Hermione watched helplessly from afar as a burst of green streaked towards Sirius, who seemed frozen in place as the room was bathed in sickly green light.
But then Sirius was thrown backwards — crashing into the wall behind him where he fell limp.
The spell had missed him by mere centimetres, careening into the wall next to him to leave a sooty mark against the stone.
Cedric was in the doorway, his wand still aimed at the place Sirius had been kneeling. The aftershocks of his last-second Banishing Charm rippled around the room.
Moody stumped in beside him, his gnarled mouth hanging agape as he took in the scene.
Bellatrix's eyes went wide at the sight of Moody. Without a moment's hesitation, she turned tail and ran towards the door behind her.
Harry, still down in the centre of the stone pit, hadn't noticed either Moody or Cedric, only having eyes for Bellatrix. His expression was twisted in agony.
Oh no. Harry hadn't seen—
"You killed him! You killed Sirius!" he screamed, tearing off after her. "I'll kill you! I'll kill you!"
"Harry, no! Wait—" Hermione yelled, but he was already at the top, disappearing through the door on the heels of the Death Eater.
She took one look back at Sirius, plainly still unconscious, and then locked eyes with Cedric, who was already halfway to her. Hermione summoned all the strength remaining to her, burying the exhaustion deep within.
Moody would never get there in time, and someone needed to look after Sirius anyway. They had to reach Harry.
Together, she and Cedric ran the length of the room, targeting the same door.
"Oi!" came Moody's gruff shout. "What do you two think you're—"
The rest of his words were lost as the door shut behind them.
Hermione barely even realised her surroundings. She caught the white flash of Harry's trainer disappearing around the corner ahead and followed it blindly. She lost count of how many doors — how many rooms — they flew through, but eventually they were back inside the black circular room.
"Oh no," Hermione breathed, realising that both Harry and Bellatrix had somehow already moved on. "Where did he go? How did he get out?"
A door to their left flew open of its own accord, revealing a familiar dim-lit passage. In other circumstances, Hermione could have cried in relief to finally see the outside of the Department of Mysteries, but it seemed they couldn't escape their fates no matter how hard they tried.
Gasping, Hermione reached the lifts just after Cedric punched the button to call one. She could already hear another lift moving and banging, presumably carrying Harry upwards, when a second lift began clattering down to retrieve them.
They flew inside as soon as the grilles parted, jamming the button marked Atrium. It only made sense — if Bellatrix wanted out, she'd have to make it there to either use the Floo Network or Disapparate.
"Was that Sirius Black?" Cedric panted as the lift travelled upward, just now seeming on the verge of winded.
Hermione nodded mutely, too antsy to give a proper reply.
After an eternity, the grilles slid apart again, revealing the handsome polished floors of the Atrium. The first sound to reach her ears was Harry. He was shouting again at Bellatrix, and Bellatrix screamed in pain.
Hermione pushed herself to run faster than she ever had in her life.
"—and you'll never touch it!" Harry was now yelling as they came out from the lifts and towards the centre of the hall where the enormous fountain splashed. Bellatrix was on the floor in front of him, her teeth bared in anger. "Tell your Dark Lord that he'll never get his hands on that prophecy!"
Then a voice unlike any other commanded the room to silence.
"Won't I, Potter?" came a cold, high-pitched whisper. Hermione froze just behind Harry, who began looking around wildly for source of the voice.
Still lying on the ground, Bellatrix's mouth curved into a vicious smile.
Voldemort stepped quietly out of the shadows, his wand trained on Harry.
Hermione sucked in a painful breath at the sight of him. Even having a rough knowledge of his true appearance, he was more terrible — more nightmarish — than she could have imagined. He towered over them with a snakelike face as white as death. His eyes glowed frighteningly red from beneath his black hood, two hot coals burning with pure hatred.
His bloodless lips were stretched in triumph.
"I do, in fact, have the prophecy already," Voldemort said softly, "with no small thanks to your very own efforts tonight."
That seemed to shake Harry out of his stupor.
"Liar!" he yelled, shaking all over as he switched his wand from Bellatrix to Voldemort. Bellatrix scrambled back to kneel behind her master, watching him with reverent eyes.
"Months of preparation, months of effort..." Voldemort continued, tilting his head as he studied Harry, "and ultimately, it matters not in the end. You may beg for your life if you wish, Harry Potter, but I tire of these games. It is time for this matter to be settled once and for all. Avada—"
A whirl of purple fabric materialised directly in front of Harry, forcing Voldemort to pivot away from the sudden blast of power.
Hermione's hair was blown black and she squinted against the wind driving into her, forcing her back several steps.
When it stopped, Albus Dumbledore was standing directly in front of Harry, his face lined in fury and his posture radiating power.
"Dumbledore," Voldemort hissed, immediately firing off a jet of green light that Dumbledore redirected back at him with a wave of his wand. Voldemort swiped it away where it crashed into the life-sized golden statue of a centaur inside the fountain. The centaur fell over with a metallic bang, its arrow continuing to stream water out onto the gleaming floor.
"You shouldn't have revealed yourself tonight, Tom," Dumbledore said calmly, completely at odds with the anger etched on his face.
He began walking towards Voldemort, forcing the evil wizard to retreat further away from Harry, Hermione, and Cedric. Gathering her wits, Hermione took the opportunity of Voldemort's distraction to begin cautiously edging backwards, motioning for the boys to do the same. Cedric nodded and followed suit, but Harry just stared blankly at her.
She reached forward to tug Harry's hand. Harry allowed himself to be pulled back away from Voldemort and Dumbledore to the far wall, walking as if in a trance.
"I got what I came here for, Dumbledore," Voldemort snarled as he and Dumbledore began to circle each other. "I have in my possession the very information which you sought to hide from me all these years."
Behind Voldemort, Bellatrix got to her feet, skulking in her master's shadow with her wand also aimed at Dumbledore. Hermione felt a flash of fear for their old Headmaster; he was a legendary duellist, but she'd experienced first-hand the sheer speed with which Bellatrix could attack. And Voldemort was certainly faster.
"It is true," Dumbledore conceded, "I did not wish to give away that information before I must. But do not be overconfident, Tom — much as you might be unwilling to believe it, you were destined to collect the prophecy tonight without interference. It was of my design to allow you to finally have that which you had long sought after."
Voldemort laughed a high-pitched, grating sound. Hermione felt her hair stand on end.
"Do not try to save face, Dumbledore," Voldemort spat. "You had your Order ready and waiting in attempt to thwart my Death Eaters tonight. Unless you mean to tell me that you sent the boy here to take it for me? A bold gamble, even for you—"
"No, Tom," Dumbledore said with a shake of his head. "It was Harry — Harry and his friends — who took down most of your Death Eaters tonight." Hermione felt Voldemort's eyes pass over her as he looked back to where the three of them were standing across the room. She shivered uncomfortably.
"A lesson in humility you would do well to remember," Dumbledore was still saying. "You are not as powerful as you believe—"
A blast of yellow light streaked towards Dumbledore, who turned on the spot and reappeared behind Voldemort, already waving his wand. Bellatrix fell over with a shriek, her wand arcing high in the air to land with a plunk in the fountain.
Voldemort spun, too, his black cloak whirling around him, and sent back a torrent of flames that Dumbledore had to quell with an equal deluge of water. Steam began filling the room. Voldemort was already moving again, firing off another bar of green light towards Dumbledore.
Unnoticed by Voldemort, the other remaining statues from the fountain had come to life.
While the golden wizard leapt in front of Dumbledore, swallowing the blast and shattering into pieces, the goblin, witch, and house-elf statues surrounded Voldemort, attempting to overpower him.
Voldemort screamed in fury and the statues went flying, blown back by a strange-looking silver shield that was now cocooning him. Hermione and Cedric were forced to throw up Shield Charms to protect themselves from the raining bits of shrapnel.
Even when a jagged bit of metal sliced his cheek, Harry stood by listlessly, his wand dropped uselessly at his side.
Voldemort then vanished, forcing Dumbledore to wheel around while blocking another Killing Curse when Voldemort reappeared behind him.
Hermione watched open-mouthed as the two wizards continued to trade deadly wandfire. It was a constant dance; flashes of light rebounded and fractured as Dumbledore and Voldemort vanished and reappeared around each other at astounding speed. Even fearing for her life and the lives of those next to her, Hermione knew she might never see such a powerful display of magic ever again.
Somehow, through it all, Dumbledore always managed to stay between themselves and Voldemort.
Sudden movement to her side had her jumping. Without warning, Cedric was suddenly running full tilt towards the fray, and Harry was right on his heels. Distracted by the duel, Hermione had missed the one thing they'd both seen.
Behind Dumbledore, who was currently fending off a horde of serpents with whip-like tongues of flame, Bellatrix was now crawling swiftly on her hands and knees towards Dumbledore's back. In her hand was a short silver knife.
Voldemort's head snapped to Harry, but his wand pointed to Cedric, who was closer.
"Expelliarmus!" Cedric yelled, yanking the silver knife from Bellatrix's hand just as Voldemort screamed, "Avada Kedavra!"
Hermione screamed in horror as Harry dived in front of Cedric, a burst of red light from Harry's wand countering the lethal green light only centimetres from Harry's chest.
Time slowed again.
Dumbledore turned, genuine fright in his expression, just in time to see Harry's red and Voldemort's green jets of light meet in mid-air.
In an instant, the light between their wands was neither red nor green, but a single line of pure, glistening gold. It fractured almost immediately into thousands of threads of light, forming a golden cage around both Harry and Voldemort and lifting them high into the air.
Hermione saw Voldemort's eyes widen in astonishment and rage, but Harry only looked determined. He also looked as if he were struggling to hold on to his wand, quivering uncontrollably with both hands wrapped around the handle.
Now that she looked, Voldemort, too, had both hands on the hilt of his wand.
Dumbledore made no move to interrupt whatever magic was at play, instead sending a spell towards a gaping Bellatrix that knocked her out cold. He then began to circle the pair above him, waving his wand in intervals while his lips moved silently.
Hermione ran forward until she was shoulder-to-shoulder with Cedric, who also was staring incredulously up at the two wizards. He didn't seem to realise he was trembling.
The golden threads wrapping Harry and Voldemort seemed to pulse with power, vibrating so quickly they almost blurred together. And then a beautiful, otherworldly sound filled the air — one Hermione had tasted only a short time ago.
It was a phoenix song.
The notes of the song struck a chord somewhere deep inside her, washing away the fear, pain, and exhaustion, and leaving a resounding swell of hope in their place. Next to her, Cedric stood a little taller.
The birdsong seemed to have the same effect on Harry — suddenly he wasn't struggling as hard in the silent battle he and Voldemort had going. Voldemort, on the other hand, appeared even more off-put than before. He snarled something at Harry, his lips moving to form the words but his voice strangely muffled. Whatever Harry's response, it, too, was dampened to the point of unintelligibility.
Thinking of Fawkes, Hermione was reminded of a night many months ago when Dumbledore had explained the concept of the Reverse Spell Effect, Priori Incantatem. Whatever was happening now seemed to be a by-product of the fact that Harry's and Voldemort's wands shared a phoenix feather core. Dumbledore's inability to intervene seemed to confirm it.
Beneath the ethereal song of the phoenix, distant footsteps reached her ears. Hermione looked over to see three figures entangled into one approaching slowly from the direction of the lifts.
Moody and Tonks were on the outside, and between them, an arm over each of their shoulders, was a limping Sirius. Sirius's eyes remained locked on the golden cage above them as they drew near. His jaw was tight and a vein jumped at his temple.
Hermione returned her attention to Harry to find that his advantage hadn't lasted long — the golden thread connecting his and Voldemort's wands now had a huge bead of light in the centre, and it slid steadily towards Harry's wand. As the ball of light came closer to the tip of his wand, Harry's entire frame began shaking violently. Voldemort twisted his wand and the bead slid to nearly touching. Harry grimaced, clapping a hand to his scar.
Suddenly, the phoenix song seemed to crescendo. There was a burst of flame high above the golden cage and Fawkes soared out from it. The magnificent phoenix dived down gracefully, circling Dumbledore once before quickly rising again and penetrating the golden light with ease to land on Harry's shoulder.
In the air, the golden bead shuddered to a stop. Slowly, it began pushing incrementally in the other direction, back towards Voldemort's wand. Voldemort's expression immediately filled with fear.
Harry glanced once at the bird on his shoulder before doing a double-take. He froze, looking back towards Sirius with wide, unbelieving eyes. Sirius met his gaze fiercely, doing his best to remain standing tall.
Hermione could see the moment that realisation sunk in; Harry's face screwed up and he fell to his knees, and the golden bead slipped backwards to make contact with his wand.
Voldemort's eyes widened in glee. Dumbledore stilled, his gaze latched on Harry's wand. Spreading his magnificent wings, Fawkes fluttered out of the cage and back down to perch on Dumbledore's shoulder.
At once, shadowy sparks began to surround Harry, emitting from his wand tip. After the pale red sparks came echoing screams of pain. Harry flinched at those, screwing his eyes shut and clutching at his scar. After that came more and more showers of sparks, in strangely recognisable patterns.
Hermione pieced it together immediately; it was the ghostly imitation of every spell he'd cast appearing in reverse order.
While this was happening, a fireplace on the other end of the Hall burst into life. Green flames flashed on the hearth, and a distant figure stepped out, walking at a measured pace towards the gathering in the centre of the Atrium.
Voldemort, apparently realising now that the victory of his wand over Harry's was not a victory of lethal consequence, took one look around the room before his gaze settled on Dumbledore, standing just below. With a silent snarl, Voldemort abruptly wrenched his wand into the air, severing the connection between the two wands and breaking the golden cage. In an instant, he'd transformed into something undefined, his inhuman face gleaming out of a vortex of blackness.
"No!" came a strangled cry from Sirius.
Hermione and the others jumped into action, all rushing to get to Harry, but Voldemort moved the opposite direction, flying in a whirl of darkness to settle over Bellatrix. Together, they disappeared on the spot.
Despite his injury, Sirius reached Harry first. Sirius immediately drew Harry into a tight embrace, and Harry wept openly on his shoulder while the others gathered close.
Dumbledore looked to Tonks, Fawkes swaying on his shoulder.
"Remus?" he asked, his wand already stowed away and a hand on Harry's shoulder.
"With the kids," Tonks responded. "We had to lock the Floo from the other side to keep them from coming back to the fight."
Dumbledore nodded, patting Harry's shoulder once before stepping to the side, looking over all of their heads.
"Cornelius," Dumbledore said.
Hermione whipped around to see Cornelius Fudge, still in his eveningwear, walking placidly by their group without a second glance.
"Cornelius," Dumbledore repeated more forcefully. Everyone turned to look now — even Harry lifted red-rimmed eyes to stare at Fudge.
Fudge stopped, blinked once, then looked around. He seemed rather startled by the number of people looking back at him.
"Ah, what's that now?" he said, his hands making an odd sort of twisting motion. "Dumbledore! I say, what are you doing in the Ministry this time of night?"
"I might ask the same of you Cornelius," Dumbledore replied sternly, peering at Fudge overtop his half-moon spectacles.
Fudge drew himself up. "In case you have forgotten, Dumbledore, I am the Minister for Magic! I do not need a reason to be here, whereas you are most unwelcome. In fact, I have just arrived to finish up some paperwork after a most wonderful demonstration at Hogwarts School..." Fudge paused, scratching his head. "Madam Umbridge has done a superior job in reforming the school. Truly, it has never been more orderly..."
Dumbledore frowned. "And did you perhaps notice an unexpected guest when you arrived at the Ministry just moments ago? I've tried tell you for months now, Lord Voldemort has returned—"
Fudge jumped violently at Voldemort's name.
"Enough of this nonsense, Dumbledore!" he cried. "You are far too old to be telling such tall tales! I will entertain it no longer!"
"Do you continue to deny it," Dumbledore thundered, "even after seeing the proof with your own eyes not one minute ago?"
"You're mad, Dumbledore! Absolutely raving!" Fudge yelled back. "Now leave the premises before I am forced to call in the Aurors. All of you! Go!"
With that, Fudge turned, continuing to walk slowly towards the lifts. He didn't look back, not even to acknowledge the irrevocably destroyed Fountain of Magical Brethren. His robes trailed carelessly through the growing puddle from the centaur's arrow.
"It is worse than I feared," Dumbledore said gravely as Fudge disappeared at the end of the hall. "In addition to the covered-up break-out of several prominent Death Eaters from Azkaban, we now have confirmation that Voldemort has already managed to work his way in to the upper echelons of the Ministry. It is impossible to tell how long Fudge has been under the curse, and I fear that any attempts to reach him will be in vain. Fudge himself does not want to believe the truth."
Dumbledore sighed softly, glancing once at Harry before addressing the Order members.
"Alastor, please alert the rest of the Order — we need to convene as quickly as possible. Tonks, get Sirius to Grimmauld. I will send a trusted Healer and very old friend by as soon as I am able. I must talk to Harry briefly and get him, Miss Granger, and Mister Diggory back to Hogwarts. It is imperative that Dolores Umbridge never discovers that they have left."
Tonks and Moody nodded solemnly at their instructions. Sirius pulled Harry into a final, tight hug.
"Stay strong, Harry," Sirius said into the top of Harry's head. "I'll have my mirror on me if you have trouble sleeping. You did well." He looked over at Hermione and Cedric and nodded. "All of you."
Before leaving, Sirius clapped hands with Cedric. "I owe you my life, Diggory. Thank you."
Cedric stammered out something unintelligible in response, looking rather off-put at shaking hands with notorious criminal and mass-murderer, Sirius Black.
"Come along," said Dumbledore, sweeping them down the hall towards the fireplaces. Fawkes took off, disappearing mid-air in a burst of flame. "We must hurry — there is not much time."
Harry stumbled along at the front, his shoulders slumped and his expression exhausted. Hermione took turns casting worried glances at Harry's back and peeking at Dumbledore out of her peripheral vision. Something seemed different about him, but she couldn't quite place it.
Dumbledore stopped in front of the fireplace and made a complicated motion with his wand. He then stepped back and nodded in satisfaction.
"We will speak more when we have all reached safety."
And he produced a small silver pot of Floo Powder from the pocket of his robes, offering it to Harry first.
Harry took a pinch, mechanically dropping it into the gate and stepping into the green flames. He disappeared almost immediately, without even naming his destination.
"Mister Diggory?" Dumbledore said next, offering the pot to Cedric. Cedric, too, disappeared without speaking.
"And finally, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said, gracing her with a small smile and gesturing forward. Hermione took a pinch of powder, her eyes drawn mysteriously to Dumbledore's outspread arms.
In one hand, he held the small silver pot for her.
The other hand was missing altogether.
Hidden beneath the draping sleeves of his robes, Dumbledore's left arm ended in a smooth, shiny stump of flesh.
Hermione's mouth fell open and she dropped the powder into the grate in surprise.
For the second time that evening, she was forcibly reminded of her foray into the future — a future that, for the very first time, was no longer guaranteed with absolute certainty. She'd barely registered that the missing hand was the very same one she'd once seen blackened and mangled before Dumbledore was repeating his gesture towards the fireplace, the pot already stowed away.
"After you," he said kindly, his blue eyes regaining some of their usual twinkle.
Though her shock must have been obvious, Dumbledore didn't act as if anything were amiss.
Eager to be out of the Ministry, Hermione stepped forward automatically, letting the green flames envelop her whilst closing her eyes and tucking her elbows. Head already throbbing, she barely even noticed the jostling of the Floo. The roaring in her ears was pleasantly deafening this time, muting the rest of the world for a few seconds of solace.
Hermione sucked in a measured breath, heedless of the ash swirling around her, thinking that if she had to endure any further surprises tonight, she might go mad.
When the spinning stopped, she was greeted by a welcome sight; all of her friends were waiting for her in a large, beautiful, and very familiar circular room. The portraits of old headmasters and headmistresses covering the walls weren't even pretending to be asleep, but watching the fireplace expectantly.
Lupin stepped into her line of view, offering a hand to help her onto the hearth.
Professor McGonagall looked up from where she stood behind Luna, her mouth set in a stern line.
Hermione grasped Lupin's hand, allowing him to assist her off the logs while she met the eyes of each of her friends in turn, seeking reassurance. They'd made it.
Ron, whose face was paler than usual, his freckles standing out starkly against his skin, met her gaze with open relief. Though the corner of his mouth lifted, his fingers still twitched around the hem of his jumper.
Luna swayed back and forth on her feet, her hands folded docilely at her waist. Her eyes were closed.
Ginny scowled at Lupin, her foot tapping out a staccato rhythm against the floor.
Neville, too, was unabashed in his anger. His eyes held a fire she'd never seen before — he practically quivered with it, his hands balled into tight fists at his sides. He stared at no one in particular.
Cedric waited patiently, his face betraying nothing. He kept his eyes, one of them black and blue, on the fireplace.
Harry stared down at his feet, not looking up even when Lupin attempted to address him.
Hermione spied the clock on the far wall, shocked to find that it was barely past nine in the evening; somehow, they'd been in the Ministry for less than three hours.
It felt like a week.
She crossed the room to stand next to Ron, who was looking very clean despite everything, and felt surprise that he, Ginny, and Luna had managed to get out unscathed.
Except, as she watched McGonagall briskly tending to Cedric's eye and Neville's lip, she realised there was dried blood on Luna's shirt and Ron had a bright pink spot of new skin stretching over the back of his wand hand.
And now that Hermione was paying attention, the extent of her own injuries slammed into her. Her head felt heavy, and her curls pulled against her cheek and the back of her neck every time she turned her head, dried blood making her skin feel taut. She rolled her shoulders back, feeling the left one protest the movement. There wasn't a single part of her body that wasn't sore and exhausted.
Suddenly, the flames reared high and flashed green again, and all eyes turned to watch Dumbledore unfold himself from the fireplace. He straightened, his beard swinging as he surveyed the room. His eyes settled longest on Harry before he turned back to address them all.
"We have much to discuss, and not much time to discuss it."
McGonagall hopped back into motion, coming over to circle Hermione as he spoke. Hermione felt the cool sting of some kind of healing spell wash over her head and her vision sharpened. Her gaze remained trapped on Dumbledore's left sleeve as he gestured — she was unable to shake the memory of what lie hidden beneath.
"First and foremost," Dumbledore continued, "I want to assure you that there will be no formal repercussions for the events of tonight. You made the best decision you could with the information you were given. I am not — nor are any other Order members — disappointed in your actions tonight."
Harry's eyes snapped up to Dumbledore on the word disappointed. He gazed at their old Headmaster, a frown pulling at the corners of his mouth.
"You have all shown courage and bravery beyond our expectations. Now, as we have so little time, I would like for—"
The door to the Headmaster's office burst open. Snape stepped over the threshold, his black eyes roving over their assembled group before landing on Dumbledore.
"She suspects," he announced, "she is on her way."
"Does she suspect they've left the castle?" Lupin cut in.
Snape spared a sneer for Lupin before addressing himself to Dumbledore.
"She does not, but she will soon. The students have been sent to their common rooms, and her Inquisitorial Squad is sweeping the halls for stragglers. Mister Filch is observing all known passages in and out of the castle, and Umbridge will be taking head counts for each House and beginning interrogations for the disaster tonight. She has received the Minister's full approval to administer Veritaserum and is heading to Gryffindor Tower as we speak. The potion is not from my private stores," Snape added, giving Dumbledore a significant look.
"Minerva," Dumbledore said quickly, "head her off — tell her anything."
McGonagall stepped back from Hermione with a curt nod and swept out of the office. At the same time, Dumbledore bent to speak in a low voice to Lupin, who nodded once in response and immediately strode over to the fireplace to let himself out in a flash of green fire.
Then Dumbledore turned his blue eyes on Harry.
"Harry, we must speak, but it will not be tonight. You are to return to Gryffindor common room with the others. I will send a message with Sirius when the time comes for us to meet again."
Harry opened his mouth angrily. "What? After all this? I need to know why, Professor — why there's a prophecy I've never heard of and why Voldemort gets to have it now. Can't you just—"
Dumbledore raised a hand. "Harry, it is imperative that Umbridge does not discover your former whereabouts this evening. I know you have suffered much tonight, but it does not change our circumstances. We will speak more on this matter soon — you have my word."
Without giving Harry the chance to respond, Dumbledore turned to Snape.
"Severus, please ensure Mister Diggory and Miss Lovegood return safely to their common rooms." He looked back to Harry. "Harry, please use your cloak to return yourself, Mister and Miss Weasley, and Mister Longbottom to your common room. Run if you must, but you must be inside before Madam Umbridge arrives."
Lastly, Dumbledore turned to Hermione.
"Miss Granger, if you would deign to stay here a few extra moments, I would be most grateful."
Hermione blinked at Dumbledore, taken aback by his unexpected request.
Just about to alight on the spiral staircase behind Cedric and Luna, Snape stilled, his dark eyes flashing back to Dumbledore's. Dumbledore looked away.
Harry's jaw dropped in outrage. "Professor—"
"Enough, Harry," Dumbledore broke in sternly, his blue eyes hardening. "It is time to go."
Harry's nostrils flared but he closed his mouth.
Realising she still had Harry's cloak, Hermione fished it out of her pocket, her hand brushing the box of her magical signature crammed beneath it. Harry took the cloak without looking at her.
She watched as Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Neville squeezed together, Ron practically having to bend in half to accommodate the others beneath the cloak. All of them were still visible from the knees down as they made for the stairs.
At some point, Snape had already gone.
When the others disappeared, Dumbledore turned to her.
"Thank you for staying, Miss Granger. There is still not much time, but I must ask of you an egregious favour — a favour for which I have no right to be asking."
She nodded mutely, watching Dumbledore with wide eyes.
"At this time, Harry is still in grave danger," Dumbledore continued, peering at her over his spectacles. "To let Harry be detained by Umbridge, and by extension, the Ministry, is to let Voldemort have him. You've realised this?" he asked as she gave a small nod.
"Yes, Professor," she responded breathlessly, a sinking feeling in her stomach.
"Dolores Umbridge will not rest until she has a scapegoat for the misdeeds of the evening. It will be highly unpleasant, but she will not resort to expulsion or detainment for anything less than Harry, who would be immediately turned over at Fudge's insistence. Do you understand my meaning?"
Hermione nodded again, swallowing heavily. Dumbledore's eyes never left hers.
"She will know that there were accomplices — the events at Hogwarts this evening took as much, if not more, preparation as her own demonstration, but a detainee would occupy her focus, and prevent her from forcibly dragging answers out of those who could not resist. You have learned the basics of Occlumency, yes?"
"Yes," Hermione squeaked out, her throat tight. How did he know?
Dumbledore nodded in satisfaction, observing her carefully. "It is no ordinary feat to resist the effects of Veritaserum with the level of informal training you have received. Fortunately for us, you are anything but ordinary."
Hermione took a deep breath, closing her eyes. To think, she'd been so relieved to be back at Hogwarts, to believe the worst was over—
"Now," Dumbledore said, "would you prefer to exit down the stairs? Or shall I connect the Floo to Gryffindor Tower?"
Hermione opened her eyes, watching Dumbledore uncertainly.
Then it hit her — he was giving her a choice. An out. She didn't have to do this.
Except she did. Harry's life depended on it.
Hermione drew herself up, preparing herself for one more fight this evening.
"I'll do it," she said, proud at the way her voice held steady. "I will take the stairs."
Dumbledore nodded slowly, watching her in turn. His eyes twinkled differently than usual, almost like unshed tears...
Then he swept towards the fireplace, throwing in another pinch of Floo powder. Before he stepped inside, he turned to her one last time, a sad smile on his face.
"Welcome to the Order of the Phoenix, Miss Granger."