AN: Happy New Year! This is the last part before we move into the final portion of this story!
Lucius glanced at Narcissa, who remained silent, her face pale but unreadable. He sighed and gave a curt nod. "Fetch River."
The room grew colder as Bellatrix's laughter filled the air. "Oh, this will be fun, won't it?" she cooed, leaning toward Hermione, her eyes alight with sadistic glee. "Let's see what secrets you're hiding, mudblood. My River will tear them from you piece by piece."
Chapter 14: Play the Part…in Its Right Place
Narcissa Malfoy swept through the halls of Malfoy Manor, her heart pounding in her chest as her footsteps echoed off the marble floors. The urgency in Bellatrix's voice still rang in her ears— and Narcissa needed to focus to keep the cold dread away.
She moved swiftly as she reached the wing where River and Draco's rooms were located. Her hand, trembling slightly, grasped the ornate doorknob to River's room. There was no time for formalities, as she would have little time to prepare them for what lay ahead. She turned it and pushed the door open without knocking.
The scene that greeted her was one Narcissa could not have imagined.
Draco's body was pressed against River's equally unclothed form, her legs wrapped around his waist as they stood against the wall beside the fireplace. His lips were on her neck, and River's head was tilted back, lost in the moment, her fingers tangled in his hair.
For a split second, Narcissa froze, her breath catching in her throat. The shock was like ice water running through her veins. Draco—her son—was entangled with River in a way that left nothing to the imagination..
"Ahem!" Narcissa's voice was sharp, slicing through the air like a whip.
Both River and Draco startled, their heads snapping towards the door. River's eyes widened in horror, her cheeks flushing deep red, while Draco froze to not reveal the even more compromised position that they were in.
"Mother—I—" Draco stammered.
Narcissa didn't flinch. Her expression was a tightly controlled mask, but her eyes betrayed the tumult of emotions warring beneath the surface—shock, annoyance, and something else—perhaps a mother's plot unfolding the way she hoped.
"There is no time for this," she snapped, her voice tight with urgency. "The snatchers have brought Hermione Granger here and Bellatrix has called for River. You will get dressed and follow me immediately."
She turned sharply on her heel, her heart still racing as she closed the door behind her with a resounding click.
A few moments later, River and Draco appeared from the room looking mostly intact, their earlier dress clothes transfigured into something more appropriate for the task they were being summoned for. Their faces were pale like Narcissa's had been when she had caught them. As they moved into the hall, Narcissa stopped both with a look that could turn water to ice.
"We'll ignore… that…for the time being." Narcissa starts. "Know you are walking into something far different than you have before. You will have to make a choice… and once you do, be prepared to follow through."
The gravity of the situation sits in around them, and Narcissa rushed forward to draw both into her arms.
"Mother?" Draco questions as he pulls away to look at her face.
Narcissa's face softened for a brief moment, a rare flicker of vulnerability breaking through her usual poised demeanor. She glanced at Draco, her eyes filled with an emotion she hadn't allowed herself to show in years—fear, not just for him, but for what lay ahead.
"I have protected you both as much as I could," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly. "I will support whatever choice you make."
She hesitated, then looked down the corridor, her eyes flicked to River, then back to Draco. "Remember that loyalty is not always to those who demand it the loudest. Be wise in who you truly trust."
Draco's brow furrowed in confusion, but before he could respond, she pulled him close again, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "You are stronger than you know, both of you."
Narcissa stepped back, her composure returning like a shield. "Now, go. And remember what I've said."
River's POV
No more words were exchanged as we walked to the main entry of Malfoy Manor. None of us risked anything being overheard. The hallway seems to stretch on infinitely longer than it has over these past fourteen weeks, and my heartbeat thundered in my ears. Every step felt like taking a step closer to a precipice, and each one forward made my magic coil tightly inside of me to the point I felt it splintering as I try and hold it back. I steady my mind and body, forcing them to go numb so that I can mentally prepare for what is about to happen.
An intermission of your fate
Close your eyes, God gives, or takes it away
You try and forget all your hate
Anger thrives, trapped in a steel crate
Hermione's screams echo through the hallway as we come to the top of the stairs. I look down to see that Bellatrix has her magically restrained on the floor, while Lucius and Rabastan look on. I have no clue where Greyback and Rodolphus have gone, possibly to deal with the snatchers' reward, which means we have little time left.
Bellatrix leaned in close to Hermione, her voice a sickening coo as she dragged the blade along Hermione's arm. "Tell us where they are," she whispered, the dagger gleaming with menace. "We know you were traveling with them."
"I don't… I don't know…" Hermione gasps between her sobs.
"I thought you meant for River to do the honors?" Narcissa questions as she begins to descend the stairs.
Bellatrix turns now, a smile unlike I have seen graces her face, like a carved, jagged grin. "Only warming her up." Bellatrix says as she stands.
And you're heading south
And talking too loud
The time isn't now
You breathe in and out
As I reach the bottom of the stairs, Bellatrix approaches me, dagger outstretched in her hand. "Now sweetheart, show me what you have learned."
I take the dagger in her hand, already it is tainted by violence and covered in Hermione's blood. I walk towards where Hermione is restrained, again, willing my face to stay passive. Bellatrix, Rabastan, and Lucius will expect a show, but I need to buy time.
"Please…I don't…" Hermione says as she tries to stay calm. I can see the fear in her eyes, her fear of me… she doesn't know what to expect from me, not anymore.
"Trust me." I push the thought into her mind, hoping that she does not betray the thought in her face. There is a flash of recognition, a small, almost imperceptible speck, and then her fear returns, more believable than ever.
I'm thinking of march
A crushing false start
No actress and you didn't
I crouch down, straddling Hermione as I held the dagger aloft, my hand steady despite the storm raging inside me. I drag the dagger along the exposed skin of her arms, but not pushing down deeply enough to draw blood. "You will tell me what you know." I almost hiss at her, like a serpent playing with its food. Bellatrix, Rabastan, Lucius—they were all watching, waiting for me to prove myself, so I force my face to remain impassive, while internally I want to scream.
"Please…I…"
"TELL ME!" I scream as I drop down further and stab the dagger close to Hermione's side in such a way that the angle makes it hard to see if I have indeed stabbed her for those watching. My heart pounded in my throat, praying they'd believe it. I felt Bellatrix's eyes burn into the back of my skull, but I didn't look up.
Play the part
"Don't move yet." I drop my head down next to Hermione and whisper a finite so that the magical shackles give way and again push a thought towards her. "My left pocket… aim for Lucius… when I say now."
"Can't look. Can't look." I tell myself as I close my eyes. "Now." I push towards Hermione and I twist, throw the dagger, and channel my magic into it so it's aim is true. A scream rings out, and then chaos descends around us.
The dagger River held a moment ago was now deeply embedded in Rabastan's skull. His body crumpled to the floor, a pool of blood quickly forming beneath him. Lucius stood frozen, his mouth agape, unable to process what had just happened when Hermione, seizing the opportunity, yanked River's wand from her pocket. She cast Petrificus Totalus, and Lucius's body went rigid, collapsing onto the cold marble floor.
"NO!" Bellatrix screamed, fury contorting her face as she whipped out her wand, aiming directly at River.
However, before she could, Draco's voice called out "Expelliarmus!" And Bellatrix's wand went shooting into his hand.
"YOU! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" Bellatrix screeched, her voice breaking with disbelief as she lunged toward Draco. Just as her fingers were about to close around him, River threw herself at Bellatrix from behind, tackling her to the ground. The two women fell in a heap, and River's fists rained down on Bellatrix as she desperately clawed at her attacker.
"Stupefy!" Draco shouted. Bellatrix went limp beneath River, her eyes still ablaze with rage even in her unconscious state.
"We need to get out of here!" Draco said, panic in his voice as he pulled River off Bellatrix and dragged her over to where Hermione was trembling, still dazed from the torture. "Mother, you have to come with us." Draco said as he held his hand out to her.
Narcissa shook her head, her face pale and etched with grief. "I can't leave…" She whispered. "I can only hold the wards open for you."
"Mother…no." Draco said with panic in his voice.
"I'm bound Draco…I cannot leave unless he allows it." Narcissa said as she glanced towards Lucius' fallen form.
Draco's expression twisted with fury. "Father did this to you?" His voice was barely a whisper, filled with disbelief and anger.
Narcissa's sadness deepened. "He bound me to his will. I've been a prisoner here longer than you've known. But you—" her voice cracked as she stepped toward Draco, her hands trembling as she cupped his face. "You must go. Now, while I can still keep the wards open. I don't know how long I can hold them."
Tears welled in Draco's eyes, and his jaw clenched as he realized the magnitude of what she was sacrificing. "Mother—" His voice broke.
"I love you, my dragon," Narcissa whispered, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "Protect her. Protect yourself."
Draco's hands shook as he grasped River's and Hermione's hands. "I won't leave you behind," he said through gritted teeth.
Narcissa smiled weakly, brushing a tear from her cheek. "You have to. I will hold them off as long as I can." She closed her eyes for a moment, her fingers twitching as she began to concentrate.
The air around them grew heavy, crackling with magic. Narcissa's eyes snapped open, now blazing with a steely resolve. The walls of the Manor shuddered as her magic surged through the house. "I will open the wards just long enough for you to escape," she said, her voice more commanding now. "But once you leave, they will be sealed again. You won't be able to return."
Draco nodded, his lips trembling with emotion. He didn't want to leave her, but there was no choice. He turned to River and Hermione, both of them still shaken but ready.
Just as Narcissa began weaving the complex magic necessary to manipulate the wards, the front doors of the Manor burst open with a thunderous crash. Greyback, Rodolphus, and two Snatchers stormed into the hall, their eyes wild as they took in the scene.
Greyback snarled as he took in the scene before him and began to charge across the hall.
Draco tightened his grip on River and Hermione. "Mother, please!" He yelled in one last effort to get her to come as well.
Narcissa's eyes flared with concentration, and her wand shot out in front of her. A barrier of shimmering silver light erupted between them and the advancing Death Eaters, holding them at bay. Rodolphus slammed into the barrier, his face twisted in fury as he pounded his fists against it.
"Go!" Narcissa cried out, her voice strained as the effort of maintaining the ward visibly drained her. Narcissa's barrier flickered as Greyback and the Snatchers began to hurl curses at it, testing its strength. But Narcissa stood firm, her magic flaring brighter, the silver light rippling like a tidal wave. "GO!" she shouted again, her eyes locked on Draco's once more.
Just as they began to disapperate, the shimmering barrier flickered once more—and then collapsed, leaving Narcissa exposed. Greyback roared in triumph, lunging forward with his claws bared, but Narcissa stood tall, her gaze unflinching.
"I love you," Narcissa whispered, as her voice was swallowed into the swirling void that shot them away from Malfoy Manor, leaving her inside the prison she had never been able to escape.
River's POV
We land in a heap of bodies and limbs, each struggling to right ourselves. There are no words exchanged, but we each seem to grasp at each other, if only to confirm we haven't splinched ourselves. As the silence of the woods we have landed settles in around us, it is then that we each seem to let go of the emotions we had held at bay.
Draco pitches forward first, coughing violently, his body wracked with dry heaves as his hands clutch the dirt beneath him. Hermione stares down at the still-bleeding gashes on her arm, her hands trembling uncontrollably as the memories of Bellatrix's torture flash in her wide, tear-filled eyes. Her breaths come in shallow gasps.
I feel my own tears spill silently down my cheeks, the release coming in waves as my body finally succumbs to the weight of everything—the violence, the lies, the fear I had buried deep inside while I played my part at the Manor.
"She…he…I'll kill him." Draco says as he finally manages to stop dry heaving. Rage flashes in his eyes, but it's laced with something else—grief, and the unbearable weight of betrayal.
I shuffle closer to Draco and lay a hand on his back, trying to comfort him as much as possible. His walls lay in splinters around me, and I feel his pain, his anger, and his desire for revenge swimming around my head.
"You…both… thank you." Hermione whispers, her voice cracking. She crawls toward me and suddenly throws her arms around me, her grip tight and desperate, as if holding on will ground her in this unfamiliar place of safety.
Nothing else is said for the next few minutes. We just sit, in this silent wood, listening to our breathing begin to ebb and flow back into a normal rhythm.
Hermione is finally the one to break the silence as she looks around. "Where did you appareate us?"
"I'm…not entirely sure." Draco says as he also looks around, amazed that he was able to get them away and not splinch them.
"Where did they take you from? What about…" I don't get the chance to finish before Hermione jumps in.
"We were in the Forest of Dean. They found us, but I managed to disillusion Harry and Ron in time."
"Did you have a plan…if you were separated?" I ask hopefully. Hermione always forced them to have a plan, I doubt they had stayed alive these past few months without her.
"We had drop points, where Gin and Luna would leave things." Hermione explains. "A schedule we memorized so we had a place to go in case this happened."
"Where is the next one?" Draco asks as he stands up and brushes the dirt and forest grime from his clothes.
Hermione studies Draco for a moment, her mind clearly trying to decide if she can trust him. "How do I know you won't just call the Death Eaters to come there?"
I roll my eyes, picking up on Draco's annoyance at the question as well. "We didn't just risk our lives for you for nothing, Granger." He spits out.
"But…" Hermione tries to continue.
I step between them, feeling the weight of the distrust hanging in the air. Hermione, always cautious, and Draco, always guarded. They don't see it yet, but we're on the same side now. "We've been tortured in that house far longer than…" the words die in my throat and I fight to get the next ones out. "You know me, Hermione. Please…" I say as I hold out my hand to her.
Hermione stares at my outstretched hand, her gaze flickering between me and Draco. For a moment, the forest holds its breath, the tension thick between us. Finally, with a shaky exhale, she reaches out, gripping my hand as if it's her last lifeline. Her mind is made up. "Shell Cottage. Luna would have been arriving there a day or so ago. The plan was to never stay more than a day or two at a known Order location, before we left."
"So they may not still be there." I say as I stand up and pull Hermione up to her feet as well.
"Only shot we got." Draco says as he comes over and takes my other hand. Draco's hand shakes as he laces his fingers with mine, his grip tighter than before, as if he's holding onto more than just me—his own crumbling sense of self. I can feel it in the way his body trembles, the unspoken desperation in his touch.
"Are you okay to apparate us?" I ask Hermione gently.
She shrugs. "Only shot we got."
With a swirl, swish, and a twist, we feel our bodies once again hurtling through the expanse. This time our landing is softer, and we manage to steady our feet in the sand. In the distance, we see a shimmering field, slightly obscuring an old weathered house sitting on the edge of the dunes.
"We will have triggered the wards." Hermione says as she starts to walk towards the cottage.
As we trudge closer to the building, three figures appear from the doorway, two with wands drawn, but another one breaks into a sprint when they see us.
"Mione!" Harry yells as he races faster to get to us.
Hermione is now sprinting towards him, meeting him halfway before they both stop short.
"What's the song we danced to, in the tent?" Harry asks her cautiously.
"O Children." She says and once again Harry is moving towards her. "I'm sorry…I'm so sorry… I didn't…" Hermione says as he tries in vain to hold back her own tears." Harry doesn't give her any more room to protest as he kisses her desperately.
I have to work to steady myself as their emotions wash over me. Draco once again takes my hand, lacing our fingers together, being the rock in the storm for me to anchor to.
"Hold it!" Ron commands, his voice steady but laced with tension, his wand aimed directly at Draco and myself. Bill is just behind him, his own wand raised, though his eyes are darting between Hermione and us.
Harry holds Hermione tightly as she buries her face in his shoulder, but his eyes flick toward me and Draco, wary and sharp.
"Hermione, can you vouch that it's them? This isn't a trick?" Ron asks carefully.
"It's them." Hermione responds as she pulls back from Harry and holds her hand out to me. "They helped me escape. I wouldn't be here without them," Hermione says, her voice still thick with emotion, but firm.
"That doesn't explain why Malfoy is here." Ron's eyes move between Draco and me. Isn't he one of them?
Draco straightens his posture next to me and his hand grips mine tighter. His face is guarded, his usual sneer gone, replaced by a look of weariness. "We got out, Weasley. That's all you need to know for now."
I squeeze Draco's hand gently, feeling his frustration, his fatigue. His anger pulses beneath the surface, but I can sense something else—his need for this moment not to explode into conflict. I step forward slightly, my gaze meeting Harry's questioning one.
"We were trapped in the same place as Hermione. We got her out, and we need a place to get our bearings." My voice is steady, though inside, I can feel my own emotions bubbling up—the tension, the exhaustion, the need for trust.
"Why should we trust you?" Bill asks, his voice hard like his younger brother. Could be a trap, they could call the Death Eaters here the minute we lower our guard.
Draco's jaw clenches, and I can feel the weight of everyone's gaze on us. He's used to being the enemy in these situations, but this time, he looks at Harry before answering. "You don't have to trust me. But what I said back at Hogwarts still stands, Potter. I'd raze everything in my path before I let anyone touch her."
The silence that follows is thick, but Hermione steps forward again, her eyes pleading with Harry and Ron. "They risked everything. Please, we just need to rest—then we'll figure everything out."
Harry glances at Ron, who hesitates for a moment longer before lowering his wand fully, Bill doing the same. You can stay for now," Bill says, his voice firm but less hostile.
Draco's grip tightens on my hand as I feel his tension begin to ebb. For a moment, we all just stand there, on the edge of relief but still surrounded by the weight of everything that has happened.
The group retreated into Shell cottage. Fleur wrapped her arms tightly around Hermione, holding her as though trying to shield her from the world. When she moved to embrace River, there was a brief moment of hesitation, but then Fleur pulled her close with the same tenderness, surprising River with the warmth of her touch.
No questions were asked as Fluer ushered everyone to sit and drink a cup of tea, before everyone got some rest. The tension around the small dining room was still palpable as Fleur tended to Hermione's wounds. Thankfully it would take some time to heal, but the cuts on her arm would not scar. If they had been any later, there is no telling what Bellatrix would have done.
After tea, Harry immediately whisked Hermione away to the room he was staying in to rest. Ron shuffled awkwardly near the doorway before making a hasty exit. The tension felt too thick for words, and he wasn't ready to deal with the conflicting emotions that knotted in his chest regarding the two new people in the cottage. Fluer was a gracious host, and transfigured the dining table into a double bed where Draco and River could stay. Draco muttered his thanks, and Bill and Fluer left them to get some rest.
Neither Draco or River slept, but both were too tired to discuss everything that had happened mere hours ago. As the moon reached its zenith in the sky, the both slipped from the bed, and moved quietly to go sit on the sand dunes outside the small cottage. The sound of the waves lapping at the shore was the only noise that broke the stillness. Sitting side by side in the cool sand, Draco and River finally felt the weight of everything slowly lifting, even if just for a moment. The silence between them wasn't uncomfortable, but filled with the unspoken understanding that words could wait, and they both let their tears fall silently.
River's POV
Floating… like an object in space… watching from above. It's disjointed, fragments, flashes. Things that were, things that could be, things that never should be. All the little deaths I ran from… the dreams and nightmares that they wanted me to see for them. They were never dreams though, just my mind running through the calculations… coming up with outcomes.
Except now, it's the outcome for this world… this war… that I see painted out in front of me.
Swords, snakes, Hogwarts in ruins, blood, the smell of death… it all swirls in front of me, and the only salient thing I see is myself, standing in front of the Dark Lord…alone.
As my consciousness slams back into my body, I bolt upright from the bed I was in. I don't remember falling asleep, or even getting back to the bed when Draco and I had been sitting outside.
I'm alone, but I hear their minds coming from the sitting room. They say everything and nothing, hiding the true emotions in their minds…accusatory, suspicion, disbelief, distrust. A powder keg with a short fuse. This needs to be dealt with before it explodes.
Are they really here to help?... Pointy faced git…Snakes, both of them…How do we know?... What did we do? Why did we leave her?
My head aches as I drag myself from the bed and to the sitting room where everyone is. Each step I can feel the pressure getting worse, but I can't let myself think about that now. As I enter, the silence of the room is suffocating. Harry's gaze was sharp, Hermione's apprehensive, and Ron's hands were clenched, as if holding back a tidal wave of resentment. Draco leaned back against the wall, his expression closed off, as if preparing for a confrontation.
I took a steadying breath. "I can feel it, you know. All of you. Your thoughts are like… snapped bow strings in my brain."
Harry's gaze falls to me, worry etched in his features. "River, I know you weren't in your right mind when… everything happened at Hogwarts. But…"
"You're worried it would happen again." I answer for him.
Harry's expression shifted, torn between worry and regret. "It's not just that, River. It's… everything we've been through, everything we're facing. It's hard to separate it all out." He glanced at Draco, distrust still lingering in his eyes. "We're in a situation where one misstep could get us all killed."
Draco looked back at him with a steady gaze, but his voice was uncharacteristically soft. "And you think we're the ones who'll make that misstep."
Ron huffed, crossing his arms. "Wouldn't be the first time."
I could feel the tension rising like a storm, sharp and crackling between us. "Stop," I said, louder than I'd intended. They all turned toward me, surprise flickering across their faces. "Look, I don't expect us to pretend we're all friends. But we're here for a reason—one that's bigger than our personal grudges." I say as I glance to Ron and then Harry.
Hermione's voice cut in, tentative but firm. "River's right. If we're going to win this war, we can't afford to be at war with each other."
Ron scowled but didn't respond, the words hanging heavily in the air.
Draco let out a breath, crossing his arms. "I know none of you trust me," he said, a flash of defiance in his eyes. "I'm not here for your forgiveness, but… we all just want to survive this."
Harry nodded, though his expression was unreadable, while Ron remained skeptical. "So what do you want us to do, Malfoy? Just accept that you've changed?"
Draco shrugged, though his voice held an edge. "I don't care what you believe. But if we're going to fight together, you'll have to at least trust that we aren't going to stab each other in the backs."
The silence thickened, each of us caught in the weight of the words. I could feel my pulse pounding, the intensity of their thoughts thrumming in my mind.
I took a step closer, speaking to all of them. "Just… give us the chance to prove that we're on the same side. Because if we keep tearing each other down, we'll lose this war before we even start fighting it."
Hermione looked at me, her eyes softened with a quiet understanding. "We don't have to understand each other completely, but we need to be willing to work together… to give each other the benefit of the doubt, even when it's hard."
Harry nodded, though he still held a guarded look. "Alright. I'll give you that. But remember Malfoy, one step out of line, and I'm not going to hesitate."
Draco gave a slight smirk, though there was no real mirth in it. "Wouldn't expect anything less, Potter."
Ron finally sighed, the fight seeming to drain out of him as he muttered, "Guess we're all in this mess together then."
I let out a heavy breath, some of the tension melting from my body as I do. "Can you catch us up on what you've all been up to please?"
As they started, it was like pulling teeth to get through years of mistrust and tension. When Draco and Ron began to get testy a few minutes in, Hermione was quick to suggest guidelines to try and limit interruptions or arguments. Draco and Ron had begrudgingly agreed. The conversation was somber as they covered the taboo, knowing that this particular piece of magic was more than dangerous—it had nearly been their undoing once already. They couldn't afford another slip-up, because if the Dark Lord discovered them now they knew it would be their death.
Afterward, they took turns sharing what they had been through. Harry recounted the trio's escape from Grimmauld Place, his voice softening when he spoke about leaving Sirius and Lupin behind. Ron, though still wary, nodded along, casting glances at Draco and River. He softened seeing the sadness River's eyes held hearing that the fate of the house and men that had been her family was unknown.
Hermione spoke next, talking about the last eight weeks on the run, how the constant moving from one empty patch of land to another wore down on them. Even with Luna and Ginny leaving supplies at secret locations, their close friendships had been tested over the eight weeks. Based on the two Dark Arts books Hermione had been able to grab from Grimmauld ahead of their escape, she mentioned how they believed that Tom Riddle's Diary had been a Horcrux, how Horcruxes were said to be hard to destroy, needing something incredibly powerful like fiendfyre. The locket that Harry and Dumbledore retrieved from the cave was likely a fake, as it had not responded to any of them the way the Diary had spoken to Harry in their second year.
When it came to River's turn, she spoke more haltingly, but with a rawness they had rarely seen from her. She talked about the weeks she spent with Bellatrix before Draco returned, how she was forced to endure "training sessions," which broke open her mental scars deeper than anything physical. Her duel with Greyback…the outcome of the Sectumsempra, and the Dark Lord's desire to mold her into a weapon. Ron's initial mistrust toward River began to thaw as he absorbed what the Slytherins had faced. This wasn't just Slytherin House rivalry anymore—this was a harsh reality that had shaped them all.
Draco added his own experience, though he stayed vague, perhaps out of caution, speaking in quiet tones about the pressures and terror he and his mother had faced to maintain the appearance of loyalty to the Dark Lord. Harry's face visibly paled when Draco spoke of his mother helping them to get them out of the Manor. It was something they both related to, a mother's sacrifice for her child.
But it wasn't until Ron discussed the Snatchers that the weight of their losses truly hit Draco. He had never met Ted Tonks, but Ron's voice shook as he recounted the fate of his cousin's father, and a somber stillness fell over the group. Draco, unused to the vulnerability he felt, finally acknowledged what he had been avoiding—the death toll was growing. In that moment, he saw the anguish in Hermione's eyes, the weight Harry and Ron carried.
While Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Draco had yet to forget everything from their adolescence, they finally understood that they weren't just his rivals; they were comrades bound by grief and haunted by their scars.
Once everything had been laid bare, they circled back to the two topics that held the most uncertainty and confusion. Dumbledore's will and the Horcruxes.
River's POV
Something wasn't adding up. We had spent hours pouring over Hermione's notes, the books she had taken from Grimmauld, recalling the slightest details about the Diary, Slughorn's memory, everything that Dumbledore had told Harry last year… my head and magic are spiraling in pain, like a carousel that's burning. I do my best to hide it from the others, but I feel it eating away underneath, just waiting for something to click into place and burn the place down.
"We're missing something," Harry muttered, pacing. His hair was wilder than usual, and his glasses sat slightly askew on his nose. "It's right in front of us. It has to be."
"Yes, well," Ron said, leaning heavily on his chair, "right in front of us isn't exactly useful when we've got no bloody idea what we're looking for."
Everything
Everything
Everything
Hermione, perched at the table with a furrowed brow and quill poised, didn't even look up. "We know the Horcruxes are objects that Voldemort imbued with pieces of his soul. They're significant to him. That's why the diary, the ring Dumbledore recovered, the locket—"
"But the locket is a fake." Ron interjected.
"This locket is a fake, but the real Locket of Salazar Slytherin is out there, somewhere." Hermione says as she picks up the small locket from in front of her.
"—and probably something from Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff. Man is bloody obsessed with Hogwarts." Draco added.
"That's what Dumbledore thought too." Harry confirmed.
"Which leaves four unaccounted for."
I mull everything over in my brain. Seven: Prime number. One walks into the house of seven and finds no pairs to divide, just solitude. Two's company, but seven keeps its own counsel—odd, indivisible, and steadfast. A bolt of pain shoots through my head and I wince, digging my nails into my palms to ground me.
In its right place
In its right place
In its right place
"But what about the items he left us? There's my Deluminator, Hermione's copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard, River's broken compass, and Harry…" Ron trailed off, his gaze flicking to Harry.
"The Snitch," Harry said, pulling it from his pocket. He turned it over in his hands, frowning at the faint etching on its surface, "I open at the close." Harry mumbles as his hands trace the words etched on it.
My attention drifted to the compass that was sitting in my lap. Something about it was important—I was sure of it—but all it did, no matter which way I moved, was to point to Harry. Draco, who had been leaning silently against the doorframe behind me, snorted.
"Still can't believe you nearly swallowed the thing," he said. "Though, knowing Potter, that's probably the kind of heroic idiocy that'll save the day."
"Shut up, Malfoy," Ron snapped, but Harry's head shot up.
"Wait," Harry said sharply, ignoring Ron. "Swallowed. The Snitch." His voice quickened with realization. "It remembers the touch of the first person who caught it—Dumbledore said that!"
Hermione's eyes widened. "Harry, do you think…"
Harry held the Snitch closer, staring at the inscription again. "I open at the close," he murmured, then glanced around the room. "How do I—?"
"Your lips," I said quietly, speaking for the first time in hours. My voice is strained as I try to manage my building pain, but clear. "You caught it with your mouth. That's probably what he meant."
Without hesitation, we all watch as Harry presses the Snitch to his lips. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, with a faint click, the Snitch split open, revealing a tiny red stone inside.
"The Philosopher's Stone," Hermione whispered in awe, her hand flying to her mouth.
Another shock of pain zings across my brain. "The what?" I ask, staring at it.
"It's from first year," Harry explains, his voice taut with disbelief. "The Sorcerer's Stone—it's real. Dumbledore must have had Flamel make another one, or…"
"But why give it to you now?" Draco asks, leaning forward, his earlier passivity replaced with cautious intrigue. "What could it possibly have to do with the Horcruxes?"
What, what is that you tried to say?
What, what was that you tried to say?
Hermione suddenly gasped, her face alight with realization. "The Deathly Hallows," she breathed. "Harry, the Stone—it's the Resurrection Stone."
"The what-now?" I ask, trying to take in everything they are saying while the pain in my head increases, sending little electrical sparks flying down my nerves.
Hermione didn't answer, scrambling for her copy of Beedle the Bard. Flipping through the pages, she found the tale of the three brothers and laid it on the table. "The Deathly Hallows—the Elder Wand, the Resurrection Stone, and the Invisibility Cloak. Together, they make the Master of Death."
Harry stared at her. "You think Dumbledore meant for us to find them?"
"You already have an invisibility Cloak, mate. Given to you in our first year." Ron reminds him. "And I've never heard of an invisibility cloak lasting as long as yours."
"It makes sense," Draco said, his voice firmer as he moves to inspect the book. "If the Stone is one of the Hallows, then the Wand…" Draco's expression darkened. "It's the one Voldemort's after."
A tense silence fell over the room as everyone took in his words. "What do you mean looking for?" Harry asks.
"He's had Lucius looking for things… moving things to and from vaults at Gringotts." I say thickly.
"Which vaults?"
"The Lestrange Vault. He and Bellatrix were inching towards a row last night at the fucked up family dinner they subjected us to." Draco says as he picks up the book and studies it further."
"But… if Dumbledore left us the Stone and the Cloak," Hermione murmured, her voice laced with doubt, "doesn't that mean he must have had the Wand?"
Tried to say
Tried to say
Tried to say
"That means Snape has it," Harry said bitterly. "He killed Dumbledore."
"Where is Snape now?" Draco asks.
Ron snorts. "Hogwarts, he and the Carrow's are being installed to run it next year."
But I feel it click, like a tumbler in a lock finally sliding into place as the pain becomes blinding. Snape couldn't have the Elder Wand. Because Snape may have killed Dumbledore, but no one knew… no one knew what I had done before…
"No," I whispered, my voice trembling as I fight through the pain. I feel them… their eyes, their minds. They all turned to look at me.
I stand slowly, my breath catching in my throat as I slide my hand into my pocket. As my fingers brush against the smooth wood inside, I feel it call to me… feel the rightness of what my brain thinks echoing in its touch. As I pull it out, I feel its weight, its pull… it's power.
"It's me," I said softly, the realization crashing over me like a tidal wave. "I have the Elder Wand."
The air in the room shifted, thick with disbelief and the weight of what I had just said.
"But that would mean…" Hermione's voice faltered, her eyes wide with dawning horror.
Everything clicked. The pain surged like wildfire. I felt their eyes on me, their thoughts—frantic, loud, overwhelming.
My fingers tightened around the wand as darkness claimed me, the burning carousel in my head spinning out of control.
Everything
Everything
Everything
Hermione screamed as River dropped to the floor, her body convulsing violently. The sound of her head striking the wood echoed through the cottage, sending everyone into motion. Harry scrambled to hold her still, while Draco knelt at her side, his face pale and tight with panic.
"Bill! Fleur!" Harry shouted, his voice cracking.
The couple rushed in, Bill instantly assessing the situation while Fleur took control, her calm but firm instructions cutting through the chaos.
"Do not touch her too much—let it pass," Fleur said sharply, kneeling beside River.
When the seizure subsided, they carefully moved her to the dining room bed. Fleur sat by her, her wand glowing faintly as she monitored River's breathing and pulse. "She needs rest," Fleur said softly. "Her brain, her magic—they are overwhelmed. It is not permanent."
As the day waned into night, a tense silence settled over the house. The revelation about the wand loomed like a dark cloud over everyone. Dumbledore's wand—River's wand. No one said it aloud, but the implications churned in every mind. Had Snape mastered it? Or had Dumbledore intended for River to hold it all along?
By ten o'clock, Harry, Hermione, and Ron retired to their rooms, their murmured goodnights heavy with worry. Fleur touched Draco's shoulder gently, offering to stay with River, but he shook his head. "I've got her," he said quietly.
Left alone, Draco sat in the chair beside River's bed, her hand limp in his. He traced the outline of her fingers with his thumb, his eyes never leaving her face. The moonlight filtering through the window painted her features in pale silver, and he exhaled shakily. "Come back," he whispered, so low it was barely audible. "I need you."
River's POV
"I need you."
The words echo in my brain as I slowly open my eyes. The moon shines through the window above me, the sound of the waves crashing in the distance outside of the cottage, and the even breaths from the sleeping form sitting next to the bed. I tighten my fingers gently holding mine in sleep and look over as Draco's head slowly lifts from where it had laid while he slept.
"Hi." I say quietly.
"Hey." He says, his voice still laced with sleep.
I feel a tear roll down my cheek. "I'm sorry."
Draco shakes his head. "You've always had a flair for the dramatics, nothing I don't expect."
I chuckle despite myself. I gently pull his arm towards me, while moving over in the bed. "Please." I say as he looks like he wants to protest.
Draco doesn't say anything else as he gets into the bed with me, his arms snaking around me and holding me close. I feel the tendrils of his frosty legilimency crawling around me. It's comforting…feeling it envelop me and cocoon my mind.
"Go back to sleep, River." He says as he gently kisses my temple. "I've got you."
The next time I wake up I am still wrapped in Draco's arms. The early morning light filters through the clouds on the horizon. I gently extricate myself from the warmth and creep to the cottage door. Closing it as quietly as I can, I walk to the nearest dune to sit.
I close my eyes and let the sea breeze dance along my skin leaving the slight sting of salt behind. The Albatross caw in the distance as they fly in the sky, and I think of how an albatross was meant to be a ship's good luck.
I hear the soft plodding of footsteps behind me, not turning to look, knowing who it would be. "I didn't kill him," I say quietly as Harry lowers himself to the sand beside me. "If you were going to ask."
Harry doesn't say anything for a few minutes, but his mind processes what I did say while waiting for me to continue when I am ready.
"I think…" My voice catches, and I clear my throat. "I think he knew what was coming. He and Snape… there was something unspoken between them. Like I was just a piece on a chessboard. Like it was all scripted, and I was just following the cues."
Harry finally speaks, his voice low. "Did he tell you anything before… it happened?"
I shake my head, watching the gulls swoop and dive above the waves. "No. But he seemed at peace with it. Like he'd made his decision long before that night."
Harry's jaw tightens, and I can see the storm of emotions he's trying to contain. "Do you think…" he starts, then hesitates. "Do you think Snape knows more than he's let on?"
I turn to look at him, studying the set of his jaw and the furrow of his brow. "You don't trust him," I say. It's not a question.
Harry lets out a bitter laugh. "How could I? He's been playing both sides his whole life. And now… now he's headmaster of Hogwarts. If he knows anything about Dumbledore's plans he hasn't exactly been forthcoming."
I pull my knees closer to my chest, the cool breeze biting at my skin. "Maybe that's why we need to talk to him."
Harry's head snaps toward me, his green eyes sharp. "Talk to Snape? Are you serious?"
"Yes," I say firmly. "He was closer to Dumbledore than anyone. If anyone knows the truth about the Wand, or what Dumbledore planned, it's him."
Harry shakes his head, his frustration bubbling to the surface. "And how do we even do that? Stroll into Hogwarts while he's surrounded by Death Eaters? Ask him nicely to explain Dumbledore's master plan?"
"We'll figure it out," I reply, my voice steady. "You're the one who said we're missing something. He might be the piece we need."
Harry exhales sharply, running a hand through his messy hair. "It's a risk. A big one."
I meet his gaze, unwavering. "I know. But if we don't take it, we'll always wonder if he could've given us the answers we need."
For a moment, he doesn't say anything. Then, with a reluctant sigh, he nods. "Alright. But we're not going in blind. We plan this carefully."
"Of course," I say, a small smile tugging at the corner of my mouth as I look up to the Albatross flying again. "We'll need all the luck we can get."
We sit together for another few minutes before Harry stands, brushing the sand from his trousers, and then offering me a hand. I take it and we walk back towards Shell Cottage. When we get inside, Draco, Hermione, and Bill are all drinking cups of tea in the sitting room.
This will not be an easy conversation, so I decide to rip the bandage off immediately. "We need to go to Hogwarts… to talk to Snape."
The room goes still, the soft clink of tea cups halting mid-motion as my words sink in. Hermione freezes, her cup halfway to her mouth, and Draco's eyes narrow dangerously. Bill's brow furrows, his protective instincts clearly on high alert.
Draco is the first to break the silence. "Are you out of your mind?" he snaps, setting his cup down with a sharp clatter. "Snape? The man who's working with the Carrows to turn Hogwarts into a Death Eater stronghold? What could he possibly say that's worth risking our necks?"
"He knows something," Harry interjects, stepping into the room beside me. His voice is steady but tense. "About Dumbledore. About the Elder Wand. About everything."
Hermione sets her cup down carefully, her expression guarded. "And what makes you think he'll tell us? Snape's spent his entire life keeping secrets."
"Because Dumbledore trusted him," I say, cutting through the building tension. "And for better or worse, Snape was part of whatever plan Dumbledore had. He knows more than he's let on."
Draco scoffs, leaning back in his chair. "Right up until the moment Snape killed him, you mean?"
"Exactly," Harry says sharply. "Which is why we need to figure out why. There's more to it than what happened that night. I'm sure of it."
Draco's jaw tightens, and for a moment, he looks like he's about to argue again. Then his expression changes, something sad flickering in his eyes as he looks at me. "If you want to talk to Snape," he says quietly, his tone measured, "I might know a way to get in."
The room goes even quieter, the air thick with tension.
"What are you talking about?" Hermione asks, her voice wary.
Draco leans forward, his elbows on his knees, and exhales slowly. "The Vanishing Cabinet," he says. "It's in the Room of Requirement. Pucey's task for the Dark Lord was to repair it."
Harry frowns. "Vanishing Cabinet? What does that have to do with us?"
Draco's gaze shifts to me, and I feel a knot tighten in my stomach. "The Cabinet connects to another one in Borgin and Burkes. It's how we…" He falters, looking away briefly. "It's how we planned to take River to the Dark Lord."
My mind begins to race through probabilities. "You're suggesting we use it to sneak into Hogwarts?"
Draco nods. "It's a direct path into the castle. No wards. We'll end up right in the Room of Requirement."
"And where will Pucey be?" Bill asks sharply, his tone protective.
Draco shakes his head. "Not sure, but he's done his part. The Cabinet's fully functional now. It's just sitting there, waiting to be used."
Hermione rubs her temples, clearly weighing the risk like me. "If the Cabinet works, it could get us in unseen," she says slowly. "But once we're inside, we're on our own."
"We always were." I say solemnly.
They would wait until evening, when the shadows were deepest, and it would be easiest to slip through Knockturn Alley unnoticed and navigate Hogwarts without needing a major distraction. The tension in Shell Cottage was palpable as the hours ticked by, every tick of the clock hammering home the risk they were about to take.
River and Draco would be going, a point that both Harry and Ron had argued vehemently against. Harry had wanted to go instead of Draco, but no one thought that was a good idea.
"Like handing the Dark Lord the Chosen One on a silver platter." Draco had rebuked Harry's protests.
Ron thought the entire plan was bloody madness and only Bill had made him see reason enough to begrudgingly accept that they had very few leads and needed the information that Snape likely had. Ron scowled, crossing his arms over his chest. "Fine," he muttered. "But if this goes sideways, I'm saying I told you so."
Despite Ron's reluctance and Harry's simmering frustration, the plan was finalized. River and Draco would use the Invisibility Cloak and the Vanishing Cabinet to enter Hogwarts undetected. Once inside, they would make their way to Snape and try to get the answers they needed.
AN: Hope you all enjoyed this chapter! Did the escape go how you thought it would? Let me know in a comment!