AN: Realized I'd forgotten a disclaimer. The characters in this and the previous chapters are not mine. Neither infringement nor profit is among my objectives.
Resistance
Chapter Eighteen: Lake
"Harry, you're going to have to help me here," Hermione said, her voice muffled under the fabric of her shirt. "I can't lift my arm enough to get it in the sleeve." There was no answer, and she said again, "Harry?" When the silence continued, she finally pulled the collar of the shirt down, and turned to look at him expectantly.
Harry was sitting on the edge of the bed, fully dressed, but shoeless, looking at her so mournfully that she wanted to cry. She knew instantly what was causing his black mood, having felt some of the same ambivalent feelings herself this morning.
"Harry…" she began, in the same benignly remonstrating tone she would have used if he'd put off an essay until the last minute.
"I don't want to go out there," he said, helplessly, as if confessing some deeply hidden secret.
"They gave us a day, Harry. That's eighteen hours longer than they probably should have given us," she said patiently, even while she understood exactly how he felt. They had awakened the morning after their wedding to find a tray, sitting on a small table, where it had been previously unnoticed. It was charmed to provide them with whatever food they requested, although it was working, by necessity, from a much more limited menu than Hogwarts. A note in Tonks' hand explained that they had the day to themselves.
They had not left the bed for the rest of it. At one point, Hermione had simply Summoned the tray over to them; when food had finally become a necessity, it provided only an unwelcome distraction from each other.
"It - it was … incredible," Harry said softly. Hermione smiled wispily, and walked over to sit beside him on the bed, where he carefully lifted her shirt sleeve over her injured shoulder.
"What was?" she asked, in a hushed tone mirroring his, even though she thought she knew what he was going to say.
"Getting to pretend - to pretend that everything was normal, and that nothing in the world mattered, except for the fact that we're in love and just got married," he sighed. "I almost don't want to face them - any of it - I just want to stay in here forever…with you." He sounded so plaintive that she almost laughed, but stopped at the pained look in his eyes. She captured his face between her hands, and leaned toward him, gently capturing his lips with hers.
"That last part," she whispered hoarsely, "the part where we're in love and got married - that wasn't pretend, Harry." He closed his eyes for a moment, and seemed to be reveling in her touch.
"Thank God for that," he said in a raspy voice, before winding his arms around her, and returning her kiss with a desperate kind of passion, the clinging of a drowning man to the only solid thing within his grasp, a sort of pleading for more and a just-in-case good-bye all rolled into one. Hermione felt the fire in his touch, and couldn't tell where each of them separated into individuals. His hands slid up her back to cup her shoulders, and then she felt them fumbling at the two buttons on her shirt's neckline.
Perhaps the outside world could wait a few minutes longer.
~~**~~
When they emerged from their hideaway, fully dressed and loosely holding hands, the majority of the Order was clustered in the War Room. Remus was seated at a table speaking to someone through a two-way mirror. Tonks and Mr. Weasley hovered anxiously over his shoulders. In the infirmary where Hermione had initially awakened, Penelope and Madam Pomfrey were bent over a cauldron that steamed copiously and smelled foul. Ginny was sitting on the edge of the empty bed, talking to them.
"Fred will meet you in the usual place," Lupin was saying, and Hermione saw the glow from the mirror dim as he tapped it with his wand and broke the connection. "Fred!" he called, getting that particular Weasley's attention from a table in the corner, where he was busy with a myriad of unidentifiable components. "He's ready. He'll be there shortly." Fred nodded a response, and got up, tucking his wand in his pocket. Without further exchanged, he headed for the entrance where the cavern met the lake.
Hermione and Harry exchanged bewildered glances.
"Who's he meeting?" Harry asked. "Where is he going?"
"We were going to wait to brief all three of you together," Tonks said, her lips thinned with a mixture of chagrin and annoyance. "But Ron - " Hermione saw alarm flash in Harry's eyes, and she said quickly,
"What's happened to Ron?" Her voice sounded high and panicky.
"Old Ogden happened to Ron," Tonks said dryly, and waited for the comprehension to flash across their faces. "Aberforth gave him the last bottle, which he seemed to think he needed last night."
"He's … drunk?" Hermione managed to say.
"He's sleeping it off," Tonks corrected. "Arthur wanted to leave him with a monster of a hangover to deal with, but there's too much to do. We need him functional."
Hermione wasn't sure whether she wanted to cry, apologize, or pummel Ron. He's drunk. With all that's going on…
It was a wedding.
That's not why he got drunk.
That's exactly why he got drunk.
Hermione flinched, and looked at Harry. She knew that he was thinking the same thing she was. The wedding ring felt heavy and unfamiliar on her left hand, and she flexed her fingers experimentally around it, while the bandages rustled with the movement. Harry felt her fidget, and squeezed her other hand, which was still clasped in his. He seemed to be giving her a warning look, as if to say, Too late now; you made your choice, and we're married.
She shook her head at him. Don't be silly. He squeezed her hand one more time, and winked at her as he moved away, drifting toward Fleur and Aberforth, who had gotten involved in a fairly intense-looking discussion over by the well-traveled map of Great Britain.
She turned toward the infirmary, with the vague intention of having Madam Pomfrey look at her arms. The skin underneath the bandages was beginning to itch, and she was hoping that there was some kind of salve or potion to help reduce the scarring.
Ginny was walking toward them carefully, holding a steaming mug aloft, apparently counting the steps across the rather large chamber to the War Room.
"I've got it, Dad," she said, as she drew closer. "I can be the one to give it to him, if you'd like. If I end up pouring on his head, I can claim it was an accident."
"Ginny," Mr. Weasley chided. "He's - it's a bit difficult for him right now - not that I'm saying this was the right way to go about dealing with it, but - but do try to be a bit understanding."
"I understand more than you think," Ginny replied softly, and the shards of pain in her voice stabbed at Hermione. Mr. Weasley looked up then and locked eyes with her. She tried to swallow painfully around the large lump lodged in her throat.
"I'll - " she croaked, and had to clear her throat. "I'll take it to him." Her eyes flickered involuntarily over to Harry, who turned to look at her so abruptly that Aberforth stopped speaking to see what had diverted his attention. Hermione felt herself flush, as if she'd been caught in the act of doing something wrong. It annoyed her.
She took the mug from Ginny's outstretched hands with more irritation than she meant to, wondering why she felt so conflicted. She didn't doubt her love for Harry - or his for her - not for a second, but she wished… she wished that it had occurred under better circumstances, with Ron busy with life after graduation, perhaps playing professional Quidditch, with Ginny safely ensconced at Hogwarts, caught up in the whirlwind of invincibility and intrigue that was the seventh year. Maybe that's just selfish, she thought glumly, I want everyone to be happy, so I won't feel so guilty that I am.
Harry's eyes were still on her, she could tell without even looking, and she wondered how much of her thoughts were evident on her face. The rancid smell of the Sobriety potion assailed her nose suddenly, and her nostrils flared in disgust. She was all too aware of her nearly painfully empty stomach, and she was growing uncomfortable with the way it gurgled and sloshed in response to the offensive smell.
I am not going to throw up on Ginny, she thought fiercely.
"If the hangover doesn't cure him of drinking, the smell of this potion will," she joked lightly, and she saw the tension evident in Ginny's shoulders relax. "I'll get him out here. No one nags better than I do."
"That's the truth!" Harry called out cheekily, and she narrowed her eyes at him, even as she marveled at how closely he'd been following their conversation while pretending to listen to Aberforth. He was evidently more concerned about her feelings than he was trying to let on.
As she turned to go retrieve Ron, she looked back at her husband - husband! - and he fluttered his fingers at her slightly, leaving his arm at his side. His wedding ring gleamed in the lamplight, and she couldn't help but wonder when it would seem real.
~~**~~
She toyed with the idea of singing out, as she entered the partition where Ron slept, something loud and obnoxious, guaranteed to pierce his pounding head with pain, but she decided against it. Instead, she sat on the edge of his mattress, and wafted the steam from the mug under his nose.
He snorted once, recoiled, coughed, and then fluttered his eyes open to look at her accusingly.
"What the hell is that?" he asked, in a muffled tone, squinting up at her as if she had the noonday sun behind her head.
"A Sobriety potion. Drink it," she told him perfunctorily.
"Drink it? I don't want it within 10 meters of me. What the hell is in it? It smells like a dead Blast-Ended Skrewt." He tried to sit up, and swore under his breath as he did so, closing his eyes again, and clutching at the edge of the mattress.
"I don't know. Penelope and Madam Pomfrey made it for you. And I'd think that if you can get drunk on Old Ogden's, then you can drink this." He gave her a withering look, as if to let her know that this owl-piss potion could never be in the same class as the wizarding world's finest firewhiskey. She handed Ron the mug, with her most resolute expression on her face. He took it, and peered dubiously over the rim at the contents. With a little spluttering and much profanity, he managed to chug the potion.
They sat in silence for a moment, while Ron wiped his mouth on the edge of the sheet, grimacing.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Hermione asked, once the silence had threatened to become awkward.
"Talk about what?" Ron asked thickly, averting his eyes. She narrowly avoided rolling her eyes, but instead looked at him limpidly, her brow creasing with compassion.
"About why you got drunk," she said gently, her voice a near whisper.
"Maybe I was just having a little fun," Ron said, in a tone of challenge. "My two best friends got married. What's not to celebrate?" She flinched at the sarcasm dripping from his words.
"Ron, the last thing we meant to do was - "
"Hurt me, I know," Ron interrupted her, looking at her squarely for the first time since she'd entered his room. "Just because you didn't mean to, doesn't mean it doesn't hurt," he added succinctly.
"I know," she admitted. Silence fell deafeningly once again. Then, "Harry shouldn't have asked you to stand up with us, Ron. I'm sorry."
"Don't be," he said heavily. "I - I'm sure that - that one day, maybe in about thirty years or so, I'll be glad I did it. I've got enough regret to be going on with anyway. No need to add that to the list." His voice was flippant, but it did not fool her.
"Ron - " she tried, but stopped. What was there to say? She couldn't make it better. She couldn't give him what he wanted. "If you ever want to talk - " She broke off, as he shook his head, a mirthless smile crossing his face.
"If I ever feel like talking about it, Hermione, it won't be with you. It can't be with you. You and - you and Harry have enough to deal with… I'm - I'm not going to - I won't burden you with - "
"You'd never be a burden, Ron," she cried out, passionately, desperate for him to believe her.
"Still, it'd be awkward, and I - I - you're my two best mates! I'm the last one who should be raining on your parade…" he pointed out, sticking to his original point. She knew he was right.
"I know," she replied, her voice barely audible. He stood up, cracking some of the vertebrae in his spine as he arched his back and groaned. As he began to rummage in his trunk for clothing, he spoke over his shoulder,
"They're waiting on me?"
"Yes," she replied. "Remus wants to brief us." He nodded, and turned back to her, a bundle of clothes wadded haphazardly under his arm.
"Give me five minutes." He was almost to the partition, which had shimmered into obliging transparency, when she called out,
"Ron?" The word leapt from her throat, almost of its own volition. He pivoted towards her, his eyebrows raised in question. "Talk to somebody. I understand if it can't be me - or - or Harry, but you - you shouldn't have to deal with this alone. You ought to confide in somebody." She thought suddenly of Luna, and the watchful, contemplative way the Ravenclaw had regarded Ron at the wedding, but she did not give voice to those thoughts.
"We'll see," Ron said noncommittally, and stepped through the divider without another look. Hermione stood in his room for a moment, motionless and lost in thought, before proceeding in the same direction he had gone, with the patented determined gait that she had perfected at Hogwarts.
There would be just enough time to speak to Madam Pomfrey before Ron finished his shower.
~~**~~
She, Harry, and Ron made no attempt to conceal their collective shock when Fred arrived in the company of the mysterious visitor with whom Remus had been conversing. Hermione almost doubted her own eyes, looking uncertainly at the boys flanking her, as it for corroboration. It seemed impossible that someone could have changed so much in the few months since they'd last seen him, but then again, maybe it was events that had changed him, hardening him, altering his appearance without any real modification of his features. Harry spoke first.
"Sh - Seamus?"
"In the flesh," their former housemate replied. His smile was small and guarded, but some light did reach his eyes at the sight of them. He looked - he looked old, Hermione realized suddenly, with the age and world-weariness that come with living under extreme stress, and she wondered where he'd been and what he'd gone through over the last four months. There was something of Harry in the shadows of his eyes. A scar ran down the side of his face, near his ear, and disappearing into the neckline of his shirt. It had been closed badly, by someone who had not had a good grasp on healing charms, perhaps Seamus himself. His hair was longer and messy; it had been cleaned with a charm recently, but had not been combed. He was wearing Muggle clothing that looked like it had seen better days, and heavy boots. Hermione noticed with surprise that some kind of very large hunting knife hung from his belt in a battered leather scabbard spattered with something dark and sinister looking. His wand was tucked alongside. His eyes moved constantly, she saw, and he positioned himself so that he was facing the entrance to the cave, even knowing the extensive security measures that had to have been in place. "It's good to see you three."
The Trio turned to Remus, mouths agape, dozens of questions swirling in their eyes.
"Seamus has been leading a band of resistance fighters since Voldemort's takeover," Lupin informed them, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "His group has been responsible for taking down quite a number of Death Eaters - some of them fairly high-level." Seamus was watching them appraisingly.
"We got Macnair two weeks ago," he said, speaking not in a tone of triumph or boasting, but in the same way that he would have spoken about a trip to buy groceries. Hermione's eyes wandered down to the machete again, and then back up to Seamus' face. His eyes gave away nothing.
"How many - how many fighters do you have?" Harry asked hoarsely. Hermione could tell that he was calculating odds behind his eyes; they needed every battle-trained witch or wizard they could possibly get.
"Right now, just seven," Seamus said, looking almost apologetic. "But they're almost all D.A., Harry, best trained out of Hogwarts."
"You've gotten the D.A. back together?" Ron's voice was one of disbelief. A cloud passed over Seamus' face briefly.
"The ones who are still alive," he clarified grimly. Hermione blanched, and saw Harry slump slightly at the table next to her. Ron's freckles stood out on his pale face.
"W - who?" Harry managed to say, the muscles in his throat working as he struggled to speak.
"The Death Eaters came after me only a few days after the attacks in Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley. My mother was killed. I somehow managed to escape - thanks to your training, Harry - and I went to find Dean." Harry hunched over even further at Seamus' words of gratitude, and he looked utterly miserable. "I - it took me awhile to get there - Wizarding travel was shot by then and I didn't want to Apparate blindly into an unknown situation - and I was too late. He - he was - " He faltered a little here, and seemed to need a moment to regain his composure. Hermione looked quickly at Ginny, as did both Harry and Ron, but the youngest Weasley's face was impassive. Hermione figured that the story Seamus was telling had been heard by the rest of the Order already. He continued,
"I noticed that the Death Eaters hadn't disturbed any of the houses around Dean's, that they had come specifically after him. I went after Neville next, but his grandmother's house had been ransacked, completely ripped apart." The Trio nodded in comprehension, knowing that the Death Eaters probably hadn't been happy when they found that their quarry had fled. "I assumed he'd been killed or captured," Seamus continued. "It wasn't until I ran into Fred," he nodded at the remaining Weasley twin, "that I found out what had actually happened." His hand nervously toyed with the clasp holding the knife in place. "The Death Eaters seemed to be targeting our house, class, or those involved with the D.A. I assumed that they were trying to squelch any kind of organization that might be loyal to Harry, and I began to try and find other D.A. members, especially the half-bloods and Muggle-born of them. Most wanted to help; a few wanted to fight. We've relocated families of those who seemed particular targets, and we've - we've started fighting back." He shrugged, as if recognizing how overly simplistic that sounded.
"Who have you got?" Ron asked, curiously.
"Both Creeveys are fighting with me. So are Susan Bones, Padma Patil, Megan Jones, and Michael Corner. We had Finch-Fletchley, but Justin was killed in a raid five days ago."
"That makes six," Hermione said, and Seamus nodded, darting his eyes at her, as if he wished that she had not pointed that out.
"Blaise Zabini is my second in command," he said.
"Zabini?" Ron burst out incredulously. "He's a Slytherin. You can't trust him! Does he know where we are?"
"None of the rest of Seamus' group knows of Harry's association with our group," Remus said calmingly. "Seamus doesn't even have access, unless one of us is with him."
"Blaise has been a good fighter. His father refused a direct order from Voldemort, so Voldemort killed him, his wife, and their daughter. Blaise was in Diagon Alley, buying a broom, and managed to escape when they came after him. When he saw what Voldemort had done… he actually came to me. He is a Slytherin, but it's really an advantage. He knows how they think. He's been trained for this kind of dueling since he was old enough to hold a wand. He could have betrayed us all a dozen times over, but he hasn't."
"You mentioned Padma. What of Parvati - and - and Lavender?" Hermione asked hesitantly, looking furtively at Ron.
"I dug Padma out of the ruins of her house. She almost died, but luckily, Susan's healing charms are better than mine. The rest of her family was dead. We haven't been able to find Lavender." There was a heavy silence. Hermione thought numbly of her roommates, of Parvati giggling with Lavender over breakfast, in her exotic sari at the Yule Ball with Harry. Parvati was dead, and for some reason - the girl hadn't been exactly what Hermione could call a friend - it was difficult to process. She looked at Ron again, who betrayed nothing of his feelings upon hearing that Lavender was missing. Harry had his fist against his mouth, propping up his head; he looked to be somewhere very far away.
"What order did Zabini's father refuse?" He finally asked, his voice not sounding at all like his own.
"Voldemort wanted him to destroy the orphanage where he used to live. There were fifty-eight children under the age of sixteen living there at the time. The youngest one was eight months old. Blaise said his father had been having some trouble rationalizing things since the attacks. An order to kill Muggle children that were no threat to Voldemort was too much for him to take."
"And the orphanage?" Harry pressed.
"Dolohov burned it to the ground. There were no survivors," Seamus replied, without inflection. Hermione studied him carefully, wondering if he was really as calloused as he strove to seem.
"Seamus has been networking quite extensively," Remus interjected. "As you can imagine, one relatively anonymous person can move with much more ease in the chaos. There's been a sort of cooperative formed, for potions, medical supplies, and food, and Seamus has offered to be our liaison. We'd not actually be interacting much with them; the cooperative is too open, even though it is operating underground, and most of us here are too high-profile. But changes are in the offing, where it is going to be much harder to procure things we need without being apprehended." He looked weary beyond his years, and the Trio exchanged concerned glances.
"What sorts of changes?" Hermione was finally the one to say.
"The Registry," Seamus said grimly, with a portent of horror in his voice. He met Hermione's eyes then, and she had an inkling of what he was going to say, before he said it. "Voldemort's requiring everyone to register to be able to participate in any kind of purchase or transaction. Half-bloods will be consigned to a sort of lower-class status, and Muggle-borns will - "
" - be exterminated," Hermione's voice blended softly with his, as she completed his sentence for him. Seamus looked at her, and nodded once.
"He'd kill the half-bloods too, but he knows the Wizarding world couldn't sustain itself without them."
"And he'd be legally required to off himself," Ron snorted in disgust.
"He's using a registry to be able to track everyone, assuming that those who refuse to register are malcontents and troublemakers."
"He'll have everyone caught unregistered arrested and imprisoned, maybe killed," Hermione predicted. "Why? If enough people stood up to him, then - "
"People are scared," Seamus broke in. "All they want to do is keep their families alive and stay off of Voldemort's radar. Wizards are fleeing England in droves, but there are Death Eaters stationed at ports, Muggle airports, major Floo Centers, just looking for reasons to detain someone." Hermione wondered exactly how much Seamus had been told, but her question was answered, when he continued. "Voldemort isn't holding power just through fear - you know just how powerful he really is, probably better than anyone else. Professor Lupin is right - to even have a hope of success, we've got to get rid of his army. And if we have to storm Hogwarts, our first engagement could very well be our last stand." His eyes flickered to each of them in turn. "We may not get any second chances."
"We may have to face the fact that we're in this alone. The Ministry is gone," Remus put in. "It was beheaded by the death of Scrimgeour, and rendered useless by the attacks. The wizarding world is still reeling from the blows, and - "
"And while it's reeling, more people die - Muggles and wizards," Harry finished grimly.
"The Muggles are starting to notice too. Have you noticed that Voldemort has scaled down his annihilation of Muggle villages?"
"Sorry, can't say that we have," Ron said derisively. "One was destroyed around our ears a few days back."
"The one destroyed in Scotland three days ago was the first one in over a fortnight. Macnair said that it was the last one on the agenda for awhile. The Muggles have been conducting tests of their natural gas pipelines and valves, looking for malfunctions. Some have already come to the conclusion that it's terrorist attacks."
"They are closer to the truth than they know," Fleur commented quietly.
"Macnair told you about Voldemort's agenda?" Hermione's voice was incredulous, and Seamus met her eyes squarely for a long moment, seemingly drilling into her with the intensity of his gaze.
"Yes," he said simply, and she suddenly realized how he had gotten such information. Her mouth opened in a soundless "o", and her eyes darted, against their will, to the leather-sheathed knife again. She swallowed noisily; her throat seemed dry and tight suddenly. She felt a myriad of emotions at once: grief that Seamus had become someone that she almost didn't recognize at all, regret over their youth - lost irrevocably - at a time when they should be started new jobs, taking a holiday in a gap year, going on to university, finding a flat in London, and then anger - anger at what Voldemort had done to them, how he had forced their hand, how he had ripped all of this from their grasps before they had a chance to close their fingers around their futures. She allowed herself a moment of gratitude that Harry - somehow, almost inconceivably - seemed to retain his sense of self in a way that Seamus had not - imprinted on her mind's eye was Harry, hopping over his parents' garden wall, shovel in hand, to bury the enemy that had brought about the death of his mentor.
Then she thought of Parvati and Lavender, and a strangled sound issued involuntarily from her throat. She flushed and dropped her gaze, when everyone gathered round looked at her. Harry snaked his hand under the table, and clasped hers tightly, stroking the back of her hand with one thumb.
"The bottom line, then, is that we're running out of time, and quickly," Aberforth said, easing over the awkward tension. "So, we've come to make a decision - what happens next?"
"We don't have enough people to even think about a strike at Hogwarts," Tonks said. "People are scattered, missing, in hiding. I don't know how we can hope to round up enough trustworthy souls with stones enough to go after Voldemort when he's holed up in what is basically an impenetrable fortress." She sighed. "I wish Hagrid were here, but maybe it's lucky that he went to the continent before the battle started. I can't imagine how they'd get back into England - they certainly can't travel the Muggle way, and Grawp is not inconspicuous." If they're even still alive, went unspoken, but was obvious to everyone in the War Room. "We still don't even know how many Aurors were killed when the Ministry was overthrown, or how many were stranded on assignment somewhere, and that's assuming that most of them would want to fight Voldemort. We were lucky to find Thad," she shook her head at the memory of young Auror Brookhaven.
"We shouldn't take a lot of people," Ron spoke, at the same time as Seamus, who was also disagreeing with Tonks. "If they find out we're coming, he's just going to call as many clones as he can to rally round the castle."
"Ron's right," Seamus said. "We need a quick strike by a relatively small and mobile force. Is there anyway to find out how many Primes there are at Hogwarts?"
Harry, Hermione, and Ron exchanged a knowing glance.
"There's a way," Harry said. "How much does he know - about what we know, and what we're doing?" He spoke to Remus, but indicated with a tick of his head that he was referring to Seamus.
"He knows everything," Remus said evenly, meeting Harry's eyes squarely, as if measuring his response to this information. "Except where we are, how to get here… and what happened to you." Harry let go of Hermione's hand, and sat rigidly in the chair, every line in his body bespeaking tension. Hermione watched him pensively, her heart going out to him, as he obviously relived the ordeal yet again, though she couldn't help but be curious about exactly how Harry would describe it to an uninvolved third party. He cleared his throat noisily, and it sounded jarring in the cavern that was nearly silent, save for the serene sound of water.
"Voldemort captured me," Harry said shortly, his face strained and his eyes haunted. "The first day - during the Battle at Hogwarts. He took me to his family home, l - locked me in a cell, and - and tortured me for four days." He seemed to sag a little, and Hermione quickly reached out, to take his hand again, desperate to give him some kind of physical contact for support. Seamus' eyes seemed to glow with some kind of fiery zeal, and not a little curiosity.
"How did you escape?" he asked. Harry shook his head.
"Hermione rescued me. Portkeyed me out of there, right in front of Voldemort himself." His voice was ragged, but there was an unmistakable undertone of pride in his voice. Seamus turned to look at Hermione with renewed admiration, but Hermione waved off Harry's compliment.
"I was too late," she said evenly. "Voldemort had rigged up a dampening field that drained away Harry's magic. He was left completely helpless, like a - like a Muggle." She would not use the word `squib'.
Seamus looked at Harry, horrified. Hermione took cynical note that Seamus seemed more concerned about not having Harry as an asset than about what the lack of magic had actually done to Harry, but almost immediately took herself to task for thinking it. This is war, Hermione. Of course he's thinking in terms of assets and liabilities. Harry did the same thing.
"They found out that they could do magic together, though," Ron interjected awkwardly, startling nearly everyone. "Harry's been getting his magic back, slowly, even though no one thought he'd be able to."
"But I'm nowhere near being able to face Voldemort," Harry finished for him grimly. "And every day that goes by, he's - " He swore, and didn't finish his sentence. Hermione patted his hand in sympathy, watching him with eyes hooded under creased brows. Seamus' gaze was drawn to the movement of her hand, and he did a double take.
"And you - you two are married?" he asked hesitantly. Harry and Hermione exchanged glances and nodded. Hermione, for her part, did not miss Seamus' curious, but mercifully wordless, glance at Ron.
"Two days ago," Harry offered up awkwardly, and Seamus offered them his congratulations, which they accepted, somewhat self-consciously.
"You said - you said there was a way," Seamus redirected the conversation back to what they'd been discussing earlier. "What way?" Harry glanced at Ron, and jerked his head in the direction of the locked trunk in the corner, where the Marauder's Map now resided.
~~**~~
For one brief moment, Hermione saw Seamus as he had been, when she'd known him not so long ago at Hogwarts.
"Bloody hell," he said, impressed, as he watched the map ink itself with the whereabouts of everyone at Hogwarts. "I'd heard rumors that something like this existed, but I didn't think they were true." He half-smiled and shook his head. Hermione thought that he looked like he might have, in a happier time, taken Harry and Ron to task for keeping as delicious a thing as that map a secret. But Seamus was different now - they all were - and he did not say anything else, but immediately began scanning the map, as they pointed out the differences in the ink and what they signified.
"They seem to have free run of the castle…except for Neville," Ron said, looking at the lone dot in the Slytherin dungeons with chagrin. The group seemed to pause for an almost infinitesimal moment, as if some higher power had paused everything for a heartbeat.
"What are we going to do about Neville?" Hermione finally ventured, clearing her throat.
"Yes, what?" Ginny asked. Hermione thought fleetingly about the cloned Neville's tender behavior towards her, while she was in her coma. She wondered how much of it was fueled by real-Neville sentiment and how much was merely to gain access to the infirmary, where he had set up his Listening device.
"There's nothing we can do about him," Seamus said firmly. "He's down in the dungeons. There's no easy way to get there, and no easy escape once someone is down there. Anyone attempting to go after him could be trapped. The Death Eaters," he all but spat the name, "probably have him under heavy guard, hoping for just that situation."
"We can't just leave him there!" Hermione cried. "He's been a captive to Voldemort for four months!" Involuntarily, her eyes went to Harry, and his gaze dropped from her to his lap. She winced, not having wanted to remind him that he had once been in the same situation. She knew that Harry had identified with Neville ever since the prophecy revealed that their fates had been closely aligned. He looked at her again, and seemed to be internally debating something. Finally, he closed his eyes, and shook his head. Her heart sank.
"We can't risk the personnel," Harry finally said. "Almost all of those Death Eaters were in Slytherin. They'll know the dungeons better than we ever could, and - " He stopped, when Hermione suddenly hunched over the unfurled Marauder's Map, and began examining it carefully.
"Even though we have this?" she asked, and her eyes were bright with determination, looking much as she had the evening before a particularly intimidating exam. She snapped her head suddenly to the left, spearing Remus with a look. "Suppose we find your caved-in tunnel, Professor?" She tapped the map with a slender finger, hitting the first three letters in "Longbottom". "The entrance to the tunnel is not far from where they're keeping him."
"If you think we can find the other end, and get through it…" Harry said, conceding her point. Seamus didn't agree.
"It's still too risky. We don't know who's watching, what they've done to him. Suppose they have one of these?" He indicated the parchment on the table. "Suppose… they've turned him?"
"He wouldn't…" Harry said quickly, shaking his head. "Not Neville - not after his parents…"
"The clone was acting against you, wasn't he?"
"That's differ - " Ron tried to say, but Seamus barreled on.
"How exactly is it different? He was under outside influence, wasn't he? Who's to say Neville won't be the same? Under some kind of potion, or the Imperius? His cell could be sabotaged, warded, booby-trapped…"
"You don't know that!" Hermione nearly shouted, her voice coming out more shrilly than she would have liked.
"You haven't seen what I've seen!" Seamus yelled back, and the mask was dropped. In his eyes glittered vague and horrible remembrances of monstrosities committed in the name of Voldemort. "In … In Kent, there was a father - a half-blood who'd married a Muggle. The Death Eaters came after him, because his father had been killed in the first war against Voldemort. He tried to fight - to protect his wife and son - and fired a curse at them, and they reflected it back - not at him, but at his child. By the time we got close enough, they had dragged his pretty Muggle wife away. He turned his wand on himself, before we could stop him. Susan, Michael, and I managed to take down five of the Death Eaters, but I was too late to save the wife." He swallowed, and the muscles in his throat worked visibly. "Emotional attachments get you killed."
Seamus' words brought back unwelcome memories, as Hermione thought of the Muggles on the dais at the rally, staring at the roiling, jeering crowd without comprehension, the body of the little girl in Godric's Hollow, Harry clutching the screaming baby in the ruins of a Scottish town, Malfoy's crumpled, bloody body laying at Harry's and her feet, Harry watching in horror as Voldemort slit the throat of a girl who looked just like her.
"We've seen our share of horrors, Seamus," Harry said in a tired voice. "But sentiment is what keeps us from being Death Eaters. If we can find that tunnel, and make it into the Hogwarts' dungeons undetected, then we will try and save Neville. Don't tell me you wouldn't give your life for one of your team, if you had to."
The two men stared at each other for a moment, and Seamus said,
"In a heartbeat." Harry seemed to search for something in Seamus' face, and he must have found it, for he answered,
"Good. Then we understand each other."
~~**~~
Hermione eyed the edge of the cave dubiously, where water, tinted by the smooth gray walls, floor, and ceiling of the cavern, looked uncomfortably clear and icy cold. She knew that the water would change to a cloudier murk, when they were out in the silty body of the main lake. Harry caught her glance.
"Are you sure you're up to this?" he asked, his eyes going solicitously to her bandaged arms. She nodded.
"Madam Pomfrey water-proofed them," she responded, looking at the bandages so she wouldn't have to look at him.
"You don't have to go," he said, obviously not buying for a second the excuse that her arms were the reason she was concerned. "I know you're not comfortable with - " He gestured out at the placid water, rather than finishing his sentence.
"I'm fine, Harry," she said acerbically. "Besides, you need me in case you lose your Bubblehead charm." They were traveling in groups of two: she and Harry, Remus and Tonks, and Seamus and Ron. They would be relying on Remus' memory - over two decades old - of about how far the tunnel went before the cave-in, and where exactly it would be located. Hermione worked her lower lip between her teeth as she gazed at the water, her brow wrinkling in concentration. When she looked up, Harry was regarding her quizzically. She smiled at him self-consciously. "Just… thinking," she said.
"Really?" he replied in mock surprise. When she narrowed her eyes at him, he hastened to explain, reaching out to tuck an unruly lock of hair behind her ear, as he did so. "You don't think I know most of your expressions by now, Hermione?" She swayed more closely to him.
"I may surprise you yet, Mr. Potter," she said breathily, feeling her eyes start to flutter closed.
The moment was lost when the other four joined them at the mouth of the cavern, and Harry and Hermione slid quickly apart, avoiding each other's eyes, as well as Ron's.
"All right," said Remus, evidently intent on pretending he had seen nothing. "The tunnel comes south out of the Hogwarts' dungeons, and skirts along the shore of the lake for awhile, before finally going beneath it. I'm not entirely sure why. The cave-in should be as it draws near to the shore again - it really almost doubles back on itself. I suppose the flooded part would be all that lies below the water level - could be as much as two hundred or three hundred meters. What we're looking for would be any kind of crack or chasm opening. If you see something that looks promising, send out the signal." His eyes tripped over the five other faces listening intently. Hermione had taught them all a charm that would send out a series of dulcet tones, almost like those of a flute, since sparks did not travel well through water. A trail of stationary colored bubbles would mark a trail back to the one who'd cast the charm. "There aren't any lethal threats that we know of, but it would not be wise to investigate anything alone."
Hermione felt a small shudder run over her frame as she thought of willingly poking into any dark underwater crevice with Merlin only knew what inside. She noted that Ron appeared about as eager as she.
"We won't be near the undersea city, so the mer-people most likely won't be a problem, but if they are, Harry or I should be able to sort them out," Remus added. Harry's face was set and determined, and she took comfort from it. He placed one hand on the small of her back, and extended the other arm to the lake.
"Shall we?"
The close-fitting clothing they wore carried built-in Warming charms, but Hermione couldn't refrain from drawing in a noisy breath between barely parted teeth when she stepped into the frigid water, padding in on the rubber soled flippers into which they'd all transfigured their normal footwear. When the water reached their waists, and the ceiling of the cavern was less than an arm's length above their heads, she stopped and turned toward him. She felt his hand clasp hers beneath the water-line, and she smiled gratefully as she cast the Bubblehead charm on them both.
The world around her instantly became distorted, as if she were viewing everything through a fish-eye lens. The air seemed somehow stale, and her breathing sounded harsh and noisy in her ears. She nodded at Harry, squeezing his hand once, before they both plunged beneath the surface of the lake.
It was odd, she thought, faintly feeling the enveloping sensation of the water on every part of her save that from the neck up. The bubble shimmered and wobbled gelatinously as she moved, and Harry's voice sounded tinny and far away when he spoke.
"Watch out for grindylows," he cautioned her. "I might be able to manage Relashio, but I wouldn't want to stake everything on it." Something dark glided wraith-like on the periphery of her vision, and she started, until she realized that it was Remus and Tonks, veering away from them to check the portion of the lake nearest to the cave, along the eastern shoreline, where the tunnel had been known to run. She and Harry had the middle section on the same side, while Ron and Seamus would investigate the area nearest to Hogwarts.
The underwater world was eerie and silent, with strange shapes lifting and floating lightly with the movement of the lake itself. Not much could be seen beyond their immediate surroundings, and Remus and Tonks had quickly faded from view. As she and Harry slowed their swim, and began to examine the lake floor more thoroughly, Seamus and Ron passed them - Seamus nodding at them matter-of-factly - and had soon vanished from sight as well. Hermione kept one wary eye out for the insidious little water demons, but felt oddly bereft, strangely alone in this alien place. She wanted to reach out and grab Harry's hand, but restrained herself, trying to calm herself with the reassurance of his mere presence.
The floor of the lake rose up sharply in front of them like a slanted wall, studded with rocks, water plants, and the occasional discarded item. At the height of the earthen structure, she could just begin to see a paler gray-blue shade to the water, as it was brightened by the sun, and she realized with some astonishment that she hadn't seen daylight in more than three days.
"We could be easier to see if we're in the shallows, if anyone happened to be looking," Harry said. His bubble rippled as he spoke. "But if the tunnel hugs the shoreline, that's where the cave-in probably is, as well. The water's murky enough, where we'll probably be fine, as long as we stay near the bottom. Keep an eye out."
Hermione knew what he meant. The shallows - called that, even though they got as deep as thirty or forty feet before steeply dropping off - were thickly festooned with underwater plant growth, which would make crevices difficult to see - and which grindylows loved.
"Let's go, then," she said, amazed that her voice still sounded normal to her, when Harry's sounded so faint.
They began their ascent toward the sun.
~~**~~
After what seemed like days of searching in an endless sea of fluttering underwater plants, Hermione was exhausted. She had renewed their Bubblehead charms twice, and even though only the gentlest kicks seemed to send them skimming almost effortlessly through the water, she suddenly felt like all her bones had turned to liquid. Exhaustion was seeping into her very marrow, and she knew it wouldn't be long before Harry noticed it. Grindylows had darted and flashed quickly in and out of view twice, but they appeared to recognize Harry - even from years earlier - and either the sight of him, or their wands, or both, was enough to make them keep their distance.
"Hermione, are you - " Harry began, and she steeled herself for his gentle rant, but he never finished. "What the hell?" His tone was one of quiet mystification, and he left her side to pick up something from the silken soft dirt layering the lake floor. She saw it glinting between his fingers, as he moved to rejoin her, but something else caused him to arrest his motion.
"Hermione? Hermione, I think this might be it. Come here." There was excitement evident in his tinny voice, and she swam down to his side. There, almost screened with a particularly thick growth of vegetation, the lake floor rose up sharply again, presenting them with a smaller version of the "wall" they had scaled earlier. In the curve, where the floor sloped upward was a mound of rocks, faintly resembling an underwater cairn. Comparing it to the surrounding topography, Hermione surmised that the pile had at one time been one solid boulder, and had been smashed into rubble. If it made up part of the tunnel wall, its destruction could have brought about the cave-in and the subsequent flooding of the tunnel. She used her wand to lift one smallish rock experimentally out of the way, and saw, not the earth of the lake floor, but blackness. "Send the signal," Harry said, exchanging excited and relieved glances.
"What was it you picked up?" Hermione asked curiously, as the pure notes sounded ethereally in the water like haunting sea-song. She watched as two trails of golden bubbles materialized, one from the north and one from the south, moving from beyond her field of vision back toward her.
Harry grinned boyishly, and held out his hand. Something gold winked at her from his palm, and she reached out to take it. It appeared to be part of a Muggle money clip, or perhaps a key fob from which the ring had been detached. It had obviously been underwater for quite some time, and the plating was discolored and nearly gone. Hermione had to brush at the surface for a moment, before she could make out the engraving. D. C. She looked at Harry uncomprehendingly, and his smile grew broader.
"I'll have Seamus give it to him," he said simply, and then she realized to whom it had belonged.
"Do you reckon he missed it after falling off the boat before his Sorting feast?" she asked teasingly, and he grinned reminiscently, though there was a hint of sadness behind his smile. She proffered the article back to him, and he tucked it carefully into a zippered pocket.
Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione spotted a dark shape that separated itself into two as it drew nearer. She kept her wand ready, until she saw for sure that it was Remus and Tonks.
"What have you got?" Remus asked eagerly. Harry indicated the haphazard mound of rock, and they began to dislodge more of the pile, Remus with his wand, and Harry manually, the water facilitating his movement of the heavy stone. Tonks was keeping watch, wand out, and Hermione looked around anxiously.
"Why didn't Ron and Seamus come?" she asked Tonks sotto voce. The Auror's hair glowed pink and shimmering beneath her Bubblehead charm.
"They could have just had more distance to cover than Remus and me," Tonks said reassuringly. But Hermione noticed that her eyes roved more often to the north, in the direction from which Seamus and Ron were to come.
She turned back to Harry and Remus, half-fearful that uncovering the tunnel would suck them into darkness, before realizing that the lake and tunnel would have reached equilibrium with each other long ago. The hole was large enough to accommodate a couple of people side by side, and Harry appeared to be arguing for immediate entrance. Remus shook his head, and she could barely hear his voice.
"Let's wait for Seamus and Ron. We'll have to be careful… this is the side of the cave-in leading away from Hogwarts, and we don't know where it will come out."
To release some of her slowly building anxiety, Hermione sounded the spell again. A second stream of sparkling bubbles joined the first. Almost immediately thereafter, she saw them, as she'd seen Remus and Tonks, a dark shape unified by the obscuring water, then becoming more defined.
This set of shapes was moving in a much more lurching fashion than had the others. Hermione strained her eyes, and thought she saw a reddish tint to the water around them. One hand went to her mouth, and she had a moment of bewilderment when her palm encountered the bubble instead of her lips.
"Tonks - " she said woodenly, her eyes fixed on the approaching duo. The Auror turned, and Hermione saw her eyes widen in alarm, as she observed the same thing Hermione had. They exchanged a fleeting glance, and sprang into action, swimming toward Seamus and Ron.
Seamus was swimming, his hands clenched tightly around Ron, who appeared to be floating in and out of consciousness. Blood was trailing from him, first leaving furling scarlet ribbons in the water that then faded into pinkish clouds.
"They attacked us - there had to have been two or three dozen of them," Seamus was breathless, and paused to heft Ron more securely under his arms. Tonks moved to his side to help support Ron's bulk between them. "Ron lost his Bubblehead charm. They set on him when he was trying to recast. They're coming."
Hermione didn't have to ask what Seamus was talking about. Mer-people would not attack so far from their city without provocation. Even as her lips formed around the word "grindylow", she saw the churning of the water as they came. A high-pitching shrieking chatter reached her ears.
"Damn," Tonks said, in a kind of swearing sigh. "Remus, it's grindylows," she called out behind her, and the other two looked up.
"Ron!" Harry wheezed in alarm, as he noted the cloud of blood that permeated the water around the other four. Remus looked grim.
"The blood is only going to stir up others. This whole area is going to be swarming with grindylows momentarily."
"Then we should get out of here," Tonks said. "Ron needs medical attention anyway." Remus shook his head.
"We've got to block up this tunnel. If the grindylows find it, they'll infest it. It could be weeks before we could clear it out enough to use it."
"We don't have weeks!" Seamus said.
"We could get inside, and block it up that way," Harry suggested.
"Blocking yourself inside a tunnel when you don't know where it goes is rather risky," Remus said.
"We should have brought more than just your medallion, Tonks," Hermione shook her head grimly. "I know we'd have risked losing them, but it was a mistake."
"There was no way to know that the grindylows would attack in force," Remus argued. "That's not really their way, and there was nothing else to fear in the lake."
"Bodies," Seamus said succinctly, and the others looked at him in confusion. "We saw bodies - Ron and I - near the boating gate that leads into Hogwarts." Tonks appeared to understand what he was getting at.
"If the Death Eaters have been throwing bodies into the Lake, and the grindylows have been feeding on them…"
"Those bastards have been giving them a taste for human flesh," Harry said in a disbelieving voice.
The grindylows had now drawn too close for further discussion. Seamus thrust Ron at Harry, and turned to face them, wand at the ready. Remus motioned for Hermione to join Harry and Ron by the tunnel entrance.
"It's up to you to keep them safe," he said. "Harry may not be able to do much to help you, but he can at least get that tunnel closed up. Ron's blood is going to draw them. We'll stay in front." Hermione nodded, swallowing hard, and moved down to the tunnel with Harry. They situated Ron as close to the tunnel mouth as they dared, and Hermione cast an Anchoring charm on his left foot. Harry began to move the rocks as quickly as he could, with Hermione occasionally aiding him, but mostly watching for grindylows. Every now and then, a curse flashed from her wand in a white-hot stream of boiling water.
The grindylows were everywhere. One on one, they might have been no match for even a Hogwarts student, but this was like nothing Hermione had ever seen or imagined. Seamus had said two or three dozen, but the writhing, zipping number now had to be at least two or three times that. They darted everywhere, little lethal barbs of green lightning, tipped with razor sharp claws and teeth.
There were a few beginning to breach the line that Remus, Tonks, and Seamus had formed, but Hermione managed to dispatch them quickly, all the while casting anxious glances at Harry's progress blocking the tunnel, and checking Ron.
Her first indication that something was wrong was Tonks head flinging backwards in a shimmering pink arc that caught her eye immediately. Remus turned toward her in alarm, as her charm burst. Blood frothed in the spray of bubbles, as Remus tried vainly to recast the charm, while Seamus worked alone to fend off the grindylows.
And then everything seemed to happen at once.
Hermione saw the shiny glint of the medallion, as it floated away from Tonks' neck, falling in slow motion, so slowly that it seemed to mock Hermione, to vanish in the silt and vegation of the lake bottom.
"Remus! The medallion!" She shrieked, but the werewolf had no time to visibly react to her cry. He had just recast Tonks' charm, and was fiendishly trying to keep the grindylows from overrunning Seamus.
This is ridiculous. We're the Order of the Phoenix, and we're going to drown in the Lake after being utterly worsted by water demons! That was the last coherent thought Hermione had for some time, as she heard Harry's hoarse cry,
"Hermione!" She had just enough to look up before two impossibly fast blurs slammed into each arm, pushing her through and over Ron, and pinioning her into the earthen bank, just to the right of the darkness leading into the tunnel. Incredible pain shot up both arms, as claws gripped tender, newly healed flesh. She heard Harry swear violently, as he abandoned the tunnel, and ripped one grindylow off of her by one pointed ear.
Then there was a third coming at them, and a fourth. Hermione noted with horror that when she had collided with Ron, the bleeding had increased. The water stained slowly, inexorably.
They were drawing attention.
Harry seemed to be doing well enough, but was going to be outmatched very soon by sheer numbers alone. Even as she managed to blast one or two of them back, it seemed there were always more to take their place. She saw Remus Summon the medallion, and grab for Tonks, shouting for Seamus, then pivoting to shout for Harry.
She saw Harry shake his head at Remus.
"Go!"
Remus tried to Summon Ron, but the Anchoring charm held firm. She couldn't be sure, but she thought that one of the bones in Ron's lower leg snapped.
"Remus!" She tried to call, her voice sounding pathetically small under the Bubblehead charm. She tried to ignore the sight of her own blood drifting in front of her. "The Anchoring charm. Undo the - "
Another grindylow hurtled itself at her, and the resulting collision caused the wall immediately adjacent to the opening to fail. She fell backwards in a mass of earth and rock and wiry little bodies. Her vision was completely obscured by the swirling silt, but it seemed that, by some miracle, her Bubblehead charm was intact.
"Hermione!" she dizzily heard Harry's panicked voice. "Oh, God! Hermione!"
She had dropped her wand, but managed to fling the one grindylow that appeared to be unfazed by the fall off of her, where it scrambled around, as disoriented as she by the murky darkness.
"Harry," she called back. "I - I think I'm all right. Get Ron, and get in here quickly. This may be our only way out."
There was no answer, but the scuffle outside continued with ferocity, and, as the silt began to resettle, she could see a vague outline against the open mouth of the tunnel. Something surged toward her, and she realized that it was Ron, heaved toward her by Harry, still unconscious. It was a mercy, she thought, as she observed the sickeningly cock-eyed angle of his leg.
Then she saw Harry's silhouette, as he clambered through the tunnel mouth, and began to hastily fill in the tunnel. Hermione Summoned her wand, and aimed a few Relashios toward the entrance, but was more afraid of hitting Harry. Water rippled and rocks and silt flew, as Harry desperately tried to block up the hole and fend off the grindylows, alternating between physical and magical means as best he could.
Finally, Hermione saw the last chink of lighter water wink out, as the gap was filled with a rock, and she sensed, rather than saw, Harry swing heavily in the direction in which he'd last seen her.
"Hermione?" he inquired.
"Lumos!" she replied. A blue-white light burst forth from her wand, and Harry blasted the last straggling grindylow that had made it inside with them. They hefted Ron between them, and gazed with some trepidation on the water-filled tunnel that twisted downward into darkness.
TBC
Okay, don't anybody be too picky about my physics with the flooded tunnel. I don't think that something like that would drain the lake like a bathtub, but I'm not entirely sure.
Hope you enjoy this chapter. We'll find out how everyone fared in the next one. You may leave a review on your way out, if you like.
lorien
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