Having become used to Enola's company over a short period of time, Harry had been pitifully missing her. It was reasonable to expect that she had to maintain the pretence that she wasn't just sheltering Harry from the wrath of the Death Eaters. She had to convince them that she was making progress, that his demise was right around the corner. It didn't stop him from longing for her return, which he told himself was just because he had no one else to talk to.

Even Malfoy's visits had grown sparse, with Enola taking over the 'care' that Harry was privileged to receive. He got the sense that that was down to her own doing, as if she were trying to keep him to herself. Was he that much of a catch? Was she truly entertained by him as much as she claimed? Or was she simply worried that he'd let something slip in front of Malfoy that would give the game away? Any mistakes would surely prove fatal for them both.

The issue was that, after being captured, he'd only had his life to worry about. In that sense, it had been easier to accept what was happening, seeing as he'd always shown off self-sacrificial tendencies over the years. But now there was an element of controlling Enola's fate as well. It wasn't a matter of whether he liked her or not, or even trusted most of the words that escaped her mouth. She was a friend of Matthew's, or certainly had been at one stage, and therefore there was an obligation of care that Harry wasn't going to overlook.

"They're growing suspicious."

Those were the first words that Enola greeted him with upon her return, and she only spoke once she was sure the door was firmly closed. Harry tried to ignore just how much his face lit up at her presence, not wanting her to know how vital she was growing to be in his current, miserable existence. It would confirm that she held a level of power over him, if it wasn't already obvious, and Harry was under the impression that she was the sort of person who'd use that to her advantage.

Whether that would also be to his detriment was still to be seen.

"There's only so much stalling I can do before they expect to see results," Enola carried on, sidestepping the need for any pleasantries. "They want you dead, Harry, and soon. They really do hate you, don't they?"

It was strange that he could chuckle at such a remark. "And I haven't even done anything wrong."

"You dared to stand against them. Accidentally at first, but you've made it your mission ever since. It's no wonder that they find you so irritating."
"Voldemort has tried to kill me multiple times, and you're just the latest obstacle in his path. I'm worried that he'll take his frustrations out on you."

"He wouldn't dare."

"He doesn't exactly play by the rules. You might think you've got some sway over him, but that only lasts for as long as you're useful to him. If you're seen to be failing at this, then you automatically become dispensable. That's the sort of man you've attached yourself to."

"I know precisely what sort of man he is. I don't need your opinion as well."

"And you're still working under his banner…"

She sighed heavily. "We're not having this debate again."

"Because you don't have a foot to stand on."

Enola had been lingering by the far wall following her entry, but his words seemed to incite something within her. She was storming towards him before he knew what was happening, and he found himself pushing his back as far against the wall as it would go out of fear. She practically crackled with energy and it was alarming to see just how quickly she could flip her persona. It was yet another reminder that he didn't know who she was, not at heart.

"How about I just tell Voldemort now that my experiments have proved unsuccessful?" she asked heatedly. "How about I tell him that there's no point waiting anymore? I'll stand aside and watch him strike you down. Is that what you want? Is that why you're provoking me? I'm the only reason why you're still alive, so you should be showing a lot more gratitude as far as I'm concerned."

Harry wasn't going to back down, even if she was in the stronger position physically. "Funnily enough, I'm finding it difficult to be grateful for anything right now. You'd struggle just as much if you'd been chained up for…I don't even know how much time has passed. You could have easily gotten me out of these, so don't pretend to be some sort of saviour. I want to see the best in you, but I'm starting to realise that that's my fault. I'm setting too high a standard. I shouldn't be upset that you're not meeting them."

She laughed harshly. "You might just be the most frustrating person I've ever come across."

"Hey, at least that means you're beginning to understand how Voldemort feels."

In a show of power that was obviously designed to intimidate him, Enola's wand formed in her hand in a flurry of brilliant light. Harry had seen Matthew do it on countless occasions, which meant he was able to school his reaction. He might have been worried about what she was going to do, but he was going to be damn sure that his face didn't give that away. There was an almost manic glint in Enola's eyes, but he met her gaze with a steely resilience.

"You're not in a position to challenge me, Harry."

"I'm only saying stuff. If that's cutting deep, then that should prove that I'm right about this."

"I could do Voldemort's job for him. I wouldn't even break a sweat."

He raised his chin in defiance. "Then do it. Show me who you really are."

The few seconds that ticked by following Harry's ultimatum were tense to say the least and he was sure that Enola was going to snap, if she hadn't done so already. Her hair was practically standing on edge, the power sweeping through her and transforming her into an intimidating figure. Her hand shook through the sheer might of her annoyance and all it would have taken was one flick and Harry wouldn't have needed to worry about Voldemort ever again. It was ironic that he'd been praying for that for years, only for it to come about in the most unwanted of ways.

Only, after those seconds passed, her hand lowered. Enola looked particularly frustrated with herself, as if she'd failed to meet her standards, as if she knew she should have followed through with her threat to maintain her position of authority. Or maybe she was frustrated for giving into her anger in the first place, proving to Harry what lay beneath the surface. As it was, the prisoner let out a weary sigh of relief, realising that he'd almost pushed his luck too much this time around.

Her next actions happened quickly. Silently berating herself, Enola shouted out and sent a fizzing spell in his direction. It connected with the wall just beside Harry's head, leaving the stonework scorched and bruised. He looked at the mark warily, practically hearing it sizzle as a result of the power she'd unleashed. Frankly, he was more glad than ever that he hadn't faced the brunt of the force, though it had been a remarkably close call. His breathing, thanks to the adrenaline spiking through his body, was just as heavy as her own.

"Did you…mean to miss?" he risked asking, potentially firing Enola up again.

"Yes!" she snapped. "Although I'm regretting that choice now."

"Because I keep opening my mouth?"

"Exactly."

"I wouldn't be surprised if people heard that commotion."

"They'll just think that I've taken to torturing you, which they'll obviously be in favour of. I'm starting to agree with them. You're so…so…"

"...frustrating to deal with?"

"Different. You're different to everyone else I've had to deal with."

"I don't know whether that's a compliment or not."

"I'm trying to figure that out for myself."

"I think…I think it's been a very long time since you had to interact with someone your age, and that's had an understandable impact."

She sighed and her body slowly started to relax at last. "Being with this group doesn't exactly provide a lot of opportunities for friendship."

"And then you were ripped from your home. You flew into the future and now everything is different, not just me. It's okay to be unsure about where you stand now. It's okay to be scared."

"I'm not scared," she argued quickly.

"It's also okay if you don't want to admit it."

"When you said I was ripped from my home…that's not entirely accurate. That's what happened to Matthew. In the end, he had no choice but to flee, or so his family believed. I've come here of my own volition."

"Why?"

"I…felt responsible for what happened to him. And I hated not knowing for sure what fate awaited him. I never got the closure of a goodbye. I suppose I never will now."

"You could return home, right? If Matthew isn't here, there's nothing to keep you around."

"You're right, although I doubt there's much left for me in my own time. I've experienced what the world is set to grow into. Our community was so small…and there were hardly any people my age besides Matthew, which further proves your earlier point."

"Well…there's always another option."

"Which is?"

"Come back with me. If we manage to escape, I can take you to Hogwarts. The castle was a home for me when I didn't have one, so it can surely be the same for you."

"It sounds idyllic," she said softly.

"Then just say yes," he pleaded.

"We're not going to get out of here, Harry. You're not going to escape."

"Says who?"

"Voldemort. I told you that his patience has run out. I…I'm not sure you'll survive to see the next sunrise."

xxxxxxxxxx

If you had to pick the perfect location for an evil plot, then the manor house certainly fit the bill. The residential home of the Malfoys was a grand affair, which one could have imagined without seeing it based on how that particular family carried itself. But, amidst all its majesty, there was a darkness that permeated through the walls and radiated out into the surrounding countryside. It was imposing and unwelcoming, as if no happiness or love had crossed its hallways for centuries.

Hermione shivered at the sight of it, though that might have been a residual impact of the stress she'd been put through inside the Tardis. Her body still felt weak and she was largely operating on adrenaline, but the fact that she remained standing was a testament to her character and inherent stubbornness. There had been plenty of people who'd told her to stay behind, largely Sirius, but their instructions fell upon deaf ears. And if they'd pushed the point further than she appreciated, she would have sent an exceedingly nasty hex in their general direction.

Harry was there. He was inside that dreadful building and there was no power on the planet that would have been able to prevent her from being there too. There was no part of her that considered that the Tardis had got things wrong, that its weary state had led to it incorrectly locating Harry. She had faith in its abilities. She had faith in her abilities, seeing as she'd been the one to kick into gear for a final time. Which meant Harry was there, closer than ever, a tangible prospect at last having missed him for so long. She'd tear down those walls herself if so required.

The only issue was that it wasn't the walls they needed to worry about. Bricks and mortar could be dealt with thanks to a well placed Bombarda Maxima.

No, the wards were a bigger problem.

"They're heavy duty alright," Moody remarked, stepping away from the boundary.

The perimeter of the property, as it turned out, was surrounded by a field of magic energy. No one had been brave enough to cross it so far whilst they considered their options. Whilst it wasn't visible from afar, the wards would flare into existence whenever someone got too close. A warning with a simple message: back off. They didn't know whether crossing the boundary would bring about fatal consequences, or just alert the owners of their presence. No member of their party was willing to risk it until they had a clearer picture.

Hermione, instead, wanted more forceful action. Ever since Dumbledore had announced that Malfoy Manor was the site of Harry's capture, it had felt right. Because of course that family would give everything they had to the Dark Lord. It meant that, now, they were standing less than a mile from the property, hidden by the towering trees that decorated the surrounding area. The forest provided the perfect cover as darkness settled upon them. And they were so close, adding to Hermione's frustrations towards the ensuing delay.

"These aren't the typical wards you'd find at a manor like this," Moody continued. "Even one owned by the Malfoys."

"I wouldn't be surprised that Lord Voldemort has added his defences into the mix," Dumbledore hypothesised. "His presence here would greatly increase the need for security."

"Yeah, well, I'm not too fussed as to why the wards are so strong, but how we actually get past them. These are just as powerful as the ones surrounding Hogwarts, and you'd know better than most just how pesky they are."

"But they can be subverted," Sirius pointed out. "I'm proof enough of that principle. I was able to get in and out of Hogwarts undetected when I had those infernal dementors on my tail."

"Alas, the school grounds are infinitely larger than what the Malfoys possess," Dumbledore countered. "These wards are in a more concentrated area, meaning their strength will be even more potent, I'm afraid."

Sirius folded his arms. "I was trying to find a positive way of thinking amidst all this."

"There is one positive. The presence of these defences firmly suggests that Voldemort is here, that we've got the right place."

"It's a slim silver lining."

"But something to build upon nonetheless."

The group they'd assembled to tackle this gargantuan task was an eclectic bunch to put it mildly. Sirius and Dumbledore obviously led the charge, having been involved in the initial tracking process. And Moody was never one to miss out on a potential fight. Other members of the Order had joined their side as well. The likes of Lupin, Tonks and Shacklebolt were lurking amidst the trees, helping the search for another point of entry. Even Snape had joined their number, though he largely hovered off to one side, waiting to be called upon.

Some of the group had remained at Hogwarts. McGonagall was acting in her role as deputy for Dumbledore, knowing that such a large attack had the potential to backfire. Their involvement had the potential of leaving Hogwarts vulnerable to a counter insurgence, and so the old Scot had stayed behind. And, as much as Hagrid wanted to tear apart the people responsible for Harry's capture, his limited magical ability meant he'd just prove to be a liability more than anything.

They weren't acting on their own, however. This wasn't the behaviour of a vigilante group, acting outside the law in the name of one of their own. The Ministry had brought along a heavy contingent of aurors, all trained for such a situation and professionals who'd bring a much needed injection of fire power. They were led by Amelia Bones, a woman who was one of Hermione's inspirations, and Rufus Scrimgeour, a rather sour looking man who'd built up a reputation for tackling dark wizards with a ruthless fury.

They were most definitely going to need that tonight.

If they found a way to get past the damned wards.

"We can't wait here forever," Moody complained. "Before long, they'll notice that there's a giant party of wizards loitering on their lawn. I'm surprised they don't have a patrol walking along the perimeter."

"We're led to believe that the number of Death Eaters inside the property is relatively small," Dumbledore replied calmly. "Hence the lack of any discernible patrol that we can see."

"Yeah, and how did you come to get that information?"

"You know that I can't disclose my sources, Alastor."

Hermione would have liked to have known more about that as well. Did they have a source on the inside? Did they know more than they were letting on? She doubted that, seeing as they'd been so reliant on the Tardis to make the initial connection, but it seemed to confirm that she wasn't completely in the loop. They were using her age as a factor against her, pushing her to one side both physically and figuratively. And her patience was wearing thin.

"Well, if you think a smaller number is going to help you take the manor, you're in for a rude awakening. The Dark Lord might have kept his current party to just close friends but, as soon as he's put in danger, he'll be calling for reinforcements. This place will be crawling with reinforcements as soon as we make ourselves known."

"The idea is to be more subtle than that."

"But you haven't even got an idea! There's a big difference between being subtle and being ineffective, and I'm worried which side you're teetering towards, Albus."

"Is there any way for us to break through the wards without them knowing?" Sirius asked. "Perhaps creating a hole in a small section, instead of trying to collapse the entire thing."

"It'd be difficult, but not impossible," Dumbledore said. "The magic involved is infinitely intricate and would, therefore, take a considerable amount of time."

Moody harrumphed so loudly that it was a miracle that the Death Eaters didn't hear him. "Time we probably don't have. The longer we hesitate, the more chance there is of us being spotted. And, if that happens, they'll kill Potter straight away. They'll make sure that our plans fail before we can knock on the door."

The desperate situation was growing to be too much for Hermione. The more she heard them speak, the less confident she became that they were going to succeed. She'd been instilled with such hope that she hadn't thought about failure. Was it really possible for them to stumble with the finishing line in sight? Or were they just trying to temper her expectations? Hermione was under the impression that they'd completely forgotten about her presence, in truth.

She was more than happy to oblige in that regard and she extricated herself from the vicinity. As good as the trees were as cover, they were even better at supporting her weight. The tree she found was perhaps the only thing keeping her upright, her anguish combining with the effects of her earlier magical exhaustion. The one thing she refused to do was cry. There were so many people around that she would be quickly spotted, would be seen as a weak link, would have her reputation forever tainted.

There was one piece of comfort she'd learnt to cling onto over the recent months, and that came in the form of the key to the Tardis. As always, the string it was attached to was wrapped around her neck and she tugged on the crude necklace to bring it out. How many evenings had she spent staring at the key, the object linking her to the boy she'd lost? It had been a way of communicating with him when he wasn't there, a cheap imitation but the only alternative she had.

"Oh, I wish you were here," Hermione said with a sniff. "You'd know what to do. You'd come up with a clever plan and then brag about how smart you are. And you'd stop at nothing to save Harry. I…I'm worried that I've done as much as I can, and that's still going to come up short. I really wish you were here. I need you."

But that wasn't going to happen. Because all she was doing was standing in a dark forest, on her own, whilst various adults prepared for a potential fight to the death. She was cruelly on her own, no matter how many people were nearby. At least the others were doing something, or trying to, whilst she simply clung onto a key that wasn't going to start speaking to her anytime soon. A key that grew warm in her hand and glowed magnificently, cutting through the darkness.

Hermione didn't notice that at first. No, the initial thing she picked up on was the steady breeze that swept through the trees. It wasn't anything remarkable to begin with, nothing worthy of note. But then the wind grew stronger and some members of the group started to take interest, unnerved by the sudden change in conditions. The wind continued to grow stronger and stronger, until those same people were having to use the trees for protection, trees that were protesting just as much at the inexplicable maelstrom.

"Merlin's beard!" Moody cried, holding onto the closest trunk he could find. "We're under attack! They've spotted us!"

"Where is it coming from?" Sirius shouted, stumbling to the ground and being helped back up by an equally struggling Lupin.

If the Death Eaters hadn't known that something was amiss beforehand, then the violent shift in the weather would surely have made them look up. The winds were joined by bolts of lightning, crashing to the Earth and sending a fair few aurors diving for extra cover. Hermione tried to make sense of it all, certain that the lightning hadn't come from the sky, but a faint blue light that seemed to be appearing slowly just ahead of her.

Was it the trees that were groaning or was it something else entirely? The light came more into focus, solidifying, the first sign that something was forming amidst the chaos. Hermione would have been drawn towards it if she hadn't been fearful for her life, with the wild forces still at play. But then the light, hanging several feet in the air, made it known that it wasn't hovering at all. It was attached to a larger object, which was attempting to break through, attempting to land with all too recognisable sounds of complaint.

The outline formed just as Hermione realised what was going on. Surely it was just a mirage. Surely there was no way for the Tardis to be responding to her call. She'd seen what state it was in. She knew it wasn't up for flight. Perhaps that was why it seemed to be struggling so much, taking so long to incorporate its fully physical form. But it was trying all the same, making steady progress, drawing upon the wild forces in play as if they were dragging it back to reality.

And, as it became more solid, the wind died down and the lightning stopped, the calmness allowing her to approach the ship. Had she done this? Was her magic now linked to the Tardis so much that she could beckon it at will? Had she always been capable of this without knowing so, or was it a recent development thanks to her earlier entanglement? All she knew for sure that the box was there, her hand resting on the surface.

Only for the door to open on its own.

Only for an impossible boy to be standing in front of Hermione.

Matthew's expression was caught between a frown and a smirk. "You called?"