Disclaimer: Not mine, as if you lived under a rock and thought it was.
PART I: The End of the Beginning
Chapter Four: The Burning of Hogsmeade
Harry, Hermione, and Ron walked with purposeful stride toward the Headmistress's office. As they walked, Harry absently fingered the Eagleflight brooch that Hermione had returned to him. It was odd, but he rather missed the tarnished, inelegant version of the jewelry, the one that he thought was a small connection to his grandmother, albeit a false one.
"I guess I should…turn this in or something, shouldn't I?" He mumbled, turning the bauble over in his hands.
"It was in your house, Harry," Ron said, shrugging.
"But who knows who Voldemort stole it from?" Harry replied glumly. He shoved it back in his pocket, feeling strangely discontented, knowing that the brooch did not actually belong to him or his family.
They arrived at the gargoyle, which was in its now-customary place to one side, and mounted the stairs. Hermione knocked decisively, and heard the Headmistress's obliging "Come."
Professor McGonagall was seated at her desk, writing in what looked to be a gigantic ledger. She arched her eyebrows in surprise when she saw the three of them.
"What can I do for you?" she asked politely.
"Please…Professor McGonagall…" Harry said, sounding a little hesitant. "We'd like to have a look at Gryffindor's sword."
"Certainly, Mr. Potter," the Headmistress said smoothly. "You do know," she began, hazarding a guess as to why they were there, "that it has never left Hogwart's grounds, since Godric Gryffindor himself left it to the school after his death."
Ron flashed Hermione a triumphant look, and hissed, "See!" Hermione looked irritated, but would not be baited into speaking out in front of their old Head of House. McGonagall made her way over to the glass display case in which Gryffindor's sword hung, and tapped it with her wand, muttering an incantation. The case sparkled gold, and disappeared.
"Take all the time you need," she said generously. "I'll leave you to it." And she was out the door without another word.
"I told you it had never been out of here," Ron said triumphantly, as soon as McGonagall had gone.
"I never said it had been out of Hogwart's!" Hermione explained patiently, an undercurrent of annoyance unmistakable in her tone. "I said it had been out of this office." Ron glanced at her for a moment, realizing that she was right, and looked crestfallen.
Meanwhile, Harry had ventured up to the case, and was examining the sword closely, running his fingers down the shiny lettering on the blade. The hilt was exquisitely wrought, obviously molded and carved by a master, and the inset rubies flared with deep fire. After a moment of hesitation, he reached up and lifted the sword down, feeling the heft of it in his hand. He held it on both sides of the pommel to be more thoroughly able to examine the hilt.
"How many rubies are there?" Hermione asked, coming closer.
"Six," Harry said shortly. "But it looks like there should be one…back here." He turned the sword, and there was an unmistakable depression.
"Was there supposed to be one there at all?" Ron asked, looking curiously where Harry indicated. "Would that make the sword…I don't know, sort of knobbly to hold?"
"Did you notice anything when you held it, Harry? In the Chamber?" Hermione asked. Harry gripped the sword properly, and held it in a defensive stance, as he had when fighting the basilisk. He shook his head.
"I'm not sure," he replied, with some frustration. "But my palm fits right into the dip though. If there had been a ruby there last time, I think I would have known."
"But if there was another ruby, it would make seven. Wouldn't the artisan creating this want the highest magical resonance possible? There's got to be one missing," Hermione said. "I just know it."
"So maybe it's never been put back," Ron mused. The other two turned to look at him. "Like Harry said," the redhead continued, obviously thinking aloud, "Tom stole the ruby at some point during his seventh year, when he was Head Boy. Took it from the back and everything, so nobody even noticed. And when he went back and met with Dumbledore, to ask for the Defense job - "
" - he was looking for the chance to replace the ruby after he'd made it into a…" Hermione breathed, having figured out where Ron was going, but trailed off before she said the incriminating word.
"Where in the world would he have hidden it then?" Harry said. "We may know what it is, but a ruby that size could be hidden anywhere."
"Maybe he had another place in mind…like the snake being his backup plan," Ron ventured. "What other places did Gryffindor live? Maybe he put it there." He managed to inject his voice with a hopeful note, but all three of them looked more than a little dejected. If one counted Hermione's brainwave about Ravenclaw's brooch, that made two failed attempts to find and get rid of the final horcrux.
They stood in silence for a moment. Hermione finally said, "Well, let's go back up to the common room. We can do some more reading before supper." Harry replaced the sword on its hook, and the display case shimmered back into view around it. From the front, the sword appeared in as pristine condition as it always had.
"Yeah, let's go," Harry said, jerking his chin toward the door and sounding somewhat chagrined.
"Am I going to have to ask you the same thing I asked Minerva, Harry?" came a familiar old voice that sent Harry's heart into his throat. He stood motionless for a moment, his spine rigid, still facing the door. Hermione's hand reached out and gripped his forearm, quietly directing him to turn. He did, and unwillingly lifted his eyes to Dumbledore's portrait.
"Professor," Harry said in a ragged voice, after swallowing with difficulty. Dumbledore's eyes seemed to shine as they always did, even from the limited abilities of oil and brush.
"It is good to see all three of you, alive and well," Dumbledore said, quite sincerely. "And doing quite well on your quest, apparently. You needn't be afraid to speak freely in here. No headmaster of Hogwart's would betray you."
"D'you think we're right then?" Harry asked, straining to keep his voice sounding normal. "About the - ?" he nodded at the case.
"Quite a brilliant thought, actually," the former Headmaster agreed. "Much more subtle than using the entire sword, and much more subtle than I would have given Tom credit for. I knew Tom had reasons for requesting the position of Dark Arts teacher. However, I did think that his motivations were more far-reaching than merely wanting to gain entrance to my office."
"We - we don't know where to look next, sir," Harry said, his tone hopeful. Dumbledore shook his head regretfully.
"You've done more in your quest than I could have ever hoped to, Harry, and, as always, you seem to exceed my expectations. But I'm afraid I know no more than what we discussed last year." Harry shoulders slumped then, and Ron clapped him on the back lightly.
"Sir?" Hermione asked, and Dumbledore turned to look at her. "When we were here last, you were asleep…"
"Yes. I believe I told Harry once that death was the next great adventure. As such, it takes rest and preparation before one begins. And in sleep, there are answers. You should ask them, if you can."
Hermione, Harry, and Ron exchanged somewhat bewildered glances. Dumbledore was nodding, speaking apparently to himself. "Ask… who, sir?" Hermione queried, once it was clear that Harry and Ron were not going to ask.
"Yes, answers…those that sleep…." And before they could question him or comment further, Dumbledore's snowy chin had tilted forward onto his chest, and he was asleep.
"He's just as barmy as he was when he was alive," Ron said ruefully, and recoiled when Hermione hit him in the arm, hissing something about respect and the headmaster and Harry.
Harry hung back at the doorway, as the other two proceeded ahead of him. He turned back, looking at the large portrait of his headmaster, slumbering.
"Enjoy your adventure, Professor," he said quietly.
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It was a dejected trio that made its way down to dinner that night. They had spent the remainder of the afternoon poring over obscure old texts to no avail. On Hermione's suggestion, they had returned to the library to gather more books, this time concentrating only on Godric Gryffindor. They had spent the last hour or two making note of any place name mentioned in conjunction with the Founder that seemed significant. Harry thought privately that they had pitifully little to show for their research thus far.
Their conversation over their meal was stilted and nearly non-existent, as they felt uncertain as to what could and could not be discussed.
"Research going badly, eh?" Ginny remarked, a little stiffly, as she sat down near them, avoiding Harry's eyes studiously. Ron sighed and Harry shrugged, by way of response.
"We've sort of hit a dead end," Hermione said, sounding like Luna Lovegood at her vaguest. They sat in silence again, listening to the ripple of conversation around them, which seemed to sound hollow and cavernous, quiet in the too-big Great Hall. Harry looked around him despondently. He wanted to see the four House tables again. He wanted to see the Hall filled with students, even the Slytherins. And suddenly he felt a fierce rush of anger toward Voldemort, righteous indignation at what had been wrongfully and unfairly incurred, at the countless lives that had been changed or warped or lost. You have no right, he thought vehemently, and I'm going to see you stopped.
The double doors leading into the Great Hall opened to admit unexpected visitors for the second time that day. They were not opened hastily or noisily, but still managed to attract the attention of most of the admittedly smaller student body. A murmur began to swell in the Hall, when they saw that it was former Professor Lupin and Auror Nymphadora Tonks. Harry saw Remus searching the student tables with roving eyes, and stood to his feet, waving slightly to catch the attention of his father's old friend.
"Everything's always about you, isn't it?" Ron snickered, much to Hermione's disapproval. Harry shrugged casually, but looked grim.
"I'm playing the odds." And those odds were on that anything out of the ordinary occurring at Hogwart's - if he was present, and sometimes, even if he wasn't - had something to do with him.
He met Lupin and Tonks near the top of the right side of the U, and Professor McGonagall joined them from the staff table, accompanied by the new Deputy Headmaster, Professor Flitwick. Ron and Hermione had swung their legs away from the table, like they were at the point of standing, but had not actually risen from the table. They were watching the group anxiously.
"We came as quickly as we could," Lupin said, managing to speak calmly, even though there was an unmistakable manner of urgency about him. "We figured you'd want to know."
"What's going on?" Harry asked grimly.
"Malfoy's escaped - " Lupin began, but Tonks made an angry noise, and he amended his statement. "Well, he's been let go really. He - "
"Let go?" Harry said, speaking more loudly than he meant to. "Why in the name of the Four Founders would anyone at the Ministry authorize his release after what he did - after - " The fury that Harry now felt swelled up inside him, eclipsing his ability to verbalize anything coherent, and he stumbled to a stop. Harry had masked his ire toward Malfoy well earlier, content to give his fate over to the authorities in charge. He had given a statement after Dumbledore's death, and that, in addition to Malfoy's suspect disappearance, had been enough for the MLE department to swear out a warrant.
Remus was shaking his head. "Harry, nobody at the Ministry authorized it," Tonks spoke quietly, but her eyes were snapping with anger.
"Then, what - ?" Harry was at a loss.
"An aide was down at Malfoy's cell, asking him some questions. Malfoy was quite agitated and uncooperative - " Tonks began.
"There's a big surprise," Harry cut in dourly.
"He was quite insistent upon leaving, said that it was a matter of life or death, said that things had not happened the way everyone thought, and it was imperative that he be released," Tonks continued.
"So the aide just took him at his word?!" Harry's voice was dumbfounded. "Who was this idiot?" Lupin and Tonks exchanged unreadable glances. Harry looked back at Ron and Hermione, whose attention, along with everybody else's, remained fixed on their discussion.
"We think Malfoy told him something else. Something that must have convinced him to let him go."
"Why don't you know for sure?"
"Malfoy Obliviated him," Tonks said. "And didn't do a very good job at it, either. He must have been in a bit of a hurry, because the first part of the conversation was still intact. Whatever sealed the deal though, whatever Malfoy said he knew, or promised to tell, or promised to stop….that's gone. All P - " she bit off whatever she was about to say suddenly.
Harry glanced at them suspiciously, and saw Remus's eyes dart over Harry's shoulder to where his friends were sitting. All the information suddenly coalesced in his mind.
"Percy?" He said with complete incredulity. "Percy let him go?" Lupin got a strained look on his face, as he gestured with one hand for Harry to lower his voice. There was a clatter and some yelling behind him; when Harry turned, Ron was red in the face and shouting something, having to be restrained by Hermione and Neville. His chair was overturned on the floor. They'd obviously been able to follow the conversation closely enough to gather the general idea. Harry winced. "Sorry," he said, scrunching up his shoulders.
"Percy related to us what we just told you. Then the memory charm must have taken effect, because he got a glazed look on his face, and said, `It's going to be too late, you arrogant berk. Let me go. Don't you want it stopped?' After that, he seemed to come back to himself, apologizing profusely, and saying he didn't know what happened next, but when he woke up, Malfoy was gone. The cell had not been broken out of. Someone with the ward codes had keyed it with his or her wand."
"Why would Malfoy ask Percy, `Don't you want it stopped?'" Harry mused out loud. "Percy's a prat, but as far as I know, he's not actually playing on the same team as Malfoy." His eyes flickered upward in thought. "Do you think something's going to happen - ?"
He was interrupted by Ron, who had finally gotten away from Hermione and Neville, and came storming over to where they were standing.
"Are you serious? That - that - " Ron obviously could not think of anything bad enough to say. " - Percy let Malfoy go?" He was quite clearly furious.
"There's a lot we don't know yet, Ron," Lupin said in a placating voice.
"Have you told Mum and Dad?" he asked. Lupin and Tonks exchanged pained glances, and Remus nodded.
"They're at the Ministry now, with him. He's in custody," Remus spoke the last sentence hesitantly. "But only while we figure out what the hell's going on." Harry clapped Ron on one shoulder sympathetically, while his oldest friend's slouchy posture seemed to droop even more than normal. "They've doubled the Auror watch around the school, in case Malfoy tries to come here." He shrugged with finality, indicating that he'd said everything he knew to say. "We thought you'd want - we thought you deserved to know."
Harry was once again struck by the difference in the way the adults seemed to be treating him. The respect in Lupin's tone was one directed to a friend, an equal. He stuck out his hand. "Thanks…Remus," he said. "I - "
His hand clenched suddenly and sharply around Lupin's, the knuckles turning white, as, almost immediately on the heels of his thought, came a sharp pain in his scar. Hermione stood from the table in alarm, and rushed over to them, opening her mouth to speak. She was interrupted by sudden exclamations and clamor from the other students.
"Do you see that?"
"What's doing that?"
"What's going on?" came various voices, intertwining and mingling together. Hermione's gaze followed their stares and pointing fingers to the enchanted sky of Hogwart's, near what was supposed to be the horizon. She dimly registered the fact that the sky seemed to be lightening, but did not stop to wonder at it.
As she reached his side, Harry grimaced, as the pinprick of pain grew into a stabbing blade. He clenched his teeth together, and dug his fingernails into Lupin's hand. His old professor had placed his other arm around him, as Harry's knees buckled. Spots danced before his eyes; he was going to pass out.
Now… came a hiss that wasn't from him, bouncing around inside his skull, and ratcheting the pain up to another level entirely. Now…
"Harry?" came Ron's concerned voice. The agony flared inside Harry's head like white-hot flame, and he thought for a moment that his head would literally explode. He released Lupin's hand, and brought the heels of both hands up to each temple, hoping to somehow equalize the incredible pressure being brought to bear on him.
"Ron…Hermione…" he tried to say. He must have made some unintelligible gasping noise, because now some of the students were starting to notice him rather than the orange glow tinting the enchanted sky.
"His scar's bleeding again," Hermione said, not to Harry, but to Ron. Distantly, clouded by pain, Harry was aware of stinging liquid trickling into his eye.
Now…the malevolent voice said, and Hermione and Ron exchanged looks of frightened bewilderment. Harry wondered dimly if he'd spoken out loud.
"Somebody get Madame Pomfrey!" Someone - McGonagall? - cried out.
"I'll go," someone that sounded like Neville cried., and Harry heard a crash of cutlery and dinnerware. Then he was on the floor, folded over his knees, with Lupin, Hermione, and Ron kneeling beside him.
The pain began to subside slowly, although a dull prodding ache remained. Hermione watched as the glassiness began to fade from his eyes. Harry looked up at the enchanted ceiling, where the orange horizon had grown even brighter. It almost looked like dawn, but everyone knew that all was darkness outside. Dawn may never come, Harry thought grimly, and when he looked around, he was startled to realize that everyone in the Great Hall, even the teachers, some of whom had been heading for him when the fit had ended, was looking at him, but not in fright. For direction. For answers.
Pain roiled through his head like a relentless wave, and he lifted his eyes, with effort, to the ceiling. He could almost hear Hermione's lecturing voice in his head, "The ceiling's enchanted to look like the night sky. I read it in Hogwart's: A History." Whatever was causing the ominous glow on the enchanted ceiling was also actually occurring somewhere outside, he knew.
Three Aurors hurtled into the Great Hall, breathing heavily, obviously panicked, but Harry spoke before they could, raising his voice to project it throughout the Hall.
"Hogsmeade is burning," Harry said, his mouth pulled into a grim, taut line. His eyes looked hollow and cold, drawn with the unpleasant resignation that the moment he had been dreading - for his entire life, it seemed - had finally and irrevocably arrived. "And he is here."
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The Great Hall was in a tumult. McGonagall and Lupin barked out orders, while Hagrid herded the few fourth and fifth years out a side door, while most protested vehemently. There were preset portkeys that had been arranged for just this eventuality.
Harry had the key leaders of the D.A. circled around them, as he tried to give them some kind of instruction. Most of them looked grimly determined, although Susan Bones in particular wore a perpetual look of wide-eyed fright.
"There are Aurors already down in Hogsmeade, and there are sure to be more on the way. Maybe the Order as well," Harry said. "I want you to go where the Aurors need you, and look to Ron for directions." He and Ron exchanged a glance, and he spoke again to ward off Ron's protest. "You know strategy, Ron. Have I beaten you in a chess match yet?"
"Harry - " Ron began, trying not to state the obvious fact that a battle and chess were not exactly on the same level. "Where will you be?"
"I'm coming with you…for now. But I don't know how long I'll - " He stopped speaking, and quickly pulled Ron and Hermione aside. The other D.A. members began to murmur among themselves, with Ernie MacMillan taking the forefront in an unintentionally pontificating way.
"You mean before you have to fight Voldemort, don't you?" Hermione asked, her voice low and urgent. Harry nodded, and watched her swallow with difficulty.
"He's here, Hermione. I can - I can feel it. We've been waiting for six years, and this is it." He took a deep breath, as if to let the reality sink in. "This is it."
"But the - the horcrux - " Hermione stammered, almost inaudibly. Harry sighed, looking downcast.
"We knew this might happen. If only he'd gotten to replace that ruby," Ron said with chagrin.
"At least we're buying time. Look what happened to him the last time. It took him years to come back, and that was with additional horcruxes," Harry said, trying to be positive. All this did was cause Hermione's eyes to well up with tears.
"Har-ry," she said, in a kind of hiccupy way, and threw her arms around his neck. He returned the embrace, and the teenage boy part of him that wasn't preoccupied with the imminent possibility of death relished how delicious she felt in his arms.
"Erm.." Ron cleared his throat, but did not look terribly upset. He and Harry looked each other directly in the eye, their long friendship speaking without words. They clasped hands, nearly at the wrist, and shook.
"Here's to the deaths of evil Dark Lords," Ron said flippantly.
"You've got it," Harry rejoined, while Hermione emitted an exasperated sigh.
"Honestly!" She had begun, when Lupin approached them.
"The Order's arrived. We're marching on Hogsmeade. Are you ready?" The trio nodded. "We didn't get a chance to discuss your wandless magic, Harry," Lupin was speaking rapidly. "Concentration is important, Harry, but I think the pressing need to do it carries even more weight. You weren't thinking about that door at Godric's Hollow at all, but Ron was annoying you. You felt the urge to fix the door so he would stop trying." Ron and Harry exchanged rueful glances. "If you are somehow disarmed, you'll need to call on your emotions, more so than your concentration on the specific spell." Harry nodded gravely, drinking in all Lupin was telling him. "Can you and Ron be in charge of the student fighters?" he asked.
"We'd already discussed that, sir." Lupin's lips twitched in something like approval.
"Good!" he said with an air of finality, and then raised his voice to address the occupants of the Great Hall. "There will be specific persons with portkeys that will take you to the hospital wing, should it become necessary. To signal these people, have your wand send up white sparks….white sparks…" he repeated. Everyone nodded, their faces deadly serious.
Ron spotted red hair in the crowd of new arrivals at the back of the Great Hall.
"Mum! Dad!" he cried, making his way toward them. Hermione, Harry, and Ginny followed as well. Mr. Weasley's robes had ash on the shoulders, and Mrs. Weasley's hair was dimmed by soot. They had obviously just Flooed in from the Ministry.
"Percy?" Ron stammered, a question in his voice. Mrs. Weasley waved one hand dismissively, as if to say "we'll discuss it later."
She then enfolded all four of them into successive embraces, while Mr. Weasley shook Ron's and Harry's hand in a very man-to-man fashion. His eyes gave him away though, as they glistened with emotion.
"I know you're all going to do me proud today," he said abruptly, and went to find Lupin. Ginny and Hermione exchanged misty glances, while Ron and Harry looked intently at their shoes.
"Do be careful," Mrs. Weasley pleaded. "I'm going to be assisting Madame Pomfrey in the hospital wing. I'd really rather not see any of you up there."
"Yes, ma'am," they replied.
"Except for you, Ginevra Weasley," her mother continued cheerfully.
"What?" Ginny was uncomprehending.
"I can't do anything with those three, since they're of age. But you aren't, and you're going to assist in the hospital wing." Mrs. Weasley's tone brooked no argument. Ginny looked simply furious.
"You've - you've been planning this!" she accused, and Mrs. Weasley did not deny it.
"Why else would I have had you learning healing charms this summer?" Ginny opened her mouth to argue, but Mrs. Weasley cut in, saying gently, "Not every fight is on a battlefield, Ginny. You're going to be needed, and you can do a lot of good." Ginny closed her mouth with a snap, then opened and closed it again, but saying nothing. She was clearly at a loss. She looked at Harry a little wistfully.
"All right," she conceded, then turned to give Ron and Hermione hugs. She bussed Ron on the cheek. "Be safe," she said, her words simple, but her emotion heartfelt. She turned to Harry and hesitated. Harry looked uncomfortable at her feelings for him, which were shining out of her beautiful eyes. "You too," she whispered, as he lifted his arms to enbrace her. He darted a quick glance at Hermione, and kissed Ginny lightly at the corner of her mouth. He was feeling oddly guilty, but he wasn't sure if it was because he didn't have the guts to tell Ginny the truth, or because he had kissed her in front of Hermione, or because he cared at all how Hermione felt about the whole thing.
"You take care," he replied.
And then Lupin and McGonagall were calling out to everybody that it was time to go.
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The Death Eaters were firmly entrenched in Hogsmeade, a large percentage of which was already ablaze. It was impossible to tell where the fire had started, but when Harry saw the roof of Honeyduke's fall in, sending a plume of sparks upward, and the more distant glow of what could only be the Shrieking Shack burning, he knew that the fire or fires had been set with a purpose. The Shrieking Shack could not have caught fire from the other buildings, and now the secret passages from Hogwart's were blocked.
As the Aurors, Order members, and students crept into the woods flanking the back streets of Hogsmeade, Harry could hear cries of fear from townspeople, along with angry rejoinders from the Death Eaters. He felt the familiar thrum of anger buzz in his ears over the crackling of the flames, and swore once again to himself that Voldemort would pay. He had spoken brave words to Hermione, but a trickle of doubt seeped into his mind. Did he know what would happen if he defeated Voldemort without the destruction of the final horcrux? Do I know whether or not I can defeat him in the first place?
Somewhere in the woods, a twig snapped loudly, someone swore, and a voice from the town said, "Someone's out there!" Harry was close enough now to feel the heat from the burning buildings, and looked up at the trees worriedly, wondering how long it would take for them to ignite as well.
There were shouts and cries just a short distance away, as Death Eaters were dispatched to investigate the source of the noise. Harry, Hermione, and Ron were in a loose clump with some other members of the D.A. Someone stood, wand out, and Harry frantically gestured for them to get back down, shaking his head vigorously. There was no need to give away their position until things got more out of hand.
Harry felt the talisman in his pocket vibrate, and knew that to be the signal to advance. Lupin had given them out at the door to all of the "Captains". Ron had gotten one as well.
"We want to take them unawares, if possible," Lupin had said. "They've got us by numbers, and we don't yet know what their objective is."
Harry rose to his feet, along with Ron, and he inclined his head toward the town, indicating that the others should follow him. Twilight was now nearly full dark, and Harry could be seen as only a silhouette against the darker outlines of trees, backlit by the growing inferno.
Lupin had wanted them to cut off access to Hogwart's, assuming that to be their goal, and Harry couldn't help but appreciate that the Death Eaters, in their zeal to prevent back-up from arriving from Hogwart's had cut off some of their mobility as well.
"We need to set up directly behind these buildings," Harry whispered to the small group. "Lupin said he was going to try to cut them off at the road. We need to make sure they can't get onto the grounds through the woods. We should have two there, and there, and three there, and there," he pointed toward buildings that were not yet aflame. "Watch out for the fire."
The D.A. began to disperse, and Harry turned toward Lupin's position, wanting to place himself the closest to that end of town.
"Harry, where are you going?" Hermione hissed. He jerked his head in his intended direction, and she responded, "I'm coming with you." He shook his head at her.
"Go with Ron," he ordered.
"You need someone with you," she replied stubbornly. "Besides, Ron's already gone." Harry looked over her shoulder in the darkness, barely able to make out the uneven outlines of buildings that had people crouched near them. Ron had melted into the blackness, taking up his indicated position with Seamus Finnegan and Luna Lovegood. Harry wondered how he and Hermione always seemed to end up in these situations together, and wondered if, in fact, Ron had come to expect it too, perhaps without even realizing he did so.
He hesitated again, when he heard more shouts and cries, as wand light began to flash rapidly. A hex must have hit the building nearest to where they were standing because it began to rumble ominously, already weakened by fire.
"I'm not taking `no' for an ans - " Hermione said firmly, even as her eyes darted around anxiously. Ginny had acquiesced to his wishes and accepted his point of view on things without much fight. She had probably thought she was doing him a favor, but Harry wondered fleetingly that, if she had fought, had stubbornly insisted on accompanying them, if things might be different now.
"This is not the time or the - " Harry began, but Hermione called out over the whining of bending wood and the grinding shriek of falling stone.
"Get down!" She pushed him into a depression in the ground, just on the border of the treeline, and fell on top of him, as the building collapsed.
There was a tremendous thundering roar, as the flames, which had been previously trapped inside the attic of the building, surged upward into open air, devouring the sudden abundance of oxygen. Hermione stood up, flexing her fingers, as she rubbed her bleeding palm against her jeans. She offered her other hand to him, and he grasped her fingers, and stood, marveling at how small her hand seemed in his.
"Sorry about that," she said, self-consciously.
Some of the trees had started to burn, and Harry saw with horror that white sparks had shot up from somewhere further down the D.A.'s line. He could no longer see the shadowy outlines of people, and figured that they had already begun making their way down the alleys toward the main street running through Hogsmeade.
"What are they playing at?" he murmured in frustration. "They've got to know that we're here. What's going on?" He felt a hand on his shoulder, with pressure behind it, as Hermione indicated wordlessly that he should get down. She knelt behind him, her hand warm and reassuring on his shoulder, and her form close enough to him that he could feel the heat radiating from it.
"Wha - ?" he started to say, turning back to look at her. Her face was all in shadows, except for her eyes, which shone in the orange light, reflecting dancing tongues of flame. She shook her head, and drew her wand.
A cloaked Death Eater ventured slowly toward them, separating from the shadowy black outline of an adjacent building. Harry had only just located him, and he had apparently not seen them at all, when Hermione felled him neatly with a non-verbal Stupefy, leaning over Harry's shoulder.
"Good show!" Harry said, in the heartiest whisper he could muster, turning toward Hermione suddenly. They both froze, as their faces were only millimeters apart. Harry's heartbeat increased to a frenetic pace, and he suddenly thought that his heart was in his mouth; it would explain, at least, why he was unable to swallow. This is not the time, not the time, not the time! A voice inside his head exclaimed furiously, seeming to speak more rapidly and insistently as it realized that it was going to be ignored.
Hermione's eyes were large and luminous in the light, and Harry felt, rather than saw, a tremor run through her like quicksilver. He leaned almost imperceptibly closer, and he thought she did too. And she wasn't resisting, she wasn't backing away, she wasn't doing any of those things…and why wasn't she? He couldn't understand, but he couldn't make himself stop, and… had a lifetime gone by in these few seconds?
Ron! Something in his mind said very loudly and suddenly, and whether it was fatigue, or his own guilty conscience, he didn't know, but his knees gave out at that moment, and he fell abruptly onto his arse. Hermione had been leaning on his shoulder still, and fell over his lap, with a soft "oof", her hands not quite preventing herself from plowing face first into soft earth..
She scrambled away from him then, as he'd half-expected her to earlier, and whatever unspeakable, intangible thing that was trembling between them had snapped. She ran dirty hands over an even dirtier face, and looked as adorable as he'd ever seen her. This is not the time for this, even if she wasn't your best mate's girlfriend, Harry thought, unbearably frustrated, and extremely annoyed with himself to boot. It's the bloody Final Battle, and I'm behind a burning building trying to get a snog?
Hermione stood up, dusted her hands off on the back of her jeans, and held a hand out to Harry, much as she had just a few moments earlier. He stood as well, and Incarcerous-ed the Death Eater's prone form. Behind Hermione, towards Lupin's end of the line, white sparks shot up like a shower of stars.
Why aren't the Death Eaters pressing their advantage? He wondered again, and a voice behind him said,
"Expelliarmus." Two wands flew into the air, and landed neatly in an outstretched hand. Harry couldn't make out any features, but he would know that slick cultured voice anywhere.
Concentrate on the emotion. Concentrate on the emotion, Harry chanted to himself. He thought of how much he had always loathed Draco Malfoy, thought of him cornering Dumbledore on the Astronomy Tower, an injured, disarmed Dumbledore, and how even then, even then, Malfoy didn't have the - contempt suddenly replaced Harry's anger, and he didn't know if that would work as well, but he thought Petrificus Totalus anyway.
Malfoy's arms and legs snapped to his sides, and he fell over, bouncing rigidly to the ground. Hermione had retrieved their wands in the next instant, and Harry was kneeling on the ground, both fists wound in Malfoy's cloak, his teeth bared in a grimace, his nose only inches away from Malfoy's.
"Give me one good reason," Harry panted, "why I shouldn't kill you now." Malfoy's eyes were wild and staring. Every muscle in his face was tense and unmoving, yet Harry somehow got the uncomfortable impression that Malfoy was desperately trying to tell him something.
Hermione deftly relieved Malfoy of his wand, and cast a Muffliato spell. "Let him go, Harry. See if he can tell you anything worth knowing first…then you can kill him." Harry looked at her with some surprise, but if she was acting, she was doing a fine job. Her lips were drawn into a tight line, and her eyes were hooded, shadowed under lowered brows.
"Finite Incantatem!" Harry said, and Malfoy immediately began to struggle, thrashing out at Harry in an attempt to rise. "Be still, you idiot. Nobody can hear you anyway." Malfoy stopped fighting, but managed to pull himself to a sitting position, dusting earth and dry leaves off of his robes, with what was left of his regal demeanor.
"Accio wand," Malfoy shouted suddenly, and his wand shot into his hand. Harry was caught off-guard, and took a couple of steps backwards, as there was suddenly a clumsy, unpracticed thrust into his mind.
Hex me, the voice said, and make it look good. He looked at Malfoy in astonishment, and his eyes were wide and uncomprehending.
"What the hell…?" he said, dazedly. Malfoy's sneer deepened. He pushed harder into Harry's mind, and Harry brought one hand up to his temple, unaware that he was even doing so.
HEX ME, came the voice, more vehemently, or do I have to do something to your little mudblood girlfriend first? I could…
Harry hit him with a low-level reductor before Malfoy could make up any details. The spell caught him on the jaw, and landed him on his back. Malfoy opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, as if testing it, and then, as quick as wandflash, he was back on his feet, and had tackled Harry to the ground. He could vaguely hear Hermione's voice, low and urgent in the background, demanding to know what the hell he was doing.
"We don't have a lot of time," he hissed in a low voice. "He's watching us, but he can't hear us. We've got to look like we're fighting." Harry struggled under Malfoy's tight grip, finally managing to get his wand arm free, but Malfoy dodged his next hex.
"Give me one good reason why I should believe you. Why'd you use Legilimency if he can't hear us?" Malfoy charmed a length of wooden beam to attack Harry, which bloodied his nose, but Harry kicked his legs out as he fell, and knocked Malfoy down as well.
"There was no reason for me to speak to you. It would have made him suspicious," Draco panted. "There's someone waiting for you at the Shrieking Shack."
"It's burnt down," Harry countered, grunting as he rolled to miss Malfoy's fist, and scrambling to aim his wand.
"He's guarding the tunnels to Hogswart's, underneath the house. You know what's going on, don't you? The Dark Lo - he's waiting for you….where he was before. The Death Eaters have orders to hold Hogsmeade, nothing more. They're going to destroy the town, and pick your people off one by one…unless you go now…and end this."
Don't you want it stopped? The words echoed suddenly in Harry's head. Percy's half-Obliviated conversation made sense now. They faced each other, wands out, breathing heavily, and seemed unsure what to do next.
"Why should I believe you?" Harry asked wearily.
"I can't give you a reason," Draco said, as imperiously as ever. "But the fact remains that I'm telling the truth. You can take it or leave it, while more of your friends die." As if his words were prophetic, Harry saw white sparks blaze a silvery trail into the blue-black sky.
He kept his wand trained on Malfoy, mindful of watching eyes, but said, "All right." His very expression was resignation personified.
"Follow me," Malfoy hissed, and sent a Stupefy zinging past Harry's ear, and vanished into the woods. The curse hit a tree branch with a loud crack, and Hermione shrieked as she tried to dodge it. Harry had almost forgotten she was there.
"Hermione!" he cried out suddenly. She was climbing slowly back to her feet, twin lacerations across her cheek, where the branch had lashed her as it fell.
"I'm okay. We've got to hurry," she said wildly, gesturing toward where Malfoy had disappeared.
"He's probably taking me to a trap. It could be a trap. Just like Cedric…" he said, trailing off.
"It may be utterly stupid, but I believe him, Harry," Hermione said, looking him straight in the eye. "He could have just showed up and lured you to chase him there. He didn't have to tell you all that." Harry had to admit that she had a point, but he still gave her a dubious look.
"I have every intention of going," Harry said. "But that doesn't mean that I trust Malfoy further than I can throw him. And you're not going," he said, as Hermione opened her mouth to say something else.
"Harry James Potter, I'm not leaving you now!" she said passionately, and kissed him full on the mouth. His eyes widened for a moment, and then slid shut, as his stomach dropped into his knees. Almost immediately the kiss was over, and Hermione was running one hand self-consciously across her mouth.
"What was that for?" he asked, stunned.
"You're all dirty," Hermione said, wrinkling her nose and deliberately misunderstanding him. "We should go," she said regretfully, as if they'd been standing there for hours, instead of seconds.
"Yeah…" Harry said, looking wistfully at her mouth. He couldn't think of anything else right then, not Ron, not Ginny, not the logistical impossibilities they faced.
"Harry - " she began, breathlessly, but then stopped.
"What?"
"Nothing. Let's go." They clasped and released hands quickly, and took a zigzagging track into the woods, where they melted into the darkness as completely as if they'd never been there at all.
TBC
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