a too complex dark curse that has a specific countercurse. She doesn't have time to check really "Hold the pressure, no matter what" she orders George and she rushes over to the injured auror. He now sits on the bed, and his friend is next to him with a guarded expression. He is also wounded, Hermione can see blood dripping from somewhere but she doesn't have the time to try and find out.

"Spell?" Hermione asks as she already pulls up the vitals.

"Fucking Peredo, " the guy says next to Hermione, in a deep and angry tone "They fucking love to use that one"

"Lucky for you," Hermione said, a determined glint in her eyes. She muttered 'Episkey' under her breath and summoned Murlap and Dittany. "This is only surface level, thanks to the counter-curse cast on it in the field." She cast an eye on the Auror standing next to the cot.

"So im alive thanks for this fucker?" The guy under Hermione rasps, looking over at the auror on their rights.

With swift precision, Hermione applied the potion-soaked bandages, carefully securing them onto his face and shoulders, while buttering the counter curse in small quantities to not overwhelm his body.

"Exactly" she mutters finishing the bandages and without looking back sprints over towards Angelica. George is still holding pressure but now the blood is less thin, and she quickly summons another blood-thickening potion and takes his hand off the would. When she left it was almost closed, and the blackness was receding but now it was open again and the black spread even more.

"Fuck" Hermione whispers her head whirling about the curses she knew about, and their effects. She casts another generic counter curse, and a Vulnera Sanentur hoping it somehow helps. The wound attempts to close but again it just tears apart. She summons some dittany, and basically pours it onto the wound willing it to just fucking close. She already forces down the blood-thickening potion on Angelica's throat when she finally passes out.

"Why isn't she getting better?" George asks, staring at his bloody hands.

"She is" Hermione touches the wound, feeling the skin around "Going to heal" The skin feels like normal skin, but when she pinches it does crumble. She cast a magical diagnostic, and as it touched the wound her charms disappeared.

"It fucking feeds on magic" she mutters

"What?" George asks

"The wound is-

"I am here!" Neville shouts clumsily running into the infirmary.

"Thank fucking god" Hermione mumbles "GET ME A SUTURE KIT NOW!" she screams, her hand closing the wound together.

"A what?" George steps closer but at Hermione's dark looks steps away.

"Suture kit" Nevile puts the little tray in front of Hermione already folding it out, for her "A muggle way to close wounds, which doesn't require any magical ability"

"Hold the wound" Hermione orders and Neville does without any protest. Hermione, when in school never would have thought to see Neville, the clumsy little kid who lost his toad the first day in his first year, to arrive in an infirmary in the middle of a war and make her more relaxed. Everybody changed over the years, but he with his extensive botanic knowledge, and empathy became one of Hermione's favourite coworkers.

"you are going to" George's eyes round at the needle in Hemrione's hand" Fucking sew her back together?"

"Do you want her to live?" Hermione questions as she punctures the skin "If yes, this is the only way."

She was rusty with a needle, she didn't use it regularly and all she learned was from her father who was a dental surgeon and taught her when as a little girl she tore her dress and they needed to fix it. Pushing the memory back she concentrated on the blackened skin, trying to keep her hands on the slippery surface, and not cringe at the sound of the thread ripping through the skin. As she closes the last stitch off she notices the bleeding lessen, and Neville takes his hands away, Súscurgifying his hands quickly.

"She should be fine" Hermione whispers, trying to wipe the sweat from her forehead, when she feels the sticky blood on her hands. She almost completely forgot. Her whole hand was read, cracking in some places, and she honestly was grateful there were no mirrors in the infirmary.

"Where do you need me?" Neville asks, pulling his sleeves up, and looking over the infirmary. Hermione, already in motion, responds by attending to Lavender, who enters with a grievous burn stretching across half her body.

With Lavender draped over her shoulder, Hermione glances at Neville, her voice carrying above the subdued ambience, "Well," she shouts back, navigating the path with precision, "Kind of everywhere."

A wry mumble from Neville accompanies his swift approach, "So, like usual." Together, they ease Lavender onto a cot, mindful of the searing injuries on her left side.

"Yes," Hermione shrugs, quickly putting a cooling charm over Lavender,

"Stabilize, cool, come back later?" Neville asks, already charming the clothes out of the wound and putting a blanket over Lavender's exposed body.

"I missed you" Hermione smiled, already moving on. People had been trickling in, and if they weren't screaming too loud, Hermione let them just sit, one of them would get there initially.

Neville hasn't been on duty for a while, being busy with searching for Luna. the bond between Luna and Neville ran deep, and Hermione felt a profound sense of loss when both her trusted healers vanished in the aftermath of the mall incident. Luna's skills were good, and even now, looking over multiple beds she could see the purple under Nevill's eyes, and she could confess to herself that she even missed the soothing voice of Lune talking to patients.

"What happened?" She breathed, looking over the next cot. A girl she didn't know lay there, wounds all over her body, but nothing looking too critical. Hermione quickly cast charms, noting her vitals looking grave and she cast a confused glance at her.

"I think my insides became liquid" the girth breathed, gritting her teeth. She was pretty, with blond hair, and thin face, and white skin that now looked ashes, and even though her lips were chapped, her hair a mess, and her eyes red Hermione could still see how she would have looked without the war affecting her.

"They fuckin love" Hermione cuts her shits off, exposing her raising belly, full of purple bruises. "inventing new curses, and" She summons a pain relief portion, handing it to the girl "making my job fucking harder"

"They are getting" the girl rasps, drinking the potion "desperate"

Hermione takes a deep breath her brain racing. Modified spells are a beast to stop and counterspell if the exact spell is unknown, and as she pushed into the girl's stomach feeling the liquid in their splash she knew that it had to be an Auguamenti modification, which and the simple counterspell with some tweaking should work… hopefully. Hemrione cast another diagnostic noticing the spell still working eating away her insides, working toward the girl's heart.

"Absorbeo insiata" she whispers tracing her wand over her and stopping, making her magic pull the liquid back together, and at least stop the spread of the curse.

"This fucking hurts" the girl hisses

"I am so sorry" Hermione whispers, gripping her wand harder. She could feel the magic working but the girl's stomach didn't recede, and her violets didn't show any improvement "Do you remember the spell you got hit with?" Hermione asks casting the spell a second time. If she could just top it, and maybe regrow her organs she could live.

"No" the girls start crying "I-It was loud, and this hurts so fucking much"

Hermione cast a cleansing charm, hoping it at least slows the curse down.

"I don't want to die" The girl sobbed her heart rate going through the roof "Please, please I do not want to die"

"You won't die" Hermione hisses as she tries another variation of the Augmentin counter spell, followed by a tissue clothing one, hoping her organs find their places back. Just as the spell leaves Hermione's mouth the girl starts to thrash and scream.

"NO, NO, PLEASE STOP!" she trashed and Hermione tried to hold her down, watching as her vitals went all over the place "HELPS, PEASE STOP"

Hermione held the girls down, gritting her teeth, and as Neville arrived, taking over, she conjured ropes to keep her in place and not injure them or herself. Hermione knew her insides were getting worse, and she guessed the curse was eating away her nervous system making the pain unbearable.

"Next step?" Neville asks, his wand working on his own diagnostic.

Hemrione's hands were cloaked with sweat, her ears ringing from the sobs and screams, and the girl in front of her just looked to be in so much pain she could barely take it.

"I have no idea" She summons a pain relief potion, knowing she shouldn't be handing them out to everyone " She has been hit with some kind of Liquifing charm modification, and I have no-"

"PLEASE, STOP" the girls sobbed, as Hermione forced the potion down her throat "Please, I don't-"

"And I tried" she continued" to cast countercharms but none of it is working-"

"I don't want to die, please, just, hel-"

"and she is losing so much-"

"Please"

The vitals go red, a shriek fills the infirmary, and Hermione watches as the light disappears from the girl's eyes, and her body goes limp inside the binds.

"No" she whispers her hands shaking

"Hermione," Neville says carefully as he vanishes the glaring red numbers.

"No-éno, she can't be, I just have to"

"She is gone," Neville says, and closes the girl's eyes, which were still glued to Hermione, looking at her accusatory "You did everything you could" He conjured a blanket, hiding the girl's body under.

"I-I-"

"Do you need to go?" Neville asks, his eyes full of sympathy and Hermione jolts. She can't go, she cannot leave Neville alone, and this is her infirmary.

She shakes her head, and pushes the girl back in her mind, placing her into a bookshelf on the back of her mental library, in a dark corner she never visits as she stalks over to the next cot, her game face already on. She just hopes they can't see her hands shake.

By the time the last cut was treated Hermione's bones ached, her head spun, her occlumency walls were close to shattering and her to-do list was longer than ever. She fell into a chair in the corner, breathing out all the air from her lungs, and closing her eyes letting her head fall back to the wall.

"Water?" A voice asks from her side and she sighs.

"Thank you Neville" she takes the water from his hands "How does feel to be back?" she forces a smile at him, as he sits next to her and she drowns the water, letting it wash over her dried throat.

"You know" He takes the water back "I kind of missed it"

"And I am a masochist" Hermione chuckles "How is the search going?" she asks quietly, looking over the glowing lights of the vitals of the now sleeping patients. They are okay, they are alive.

"Shitty" his shoulder's shag " We know nothing. We have been looking all over the place, I have pulled in favours from scouts to listen around more and even they heard nothing"

"Really nothing?" Hermione glances over at him.

"Our last information is her being transformed to one of the Death Eater's custody as a slave. Since that, nobody even heard of her, nor seen her."

"Fuck" Hermione breaths "So she is either dead, which is pretty unlikely because then they would parade it out, or she is held prisoner by a sociopath, having things done to her nobody wants to imagine"

"Pretty much"

"Then let's hope she is dead" She stands, and with wobbly legs walks over to her station.

"You should rest" Neville scolds, not moving from his chair.

"I can't" she shrugs" I need to brew potions to replenish our stock, harvest materials, and reoraganize the supplies and I still haven't done the research I needed to do."

"When was the last time you slept?" Neville stood, walking over to Hermione, and staring at her.

"I dozed off before my shift"

"Your 48-hour shift?" Neville asks seriously "That has ended " He looks behind her head, reading the grandfather clock there "3 hours ago?"

"Maybe" Hermione mumbles, tearing herself out of his line of sight.

"Rest" Neville walks over to the ingredient cabinet pulls out a handful of vials and walks over to the empty cauldrons 'I will start your potions, and when you wake, you will be less of a danger in blowing us up"

"Says who" Hermione chuckles but the fight is lost in her "Thank you" she whispers, as she walks out of the infirmary, her head held low.

The Head Quarters were quiet like they were after a big battle. She dragged her legs, not caring about the looks she received while climbing up the stairs. Her mind was narrowed to the path to the closest washroom to her room, and she could feel the blood crunching under her nails, in her hair, the sweat making her clothes stick to her skin. She wanted to crawl into a hot shower so badly she felt she could cry, and as she finally reached the door, she practically fell in, locking it behind her.

She slowly straightened, carefully walking over to the mirror and looking into it.

"Well, I looked better' she muttered, reaching back to take her frazzled braid out.

HDried blood and sweat clung to her face, her eyes glassy. The state of her hair, never a source of pride, now horrified her even more. Tangled in a messy braid, it bore streaks of blood and mud and it had knots so big Hermione wasn't sure she would be able to comb it out, even with the help of magic. Her hands were stained red and shook as she manually tried to detangle those knots and let out her hair so she could at least try and wash the grime out of it.

Her jeans and t-shirt were almost unsavable, as she peeled the t-shirt that stuck to her, she barely saw the original baby blue fabric now the whole thing was tainted with red. Even her skin under it was bloody, and Hermione didn't want to know how she smelled. She practically had to rip her pants off herself, and as she stepped into the shower, she let her shoulders fall. Turning on, the ice-cold water hit her in the face, and she stepped closer, willing it to heat up. Shi tilted her head up and savoured the water gliding down her body, washing everything down the drain with it. She carefully picked the soap up and started scrubbing her hands As the soap coated it the red didn't receive, and she scrubbed harder.

The blood clung to her like a second skin, and she could only see Agnelica's ashes face, the blood oozing from her side.

She scrubbed frantically.

Angelica's face changed, her hair turned blond, and now her hand was full of the girl's blood, coating her whole body.

She needed to get the blood off.

"Fuck" she whispered as the blood clung to her skin, not wanting to part from her. She didn't even know whose blood it was really, but as she let the water fall between her fingers she could only hear the screams

"Come off" She scrubbed harder "Fuck" the threw the soap at the wall, watching it shatter into pieces and fall into the tub.

"Fuck, fuck fuck fuck" She scrunched down, sitting down and drawing her knees to her chest. The water was hitting her back hard, and now was scolding hot but she didn't care.

"Fuck" she breathed one more time before her occlumency walls crumbled and the blonde girl's screams whose name she didn't even know surrounded her completely.

She let out a sob, trying to silence herself with her hands, but it wasn't working. Her eyes burned, she could barely breathe and the bathroom echoed around her. Her chest was constricting not letting enough air in, and she just wanted- wanted to breathe, to have a breath without the fucking burden of the war. She felt like she was going to pass out or puke but couldn't stop the tears. They just came and came and she was just sitting there all alone, and broken. So broken.

Her back screamed, her throat was closing in, and her cries mixed with the girls. She needed to stop, get herself fucking together.

She knew she had seen just as many more people die than Harry or Ron, and knew they would never understand. On the battlefield they fight, they protect themselves and their mates, and even if someone falls because of your cruise you just leave them, you don't get to see the aftermath. You are doing everything in self-defence, and you don't feel it, even if you do, you rationalise it, and tell yourself it is okay.

In the infirmary, she had to go head to head-with death. She fought and did everything in her power to cheat it, and when it didn't work, she just had to accept it. She has to sit there and watch as someone screams in pain because she doesn't have enough pain relief potions to give to everybody. She has to be there at their bed to either save them or to just put them out of their misery.

Hermione has to be there when they drag their final breath and leave this word forever. Hermione is the one who has to levitate their lifeless body to the makeshift morgue, for their friend to say goodbye and wait for someone to burn their body.

Hermione knew death, and sitting there, with scolding hot water hitting her back like a whip, surrounded by the blood of her comrades she could feel it linger around her, calling her.

She wiped at her eyes, willing the tears to just disappear, the ache deep in her chest to stop hurting so fucking much. Because if it ached any further, she knew she would break forever and she wasn't sure she would be able to climb out of the tub.

She looks down at her forearms and cringes. The 'mudblood' scrad looks back at her red, and ugly-looking bearly a week old. She wondered, trying to think through the sobs. She has treated many, with questionable wounds that she wasn't sure they inflicted on themselves, and she could never muster the ego to judge them. Now, looking at her forearms, the ugly scar she got on the worst night of her life, she wondered.

She wondered how it would look like to mix her own blood with the others, how would it feel to watch it pour down the drawing with her soul in it. How would it look to carve the 'mudblood' out of there, to just cut the flesh away? Tentatively she reached for the scar tracing her fingers over the letters. It was still red and irritated, and before Hermione could rethink it, she sunk her nails into it and with a quick motion broke the skin. She hissed, but the tears lessened just as the blood welled in the world. She does it again.

Again.

Again.

Again.

Again.

Again, until her arms were on fire, the water cold around her, and her head swam with blood loss.

But she was not crying anymore.

And that, in her book was a win.

Stretching the gauze tightly, Hermione cut the excess off with the help of her wand and neatly tucked the end in, finishing the dressing. With a flick of her wand, she discarded the bloodied bandage she just peeled off the fresh wound, and incinerated it quickly. At the movement, the wound pulled taunt, and Hermione winced, the pain shooting up through her forearm.

Around her the infirmary was quiet, she relieved Nevile from his post a few hours ago after trying and failing miserably to get some sleep. She did somehow get a few hours of sleep, she knew because when she came down, the sun was already up, but she didn't nearly get enough to feel rested, or alive. The wet tips from her hair tickled her back, as she carefully put her supplies away, and cast careful glances at the remaining tenants of the infirmary. The 'Skin Regrow' potion was bubbling beside her, emitting a musty scent that filled her little office to the brim. The remaining cauldrons containing the necessary potions for restocking were stored in the back room. She felt the itch in her to check on them, even though she came back from there a few minutes ago.

She carefully pulled her wide long sleeve over her bandage, and stood, twisting her hair around her wand and situating it at the top of her head, and out of her face. She stood, already nervous about the state she would find her potions in. Potion-making was never her favourite. Yes, she was good at it, and she needed a great deal of knowledge about it to be a decent mediwitch but her heat lever lay in it, not like Neville's lay with plants, Ron's with strategy and chess, or even Harry's in fighting. She knew Harry hated the war, but she also saw him in the training ring, duelling Ron or other Aurors and the glint in his eyes. Hermione's eyes stopped shining a long time ago, and she felt them dull even more and she opened the thick door of the cellar.

The heat slapped her in the face, the air around her with various smells. She cringed, as she pushed past it, and walked into the heart of the infirmary. In healing, especially in magical healing, potions served as its backbone, and as she looked over the empty shelves, the missing ingredients and her heart sank. If the restrictions continue they wouldn't be able to brew the necessary potions, and then the whole order would crumble before the six months ran out. She huffs, looking over one of the cauldrons emitting a cloud of green smoke, and a sweet tangy smell. She carefully stirs it with the wooden rod, and satisfied, moves on to the next one. They need these potions, after a raid, or a mission, their Blood Replenishing potion stock always takes an awful hit, along with the dittany and murtlap, and each week it is harder and harder to replace the missing items. Magic is wonderful, but she cannot heal everybody with a wand, and even if she could have her magical reserves would run out permanently, or she thought.

The second cauldron had a deep red hue and was just slightly simmering as Hermione bent close sniffing it. Sour with the right ting of mint. She smiled to herself, Neville wasn't nearly as bad at potions as he or even Snape thought back in the day. The thought of Snape sent a chill through her, and there surrounded by the musty scents of bubbling potion she fell back at hogwards, attending a Potions class with her best friends. She dearly missed those days.

The third cauldron had thick black liquid inside which bubbled violently. Hermione quickly took out her wand, hair tumbling down her back and began accessing the potion. Everything should be right, the temperature signals are correct, and it should be on the burner for at least another hour before cooling it down. Still, she looks at it closer and dares it to blow up on her. It doesn't, but instead, a bubble loudly pops scaring Hermione out of her guts. As she looks into the cauldron again, it is back to its supposed deep green colour, and she shakes herself off.

That was weird.

"Are you okay?"

Hermione screams. Again. She wasn't proud of herself, but at least she had her wand out, her hair flinging everywhere with the movement of the turn. She could barely see through the hair in front of her eyes but she could clearly see the figure in the doorway and she was not letting her wand down.

"Hermione?" The figure steps closer in, and the light reflex on his red hair, and his blue eyes shine at her. She lets out a breath and puts her hair back with the help of her wand.

"Ron" she smiles, because she is actually happy to see him, instead of a Death Eater who broke into headquarters "You scared the shit out of me"

"You deserved it" He smiles, leaning against the doorway.

Since his storming out of the meeting room a few weeks back things have calmed down. They kept their distance, then at once Ron decided it was okay to talk to her again, and Hermione didn't comment on it. It was like this always, and by now she was used to it. Used to being iced out, and then in the next moment acting like nothing happened.

Her life was about acting like nothing happened those days anyway.

"What can I do for you?" She asked looking into the fourth cauldron. It was shimmering right, but she added a pinch more of wormwood, and it was like the potion let out a sigh of relief. Or maybe that was Ron?

"I just heard you scream, and wanted to see if you were okay"

"I am fine Ron" she rolls her eyes "And I can protect myself fine" She hoped Ron would look past her screaming a few seconds ago.

"Sure" he chuckles "Anyways, we wanted to ask you something too"

"We?" Hermione looks up sceptically as she steps toward the final cauldron.

"We" Harry pushes by Ron moving toward the first cauldron and looking into it "Foul stuff this is"

"If I remember correctly Harry, you took Advanced potions making in Hogwarts" Hermione smiles, noting that the last cauldron is brewing according to plan. So they won't blow up, wonderful.

"Well" Harry adjusted his glasses" I didn't do that for fun"

"I still can't believe you did it" Ron shook his head, his red hair flying around in longer waves than Hermione ever seen him wear.

"Well, I was young and needed the money" Harry shrugged and looked at Hermione. She has a chuckle on her lips as soon as she looks into his serious green eyes.

"What?" She breathes, already regretting putting her wand into her hair and not into the holster on her arm.

"We know" Ron says and Hermione's world tilts a little.

They know what?

They know that the Order is running out of funds and they are all going to die?

They know what Hermione did last night to herself, are her bandages showing, wasnt she careful enough? Was she too loud?

Do they know about her letters? Shit those letters, she hasn't even told Kingsley about them..fuck.. fuck…

"We know what happened last night" Harry steps closer.

Fuck.

She tucks her arm behind her, somehow hoping that if they don't see, they won't know, they will forget. They cannot know. What would they think about her, the brightest witch of their age, hurting herself on purpose?

"We know about the girl you lost last night" Ron adds in a grave tone.

"Im sorry what?" Hermioen's head wipes toward him, trying to hide the relief from her face.

"News got out, and we just wanted to check if you were okay" Harry steps closer putting a hand on Hermione's shoulder.

Oh, she was so not okay, but she would never show them that.

"I am okay" she forces a smile "I am a healer, Harry, it comes with the job"

"But the war does not" Ron comes next to them, his hand lingering at the edge of Hermione's aura.

She wasn't used to not touching Ron, wasn't used to his hesitant touches. But the war changed more than the world around them, it changed them to the core. She and Ron had something, or at least she thought they had something while attending Hogwarts. On some nights she still believes if things changed, maybe if they had won the Battle of Hogwarts she would have gotten together with him. Even could have had a happy life, loving him. On lonely nights she still somehow finds herself missing his touch, and wonders if she just misses the thought of someone or specifically him. She did give her virginity to him, and they even tried going out but the war made it impossible. After a few months, they just broke it off, and now she did not recognize the person she became, and the person Ron is. She still saw rebrands of the people they once were, but they were buried under darkness so deep, she wasn't sure if she was just imagining it.

"I am okay" She smiles, grabbing Ron's sweaty palms "Seriously guys" She shakes her head, letting a few curls fall out of her bun "I saw worse than this, you guys saw worse than this"

"Okay," Harry said with a tone suggesting he did not believe her, but he didn't need to. Hermione never asked him about the nightmares either, or she never accused him when the dreamless sleep potions disappeared from stock suddenly.

"It is going to be over soon" Ron gripped her palm tighter and she had to fight the urge to cringe.

He was right it is going to be over soon, but not because of them winning. She was surprised they didn't notice their ration becoming smaller and smaller by the day, but she was happy for their ignorance.

"I hope so" She says not looking into his eyes, and tearing her hand out of his "Don't you guys have jobs anyways?" she asks in a fake light tone as she steps out of Harry's touch.

"Yes, but -"

"But?" She raises a single brow, looking at Harry.

"What? You are going to pull level?" Ron asks, with some venom in his voice. Hermione shutters, and she has to bite her tongue. They are dancing on a very delicate edge and she cannot fall down. They just became okay again.

"No I would never pull rank on you guys, don't be ridiculous"

"But" Harry steps in front of Ron "It is not so urgent, and if the others can take smoke breaks, we can take a walk too"

"And I wonder how things get done with you guys" Hermione forces a smile, lessening the hold on her bandaged hand.

"You haven't changed a bit" Run huffs a breath out between a sigh and a chuckle " Even back in school you did everything over, and beyond."

Hermione stiffens and tries to hide it with a smile. She has changed way too much since her school years, this war gutted her out and left her to bleed.

"So does that mean " she looks challengingly at Ron "you want to help me do research?"

"Merlin, no" he raises his hands up

"What are you researching about anyways?" Harry opens the door for her, letting her cross back into the calm of the infirmary.

"The usual" Hermione shrugs, rounding around her table "Voldemort, his history, famous magical artefacts, the whole speel."

"Still?" Ron follows her out "Didn't you read every book twice by now?"

"Almost" Hermione placed a hand protectively over her desk and scarred parchments on it " but I think I am missing something. Something that has to be in here somewhere"

"Harry?" Ron turns towards him as he closes the door "Can't you just voodoo the answers out of his head"

"I hadn't had a connection to Voldemort since the Battle Ron. You know this"

"Worth a try" Ron shrugs

"And I am sure he is not just sitting in his chamber, pondering about his existence"

"You never know tho" Ron points, proud of himself.

"What are you looking into exactly?" Harry asks sitting into the chair in front of Hermione. He looks serious, and the childlike mischief is almost gone from his eyes.

"Well" She sighed, digging through the parchment and paper on her deck, and pulled out multiple dusty toms "I tried looking into his birth, to confirm what we learned from Dumbledore, magical artefacts that he could have had access to, and I even tried to understand how did he make Nagini a Horcrux, but that is merely advance runes and magic theory with no claim to support it." She suits defeatedly into her leather chair.

"But we know everything about You-Know_Who's birth" Ron leans onto the side of the desk " His mother fell in love with a muggle, gave him Atrophemertha, and had him as a result. The bloke stopped receiving the potion, realised what happened and bolted"

"Yes but..I don't know" Hermione buries her face in her hands "I feel like I am missing something. Maybe not about his birth, or conception" she bristles "but I know there is something"

"And the magical artefacts?" Harry asks leaning back in the chair. She can even see from there that he is deep in his thoughts. She pulled a parchment out of the mess, handing it to him.

"I made a list of sorts. I started with the founders, and we already know that he used one from Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and of course Salazar Slytherin. So I looked into whether he put his predecessors' hate behind him and used one of Godric Gryffindors' things as an extra Horcrux or something." She finished out 'Hogwarts a History', and opened it at the illustration of Godric Gryffindor "Sadly, the items I could find were the sword, which we used to destroy other horcruxes so I discarded that option pretty fast" She folded the pager revealing an other illustration "In texts it is implied that the Sorting Hat was originally in his possession before becoming what we now know."

"It can't be the blimey hat" Ron mutters

"I agree" Hermione sighs "It is not strong of an artefact, and it was the hat that gave Harry the sword second year, so it is out."

"And the others?" Harry looks back up from the list, handing it over to Ron

"Well other options are his family crest, and the portrait in Hogwarts but they were barely mentioned, and I honestly don't think Voldemort would use something like a portrait as a Horcrux"

"So we have nothing" Ron sighs placing the parchment on the desk

"Are you even sure he made an 8th Horcrux?" Harry asks

"No" Hermione's shoulders sag "I am practically grasping at nothing. It could very well be the case that he survived the battle out of pure luck, and destroying the last Horcrux didn't mean him losing his corporate form just making him mortal. I don't exactly have text describing the effect of shattering one's soul into seven pieces"

"And what does the leadership think?"

"She is leadership" Ron mutters but Hermione ignores it

"Well, I can't tell you guys explicitly, but I am still researching right?"

"We will win this war" Harry stands, walking over to Ron "We just have to hold out a little longer, and it will all come together. I can feel it"

Hermione had to stop herself from laughing out loud. The war seemed endless, and she didn't feel like it was all going to be okay. It felt like nothing was okay. But they needed this, they needed this pretend bubble, telling her that it was going to be okay so they could try and survive. Some people fucked every moving being, some drank some smoked, some cried, Harry pretended everything was going to be fine, and even though everything in Hermione protested, she nodded.

"We are going to get our asses scorched if we don't get back soon" Ron stans too, casting a pitiful glance at Hermione's desk "Good look Mione"

"Thanks" she breaths and watched them leave the room, her shoulders lighter but her head heavier. She starts organizing her desk, putting the parchment to one side, the toms in the other, separating potion ingredients from research materials, and organizing them by date and relevance, so they will be in easy reach. She is about to organize her inkpots, because yes she has multiple, when the discrint scraping of talons hit her ear. She shoots up and rushes over to the tiny window in her office, barely big enough for an owl to get through. Her heart races and her stomach knots, as she opens the glass, and locks eyes with the familiar nondescript brown owl. She carefully takes the note from him, her hands shaking so hard the parchment almost slips from her fingers. She quickly takes a glance around, noting the closed door, and upon not hearing footsteps she opens the letter. She knows she shouldn't be..what? Excited about it?

Whatever.

The letter slowly unfolds, revealing her own response she wrote a few weeks ago, and under it, the answer scribbled, in neat and hurried handwriting.

Why? Hackney house searches, tonight

Hermione actually drops the parchments and sprints out of the room. Her wand in the air, otters scurried left and right relaying her message to everybody. She barely turned a corner when the swish of the fireplace hit her ears, and she stepped into the dining room Witches and Wizards were already arriving looking around with wide eyes. Hermione started to regret calling in every level 8 or higher wizard into a meeting so suddenly, but she hoped they would understand, that Kingsley would understand.

By the time she fought her way to her designated stop around the table, the meeting room around her was in full chaos. Daedalus Diggle was walking around in circles, Dean was pulling on his now long hair periodically, while Ginny tried to calm him. On the other side of the table, Moody sat, with his glass eye whirling everywhere his other fixed on Hermione accusatory. Older Aurors just sat in silence, as the papers flew in front of them, landing at the head of the table where Kingsley would sit when he arrived. Fred winked at Hermione as he arrived while discussing with his father about something in hushed tones.

She looked over the room again and was thankful that she did not call this meeting as an emergency. She knew it was not an emergency in the order's eyes and she knew the consequences she would face if she had ordered everybody there. She was ever more grateful that Mrs Weasley couldn't attend because she wasn't sure she would have the nerve to do this in front of her.

"What is happening here?!" Kingley's booming voice filled the room and everybody sat and quieted down except Hermione. Kinsley's sharp eye snapped onto her, and his mouth twitched into a sour expression "Miss. Granger, what can we do for you?" Ha asked slowly walking over to the head of the table, and sitting down not taking his eyes off her. Hermione felt like she was fourteen again, being asked about complex potion ingredients she had no way of studying beforehand, and she could feel the sweat soaking through the parchment crunched in her hand.

"The Hackney district will be subjected to house searches tonight "She forces out, and she can hear the soft gasps around the table as she tries to not look at anyone in particular "and we need to get everybody out who doesn't have proper papers."

"The Hackney district has been torched to ashes at the start of the war, nobody is there any more" Kingsley answers dismissively, already moving to stand up.

"We all know survivors have been living there for a while because the district hasn't seen any conflict in..in.."

"Eight months and nine days" Ron answers and Hermione bites her smile down.

"Okay," Kingsley leans back in his chair, and a chill passes through Hermione at the attention "How did you gain the knowledge that the Hackney district will be hit... "He looks around mockingly " tonight you said?"

"Yes, tonight" she chewed on her lip her eyes darting to Ginny's and Fred's curious expression.

"And you know this, how?" He leaned forward, balancing his elbows on the table. Hermione took a deep breath, focusing, knowing she had to play this correctly.

"I have been corresponding with a source in Voldemort's army, an-"

The soft murmur of the room disappeared from around her and Hermione could hear her own breaths echoing in her ears.

"You what?" Harry asks, his eyes just as round as his glasses.

"This source has given us solid information before, " Hermione tries to explain, looking at Thomas "and I am inclined to trust their letter" She clutched the letter tightly, scared that she would tear through it. She needed to keep her back straight, she knew they would only believe her if they believed she was a hundred per cent sure of herself. Her eyes locked onto Kingsley again and she could see him calculating his next move.

"How do we know, it is not a trap?" Bill asked before Kingsley could open his mouth.

"Because the information I was given beforehand was solid." She looks at Bill, right into his blue eyes that were so similar yes so different from Ron's, silently pleading for him to believe her.

"Which was?" Kingsley asked, in a tone so calm Hermione actually gulped.

"I was alerted about the trap at the Westfield Stratford City Mall where the slave trade was rumoured to happen, but could not warn the member on the mission without seriously compromising them, and-" she takes a breath, considering her next words "This is the source from which I obtained information about the raid on our biggest supply holding facility"

From the side of her vision, she could see Kingsley go extremely rigid.

"But you said" Ron fumbles, his face red "that you hear information from one of the scouts, and you calculate-" Hermione looks at Ron, at his pressed mouth and furrowed brows and she can feel the shame creepe up at the back of her neck.

"I was given direct information" she interrupts him "that they were going to attract that specific warehouse, and I knew we- " Her eyes snap to Kingsley who slowly shakes his head "We would need a long time rebuilding our resources," she said instead of the sentence on her tongue. Because in reality they would have starved to death without those supplies, and Kingsley knew that too.

"And how do we know you haven't been Imperiused by your source, eh?" Moody asked, both of his eyes focused on Hermione.

"I haven't met them yet, and I wouldn't put the order in such jeopardy" Hermione bites, and as she sees the glint in Kingley's eyes she knows she shouldn't have.

"When are they conducting the searches exactly?" Kingsley questions.

"Tonight" she tucks the letter behind her back protectively.

"So you don't know an exact time?" his lips twist into a smirk

"No" Hermione whispers

"What are they looking for exactly?"

"I don't know"

"How many houses are they searching specifically?

"I don't know"

"How many of them are conducting the search? What is their clearance level in You-know-who's army?"

"I-I" Hermione fumbles for her words.

"So we know nothing" Kingsley's eyes never leave Hermione as he stands "I am so sorry you got dragged here for an unnecessary meeting. You can go back to your posts and-"

"No!" Hemione says, all heads snapping in her direction "I may not know the specific, but I know those houses are going to be hit, and I know people will die if we don't help them"

"An Order member will drop dead if we dash over there without a plan or a lick of information, you hear me?" Moody counters, hands gripping the table

"Innocents will die" Hermione slaps her hand to the table, looking over the people her eyes stopping to look into each of theirs "We are here to protect the ones unable to do so themselves, to save muggle-borns, and muggles from the fate of Voldemort"

"We're here to survive," Moody growls, "and your little letter might as well be a trap. I suggest you sever all ties with your source, and do it now."

Hermione's blood chilled. This was good information, no way she was cutting ties with her mysterious informant.

"We need to save them" she continues ignoring Moody's comment

"Hermione" Mr Weasly adds in a pleading note, and Hermione can't look at him

"Many of them don't even have a wand for fear of detection. They'll be slaughtered like pigs, and we can't stand idly by!" she practically screams

"We cannot let innocent people die" Harry mumbles under his breath, looking sypathicly at Hermione.

"Mr Potter, have you forgotten you are forbidden to attend public missions due to your notoriety?" KIingley asks slowly like one would ask a child.

"For fuck sake" Hermione pockets her letter and unsheathes her wand "If you won't help, I don't care "She steps away from the table "I will go and at least try and warn them, and give them a bloody chance"

"Granger" Kingsley stands hastily "Your clearance is way too high for a mission like this, a mission I might add that is not authorized in the least."

Hermione turned away from him, eyes digging into the door in front of her "I don't bloody care" and she walked out of the meeting room, with hurried steps.

As soon she crossed through the doorway her words came crashing down and her hands started shaking. She, on a mission, fucking alone? Without a plan?

"I am the one that's supposed to be sane" she muttered walking at a speed her things hurt "I am supposed to be the brain of the operations, not the impulsive one, I am smart and calm, I am no-"

"Hermione!"

She whips around eyes round looking at Harry who is running after her.

"You can't stop me" she stumbles "They are inno-"

" I'm not stopping you" Harry stops in front of her with a smile on his lips Hermione hasn't seen in ages. A smile of mischief and trouble, the one he used whenever they snuck out of the dormitories, or when he took his invisibility cloak out.

"What?" Hermione croaks, her head swimming with the possibilities of all the things that could go wrong.

"I am helping you"

"You can't, you cannot go on missions Harry, especially a non permit-"

"Oh, I'm not going" he folded his hand in front of his chest, puffing with slight irritation.

"What?" Hermione's mouth drops open slightly

"I am not dumb, I am not going, but " he looked behind himself and smiled " they are"

To Hermione's awe, at the corner of the corridor, Ron, Thomas, Fred, Ginny, and Lavender appear, their eyes bright

"But" Helmione's voice catches in her throat. They can't come. Lav wasn't even in the meet-"

"I bumped into the other" she shrugs "and decided to come by"

"Look" Thomas steps forward "I don't care about any of your bureaucratic shits. If people are going to die, we need to help."

"You said we have until tonight" Ronsays, his face taunt. Hermione knew he was mad at her, but the fact that he was there filled her up with some hope

"We have hours until sundown "Harry pushed his glasses packed on his nose, eyes darting between Hermione and the others "And they won't attack before that, they need the element of surprise, and I would guess to amplify that they would do it when people least likely to expect it"

"After they went to bed" Hermione finished for him. That gives them approximately 4 hours to plan and evacuate anyone there. It is..doable. But only if they are right. Only if she is right.

"So, are you ready to plan a rescue mission?" Ginny asks, opening a door on her right. Hermione doesn't even realise she is standing in front of Harry and Ron's room, and Ginny walks into it so casually it it could be her own.

"I don't really have a choice" Hermione mumbles and for the first time in a while smiles. Because they came, they are here, ready to fight because of her, because they believe in her enough.

"Let's get these fuckers" Fred throws a hand over Ron's shoulder as they cram into the small room, determination lining their faces while dread curls in Hermione's stomach.

Hermione had been transported back in time, right back onto the dark hallways of the Ministry of Magic, where she ran away from Death Eaters while searching for the Hall of Prophecies with her DA friends. That night still haunted her, and that feeling of dread was curling around her as well. Their plan was shaky at best, and if they miscalculated the time, they would be run over by Death Eaters in no time. This was a gamble, and she didn't like her odds.

Hermione tightened her ponytail as she crept between two abandoned houses, one collapsed to the point of no return. The roof had fallen in, the walls barely standing and as Hermione glanced in one of the windows, she could only see rubble, and parts of the roof. She shakes her head, focusing on the other house, a small once cutesy blue house, that could have held a happy family, that Hermione could have seen herself move into one day. As she crept forward the snow crunching under her boots, the distinct creaks of floorboard hit Hermione's ears and she froze. She knew it could have been the cruel wind swissing around her, thudding on her ponytail, but under all that dread she could feel her gut telling her it was more than the wind.

They had already rounded up 5 families throughout the neighbourhood, only a few that were not living in actual ruins, 3 strays who were alone and barely let them talk before they had to bind them to explain they were not there to hurt them. Hermione's bones ached, and she felt the energy leaving her at every step.

They had cleared almost every house, and the little dots on Hermione's map were moving steadily between the labyrinth of the houses, as they slowly turned grey from purple, indicating that they had been searched and all survivors had been extracted. They charmed the parchment last minute, and although she wasn't a hundred per cent sure about its accuracy Fred assured her it would work, and the moving dots gave her some hope. It was a similar design to the marauder's map Harry used back in Hogwarts, but a much more simplistic design charmed onto the map of the district.

Hermione quickly tapped her wand onto the rectangle that symbolised the collapsed building next to her and tugged the parchment into her coat's pocket, securing it there. She rounded the corner of the blue house, noticing a small white door halfway open, practically daring her to go in. She gulped, looking around again to check the surroundings and when no Death Eaters jumped her nor did any running footsteps come toward her, she carefully stepped into the doorway. Hermione hands shook, as she calculated the best approach while she was painfully aware of the clock ticking, the sun already on its way down. It was a precarious thing, entering a house not as an attacker but as a saviour. She had to get in and search the house in a way, that if there were some Death Raters inside, they wouldn't get alarmed about her presence before Hermione could get the hell out, and if there were survivors inside she wouldn't spook them to death by sneaking up on them.

She quietly slips in, her eyes darting around the dusty room, marking the couch with pillows and blankets on it with the scorch of fire eating away most of the room and the sheen of snow in some areas where the roof was a gaping hole. Her breath fogged in front of her, as she slowly, oh so painfully slowly stepped deeper into the once vibrant living room. Her wand was ready to search in front of her, held in between her icy fingers. She regretted not bringing a glove right at the moment. She barely gets past the couch when she hears the sounds again, now from directly on top of her. She creeps forward, leaving a trail of snowy footprints, and leaving behind the torn curtains, the hallway that once was full of happy pictures, and the creaky staircase that Hermione got over without being detected with the help of silencing charms and luck. A silencing charm was permanently on her boot, and as she rounded the upstairs hallways she refreshed the Notice-Me-Not charm on herself, but if someone expected to see a person there, they would notice her within a second.

The upstairs state of disrepair was far more advanced than she saw downstairs. The frigid wind swept in through enormous holes in the wall that was once full of ornate flowery wallpaper, and the ceiling where Hermione could see the tiles of the room peeking through the holding beams. The snow was way thicker there, her booth almost sinking fully into it. Even now the small snowflakes trickled in, landing on Hermione's face and hair. She creped forward, following the howl of the wind and searching for the creak of the floor. She almost passed a small door, almost as big as Harry described his under the staircase at the Dursley house, when she heard..something?

It wasn't a thud, not a voice, but a small shuffle Hermione almost dedicated to her robes rustling in the wind. She hesitated and almost stepped forward, walking towards the end of the hallway, when a second later it repeated. She was sure there was someone or something at the other side of the door. She waged her options, if she opened the door she could be attacked and she would have to at least restrain the other person there. If she announced herself it would put her in a risk but.. she looked around again, noting the clean sheen of snow and the quiet of the house. If a Death Eater were there they would have already attacked her.

Right?

She blew out a huff of air, and gripped her wand harder, ready for an attack.

"I am with the Order of the Phoenix" she announced in a clear voice and a loud voice that even started herself after the quiet of the house. She hoped it was without any malice or anger, she needed whoever was there to trust her "I am here to evacuate any living being, as Death Eaters will search these perimeters shortly"

More shuffling inside, but no attacks hurling her way, so she counted that as a win. She moved her free hand toward the door handle but hesitated before making contact.

"I am going to open this door" she announces "I am not here to hurt you," She says as her hand closes around the icy handly and she pushes the door open and stepps back, hiding her wand behind her back. She would lose precise second shielding but they needed to see her safe, normal, an ally.

Two rounded eyes stared back at her, and Hermione could distinguish in the fading light two girls huddling close, one of them holding a broken wand toward Hermione, her grip shaky. They couldn't have been that much younger than Hermione, still, they looked so innocent, maybe barely sixteen. The one holding the wand shook her shook the snow off her short black hair that ended in waves, and her green eyes never let Hermione's with a look so piercing Hermione had to fight the urge to step back.

"Get away from us!" The girl shrieked, waving her wand around wildly, casting sparks in every direction.

"I am not here to hurt you," Hermione said slowly, looking into the girls' eyes "I am with the Or-"

"Yes, I heard what you said" The girl bites, tucking the other one closer behind her. Hermione could barely glimpse a head of blonde hair "That doesn't mean I believe you"

"I get it," Hermione says glancing at the hole right behind the girls, noting the last rays of sunshine disappearing. "But I am not here to hurt you" She puts her hands up, still holding onto her wand. She doesn't dare to cast a Lumos. She remembers what happened with Ron and his broken wand, and if the girl tries to attack her, she could hurt herself or her friend.

"I don't believe you" The girl bites like she talking to a little kid "Now leave us alone!"

"I need you to come with me" Hermione glanced at the sun again, but it was fully gone, and she could barely see the outline of the girls "I am a muggle-born, I am not a Death Eater, I am here to help you" Hermione tries to step closer

"GET AWAY!" The girl screams and Hermione quickly takes a step back from the sparks shooting around, illuminating the girls and melting the snow around them.

Hermione's head raced, she needed to convince them somehow, because as the clock ticked more and more into the darkness there was a bigger chance of death eaters arriving, even now she could feel her Galleon burning, signalling that the others were looking for her. She needs to appare them away, now.

"I am here to-"

"Expe-" The girl screams but Hermione is faster. Without even opening her mouth she shoots the wand out of her hand, landing it in her own palm. She pockets it and finally casts a Lumos, illuminating the hallway and the little room in front of her. Now she can clearly see the scared expression of the girls, the way they garb each other for dear life while the one with the black bob looks at her accusingly.

"GIVE ME MY WAND BACK" The girl screams, arms flailing.

"I am here to help" Hermione bites out forcefully, aiming her wand away from them,

"GET AWAY FROM US YOU SOCIOPATH!" She creams and Hermione had enough.

"Fine," Hermione bites out, her anger rising" You don't believe me?" She almost creams, she wishes she could "Here you fucking go" she mutters pulling her sleeve up, and ripping through the bandages she just wrapped around her forearm earlier. Her marks from last night were still there, red and raw and now from the ripped bandage bleeding again. Still, in the light of her wand, the "Mudblood" scar was still clear as day. She turned her forearm towards them and for good measure shined her light onto it just as the blood slowly started dripping from her fingers.

The girl's eyes rounded, and their socked gaze locked onto her wound.

Well, at least they are not screaming anymore.

"Believe me now?" Hermione asks harshly, and the girls just nod in unison "Fucking finally "Hermione tugged her sleeve down, hissing at the pull of the fabric at the fresh wounds. "So we need to get out the-"

A loud whine, echoed through the house silencing Hermione. A whine of the staircase Hermione climbed so carefully as to not make a sound. Someone was there.

Fuck.

She shoved her hand into her pocket and palmed the coin, hoping it was pulsing. It should have been pulsing, if it was pulsing it meant it was someone from Order, and it meant they still had time.

The coin was ice cold between her fingers

"Fuck" she mumbles out loud and whips her head at the girls. She needs to get them out somehow, or at least get them to someone while she takes care of the Death Eater.

Oh, sweet Merlin let it be only one.

She flicks her wand extinguishing her light, casting a notice me charm on the girls, and an alarm charm at the top of the staircase. She runs into the room, vanishing her footprints and closing the door carefully behind her. She cast an eye at the girls evaluating them. They were frail and shivering, their clothes so thin Hermione was not sure how they hadn't already lost a limb in this weather. She needed to figure out what to do. The wand in her pocket was broken and was no good for fighting, and if the girls had another one, she is sure they wouldn't be waving a fucking broken one around. Her gaze was scattered around hoping to find a way out, but the only thing there was the gaping hole which they would have fucking jumped out to at least stay alive. The girls weren't in any shape to jump, and falling from the second floor would do them no good. She could cast a cursing charm but if they miss… if they could just fly…fly. She could fly them out.

"Can you jump?" she whispers, and the girls just look at her slowly, then nodding silently.

"Good, I will" A noise comes from behind her and she stiffens, but her wand isn't shaking yet meaning they haven't reached the top of their case yet. Whoever's there is going to be here soon no matter what "I will levitate you guys down, but you will have to trust me."

The black-haired girl looked at her sceptically, but at the screak of the staircase she gave in "First Millie," She pushed the girl from behind her toward Hermione.

Hermione could barely see in the dark but she could distinguish a similar short hair and a heart-shaped face, with big scared eyes looking at her.

"Okay" she whispers turning directly towards Millie "I will need you to hold steady and flex your muscles, and don't panic. Okay?"

Millie looks at her, and slowly, bobs her head. Hermione san sees the shake in her form as she positions her at the chasm and mutters "Vingardium Leviosa" before she can change her mind. Gripping her wand tightly she slowly lifts the girl leaving her through the hole. The magic around her is fickle, and Hermione can feel her magic stretch, accommodating a full human body. She lets her down, trying to be fast enough until he can feel her magic get taunt and suddenly the weight disappears from her wand. She hurries and looks over to the side of the chasm, noting Milli standing on the ground, and-

"Holy fuck" she smiles.

Ginny is standing there, her hood up taking Millie by the hand and nodding at Hermione. Ginny may not like her these days but Hermione grew up with her, and she was damn happy to see her red locks.

"You next" she turns to the other girl who is visibly skating so much Hermione is surprised she can't hear her bone rattle.

"Okay" she breaths and stepped over to Hermione "By the way" she looked up at Hermione "My name is Christine"

"Hi Cristine" Hermione breaths "My name is Hermione"

Before the shock could register on Cristine's face, she was in the air, and Hermione was carefully lowering her into the alley.

The wand in her hand buzzes, and it almost slips from her grip. She can hear Christine's shout, and she knows she dropped a couple of meters.

"Fuck" Hermione breathes gripping her wand harder, concentrating. Christine had to be close to the bottom, Hermione tried to close out the sounds of footsteps behind her, and just imagine herself alone. Her magic is wobbling, and she can hear the huff of clothes in the air, and the footsteps are so loud they feel like they are right next to her, and her wand is just vibrating, barely staying in her grip and-

Boom

Hermione thinks she heard herself shout. Of cry. Or a combination of both.

The door was dangling off the hinges, as she stood her wand aimed at the Death Eater standing there and she prayed that Cristine wasn't too far from the ground when she dropped her and that Ginny got her. Ginny had to get her.

The Death Eater needed a second to notice her, and seizing that opportunity Hermione shot a curse at him and without thinking jumped out of the house. The icy wind roared in her ears, tousling her clothes and whipping her hair across her face. The ground was closing in on her quickly, and she barely managed to scream a cushioning charm before her body collided with the unforgiving pavement. Sparks erupted as a curse struck the ground perilously close, and she instinctively rolled to the side, feeling her elbow scrape against the asphalt. Another hit way too close at her left, and she scrambled to stand, her knees feeling jello. Casting a quick glance over her shoulder, her eyes locked on the Death Eater staring at her through the hole and she waved her wand ready to apparate, before he got his next attack in.

Fucking nothing happened.

The Death Eater cocked their head, seeming to taunt her.

She was fucking locked in. Of course, she was fucking locked in.

With adrenaline coursing through her veins, her knees burning her arm sticky with blood, she did the only thing she could do and ran. Curses whizzed past her in rapid succession, sparking at her ankles and bearly missing her. As she ran faster hearing voices, cursing and shouting and that made her sure. The Death Eaters arrived and they weren't happy about the Order being here. Oh, she hoped all of them got out before the wards came up. As she neared the next line of houses, her thighs protested, the agony intensifying with every step.

Abruptly, two Death Eaters emerged from the building right in front of her. Heart pounding, Hermione reacted on instinct, quickly jumping between two closely spaced buildings, hoping they didn't see her. Once concealed within the narrow alley, she moved cautiously along the wall, each step careful and deliberate. She needed to get out of the open. She cast a glance through the dark alley noting the only window in a few meters. She sprinted towards it, with her elbow breaking the glass, and clearing it as much as she could. The jagged edges of shattered glass scraped against her hands as she painstakingly ascended through the opening.

She really didn't plan to bleed that day and, as she looked back she realized she left a trail of blood leading right to her. She couldn't afford to stop and heal herself, she needed her magical reserves. She barely bucked down in time as she heard the two death eaters run by the window she just climbed through, her heart in her throat. Her lungs were on fire, her arm was fucking sticky with blood and burning with pain, and could bearly feel her fingers, her knees barely keeps her up and she had to get out of the neighbourhood. Now.

She sprinted through the house, barely dodging the discarded furniture littered all around the entry and the room she guessed once was the living room. She ignored all the baby pictures on the wall and all the scors marks of magic that were preeminent throughout the house. She ran through the kitchen knocking chairs over in her haste, as she saw the back door she really hoped would be there. Reaching the door, she burst into the open air, barely daring to look back.

The shouting was louder now outside and she wasn't so sure it was about the Death Eaters' being mad at their poor findings. She couldn't hear screaming that would tell her they were torturing someone but she could feel the distinct metallic taste of magic in the air, and her stomach dropped as she sprinted forwards.

Someone else had to be stuck there with her. She rounds a corner, and another, weaving through the labyrinth of houses, letting the shouts of the fight guide her closer. As she draws nearer, the snow beneath the dim lamplight is marred by the stark contrast of bloodstains and the lifeless forms of discarded Death Eaters. Running, she cannot tell if they are alive or dead, but she doesn't care enough to check. She knows whoever is there, whoever is fighting with the Death Eaters will be dead or worse if they get caught and she needs to get to them.

A curse narrowly misses her head, and she ducks into the closest alley her heart in her throat.

"You fucker!" Ginny's voice hits her ear and suddenly the bodies littered on the streets make sense. Ginny was a great fighter, even better than Harry and Ron together. She was a force to duel with, and even though Molly forbade her from joining the order at the start of the war, as soon as she was of age she was in the fighting ring shooting curses left and right.

"Get her!" She heard a male voice shout, and her head whipped around… but they were not talking about her.

Stepping back out, she creeps through the street, hoping to find a vantage point where she can join the fight without startling Ginny, and maybe even take out an opponent or two without the others noticing. She is not sure how many Ginny is dealing with, but as far as she knows she can take on up to 5 well-trained Order members, so if she is still alive there couldn't be more than five Death Eaters there. Hopefully.

Not like that makes Hermione feel any better, she could barely take on 3 opponents, and the fluke happening in the mall didn't count in her book. Those eight were pure luck, and she wasn't likely to get that lucky again. Reaching the corner, she cautiously peered around, hoping the flying curses wouldn't hit her straight in the face.

She froze as she saw Ginny, standing in the middle of a little square and shooting curses left and right, Lavender's injured body behind her partially hidden by the fountain in the middle. The frozen trees were barely standing around her, and the cobblestone street was only visible in place the magic melted the snow. Death Eaters were everywhere, and she could see the distinct red of Ron's and Fred's hair through the black of their billowing cloaks.

They were fucked.

There had to be about fifteen Death Eaters not five, all shooting curses at her friends and before Hermione could think a cruse hit Ginny's arm, and Hermione threw herself into the battle without another thought.

She desperately fired a cutting curse at a Death Eater's ankle, severing the Achilles tendon, before unleashing a Bombarda spell at a cluster of them trying to get the upper hand on Fred. Her movements between the bowling black robes before a barrage of curses came hurtling her way. The panic threatened to take over Hermione, but she pushed it away so far she could barely feel it under all the adrenalin.

She ducked, and with a panicked swiss of her wand sent the snow surrounding them soaring into the air creating a swirling curtain of snow. For a moment all she could see was blinding white, and all she could hear were shouts. Well, the Death Eaters definitely couldn't see her now.

She stepped forward and as the snow slowly started to settle down, the black forms of the Death Eaters reappearing again. Hermione fired off another curse while moving through the crowd, trying to step out of the oncoming spells that illuminated the square before her. Green and red lights danced in the air, casting an eerie glow on the snow-covered ground.

Somewhere inside she knew she should have called for backup, but somehow she couldn't get herself to reach for the coin in her pocket. Alternating between casting spells and defending herself, her forearms shook with the force of keeping her shield up. She could feel the ani apparition wards press in around her harder, and she knew the edge of it had to be close. She really needed to be close.

She charged forward but stumbled over a hidden obstacle, nearly tumbling into the snow. Swiftly catching herself, she jerks her head up, locking eyes with Lavender, whose gaze widens in surprise. Hermione sank to the ground, her movements urgent and methodical. Quickly looked over her form, eyes scanning for the sign of the injury that left her incapable of fighting. Panic set in as she focused on her leg, which looked like someone tried to chew it off, tendons, and muscle showing, and Hermione swore in the darkness she even saw bone peeking out. The shouts were overwhelming around her and the sound of spells rang in her ears as her eyes snapped from one part of her body to another.

"What happened?" she asked, casting a quick diagnostic charm, its light illuminating Lavender. Yeah, that was definitely a bone Hermione saw.

"One of them got me in the leg" Lavender squirmed "It really bloody hurts"

Hermione took a deep breath. She wouldn't be able to heal this here, even now the only reason they warranted surrounded was that Ginny was standing a few meters from them, taking the attention off them. She cast a quick linecing charm around them.

"This is going to hurt" Hermione whispered and before Lavender had a chance, she flicked her wand, resetting the broken leg. Lavender screams, a sound gutting Hermione.

"The worst is over I swear" Hermione reassures as she casts a quick Episkey, and even though she knows it is not enough the wound starts closing and maybe that way Lavender will be able to aparate and won't get fucking splintered. She rips her coat off herself, the frigid air hitting her sweaty back, she wraps it around Lavender's leg, and secures it in place. As she tugs it snug until she can hear Lavered shriek and she casts an apologetic glance at her.

"Hermione" He hears Fred from behind her and she leats a breath out, dismantling the silencing charm. "We thought we lost you"

"Can you get Lavender?" she turns, eyes raking over Fred's body, looking for injuries. He had a spit lip, but he didn't look in too bad of a shape, but Hermione knew he could be hiding internal bleeding under his clothes, he had done it before.

"Yes" Fredran over, and got Lavender's arm around him, helping her stand on her good leg.

"The line of anti-apparations wards should be there" Hermione points at the empty street behind them, and Fred arches a brow "It is just a feeling okay?"

"What about Ginny?" Fres shoots a curse at an approaching death eater, making him literary eat dirt.

"She will follow" Hermione turns shooting back over her shoulder "Get Lavender out before her leg falls off"

"IT COULD FALL OF?" Lavender shrieks and Hermione doesn't have time to look back because three curses are shooting their way, and Ginny's read braid is almost visible in the distance. She ducks, puts up a shield and shoots back into the white of the snow, hoping she isn't hitting Thomas.

"Ginny!" She creams, hoping it didn't just get them killed. For a second she loses her, in the next Ginny is next to Hermione, blocking a spell that would have taken her head off.

"Where have you been?" Ginny questions, her eyes wild as she shoots multiple curses in quick succession

"I just did a little sightseeing" Hermione shields Ginny's back and shoots a death eater.

"Fred?"

"He took Lavender back, I have a hunch on where the anti-apparition wards end" Hermione grunts and narrowly sidesteps a curse, Thomas?"

"Apparated back right before the wards got up" Ginny whirls, putting a dome of shield around them. It is blissfully quiet for a second, and Hermione can only hear her and Ginny's heavy breathing. The next second the sound comes barreling in and Ginny shoots a curse fast Hermione, so close she should feel the sparks on her face "It's just us" Ginny pants.

"Fantastic" Hermione mumbles and she ducks, her face almost hitting the snow again. She scrambles and shoots a curse blindly and she gets back up "The alley is on our right, we just ne-"

The resounding pops reverberate with such intensity that Hermione winces.

Hermione and Ginny lock eyes, understanding passing between them. They called in reinforcements, and they ran out of time.

"RUN" Ginny's scream pierces the air, and she bolts down the alley, with Hermione hot on her heels. They have to get out before any more of them get there, and if one of them figures out that with a simple heating charm, the snow curtain could fall, she and Ginny will die. Hermione stumbles, and almost falls again as Ginny is beyond the wards, she spins as she apparates, her eyes wide when she realises Hermione is not right behind her.

Hermone's legs felt like lead, but she was fucking close to the edge, she could practically see the simmering border of the anti-apparition wards where Ginny stood a second ago. She stands, her muscles screaming, and scurries towards the edge. From the corner of her eyes, a moving form pulls her attention, just before an arm closes around her wounded one and she bites on a scream. She can't be loud, but the pain shoots up her arm, almost buckling her legs beneath her. She tears her hand out of the clutch with a muffled cry and tries to run, but the blond hair, fair skin, and bright red blood covering the snow make her stop in her tracks mere centimetres from the anti-apparition lines. Because Draco fucking Malfoy was sprawled out in the snow-covered alleyway, rapidly bleeding out.

Fuck.

Hermione knows she should move.

The voices behind her were getting louder, and they must have realized where they had gone and she needed to go, now. Malfoy deserved to die anyway, he was a Death Eater, a bully, a swot, and he was the one who killed Dumbledore, who let the Death Eaters into Hogwarts. He would leave her in the snow, as he already did! He already left her there, letting her die without an ounce of remorse. He stood by as Hermione was tortured, branded, and did nothing. He deserved to die. Hermione had all the reason to leave him there to pretend she had to see him, to save herself.

Still… instead of freedom, her legs carried her toward Malfoy's form. She forcefully fell to her knees, jaws clenching at the impact and without even thinking cast a diagnostic charm on him. Blood was still oozing out from somewhere, but his black robes made it impossible for her to see anything other than the seen of the blood on cloth.

With a heart rate soaring and blood pressure plummeting she was surprised he was still alive, even more at him being conscious..

"The fuck have you been hit with?" She mumbles, running over a magical diagnostic aimed at finding the most magically concentrated surface area on the body, following the mark of the curse that hit him.

"The fuck are you doing?" Malfoy mumbles and for a second Hermione's eyes lock with his hazed icy blue ones. The blues she still saw in her nightmares, the blues she saw behind his mask when she broke into his mind, the blues that still haunted her.

"I have no idea" she mumbles fiercely, and she starts knotting the tissue on his abdomen together, being mindful of his organs. It doesn't need to be perfect he just needs to not die. Hermione can't let him die…

The shouts become louder and the first curse blows up painfully close to Hermione's head.

"This has to do" she wipers to herself, casting a last locking charm before quickly standing, wobbling on her legs. As she takes a step away, she can't help but look back. Her eyes collide with his which are full of delirium and questions. She should be running away, just a few steps and she is in the clear.

"Unlike you" she leans down instead, just like he did the last time they met "I am not a fucking monster." She huffs, glancing at the Death Eaters charging towards her "And I would rather not see another one of my ex-classmates bleed out, even if it makes me weak"

The curses are now close, so close as she stands she had to shield, and has officially run out of time. She sprints, her lungs burning, and a curse hits her left leg, but she doesn't stop, she can't stop. She barely jumps over the simmering line when the pressure disappears from around her, and she just apparates without thinking.

Wishing to be anywhere else but there.

She isn't necessarily surprised as she appears in front of her childhood home. Since the war really broke out she had visited the little structure a few times, most of them were accidental. Just like when she apparated Harry and Ron into the little forest she and her parents favoured throughout the years, after some battles she found herself in the same quiet street, debating if she had enough streaming to get back to HQ. At the moment, she knows she doesn't have enough fight in her to get through another apparition without the risk of getting splintered.

Biting back the pain she limps into the house she called home for 18 years. Tears stung her eyes, and as soon as she got in front of the familiar brown door she hesitated. She knew it wouldn't be the same, she knew what it would look like, she had been inside before, but still, every time she opened that door she couldn't help the hope that swelled in her, the hope that her parents were there, that her father is cooking something in the kitchen while her mother plays the piano. With a sigh, she opened the front door and fought the disappointment as she was faced with dust and snow, discarded furniture littering the entryway where her first school pictures were taken. Still, under all that dust and mould she could still feel the smell of home. She carefully closed the door behind her, and sank down, not being able to move more into the house. The floor was bloody under her, and she knew should have moved inside, but she was barely handling being there.

With shaky hands, she tries to mend her leg, the muscles closing together painfully. It wasn't a clean job, she should have cleaned it and needed Dittany to avoid scaring but it wasn't bleeding anymore, just slightly pulsing. As she looked down to her arm, her hand covered in blood, the burn there, she couldn't make herself fix it. Ever since she got the scar she never went close to her wound with her wand. The initial scar was incurable and repulsed magic. So Hermione just bandaged it, and whenever she hurt her arm or tried to claw the scar off she just used muggle medicine. Even now, as the glass cut through it, she just let the blood flow, dropping to the ground with loud drops.

With her other hand, she reached into her pocket looking for her coin. She needed to call someone, she should let them know she was okay, she didn't want them to get back, and search for her and get even more injured. Her fingers brush against the parchment, and with confusion she pulls out the letter, noting the muck and her bloody fingerprint on it. For some reason, she holds it closer and then feels the magic in it hum against her. She deeply wished her parent would be there now. They would understand, they would see that this was good information, that Hermione needed to figure out who this was, and why they were writing. They would understand her morbid curiosity, they would trust her.

She looks down at the letter again, her head swimming.

Who was she writing to?

Why were they betraying Voldemort?

Why did they write back in the first place?

Was Moody right? Was she insane for believing the letters?

Hermione glances around, picks up a button discarded on the ground and quickly tranfigures it into an ink pen.

Has she been actually played?

Yes, the information was accurate but was it just part of a bigger scheme?

She turns the page over, tearing the past correspondence right off the top and right under her bloody fingerprint, she writes her letter. When she gets back to HQ she will hunt down an owl and send it. She is not one to play with, she is not the dumb one.

The scenery fades in and out as she writes the last dot.

She folds the parchment with skay hands and is barely able to slide into her pocket right next to the pulsing coin before the word slips from her, and darkness takes over.