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Chap. 86: A Quiet Breath

Hermione Granger split off from the Gryffindors that were being led by the Prefects down to the Great Hall. Thanks to her discussion with Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil, the latter of whom had taken her side in urging the students of Gryffindor to not follow their instincts, and listen to what their teachers were instructing them to do for once, she had not only deduced what the goal of the attack was, but she now knew where to look for it too. She just needed a quiet moment.

Knowing that the other two girls who shared her dormitory had her back in such a way was... relieving. Lavender, she might have expected, the blonde was one of Harry's regular lovers, and a true Submissive that enjoyed other people telling her what to do, especially in the bedroom, but due to the dynamics in the group it wasn't a hard stretch to imagine Lavender yielding to Hermione too, who was very much seen (she thought) as 'second in command'. Parvati on the other hand? Well, she was a bit more of a shock. It wasn't that they didn't like each other, it was just that, like Lavender, they had little in common aside from being witches in Gryffindor and being of an age together.

Maybe it was the massage session Hermione had watched, what seemed like a lifetime ago but was really only... what, not even an hour?

Parvati and her twin Padma, who was a girl Hermione got along famously with thanks to the Ravenclaw being much more of a studious type, had given Lavender Brown a full-body massage that had ended in an orgasm. A nice, pleasurable, low-key experience for the four of them, since Hermione restrained herself to watching, just before the proverbial dragon-shite had been flung into the hurricane.

Even if Hermione hadn't directly participated, it was still a bonding experience more potent than the night the girls had shared a few months back, when Hermione and Lavender had gotten each other off while Parvati masturbated herself.

Those thoughts faded into the background of Hermione's mind as she neared her destination. There, on the seventh floor, opposite the secret door to the Room of Requirement, was a certain absurd Tapestry. Only the door was most certainly not hidden, and the absurdity was lost in the face of one of her friends crumpled on the floor before it.

Not prone, but on her knees, with her head of tousled, sandy-blonde hair completely draped over what she was sure was an expression of misery. Even from fifty or so feet away, Hermione knew she was alive. Alive, yes, but crying. Luna's shoulders shook every few seconds, and the muffled sounds of her sadness carried through the strangely quiet halls as if carried on ghostly wings.

Hermione had always been one who tried to look out for the victims of bullies, having been their target often enough herself. And being a woman of strong conviction and a need to help others had been what led her to Gryffindor in the first place. As her mother had replied after Hermione explained what the Houses were like and where she had been placed, "It says a lot about you, my girl, that even with all your brains you went to the House of the noble and brave."

It was something that had hit Hermione hard, not in the least because she had received that letter on the very morning Ron had sent her to the bathroom in tears for being a bossy little know-it-all on Halloween of her first year.

Oh, how things had changed from her youth!

Hermione, and all of their cotierre, as Lilith called it, knew Luna had been a victim of bullying. Some of them, like Ron, still occasionally called her Loony, though they said it with affection. Hermione, on the other hand, had never called her that, never even come close. Even though she frequently argued with the younger witch about what was real and what was not, she had respect for the girl's insight and their shared trauma. Now, knowing that there was a high possibility that Luna did, in fact, know about creatures no one else seemed to thanks to Lilith's correction on the pronunciation of two of them, well...

She did not need that confirmation to know that, arguments or not, Luna was her friend and worth listening to. She had been Hermione's friend since she became Harry's, and that was more than enough for her to like someone. Anyone Harry was fond of was a person worth being friends with, in her opinion. Her heart was already pounding with dread at not knowing, Hermione could only spare so much for the younger girl. She didn't know where Harry, Ron, Lilith, or Ginny were. She didn't know where many of her friends and lovers were, in fact. She didn't know who was attacking the school, or really why. All she had were suspicions and a sinking feeling based on magic she could not easily explain to anyone not already in the know about Lilith's Rituals.

But what space in Hermione's heart she could spare seemed to swell and grow as a desperate need to support and comfort Luna Lovegood rose within her, pressing out on the bounds of her heart, of her very soul.

Her arms closed around Luna gently, and the blonde seemed not to notice that one of her friends, one of her far too-few friends, had arrived and was holding her. At least, not at first. Then Hermione realized Luna had stopped crying, and suddenly too. She was holding her breath, tense.

As if she were scared.

"It's just me," Hermione murmured, "I'm here, and I've got you. What happened, Luna?"

The Ravenclaw relaxed slowly, enough that Hermione could tell it was happening, but not completely. Eventually, she sobbed again, just once, "My... my oldest friend at Hogwarts is g-gone..."

"Ginny?" Hermione asked, horrified, "What happened to Ginny?"

She was a little taken aback when Luna whimpered and shook her head, "No- Not Ginny. Helena."

No one had ever (accurately) described Hermione Jean Granger of being slow-witted. She figured out who Helena was quite quickly, based largely on her encyclopedic knowledge of Hogwarts: A History, "Ravenclaw? Helena Ravenclaw... she was the Grey Lady?"

Luna nodded against her arm, whimpering, "My first friend... at Hogwarts."

"Oh," Hermione replied softly, and her arms tightened around the waifish girl. That simple statement said so very much. Ginny and Luna had grown up as friends, the only girls their age in or around Ottery St. Catchpole, but due to the events of their first year with the Chamber of Secrets, no doubt, that friendship had been strained to the breaking point. The bullying of anything non-conformist in Ravenclaw, someone whose mind did not meet what most of the House would consider 'standard' intelligence, was doomed to make things worse. Untenable.

If Luna, strange as she might be, had to consider a long-dead woman her first friend at the school, she must have had a harder first year than even Hermione before she had become friends with Harry and Ron.

"You aren't alone now, though," she reminded Luna, "You have us. I'm sorry for your loss. I know it's hard to lose a- a friend. But you have us now."

"Do I?" Luna whimpered, "I've lost... more than Helena."

"I know about your mother, too," Hermione reminded her quietly as she shifted positions to kneel on one knee in front of Luna, but kept the hug continuous, "We all lose those we care about, that's part... just part of life. We all hate it, but it is part of life. And life... goes on. We go on, even after we pass. I believe that, Luna. Your mother is out there, and, somewhere, so is Helena Ravenclaw. Perhaps she's even finally making peace with her mother, after all these centuries."

Luna was quiet for a long time. Then she gave one last sob and lifted watery, bright blue eyes, "That's a nice thought. Thank you, Hermione."

"Anytime, Luna. I love you, you know."

"But you argue with me all the time."

"I..." Hermione stopped, and took a very long, slow, deep breath that was released even slower, "I don't like to admit that I'm wrong. It comes with being right a lot, I suppose. But I was wrong about you. If Lilith is backing you up about the creatures you say exist, then... then I have to at least try to believe the rest might be, too. In some fashion. I don't know everything, after all."

Luna gave a sort of strange, giggling hiccup, and to Hermione's horror, fresh tears began to well up, "That was one of Helena's favorite sayings. Admitting... Admitting that you don't know everything is the first real step to true wisdom."

"She probably got that from her mother."

"It sounds like something a Ravenclaw would say," Luna agreed, then lifted her head once more, now beaming through the salty tears, "Thank you, Hermione. We should check the Room of Hidden Things. I think I know what the attack was meant to cover."

"The Diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw was the Horcrux, then?"

This time, Luna's smile was even brighter, "Oh, you figured it out too, then? Well done, Hermione."

Unfortunately, as the two friends entered the Room of Requirement's lost and found configuration, even though Luna kept a tight hold on Hermione's hand, neither could find any sign of a certain tiara.

"I swear, it was just there," Hermione groaned, gesturing at the bust Luna remembered seeing it on last, though she had not known that was what it was, "The aura of a Horcrux... now I know what they look like. I could find one, or at least identify any of them I can see."

"That will help us," Luna declared, "Come, let's go find Harry and the others. Your hug was nice, but I think I could use more."

Hermione smiled softly as Luna started leading her back into the corridor, "You know what? I could, too."

The creature once known as Tom Marvolo Riddle starred in abject, absolute, all-consuming fury at the wreckage of his purloined home... and the pile of followers he had lost, "Someone will suffer most... dearly for this," he hissed, "Most dearly indeed."

Lucious Malfoy, owner of the home he had until recently resided in, in a great deal of comfort he may have added if anyone bothered to ask, was almost literally half gone. A full third of the once-handsome man's body had been scorched away by the devastating attack, with the rest being covered in horrific burns. Corbin Yaxley was gone from the waist up, burned away by the same scorching fire. Bellatrix and Severus, two of his most loyal, were among the only ones without cataclysmic injuries, and even Severus would take some time to heal. Bella, dear Bella, had proven her worth again. Even mid-coitus, she had sensed something amiss before he did, and her barrier had kept herself, young Meera Yaxley, and Bella's sister, Narcissa, unhurt along with himself. But there were so many, two score he estimated at a glance, gone.

Gone because he had mustered them in one place to prepare to reinforce the other attacks if needed.

"My Lord," Borgin, the weakling and fool, genuflected, "I bring word."

"Speak," Voldemort hissed. He did not bother telling the man that he had better bring good news. No idiot, not even Borgin, would think any amount of good news would spare them his wrath at this time.

"Th- The attack on Hogsmeade, um... was unsuccessful, My lord."

"I am not surprised. Go on."

"My- My Lord? Did- did you expect that attack to fail?"

"Do not question me, Mr. Borgin," Voldemort hissed. He had always hated the man who had once given him a job, then forced him to pander and kowtow to those who should have groveled at his feet. True, the employment had served him well, netting him the homes for his second and third Horcruxes, but he had still hated it, and hated bowing and scraping to this coward almost as much as he had hated flattering that old descendant of Hufflepuff. Smythe, or something like that. Smith? No... Smotte? Voldemort shook his head, it did not matter. She was dead now, and the relics she had purloined with ill-begotten wealth from his ancestors were his, now.

"My Lord," Borgin murmured after a moment, "My apologies. Yes, it was... a complete failure. Walden MacNair and... and others were... taken. Killed, or captured. Many brutally. MacNair was taken by- your creature, the vampire. My Lord."

"He's the one that triggered the wards," Bellatrix, who stood respectfully behind him on his right hand, where she belonged, hissed, "I felt him coming back, and it was too early."

So insightful. Only Bella would sense a single man coming back too soon, through protections he himself had given her control of as a mark of respect for her devotion, skill, and power, and assume something was wrong. Most of the other fools he called 'friends' were barely capable of stringing two words together, much less sensing an obvious trap.

"Indeed. Go on."

"The... the Aurors were there too soon, and in greater force, than we anticipated. And- and the people of Hogsmeade fought too, My Lord. Many of them."

Voldemort's red eyes narrowed, "The sheep have learned to fight back, have they? No matter, they will learn better soon enough. Continue."

"Tha- that's all, My Lord."

The eyes narrowed further, "Who returned?"

Borgin began to quiver and tremble, "N- No one, My Lord."

"No one."

"N- No, My Lord."

"No one. Not one, out of twenty-seven of my loyal Death Eaters, escaped?"

"N- No... My Lord. It's... it's worse. The t- team that went to the Forest? They're gone, too. Something... got 'em. A plant, perhaps. Five dead- eaten."

"That... is unexpected, and unwelcome news. Some new threat grows in the Forbidden Forest, it seems. Perhaps we will make use of it when the Castle is ours. Thirty-two dead, then. What of the Castle?"

"I've... I've received no word, My Lord."

"I wasn't talking to you, fool," Voldemort spat down at his former employer, then looked back at Snape, "What have the Slytherins been telling you?"

"Not much, My Lord," Snape murmured almost as quietly as Voldemort's own furious hiss, "Nott did assault the school, and apparently drew the attention of both Potter and Dumbledore, as well as that idiot Black. But they dared not stay when Nott began fighting them."

"Of course. If the attack began as it was timed, then.. where is Kalakay?"

"Wait..." Bellatrix said with a scowl, interrupting in a rare moment of clarity, "My Lord, she crossed the wards with MacNair. There was a Dark creature with him, it must have been her."

Voldemort's eyes narrowed once more to the most furious of slits.

Had she failed him, too? Had they all? Had she retreated without succeeding, despite all the work and preparation he had put into the multiple diversions, the protections against her being swayed by the enchanted rope he himself had fashioned painstakingly, and the transformation of the idiot Nott boy, too?

Just then, one of the few injured Death Eaters still on their feet bent down to pick up something from the rubble of the most-damaged section of Hogwarts Manor, which was still smoking. Voldemort recognized the scorched, blackened, twisted thing immediately.

Once, it was a finely-wrought tiara of goblin silver, inlaid with bronze filigree and sapphires. It had been the symbol of one of Hogwarts' greatest witches.

It had once housed a fraction of Lord Voldemort's soul.

Now, it was a piece of garbage.

Even Goblin metals could not stand up to... whatever that white-hot, searing light had been.

Blood ran cold in Voldemort's veins as he flicked his Yew and Phoenix feather wand to wordlessly summon the tiara. Once it slapped into his pale, cold hand, Voldemort knew once more an emotion he was all too familiar with: the cold grasp of fear.

"Bella... we must talk. Privately. I have a mission for you. I need you to retrieve something I gave to you for safekeeping some time ago... a certain Cup."

"Say no more, My Lord," Bellatrix, dear Bella, smiled rapturously, overjoyed as always to be of service, "How will we do it, My Lord?"

Yes, they definitely needed a private conversation... Perhaps Narcissa and the Yaxley cocksleeve would do to warm his nethers while he and Bella discussed the details.

After that, after his precious soul-shard was safe, he would have to check on the rest. Then... then it would be time to plan his revenge for this devastating blow.

Yes, he had much to do, it seemed.

"Severus, see to the cleanup. See if you can figure out what caused the damage, as well. What spell or potion did... this."

"My Lord," Snape murmured respectfully, his face as emotionless as it always was.

Voldemort nodded as he turned to walk away.

On the ground, Mr. Arcturus Borgin considered himself lucky that the Dark Lord had apparently forgotten all about him. He didn't much like getting hit with the Cruciatus Curse, after all.

"Merlin be Mighty," Flitwick whispered as he saw the line of injured coming on carriage, wagon, horseback, or even foot, despite damage to their lower bodies, up the road from Hogsmeade. He knew it would have been bad, and wished they could have spared more to help. But for now, he could do something, even though he hadn't yet gotten the all-clear that danger had passed, "Clancy," he directed to the invisible House-Elf without looking its way, "We're going to need more Elves to transport the wounded. If you can take them from where they are down the road directly to the hall outside the infirmary, I will send Pomona and Septima to assist with triage. When you've gotten more elves on the way, and passed on my instructions, I would like you to go to Acting Headmistress McGonagall and inform her that Hagrid and I will stay to watch the gate, but that I'm sending Charity to direct the injured down there."

"Yes, Professor Fleet-wick," the diminutive creature squeaked, "Clancy will do it." Then he was gone.

This was so much worse than he had feared, and the bodies of the Death Eaters outside the gates would surely only further traumatize the victims of what had probably already been a violent attack. Better if the Elves could bring them straight inside the castle. In the meantime...

"Hagrid, my friend, I'm afraid we have some gruesome work to do. Please bring the bodies inside the wall. Set them just there. I'm no Minerva, but I'm sure I'll be able to Transfigure them into something more suitable and enduring for later investigation."

"Right, Professor," the half-giant nodded, sounding completely unbothered by the fact that he'd just been asked to manhandle several mutilated, half-destroyed corpses.

Filius himself felt no care about it. They had made their choice when they agreed to assault a school full of children. The only reason he wasn't helping Hagrid move them was sheer, cold, practicality: He could watch the half-Giant's back with his wand easier than Hagrid could watch his with his crossbow, and the Giant would be able to move bodies without limiting his own firepower too much, just in case there was a follow-up attack.

He wouldn't put it past Voldemort or the Death Eaters. They had tried such despicable tactics before, after all, "Charity, while you're down there," he directed to the Muggle Studies Professor, "I need you to watch out for traps, or another ambush. I see Auror robes in the crowd directing them, but just in case. Be careful."

"Right you are, Filius," the kind middle-aged woman said, then stood tall and pushed her shoulders back, adopting the 'stiff upper lip' the Muggles seemed to enjoy so much, before she gave him the nod.

With a flick of his wand, the extra enchantments and locking spells on the gate responded to his authority as tertiary Headmaster, and they swung open. He would be ready to close them with a moment's notice once more, but he sincerely hoped that, for now at least, the fighting was over.

He did not enjoy the violence, even if he understood its necessity in this case. Either way, he was sure this long day was only going to get longer as the Aurors continued to escort wounded up to the castle.

No doubt St. Mungo's was already overflowing.

"I've got her, Harry," Ron grunted as he reached for the unconscious body of Lilith, who was still in her battle form, "I know you're plenty strong enough, but she's awfully long for you like this."

As much as Harry wanted, even needed, to be in contact with his Succubus right then, he forced himself to take a calming breath, and nod, "Thanks, Ron."

Ginny's hand on his left arm was a calming presence, too, as his best mate scooped up the Succubus from where Ginny had set her down, "I'll get Dumbledore," Sirius murmured, and patted Harry's other arm briefly before lifting the old man's body with his wand.

Harry, then, suddenly found himself in the middle of a long hallway that still shifted with a chill wind and slowly-warming snow, amid a pile of rubble. The far side of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom had been blasted apart too, though it seemed more the work of deflected spells from Sirius as Nott had appeared. The Chamber of Secrets had been open, its upper entrance torn apart.

"I guess everyone will know where it is now," he said quietly, then glanced at those still present. Sirius looked more exhausted even than he was, and his face and arms, every bit of exposed flesh and, more that shouldn't have been, was bleeding and bruised from his own extended battle, but his Godfather was on his feet, his expression firm and determined, his wand hand steady as it levitated the Headmaster.

Ron was hurt, too, and his breath wheezed uncomfortably as he inhaled and exhaled, but he showed no other signs of pain as he lifted the Succubus in a bridal carry, careful of her broken, twisted wings, which Ginny reached out to help support, "How's your chest, Ron?"

The ginger snorted, glancing down at the Succubus as she shifted with a pained whimper, "The one from the Platform was worse. This... it hurts, but it's like the armor's pressing on my chest, not really an injury. Once I figure out how to shift back, I think I'll be alright. Mostly, anyway. You? Gin?"

"'M alright," the younger witch replied quietly, "Barely scratched. What... what happened to Lilith?"

"Vampire," Harry growled without malice, only frustration, "She was so fast... had to have been old. Faster than Lilith, or me, or Sirius. At least, faster with Nott distracting us. And everything we did to him or her just... didn't stick. They healed so fast, too. Some kind of regeneration. Dumbledore- Dumbledore seemed to think they were linked, somehow. If we didn't hurt them both at the same time, it... wouldn't stay."

Sirius grunted as Harry started moving, the others falling in around him.

"We'll go to the hospital wing second then. I... I need to help Lilith first. Gin, once she's settled, can you go to Hermione, or McGonagall, and tell her we're alright, but... Dumbledore...?"

"I'll do that when I get him to the Hospital Wing," Sirius said instead, "I... It'll be hard, but I think I can still manage a Patronus to send a message with. And if not, I can just Floo or ask a portrait to tell her."

"I'll get Hermione, then, and then go back to the Great Hall to get the rest you took there," Ginny nodded, "Soon as we get her down. Where are we taking her?"

Harry glanced at Sirius, then shrugged tiredly, "My... well, I think any, but my... fluids, can heal her. The more, the better."

Sirius almost dropped Dumbledore, and his face was both amused and horrified, if bloody and pale at the same time, when he looked toward Harry, "What, Mini-Prongs? You're... gonna shag her healthy, again?"

"No," Harry snorted, not nearly as amused, "I need to get the fluid, but I'm not going to hurt her to get it. There's other... ways. Other women."

"I'll help, and I know Hermione will too," Ginny offered at once.

Sirius grunted in surprise again, and even Ron spoke up, "If it's any fluids, I'll also try and get Hannah, Neville, Luna, and the Slytherins- hell, anyone we can get. I'm sure they'd all want to help, since she's helped us so much."

Harry nodded, but didn't respond verbally. He didn't need to, Ron was right. His friends owed her, and he'd call in that debt if he needed to. Even... Even if Dumbledore was gone, and the castle damaged so severely, even if all hope seemed lost...He would not abandon her. He wouldn't abandon any of his friends, and was even less capable of abandoning someone he'd come to love. By the end of the day, come hell or high water, he would see her covered in semen, squirt, and whatever else it took for her Auto-erotic Healing power to work.

The day had hurt, and it would certainly leave its scars on them all, and the world. But it was not over yet, and maybe, just maybe, they could get an early start on making things right.

No need to put it off, and even less desire to, after all.

Harry had already had enough of waiting around. They had work to do, as soon as they were healed or healing again.

Apparently, a lot of it.