Hermione became aware that she'd been found when comforting arms wrapped around her. Harry had joined her on the ground.
"Hermione," he exclaimed in concern. "What happened?"
She forced the words out thickly. "Viktor's in love with me."
Actually saying the words out loud seemed to produce more tears, and by the time she was just sniffling slightly, almost twenty minutes had passed. She conjured a handkerchief so that she could wipe her eyes, blow her nose, and regain some semblance of control.
Harry had weathered the storm very stoically, rocking her back and forth soothingly, petting her hair, and even coming up with a whole string of reassuring-sounding nonsense. Knowing how little he had been comforted in his life, she was touched by his effort and efficacy.
It was only as she was Vanishing the used piece of cloth that it occurred to her to ask, "What are you doing up here?"
Harry rolled his eyes. "The castle likes you. All the lights kept going out in the common room. Draco and I would relight them, and they'd just go out again. Draco thought maybe it was an indication that we were supposed to be engaged in activities that could be done in the dark." She left out a soft laugh, and he smiled at her. "But I didn't think that was likely since I knew that it would take a hell of a lot to get through our wards. So we finally went out into the corridor, and one direction was lit and the rest dark. We're not completely stupid, so I put myself back on the Map and told Draco to keep an eye out and then I followed the lights, found that the staircases had all been rearranged for me, and ended up here."
She splayed her hand across the stone surface and mentally projected her gratitude.
"Actually," Harry added, "he's supposed to call out the guard if I'm not back in a half hour, so...?"
She nodded, and he sprang to his feet so that he could reach down and pull her up as well. She pulled him closer and held him in a proper hug.
"Thank you."
She felt him nod. She released her charms as they headed down the stairs, wondering what rumours were likely to be spawned by her and Harry's descent from the tower at such a late hour; she doubted that either of them looked happy and well-shagged, but the gods only knew what sort of daft theories could be invented about Harry leaving her miserable and in tears. It was a tragic love triangle in the making, no doubt.
Back in the common room, they found a twitchy Draco who leapt up as soon as Harry entered.
"Where have you been? I mean, I know where you've been because I saw you on the Map, but what were you doing up there?" He finally seemed to register her and winced visibly, asking, "What happened?"
Harry refused to let her answer that question until she'd been to the loo to splash water on her face and refresh herself. By the time she'd returned to the common room, he'd made her tea which he served to her as he insisted that she sit down. He was acting as though she couldn't take care of herself, but the solicitude was actually making her feel a bit better.
Trying not to think about it too hard in order to ensure that she didn't start crying again, she explained what had happened to Draco.
The expression on his face was a very strange one, but his feelings became clearer as he asked, "Why is it so bad that he's confessed he loves you?"
She stared at him incredulously. "Would you be happy if Pansy confessed that she was in love with you? Or if Ron confessed that he was in love with you, Harry?"
Harry and Draco made very similar expressions of distaste.
"That's just—" they began.
"Wrong?" she asked pointedly. "Then why on Earth would you assume that I wanted one of my friends to declare his love for me when you know I'm not in love with him?"
"I thought you could—" Draco started.
"What?" she demanded, tea sloshing over the side of her mug in the violence of her hand gesture, and she had to spell away the mess. "Lead him on? Pretend I loved him?"
"No!" Harry protested, jumping to Draco's defence. "Just—"
"Turn off my feelings for Severus?" she said more quietly, lips twisted. "Just decide that I was really in love with Viktor?"
"Okay, so it sounds daft when you say it like that," Harry admitted, "but we only meant—"
She let out a huff of breath. "To give me a happy ending, I know. But you can't force that. Some things are meant to be, and others are not; Viktor and I were never meant to be together."
"But he loves you," Harry protested.
"Maybe," she answered, shrugging slightly. Wondering rather frantically what he saw in her was something that she'd definitely done recently. "I suspect that he really loves the idea of me. I see past his status. I'm smart. We have a good time when were together."
"These sounds like good points," Draco noted mildly.
She nodded, realizing another tactic would be necessary to get her point across. "Oh, they are. And if we keep going, I'm sure we can think of loads of things we have in common. We could have long discussions about potion theories, Arithmancy equations, and the latest in Defence tactics. I would attend all his matches and host his Quidditch friends since I'm so enamoured of the sport. I'd move to Bulgaria, obviously, because I've always wanted to live there, and maybe I could even travel with the team because that's what every supportive wife who loves Quidditch and her husband would do."
Two identically blank stares met hers as she finally wound to a halt. The two boys exchanged glances, looked back to her, and spent a long moment making various shapes with their mouths that didn't involve words emerging.
It wasn't quite as bad as she'd made it seem, of course; it was true that opposites could attract and make fine and happy matches. But she'd needed a strong image to get this notion out of their brains.
"You're totally wrong for one another," Harry finally managed.
She nodded. "It might sound romantic, opposites attracting, but there still have to be points of commonality and strong feelings, or I don't believe it's going to work. I'm happy to spend time with him, but I'm not in love with him, and we'd drive one another out of our minds in short order. He wouldn't always want to sit and watch me brew. I couldn't put up with night after night about Quidditch. We were never supposed to be anything except friends."
Draco was frowning fiercely. "I made this worse."
Shrugging faintly, she made a slight shake of her head. "It needed to happen. He built me up into something I wasn't back in fourth year, and it's better he knows once and for all now. It's time for him to move on." She offered Draco a smile. "You'll have to apologize to Pansy, though; I did invite her."
The Slytherin winced, and Hermione privately hoped that Pansy chewed his ear off for his scold. Given that Hermione had been the one to drag the Slytherin girl off to be a third wheel in a romantic meal for two, there was at least one more apology that needed to be made. No wonder Pansy had looked so uncomfortable as Hermione had lived in her world of denial.
But it was better this way, she reminded herself resolutely. She'd been brutally clear, and it was safer for both her and Viktor that there was no possible room for misinterpretation or a change of heart. If it meant the loss of their friendship, she would simply have to accept that. She honestly hadn't meant to string him along, but she realized now that the situation had continued for too long; she had been greedy for his friendship, had been complacent when she should have faced facts and let him cut his losses before it got this far.
It wasn't much later before she called it a night, assuring the boys that there were no hard feelings for the part they had played in setting her and Viktor up. They hadn't meant it maliciously, and what was done, was done.
Five hours later, she'd slept for a bit and visited her herd where she had been soothed by their incredulity that even a human could be stupid enough to think that anyone but Severus could be her mate. Castina might not have entirely approved the choice, but she understood that it was Hermione's to make—as much as falling in love was anybody's choice, anyway.
Sunday evening at seven, Hermione began the next batch of Weresbane and tried not to think about how different this batch would be without her nightly visits from Viktor. There was no doubt in her mind that they would not be repeated, and she tried to remind herself why it had never been necessary for her to have company before.
She was halfway through making the base when she realized that what she wanted wasn't company but a partner, preferably in the form of a snarky, sarcastic git. Since getting Severus into her lab to work companionably with her was impossible, she had settled for the next best thing. Letting out a gusty breath, she resolved that she'd do everything she could to ensure that Viktor never found out the degree to which she had made him her Severus substitute; he deserved much better than that. It would be brilliant if Severus never found out, either, as she was certain he would mock her mercilessly.
Fortunately, over the next few days, she didn't have too much time to think about Severus or Viktor and the great big mess that was her love life. All she did was brew, study, and attend classes. She was as determined as she could possibly be that the second part of her Weresbane trial go much more smoothly than the first one had. Given how pear-shaped the first had been, she was equally determined to get all her work done before the full moon arrived just in case. Since she was about to try to cure nine werewolves and assist thirty-odd werewolves in retaining their human minds while they transformed, she was working with a lot of variables.
The break started on Thursday, and Harry and Draco made sure to tell her that that was no doubt why Viktor hadn't come for their regularly scheduled tea and discussion. It hadn't helped that Ron had asked after the Bulgarian multiple times.
Viktor hadn't spoken one word to her since Saturday. It was less than a week since she had rejected him, and her knowing that she'd made the right choice didn't negate Viktor's feelings. Unfortunately, there was no reasonable way for her to point out to him how fortunate he was that she'd tried to make it as painless as possible instead of shagging him and then tossing him out on his ear—but she wasn't supposed to be thinking about Severus.
She hadn't had any contact with him over the last week, either, beyond the regular attendance in class. There had been no training sessions since the one that had ended with Harry saving her from her own stupidity, and since she'd walked out on Severus over the plan to inform Voldemort, there were no more private interactions. Apparently, he really was going to make his own plan to inform Voldemort and not consult with her at all.
She still thought this was stupid, but taking a calming breath, she reminded herself yet again that he'd been a spy for years and knew what he was doing. If there was information that the Order needed to know, he would inform them. Or for all she knew, he was making sure that any instances of corroboration were being given by Draco or … Neville, even, just not her. It was clear that he didn't want her involved in anything that had to do with him.
Besides, she had plenty of stress in her own life without borrowing any from his. The Weresbane and Wolfsbane Potions were done by just before ten o'clock Friday morning. The drink window didn't actually begin until twelve hours later, but this schedule had been the only practical one to work around her classes.
She drafted Draco to distract Harry and then hurried the potion over to the safe house as soon as it was done. She was going to be back Saturday morning to actually administer the potion and monitor for side effects.
Minerva had asked to attend once more, and although Hermione had made a half-hearted effort to dissuade her, she had given in at the Scottish woman's insistence. Harry and Ron had both been barred from attending; between what had happened last time and the fact that there were transformed werewolves on the full, Molly and Albus were particularly firm in their resolve to keep them out of harm's way.
There had been the beginnings of an effort on Molly's part to keep Hermione and Draco away, as well, but Hermione had merely crossed her arms, raised her eyebrows, and said that of course if they didn't actually want the werewolves to be cured, she could sit at the castle and wait for the moon to set. That had been the end of that argument.
Remus had made a similar effort with Tonks, apparently, but since she was an adult and an Auror and not subject to anyone's rules but her own, she'd just told him to bugger off. Hermione and Draco had grinned at her, and Minerva had sniffed, her disapproval of Remus's attitude clear. But it was hard sometimes, Hermione knew, to care about and want to protect courageous and independent people.
The werewolves were all in their cells when the Hogwarts contingent arrived, prepared to settle in for the day once they'd taken their potion. The tension in the air was palpable, and Hermione knew that it was more than just the normal pre-moon jitters. Between actually seeing the cure occurring in front of them and remembering what had happened on the new moon, there was a lot of worry going around but people were on their best behaviour.
The children were quiet and obedient. No one was arguing or complaining that they couldn't spend a few more hours upstairs. There wasn't a single mention of how bad the Wolfsbane tasted.
The nine werewolves who took the Weresbane didn't complain, either, sitting down obediently for Hermione's test period, minutely detailing what they felt in an apparent effort to prove to her that there wasn't a single thing that was wrong or that might delay the next step.
It was a little bit stifling, actually, but Hermione understood what they were trying to do and was unwilling to chastise them for it. Given how many hours there were until the moon rose, she made sure to spend time with both groups of werewolves, reading again to the children and showing them how to play Muggle games like "I Spy" or "Animal, Mineral, Vegetable" which could go on even through their separate cells as long as Hermione suspended the wards that prevented sound from travelling between cells.
She checked on the comfort of the adults, discussed books, career choices, favourite memories at Hogwarts, anything that seized their imagination and didn't directly relate to what was going to happen tonight.
Remus and Draco spent most of their time with the nine Weresbane testers, reminding them of what it was going to be like to be trying to transform into their Animagus form rather than their werewolf one at six forty three that evening.
Bill made it in at dinner time having had to work during the day. Hermione rejoined the Weresbane group after that, the eldest Weasley having agreed to keep an eye on the werewolves who were making the regular transformation.
Settling herself in front of the nine, she asked for them to change shape so that the Animagus transformation would be extremely fresh in their minds when they transformed in all of an hour.
Hermione smiled at them, preparing to explain everything one final time. "I'm sure Remus and Draco have said already." Minerva and Tonks were listening closely. "This hurts a great deal. Worse than any transformation you've experienced before. I'm not telling you to frighten you," she continued, "but because I want you to be prepared for what's coming.
"The Acuity Charm will help you become more sensitive to minute changes, so you feel the difference between the wolf and the Were. It's necessary psychologically to help you fight off the Were which the wolf and your magic are trying to do anyway. It's going to take every bit of effort of which you are capable to accomplish this. The unfortunate part is that the Acuity Charm makes everything sharper, and that includes the pain of the transformation.
"What you need to remember is that this will be the last painful transformation you need ever make. You're feeling this pain and suffering because you want to be cured, and this is the way to accomplish it. I'm going to be right here with you every step of the way."
Me, too.
She'd wondered just how long he was going to pretend he wasn't there.
You really shouldn't let Minerva, Remus, or Molly see you.
He sent her a mental nod and brushed an invisible hand across her back fleetingly. Or Draco.
Probably, she agreed. I don't think it'll surprise him, though.
Really?
He knows you very well. Just keep hidden, and then no one can complain that you were in danger; no one else will know that you're here.
You've got it, he said cheerfully.
But you're staying on this side of the wards where no werewolf can get at you no matter what, right? she cautioned.
He nodded. I don't actually want to be in danger, I just can't let you and Draco and Remus keep going through this when I don't really know what it's all about.
She moved her head fractionally in agreement. She did know, and that's why she'd not said anything when he had followed them. In his place, she would likely have done the same, a fact which he had probably guessed.
"You're all going to be caged," she continued to the werewolves sitting around her. "I have every faith in my potions and my abilities, but I've got a lot of people to keep safe here, and that means we're not taking unnecessary chances."
Given the freedom that had been exploited last meeting, they all understood this.
"Unlike at the new moon, this can't be done in stages. As the moon rises, you'll all feel as though you're being forced to change just like normal. The crucial difference, however, is that when you fight the transformation this time, you will succeed." Some of them looked surprised that she knew that they fought regularly. But her heart had broken the first time she had seen Remus transform back in her third year, and she knew how much every one of them here hated it. "You are going to fight back successfully against the Were as you've all wanted to do for so long, and you're each going to change into you Animagus form: it's as simple as that."
They all nodded at her, wanting to believe it as desperately as she did.
The minutes ticked by, everyone growing more jittery.
"I wonder what Harry's doing right now," Draco said, seemingly offhand.
"Probably waiting anxiously just like us," Hermione answered with as straight a face as she could manage.
Remus took up her comment in the obvious way. "It can't be easy for him, stuck at the castle while we're all here."
"Hmm," Draco agreed, a slight frown marring his brow now, and she wondered if he'd already guessed the truth.
After all, when did Harry ever stay home when his friends were in potential danger? She didn't particularly want to deal with the type of explosive confrontation that would result if he were found out, however, so she would hope that the rest of them remained clueless.
At six, they got the nine werewolves sorted away into their cages. Kingsley arrived, and Hermione made certain that he and Bill felt they could handle watching all the werewolves. They assured her once again that they would be fine, and she cast all the final protective barriers. The stairs were now warded so that no one could get up or down without her express permission. The Wolfsbane and Weresbane werewolves were separated with a soundproofed barrier because Hermione didn't want either group to be distracted. She was once again the only one who'd be able to hear through the barrier from this side, but she had respected the wishes of the others and not put up barriers for those they were standing in front of; they were here to assist where they could and witness what they could not share in.
She activated the full wards between the nine Weresbane candidates and the people she needed to protect. In the unlikely chance that any of the werewolves escaped their floor-to-ceiling cages, there would be extensive wards that they would have to get through before they could harm anyone who was standing on the outside with her. Everything was in place.
The hairs on the back of Hermione's neck rose as she heard the whine go up behind her. The moon was upon them. Bodies stretched taut and vocal chords were abused; howls swept through the room. It was still the most terrifying noise Hermione had ever heard, made even worse because the nine in front of her were fighting for the rest of their lives as they experienced especially horrendous pain.
She wasn't sure if it was the fact that there were so many more of them or maybe that she didn't know them the way she had known Remus and Draco, but just looking at them, she couldn't sense their progress very well. Without hesitation, she reached out mentally for their minds.
The pain drove her to her knees, and she distantly heard the exclamations of the others at about the same time that she realized the only reason she hadn't fallen right over was because she was being bolstered by an invisible person.
Desperately drawing in deep lungfuls of air, she demanded with power that could not be ignored, Look at me!
One by one, the writhing bodies twisted until they could peer at her through bloodshot eyes.
You are Animagi, she told them with all the strength of her magic and her conviction behind the words. You are wolves. You are humans!
They clung to her mentally, and she watched them fight, felt them fight, heard Remus and Draco chanting out loud and joined in the refrain that they had used last time.
Wolf, wolf, wolf, wolf.
As suddenly as it had started, it stopped. Nine wolves were on their bellies in front of her. Feeling as though she were a hundred years old, she rose unsteadily to her feet, aware that Harry was helping her once more, a reassuring presence at her back. Tonks and Minerva still looked horrified.
She smiled proudly at those in front of her. "Congratulations." Though her voice was faintly unsteady, the emotion behind it was rock solid. "You've done it."
Slowly, the nine rose off the ground as well, shaking themselves off and looking rather stunned, even in wolf form.
"I'm going to give you a few minutes to recover from that ordeal, and then you're going to change back into humans, all right?"
They nodded, the motion very human. All partook of the water from the dishes in their cages. Several curled up to rest for a few minutes, but most stayed on their feet. She took the opportunity to look back through her wards and ensure that the werewolves were all right. Bill and Kingsley were speaking quietly. The freckles stood out clearly on Bill's skin, and she knew they weren't going to forget what they had witnessed tonight anytime soon.
Harry helped her into a chair, and she recuperated marginally. It was all mental and magical for her rather than agonizingly physical as well, but it had left her feeling drained.
Still, though, she didn't feel much worse than she had when she had helped just Remus and Draco with Fawkes's assistance. She suspected she now knew why Fawkes had thought she'd be fine this time, though she probably didn't want to know how he had theorized when she would sleep with Severus and come into her power.
When it was time, she rose to her feet, and the wolves who'd been resting did the same. Draco and Remus stood up as well, and Minerva and Tonks followed their example.
"Alexander, Gary, Heather, Justin, Liam, Mary, Rafe, Varda, Willow." Hermione intoned their names solemnly. "It's time to become human."
They all met her eyes, and then she was no longer facing nine wolves but nine grinning humans. She grinned back, and Remus let out a whoop of delight, very like the one he had made when his own lycanthropy had been cured. Minerva's indulgent smile said that she remembered it, too.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Hermione declared as she beamed at them, "congratulations. You're no longer infected with lycanthropy."
There was a spontaneous round of applause, and then she explained to all of them what was going to happen next as they made sure the change had taken hold.
Everyone was too wired to sleep while they waited through the testing process, but the new regular humans were happy to chat about what it felt to be sitting there in human form. Several wanted to know about the mental connection that Hermione had made, and she explained as best she could without actually explaining why she could do it. Tonks and Minerva were amazed anew at the cure; the fact that they knew Hermione was one of the Pure Adults didn't appear to lessen their assessment of the achievement.
When the last person tested negative for lycanthropy, Hermione lowered her wards and fourteen humans—plus the Masked Harry—greeted Kingsley, Bill, and all the werewolves who'd stayed awake to see this outcome. There was immediately a resounding chorus of joyful yips, howls, and barks, and Hermione knew that they'd just provided a whole lot of hope to every person in the room. Standing here right now, she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that all she had gone through had been worthwhile.
She suggested that everyone who was now human head upstairs to either eat or sleep but was not terribly surprised when they rejected this plan. It was now almost one in the morning, so there were less than five hours left until the moon set; the others agreed unanimously to wait until they could eat with their friends who were still bound to the werewolf form.
Couches, chairs, blankets, and pillows were conjured as desired as everyone settled down for the rest of the night. They performed their periodic rounds to ensure that all the werewolves were in good shape. There was plenty to talk about now that eleven people had been cured of lycanthropy. Hermione, Remus, and Draco were quite happy to give further pointers to the Animagus wolves in preparation for their helping the next batch of test subjects; everyone was delightfully eager to assist.
Given the positive outcome of this trial, Hermione decided to be ambitious and go with her shorter timeline; she informed everyone that they would be curing the remaining werewolves in only two more trials. That would mean that they would all be cured by the tenth of June, and she'd have one less responsibility when it came time to kill Voldemort. Although she didn't make this point out loud, if she were killed, she'd like to die with the knowledge that she'd given assistance to all the werewolves—British werewolves, at least—who had asked for it.
She'd make sure to leave her notes in order should the worst happen, but she'd like to know that she personally hadn't left any loose ends that involved people's lives. Her cure was dangerous and involved patience and multiple steps, and she couldn't simply hand it out to anyone who asked; it would be much safer if its dissemination remained in her hands. Besides, she'd got to know these people, and she wanted to help all of them right now.
This meant that, with thirty-six people left, there'd be two groups of eighteen, which Remus and Draco took care to point out was twice the size of any group that she had attempted so far. She countered with the fact that there were now eleven people who'd experienced the cure plus Minerva and Harry who were Animagi and who had witnessed it. She was feeling very positive about their chances.
They were going to divide the children up, as they were the ones who would need the most help, and Hermione didn't want to have the seven of them making up more than a third of the last group. There were now plenty of people who could work one-on-one with them, and Hermione was going to attend to them especially for the actual transformation. It would be wise, she realized, to convince Albus that Harry should come along on the next full moon, as she might well need someone who could MindBond with her in case she couldn't handle that many people at once.
She was amused to find herself, as the night progressed, in an extended conversation with Mary about Ron. It seemed as though the redhead had made quite an impression on the woman, and since Hermione rarely knew the status of his and Lavender's relationship, she didn't discourage the Healer. She privately thought that they wouldn't be a particularly compatible match, but for all she actually knew, Mary was mad about Quidditch, Ron was ready to be grow up a bit, and they'd be perfect for one another.
Everyone remained downstairs at five thirty-four when the moon set to once again endure the pain of that transformation even if it was by proxy. The nine who had ceased to be under the moon's sway had looks of shock on their faces; they were standing outside the cages, human and whole, while the others suffered.
Hermione was sure that she was not the only one who was relieved that they were on a countdown to when they wouldn't have to hear the sound of that transformation ever again.
Now that the Easter hols had begun, she and Draco—and Harry, theoretically, if not really in practice—were officially allowed to be away from Hogwarts, so there was no need for them to hurry back to the school. They happily agreed to stay for the large communal breakfast.
By the time they were digesting, those who had been up all night were done in. All the adrenaline rushes were long over, tension had dissipated, and exhaustion had therefore set in. Since those who had come from the school preferred unanimously to return to their own beds, the students and professors Apparated back to Hogwarts. It mattered even less that they returned openly now because while there might still be Voldemort sympathizers at the castle, it was giving nothing away to reveal that they had been at their safe house on the full moon.
There was no sign of Severus as they returned this time, which pretty much figured since Hermione wasn't about to keel over from stress; naturally, he couldn't possibly demand her presence when everything had gone well or when she was in the presence of Minerva as well as Tonks.
The Head of Gryffindor made her way upstairs while the rest of them headed down, Tonks separating from them for the Hufflepuff territory while Hermione, Draco, and the invisible Harry headed towards their common room.
She dragged her heels a little, Draco looking at her a little oddly but politely slowing down, allowing Harry to get ahead of them and into the room first so that Draco wouldn't see the gargoyle disappear and re-form around someone who wasn't supposed to be there.
It would really have made more sense for Harry to have headed back before breakfast, but he had wanted to stay to the end, and since it was generally better when he was not travelling on his own, especially off the grounds, here they were.
Another half a corridor, and she and Draco arrived. Harry was sitting on the couch with a book in his hands.
He looked up and almost managed to look surprised before he said brightly, "Hi."
Her lip curled. "Hello, yourself." Mentally, she added, Your book is upside down.
He closed it immediately and tossed it aside as he rose to his feet.
"How are you, Draco?"
Draco was unbuttoning his cloak and eyeing Harry.
"I'm fine," he answered as he sent the cloak to hang on the hook by the wall with a wave of his wand.
"Good, good," Harry said, running a hand through his hair. "Everything went okay last night?"
"Fine," Draco answered in the same tone as before. "What were you up to while we were gone?"
For an instant, Harry looked nearly alarmed, but then he smiled and said, "Didn't get much useful done, I'm afraid. Kept thinking about all of you and couldn't really concentrate on much. Didn't want to bother anyone else, though, and get them all worked up about something that should go perfectly smoothly, so I mostly spent my time down here alone."
Hermione wondered what Harry had said to Ron to make sure that he didn't come down here last night.
"And yet you learnt how to read upside down?" Draco asked mildly.
Harry actually managed a relatively decent lie for this one. "Truthfully, I've been assuming you would come home for the last hour or so; I didn't want you to think I'd been totally desperate and pathetic, so I was trying to look occupied when you got back."
Draco shook his head slightly. "There's no need for you to pretend with me, Harry; you should know that."
The beginnings of guilt had sneaked onto Harry's face, but he merely nodded, seeming to feel he was a little deep in his story now to simply back out of it even after a line like that.
"Right," he agreed. "Did you, er, need tea or anything?"
Draco shook his head. "What I need right now is a bed. We didn't get any sleep and I'm beat." This was accompanied by a yawn that Hermione noticed Harry had to physically lock his jaw to keep from duplicating. "Do you mind if I sleep in your room for a few hours?"
Harry shook his head, but Hermione didn't have to be reading his mind to know that he was really wishing he could be in his bed sleeping with Draco. Unfortunately, since Harry had supposedly spent a normal night here, there was no need for him to have a nap this early in the morning.
Draco made it all the way to Harry's bedroom before he paused.
"For future reference," he drawled, "that would have been more convincing if you weren't wearing yesterday's clothes."
It took a minute for the words to sink in, and then Harry looked down at himself and the clothes that he'd been wearing since Saturday morning. He looked up with huge puppy-dog eyes, ones that indicated that he knew he'd done wrong but was really, really, sorry and really didn't want to be punished.
"You're angry with me?"
Draco rolled his eyes and crooked a finger. "Right now, I'm tired. Come to bed, idiot, and I'll yell at you later."
Harry bounded up, reminding Hermione of nothing so much as his godfather in that moment. She could practically see a tail wagging with frantic happiness.
Draco remembered to say goodnight to her, and Harry quickly echoed him. She waved them off before they could be any more idiotic and adorable. She wondered just how much Harry would get chastised once they'd slept.
She'd given up on the notion of having words with him herself. He'd made it home safely, and the fact of the matter was that they were the closest matched in terms of power and efficacy with MindMagic, though he still lacked much of her practice with the latter. If there was going to be someone at the safe house who could help with raw magic if she were incapacitated in some way, he was it.
Besides, she'd much rather he be in her safe house than that he be feeling left out and reckless at Hogwarts. Hopefully Draco would recognize this, although it probably wouldn't be a bad thing if Harry were chastised a bit by his boyfriend. Now that Harry's safety involved Draco's happiness and well-being, it was bound to have added value in Harry's mind.
Hermione hadn't been out to see her herd in over a week, not since Viktor's declaration, and she was beginning to feel a little drained. There were still plenty of upper-year students at Hogwarts studying for N.E.W.T.s and O.W.L.s, however, and between wanting to ensure nothing remarkable in her behaviour was noticed by any of them and wanting to be available should anyone have any problems—since Harry was definitely out of commission—she decided that a shower and a quick nap would do her for now. She'd go visit her herd tonight, once everyone was safely sleeping once more.
She felt as though she'd been in the same clothes forever, despite periodic Cleansing Charms, so she showered first, and it did much to revive her and make her feel human once more. She optimistically thought she was even awake enough now to do some useful work, but one look at her large, comfy-looking bed told her that what she really needed was some sleep. Being a unicorn Animagus didn't mean that she could give up on it entirely. Especially when she used a lot of her magic, she could still feel entirely sleep-deprived and desperately in need of a warm blanket and a pillow.
Two hours later, she awoke feeling refreshed. She moved to the common room to revise since all her Easter break papers were done. Ron still thought she was crazy, and even Harry had looked at her a little strangely, but she was just pleased that the work was out of the way now. As it was, there was every possibility that she would be counselling panic-stricken students who had decided they were going to fail at all their classes, and she wanted all her personal responsibilities to be well out of the way.
Harry and Draco returned to the land of the living shortly after two in the afternoon. They looked well-rested and happy, so Hermione gathered that they'd moved past Draco being angry with Harry and straight through "Harry and Draco have make-up sex".
"How can you possibly have more work to do?" Harry asked when he saw the books that were spread out around her. "There isn't a year of school after this, you know that, right?"
She made a face at him. "I'm aware of that fact, thank you. There are, however, these big tests you might have heard of called N.E.W.T.s. You might also have heard that they're at the end of this year. I'm revising. They're less than two months away."
Harry grimaced. "I know. I don't know what happened to the time."
"It's called life, Pure Adult status, and fighting Voldemort," Draco answered promptly.
The dark-haired boy sighed and flopped down onto the couch. "Yeah. Have I mentioned recently how most of those annoy me?"
"Yes," she and Draco answered in unison, and they all grinned at one another.
"Get some work or go away and stop bothering me," Hermione instructed. "I need to revise."
Thankfully, Harry gave up his whinging, and they were able to pass a quiet afternoon of homework and revision with an early dinner; none of them had eaten regularly today, and the chance to eat on their own schedule and avoid the Great Hall also appealed.
Hermione found herself continually wondering what Severus was doing. Since he hadn't been there to pounce upon her as soon as she got back, she had no idea what was occupying his time. Had he not come because he hadn't known the precise time of their return? Had he not cared? Or had he noticed that she was righteously pissed off with him and he was keeping his distance? It was hard to tell with the Slytherin, and even if she found him, she knew that she couldn't simply ask him and get a straight answer.
The Head Girl in her felt mildly guilty for not attending dinner and failing to make sure that all the students were all right, but it was the hols, so there were fewer students, and she knew that Fawkes would have informed her if anything disastrous had occurred. Minerva had no doubt reported the night's events to Albus, so Hermione washed her hands of all those responsibilities.
It was almost eleven o'clock in the evening before she could admit why she was feeling so restless. She'd at first attributed it to coming down from the emotions of having cured nine more people of lycanthropy. But by eleven, she knew it was concern for a certain snarky man whom she wasn't supposed to be thinking about. It was the day after the full moon, and recent experience had taught her that Severus didn't weather those well. The Order had kept Roger's death quiet which meant that it was only now that Voldemort was learning of the man's failure. Hermione had an awful feeling about who was likely suffering as a result.
Since Harry and Draco had slept so much of the afternoon away, they weren't exactly ready to go to bed in a timely manner this evening. Hermione tried not to show her nervousness, but Harry twice asked her if she was all right. Despite her assurances that she was fine, the truth of the matter was that she wasn't feeling particularly all right at all. She knew that she'd decided to take a step back from Severus and be professional, but that resolution was crumbling in the face of his current absence. She could recite all the recent occasions where he had been less than polite to her, but they seemed to be nothing in face of the mad butterflies dancing in her stomach telling her that something was wrong.
As she'd clarified so forcefully with Harry and Draco the other night, she couldn't simply stop how she felt about Severus whether that meant refusing other men or caring about what happened to him. It didn't even matter that if their situation were reversed he wouldn't worry about her.
He was in danger. Even without being able to look at the Map to verify that he was not on the grounds, she knew it. She had no idea which instinct was telling her this, but she felt absolutely certain, and no matter how woolly she thought Divination was as a subject, she wasn't about to discount what she was currently feeling.
She was well aware that Harry had not had a Voldemort-induced vision in months. Given that there was all of a week's difference between when he had attained his Animagus form and when he had begun sleeping with Draco, Hermione wasn't sure which factor was the deciding one. Perhaps the two contributed equally. If Harry thought about it, he would surely realize that Voldemort was awfully unhappy right now but it wasn't impacting him as it had done in the past.
Hermione thus found their situation curiously inverted; Harry and Draco were awake and untroubled, and she was worried out of her mind thanks to Voldemort. She was still a novice when it came to connecting with the wards, but perhaps that was contributing to her certainty that Severus was absent. She wanted to yell this at them, wanted to make them search or help or worry with her … but the logical part of her recognized that there was nothing she or they could do even if Severus had been Summoned. And now was definitely not the time for a possible lecture from Harry about her caring for someone who didn't care back.
It did occur to her, lamentably late, that there was someone who would likely know for certain whether or not Severus had been Summoned. Fawkes confirmed for her that Severus had felt the burn of his Dark Mark and advised the headmaster before leaving at seven that evening.
The hours stretched on, Harry and Draco appearing only to get perkier but finally deciding that if they had any hope of rising the next morning at a halfway decent hour, they needed to go to bed.
It was half two.
The moment they had retired, Hermione Banished her books to her room; she'd spent the last hour unable to do more than reread the same paragraph over and over again.
Theoretically, as far as her experience had taught her, Severus would be back any time around now, but she couldn't bring herself to stay in the common room. As soon as it seemed likely that Harry and Draco weren't going to pop back out of Harry's bedroom because they'd forgotten something or had a last question for her, she donned her cloak, Masked herself, and headed outside.
It was a clear night, the moon glowing brilliantly, the stars shining brightly. Not three steps from the stairs, Hermione transformed into her unicorn form; it would keep her warmer as well as ensuring that she was getting the secondary benefit of light absorption.
Moving down to just outside the gate, she waited.
And waited.
She was still there when the sun rose at a quarter past five.
She was still there at half seven when she knew that even on holiday, people would be stirring in the castle, getting up so that they'd be ready for breakfast on the hour. By then, she'd worked out how to access the wards and keep tabs on Severus's presence or lack thereof. The restless unease that had driven her outside in the first place had only grown, an itch beneath her skin, blossoming into a gut-wrenching certainty that Severus was in trouble, that her mate was in distress while she was here, unable to help him.
Trying to trace the feeling and come up with a logical reason for it had proved that there was no sense behind what she was feeling, but no matter how many times she replayed all the rational counterarguments in her head, her heart simply insisted more loudly that disaster had struck.
It was a few minutes later that Harry spoke with the attempt at mental quietness that she knew indicated he didn't want to wake her if she were asleep.
Hermione?
Defeated, she slipped back through the gates and regained human form.
Yes, Harry?
You having a lie-in?
I'll be there in a minute.
She passed through the main doors, down into the dungeons, and back to her quarters. Harry's and Draco's heads swivelled from where they'd been directed at her bedroom door to the main entrance.
Harry frowned. "You were out early."
She nodded.
His frown deepened. "What's wrong?"
She licked lips that seemed suddenly dry and spoke through a throat that felt equally parched. "Severus was Summoned yesterday evening. He still hasn't come back."
The two of them stared at her without saying a word, and she decided it might be better if she sat down, so she stumbled slightly to the nearest chair.
"You've been out there all night?" Harry finally asked.
That was hardly the point, but she nodded.
"Sometimes he's Summoned for longer than just a few hours," Draco offered.
This was slightly more on topic, but she shook her head definitively. "That's not what this is."
Harry's head tilted to the side as he considered, her certainty apparently not lost on him.
"I've not had any problems with my scar."
She sighed. "I know you haven't. But can you think of the last time you have? The last time you've had a vision?"
From the look of it, this wasn't exactly a question that he was anticipating, and it was only now that he seemed to realize that he couldn't come up with an immediate answer. He'd been through years of living in the moments between Voldemort-caused havoc, and the habit appeared to be second nature now.
Draco was the first to make the observation. "You don't have bad dreams when you're with me, do you?"
Harry shook his head, but it took a moment for the connection to stick.
"I haven't had a vision since I started sleeping with Draco?"
She managed a smile. "Is that a question?"
He grinned back as he realized the truth of the assertion. "No."
"You became even more powerful, and you found your mate, the person who grounds you."
Harry managed to recall the actual topic of conversation on his own.
"So you're saying that even if Voldemort was really angry or really happy, I wouldn't know anymore?"
"I don't think so," she agreed. "As far as we've ever been able to tell, the connection between the two of you is unique, so anything we conclude is based on observation and conjecture. But I don't think you're connected to him like you used to be, or at least, I think you've learned how to completely suppress the link."
"About bloody time," Harry grumbled, and Draco smiled.
"What it means right now, however," she noted, "is that we have no indicator for what Voldemort is feeling; in this case, we're stuck with my feelings as our only guide."
"Last I checked," Draco said, "you don't have a connection to the Dark Lord."
"But I do have a connection to Severus." Somehow. "It's nothing so strong that I can actually feel what he's feeling or communicate with him." Although she was now wondering why the hell she hadn't tried to learn how to do that. She could connect with perfect strangers for curing lycanthropy, so why hadn't she made more of an effort to connect with Severus? Oh, right, because he didn't want anything to do with her. She shrugged a bit helplessly. "I have a very strong feeling that something is wrong."
"Says the person who thinks Divination is complete nonsense."
What was up with Draco this morning?
"Yes," she ground out. "Says the person who thinks Divination is complete nonsense except for that bit where I've been reading the journals of a millennium-old Seer."
"And now you think you've inherited her genes?" the blond asked.
She made a face. "In point of fact, as I think you would have grasped from the issue of my having blood in common with Voldemort, I did inherit some of her genes. But no, I do not believe myself to suddenly be a Seer. I do believe, however, that I'm connected to Severus, as I've said."
Draco looked sceptical, and she rose.
"I'm going to go see Albus."
Harry stood up as well. "I'll come with."
"I'm not sure either of you would be very helpful right now, thank you," she said curtly.
Harry didn't have to say specifically for her to know that he believed her as little as Draco did; she could pick that up all on her own without any gifts of Sight.
Harry cast an uncertain look between her and Draco, and she turned on her heel and stalked back out of the room and up to the second floor. It was nearing breakfast time but a quick glance at the wards informed her that she'd catch the headmaster in his office before he'd quite made it down.
The griffin was still polite enough to jump out of the way, and she climbed the steps even as they were winding their way upward. Since the normally uniform speed of the stairs increased as she ascended, she guessed that the castle was being sympathetic to her anxiety.
Ten minutes later, she'd determined that the castle was the only one. Albus was of Draco and Harry's opinion. He wasn't convinced that Harry's connection with Voldemort had really been suppressed. He thought that Voldemort must not have been feeling anything strongly enough to cause Harry distress recently. Like Draco, he brought up the numerous occasions in the past where Severus was kept at meetings for days.
"I know that, sir," she answered, not bothering to suppress all the frustration in her voice. "I've been at Grimmauld Place for enough summers to know full well how long he can be Summoned for outside of term time."
"It's not term right now, Hermione," Albus pointed out.
"I know that," she repeated. "It is only the beginning of Easter holidays, however. Severus regularly spends the entire break here, and he has duties as Head of Slytherin. N.E.W.T.s are less than two months away, and Voldemort, for all he's an egomaniac, wants the Slytherins he can control to score well so that they can be put into good positions when they emerge from your school. He wants them to be useful. Do you really think that he would pull Severus away from that when this break is the perfect time for him to coach all of them?"
Albus's eyes still twinkled, and he didn't look overly troubled.
"Your point is not invalid, Hermione, but Voldemort's concern over anything except his own satisfaction and the destruction of Harry has been dwindling steadily in recent years. I don't believe he would be much bothered by a few days' study time for students who aren't even Marked yet if he has a potion that he suddenly wants Severus to brew. Severus invariably goes to these meetings without being certain of what will be asked of him, and he can rarely contact me to advise me of longer commitments. If he is not back in several days, then we will have cause for concern."
Hermione bit her tongue so hard that she felt the tang of blood in her mouth.
"In several days, he could be dead," she said as calmly as the violence to her tongue had allowed.
Albus rose and came round his desk to pat her on the shoulder and begin guiding her towards the door.
"There's simply no reason to believe that right now, Hermione. I know you're concerned, but Severus has done this countless times. You don't have anything to worry about."
Hermione was singularly uncomforted by this. She did have a reason to be worried; no one might believe her, but she knew Severus was suffering. It didn't matter if Severus had done this a million times before if last night was the night that he'd been caught, and all her instincts told her that it was.
But she had heard exactly what Albus wasn't saying; she had been relegated to "unduly worried lover" or some such category. She wasn't being taken seriously, she thought savagely, because they thought she was overemotional about the absence of the man who had been her first.
She had to practice her deep breathing to avoid cursing Albus as he led her down to breakfast.
"What did he say?" Harry asked as soon as she sat down at the Gryffindor table.
She threw up privacy charms of the muffling variety, staring down at her empty plate for a moment and making no effort to put anything on it.
Her voice was very flat. "He said that you were right and I am wrong. That you know what is going on and I do not."
"Hermione—" he started to protest.
She met his eyes evenly, and whatever he saw there made him close his mouth with an audible clack of teeth. Draco, employing the sense that had been bred into him by years of Malfoys who'd been in tense political situations, said not a word.
Ron, unfortunately in the instance, did not possess this breeding, and he stumbled into the hall at almost nine, managing to make up for his late start by heaping his plate and showing one of those odd moments of perception by asking what was wrong.
Draco and Harry both looked at her, so the next time Ron's eyes rose from his plate, they came to rest on her as well.
"Nothing that there is any pointing discussing right now." Frostily, she added, "According to most everyone who's involved, it's not something worth discussing at all."
He looked as though he wanted to ask more but sense of some sort kindly reared its head and induced him to keep his questions to himself.
Hermione made no attempt to lighten the mood or offer innocuous topics of conversation. She happened to be quite annoyed with Harry and Draco—the former especially—for not even making an attempt to trust in her judgement. Ron didn't even know what the situation was, however, so it wasn't fair to take out her distemper on him.
In apology, she told him about how Mary had asked after him extensively, and she watched as he perked up visibly in front of her. She had a sudden image of him in his Animagus form, running around in crazed excitement, yapping like mad.
Ron invited himself back to their common room, ostensibly to hear more about the lovely Healer but really to ask about what had been going on at breakfast. She perched on one of the chairs, steering clear of the couch and its occupants, and Ron sat in the chair opposite.
Not looking at Harry or Draco, she explained briefly since she really didn't need someone else to go to great lengths to tell her why everything she'd just said was very wrong.
Ron looked at her with surprising seriousness. "So what are we doing about it?"
She stared at him, surprised speechless, and it was Draco who spoke first.
"There's nothing to do. Even if Hermione's right," and he made it sound as though this were a very big if, "we have no way of getting to Severus."
Ron looked over at Draco and said flatly, "How many times have you known Hermione to be wrong?"
She could have kissed him. His support was even more welcome for being so unexpected.
"That's true," Harry agreed, "but usually we get a little more to go on than 'just having a feeling'."
"Hermione's one of the last people I know to put stock in simply feeling things," Ron argued. "For her to bring it up, it's evidently strong enough and important enough that we should take notice."
"The headmaster doesn't think it's anything," Draco noted.
"Albus didn't think it was anything when a twelve-year-old fought a Basilisk," Ron replied dryly.
If she'd been in a better mood, this would have made her laugh. Ron was right on the ball with his observations today. He looked at her.
"I don't like Snape," he said with a slight grimace. "But if you're worried, I'm worried."
She blinked back unexpected tears.
"Thanks, Ron," she said, clearing her throat huskily. "Unfortunately, Draco's right; even if I knew for sure that Severus was being tortured, we don't have any information on his whereabouts."
All three boys nodded at this. Part of the reason Hermione had conceived of the entire warding idea was because of the set-up required for the destruction of Voldemort to be successful. They couldn't wander over haphazardly with vials full of blood and hope that Voldemort stood still long enough—and his Death Eaters behaved long enough—for them to cast a complicated and lethal ward. They didn't even know where to wander to. Voldemort had been growing more rather than less paranoid over the years, and in recent months, Severus rarely even recognized the location where the man was hiding out. This left them with precious little to go on right now.
"Let's do some revision, then." This, too, was from Ron, and Hermione looked at him in complete astonishment. He shrugged. "It's got to be done, even by me eventually, and I know it stands the best chance of distracting you."
They all acquiesced, although Hermione found that it was helping Ron revise that did more to distract her than revising herself. When she was supposed to be doing that, she simply stared blindly at whatever books or notes she was reading and thought of all the horrible ways that Severus could be dying while she sat here.
When, by contrast, she was wading through the horror that was Ron's class notes or reminding him of what books he needed to read straightaway if he had any hope of passing any of his N.E.W.T.s, it took her marginally away from her worries.
Periodically, Harry and Draco seemed to feel it necessary to point out that they were sure Severus would be back at any moment. She put very little stock in this belief, and they seemed to know that, but they kept saying it, as though the more times they repeated it, the more true it was likely to become.
"Don't you want to keep an eye on the Map?" Harry asked.
"I don't need to," she answered. "If he comes back, I'll know."
Harry frowned. "But he's not a guest."
"I'm not tracking him on the Map," she answered. "I'm tracking him through the wards."
In the act of reaching for another book, Draco froze. "You can use the wards to track whether or not people are in the castle?"
She nodded absently, running through the connection in her head one more time even though she knew that she'd be aware the millisecond Severus crossed the wards.
"You realize that's insane?" Draco added.
She looked at him blankly, finally saying, "I have a talent with wards."
Draco shook his head. "There's talent, and then there are, I don't know, super powers. The wards on this school are massive. And they weren't cast by you. You shouldn't just be able to know, from here, when someone crosses them."
She shrugged. "But I do."
There was no point rehashing the details that Solace had left in her journal. Without a far more detailed explanation than she was willing to make at the moment, it was impossible to properly explain the connection that she felt to the wards. It was a bit as though a little part of her had stayed with the wards and a bit of the wards had stayed with her ever since she had accessed them. Desperation had aided her experimentation, and she could connect to them as an observer when she wished.
"So you'll let us know if Severus comes back?" Draco said in an attempt at a recovery from his earlier shock.
"Of course," she said shortly, knowing full well that he would not be coming back under his own power. She'd kiss Filch and profess her eternal belief in Trelawney if Severus came waltzing back today after a long meeting.
By dint of superior numbers and a great deal of cajoling, they got her up to the Great Hall for lunch, where she spent a fair bit of time glaring at the headmaster who clearly still thought she was overreacting.
She'd spent so long ignoring the High Table recently because Severus was at it and they were cross with one another that it was only now that she twigged to the fact that she hadn't seen Viktor in several days.
Fawkes, she asked, is Viktor still here?
He went back to Bulgaria for the break. The phoenix's tone was indecipherable, so she didn't know if he found it weird that she didn't know or if he'd heard about the whole Astronomy Tower debacle. He will return.
Thanks.
She wanted to ask Fawkes's opinion on whether or not she was crazy believing what she did about Severus's current fate, but she decided there was no point. If Severus was injured, Fawkes had as little access to him right now as they did, and as annoyed as she was with Albus, there was no reason to try to breed dissension between him and his familiar. And she wasn't sure she could take someone else she trusted telling her she was crazy.
The afternoon was spent in the same tedium as the morning. Harry and Draco convinced her to do some afternoon rounds, just to make sure that the students weren't using the supposed benefit of decreased numbers to get up to any mischief. It was lucky for the students that trouble-makers were at a minimum because her temper right now wouldn't have held for any foolishness.
They'd picked up a fourth for the occasion, and Pansy had caught onto the tension immediately. She was a Slytherin, and she kept her mouth shut, well aware that there was an issue in contention about which she was uninformed. Hermione was very grateful for the circumspection.
The later it got, the worse Hermione felt. It was an indefinable ache all over, the prickle of hairs perpetually raised on the back of her neck, a sense that she should be somewhere else right now and the futility of not knowing how to get there.
She'd had more time to think about it, and she wondered now if this was because she was a Pure Adult, because she was a unicorn Animagus, because of the level of power she currently had, or a combination of all three. If this was the type of feeling that unicorns had when their mates were in trouble, she'd truly begun to understand why they mated for life and didn't long outlive their partners.
She believed what she was feeling indicated that Severus was alive and suffering; she was horrified by the prospect of how she would feel if he were to die. Would the feelings get exponentially worse? Or would she feel nothing at all, a complete void? She wasn't sure she could stand either, and that meant she had to find a solution. No matter what anyone else thought, no matter what information they were lacking, she had to solve this.
It didn't take someone of her perception to know that she hadn't convinced the others that she was fine, but by sheer force of will, she'd not let any of them see just how unfine she was. Since it would be unconvincing if she appeared completely emotionless, she blocked the upper ranges of her emotional output to take the edge off and then did her best to appear as though she were coping with her upset.
Even in her own mind, she could recognize that it should impact her at least a little that Severus couldn't stand her and had been horrible to her for months. All she knew with her heart, however, was that it didn't matter. He was her mate, and she needed him to be safe and happy and alive. She shivered. "live was really important, and she knew that with each passing moment, the chances of that remaining true diminished steadily.
She needed to know where the Death Eaters were or she needed a Death Eater who could tell her where the others were or she needed a Death Eater who could take her there—
Hermione's thoughts stumbled to a halt. She did know where one Death Eater was. Or, rather, she almost knew. She checked the wards and determined where her quarry was located.
She forced herself to sit still for ten more minutes to regain a modicum of calm; she needed to have a plan and this had to be done properly.
Rising with more force than was necessary, she exclaimed suddenly, "I can't just keep sitting here! I need to take a walk and stretch my legs."
They eyed her with varying degrees of suspicion.
"I'll go with you," Ron offered, gesturing at his books with a grimace of distaste. "I could use a break from that."
"Sure," she said with a slightly tight smile. "I'm not sure I'm the best company right now, but it's probably better if I'm not alone."
The redhead rose to his feet, and Harry looked immediately happier than she'd acquiesced so readily to being accompanied.
"We could come, too."
She shrugged, making sure her voice was calm. "Only if you want to. Three people following me around the castle might be a little excessive, as last I checked, I was fully able to take care of myself, but if you need to get out, be my guest."
Harry and Draco exchanged looks, and she could see that they didn't particularly want to join her, not when they knew full well that she was still annoyed with them. Draco shrugged, and Hermione suppressed a smile as she saw Harry give in.
Ron followed her into the hall, falling in step with her wordlessly.
They made it down one corridor before he asked, "What are you really doing?"
"Visiting Tonks," she answered promptly.
He actually froze for a moment and had to take an extra long stride to catch her up.
"Tonks?" he said incredulously. "Seriously?"
"She's an Auror. She might have some ideas. I can't just sit around and do nothing."
"But why didn't you just say so?" Ron asked, frowning in confusion.
She made a face and asked disparagingly, "Do you think I wanted everyone tagging along telling her how crazy I was to be worrying? Insisting that there was no need to bother anyone else because they and Albus are sure it's nothing?"
"They don't think you're crazy," Ron protested. He evidently saw her doubt, because he continued, "They just have a hard time believing what they haven't seen. It's been a long time for Harry since he wasn't aware of what Voldemort was doing before everyone else. And given that it's taken Malfoy until this year to be hit over the head repeatedly with the fact that You Know Who is evil, he's evidently a concrete evidence sort of person as well."
Since when had Ron been the reasonable one?
"I know what you're thinking." She raised an eyebrow. "I've always been like that, too. I fly off the handle and don't make amends until I've been dropped from a tall building into the evidence." Her lips quirked at this image, and he shrugged, the pink tingeing the tips of his ears indicating that he was more embarrassed than he let on. He shrugged. "Even I have to grow up sometime."
She'd be awfully happy if he really had done, or at least that he was managing this show of maturity at a moment which was really important to her.
They'd reached Tonks's classroom.
"I appreciate your support," she said honestly as she knocked on the frame of the door.
The pink-haired Auror looked up from her desk where she appeared to be grading papers and smiled at the sight of the two of them.
"Come in."
"It's just me, I'm afraid," Hermione said. "Ron was walking me down."
"You're sure you're all right?" the redhead asked.
"I'm fine," she answered firmly.
Ron's look was close and assessing, but he had never made the slightest attempt to become a Legilimens, and the mental shields she had up right now would give Severus, Albus, and Voldemort combined a run for their money. Ron finally shook his head, although a slight furrow continued to mar his forehead, bid farewell to Tonks, and headed back the way he had come.
He was by no means stupid, but it seemed that he was choosing to let her get away with her plan. It was for the best that he didn't know the finer details.
Hermione entered the room, closed the door, and warded it. Tonks's eyebrows rose slightly as she took in the complexity of the protections the Gryffindor was putting up. She rose and moved to prop herself up against the front of her desk.
"What's up?" she asked.
Hermione didn't waste any time.
"Where are Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy?"
Surprise showed on the older woman's face. "They're in an Order safe house, the same place they've been since January."
"I know that," Hermione said impatiently. "I need to know where exactly."
The Auror frowned and answered slowly, "There's no reason for you to know that, Hermione."
"Severus was Summoned," Hermione explained. "Yesterday evening. He's still not back. Albus and Harry and Draco will all tell you that I'm overreacting, but I'm telling you that I know he's not come back because he can't. He's been caught, and if we don't rescue him, he's going to die."
"Even if I told you where the Malfoys were, it wouldn't do you any good." Tonks sounded as though she was actually taking Hermione's words into consideration but had found holes in the plan. "They were questioned extensively about their knowledge of Death Eater activities, and they've no idea where Voldemort is currently located."
"Be that as it may, I need to know where they are."
Tonks shook her head but offered, "I could talk to Albus and Kingsley. We could question the Malfoys more specifically."
Hermione drew in a breath sharply through her nose. "I've asked nicely twice."
Her Defence professor's eyes narrowed sharply. "I don't like the sound of that."
Hermione stepped closer and said very calmly and very clearly, "If you force me to take the answer from you, I will."
It might have been the instinctive action of an Auror, but Tonks's hand inched towards her wand, and Hermione Summoned it without a word.
"Please don't," the Gryffindor said. "I have no desire to injure Remus's favourite professor."
Some of the tension eased from Tonks's form.
"I need an answer. Time is of the essence," Hermione added intensely.
Forcing herself to stand patiently and not fidget as she waited for Tonks to come to a decision was almost more than she could bear, but Hermione stood still as a statue until the other woman announced abruptly, "Look, then."
Hermione met the other woman's eyes and immediately saw the location. She probed only long enough to ascertain that this was the truth, and then immediately removed herself from Tonks's mind.
"Thank you," Hermione said honestly, although she was already itching to get moving. "You may want to sit down."
Tonks sighed. "Dare I ask why?"
"Because you're about to be Stunned, and I'd hate to leave you on the floor," she replied candidly.
"Is that really necessary?"
Hermione nodded. "I'm afraid I can't have you giving me away."
The pink-haired woman tried to reason with her. "Whatever you're planning, you shouldn't do it by yourself. Even Kingsley and me—"
"I'm going alone," Hermione interrupted flatly. "It's the only way. I'll time the spell."
Looking resigned, Tonks stumbled into the chair behind her desk. After a moment's consideration, Hermione modified the chair so that it looked like a Muggle recliner.
"Wouldn't want you to fall out," she said with a smile that was forced. "I am sorry, but I think you're a little too Auror to let me go if I left you to your own devices."
Tonks lifted one shoulder in concession of this point.
"I'm going to lock the door behind me so that no one can come across you in a vulnerable state. Remus will be able to get in, regardless, and you'll be fine in thirty minutes or if he finds you sooner. Your wand will be sheathed once you're under the spell."
The Auror's hair turned green as she nodded in understanding.
"Good luck."
Hermione smiled more genuinely this time. "Thank you."
She followed this up with the Stunner, time-limited as she had promised, and made sure that Tonks was comfortably reposed. She tucked the other woman's wand back into its sheath, Masked herself completely, and slipped out of the room, warding it as she went.
In what was probably all of a minute or two but felt like an eternity because of the giant clock she was racing against, Hermione was out of the castle and across the grounds. She crossed the wards and Apparated to her destination.