Chapter Text
30 June 1997
The Great Hall was quieter than usual, most students tucked away in the library or their common rooms working on their final papers and assignments. Another year at Hogwarts would soon be coming to a close with only a few odd mishaps here and there. A couple attempted murders were hardly news to Hermione. She’d spent every year thus far facing the looming threat of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and his hoard of malicious followers.
“Mione,” Ron said through a mouthful of pumpkin pasties, “would you look over my potions project? Seamus swears it’s brewed properly, but I don’t trust that git as far as I could hex him.”
“Ronald,” she said with a hint of a smirk, “I have my own potion to look after. Nott and I are meeting after dinner to work on it.” Ron’s face fell. “ But if, and only if, I have time afterwards, I’ll give it a look.”
She glanced over at the Slytherin table. Nott must have left early to set up the potions room. Shite. Hermione hated when someone arrived before her. No one knew the proper way to lay out ingredients and prepare a cauldron with care. One slight mistep could turn even Amortentia into a Draught of Living Death.
“Speaking of, I’d best be off to meet him.” Much to Ron’s disappointment, Hermione shuffled off the bench and strutted out the main entrance. She reached toward her beaded bag, hoping to review her notes before she dealt with Nott’s incessant criticism, hardly noticing the man she walked right into.
“Watch it Granger.” She didn’t need to look up to know who the voice belonged to. Draco fucking Malfoy.
“Malfoy.” No half-arsed attempt could hide the disdain in her voice.
“Do us all a favor and keep your filth out of the castle tonight.” Comments like this weren’t unusual from the one and only Malfoy Heir, but there was a sense of urgency she’d never expected to echo from his chest.
She caught his eyes for only a brief moment. Grey. Just like they had been all year. She hadn’t meant to notice their departure from his usual silver blue glare, but he’d made a great attempt to stare her down through the years. Now, they just looked lifeless.
“Pleasure as always.” Determined to get the last word, she hurriedly brushed past him. One more moment delayed and Nott might screw up and throw out weeks of work. She couldn’t handle restarting the draught so close to its due date.
Heading down to the potions room as quickly as she could, Hermione almost missed the hushed whispers from the slytherins passing by, but she had no time to remind the snakes that their opinions of her were rooted in ignorant prejudice. No, best to save that for a later date. Preferably after she aced her final exams and proved herself worthy of being treated as equal.
“Get her the hell out of here.” A baritone voice muttered from near the potions room. “Then we can have this argument.”
“It’s been decided.” Was that Ginny? “This was always the plan, and we both know it.”
Hermione stopped abruptly, her shoes making a small squeak against the floor. The voices halted immediately. She heard a small shuffle before she saw the red hair peeking from behind the corner.
“Hermione.” Her friend said, with slight hesitation. Ginny was always the true Gryfindor, never faltering. There was something deeply, deeply wrong.
“What’s going on?” The other footsteps disappeared down the hall before Hermione could see to whom they belonged. Ginny took a deep breath, setting her courageous front back on.
“There’s been a breach in the wards.” She stepped toward Hermione, placing her hands on her shoulders. “I need you to go get Harry’s invisibility cloak from his trunk.”
“A breach?” But that was impossible… Dumbledore had taken every precaution possible over the years to strengthen the safety of the castle. How on Merlin’s earth could someone get through?
“We can talk about it later, I need to find Malfoy. Grab the cloak and meet me… meet me at Hagrid’s hut.” Ginny’s body stood still, but Hermione could see the slight shake in her eyes. Almost unsure of what she was saying.
“Malfoy? Ginny what is going on, I’m coming with–”
“NO,” she said a beat too quickly, “I - I need Harry’s invisibility cloak…Hermione, please.”
There was no arguing with Ginny Weasley, and Hermione knew that. She nodded timidly.
“Okay, be careful.” Afraid to ask what exactly she needed from Malfoy, Hermione turned on her feet and headed toward Gryffindor tower. Someone breached the wards? She ran through all the possibilities in her mind. Had it something to do with Harry’s secret sessions with Dumbledore? She’d never pushed him to tell her exactly what he was up to, but she knew it was vital in defeating Voldemort. In the moments of anxiety leading her up the staircase, she wished she had pushed him just a little more. She could have helped him plan for any ward breaks, maybe he already had a plan? But his plans were usually shite. Scribbled down on a used napkin, kind of shite.
Hermione was breathless by the time she reached the Gryffindor entrance. Her slightly dizzy state left her completely unprepared for the Expelliarmus heading her way. She watched, helplessly, as her wand flung out of her grip.
“Well, well, well.” Leaning against the exposed stone was none other than Blaise Zabini. She had only ever shared one or two words with him, none of them particularly pleasant. “If it isn’t the Gryffindor princess returning to her tower.”
“Move.” She shuffled forward toward the portrait, but another figure slid into view. Dark hair and green eyes, so closely resembling Harry that she almost sighed with relief.
“Not so fast, love.” Without a word, she felt Theodore Nott’s magic freeze her body in place. “Have you forgotten our potions appointment?”
“Nott, I swear to the gods if you don’t–” Before she could finish, Zabini’s wand snapped a silencing spell her way.
“Much prettier with that mouth closed, Granger.” His breath snaked so close to her neck, she nearly shivered. He grabbed her by her shoulders, Nott reaching for her other side. They released her from the bind and dragged her away with them. She kicked and fought the best she could, but Merlin were they strong.
“Calm yourself, love.” Nott said in a shockingly reassuring tone.
“Or you’ll have the rest of tonight to fight.” Zabini snorted, Nott shooting him a glare. Hermione couldn’t help looking between the two, acting as a twisted angel and devil of sorts. It didn’t take long to realize they were, in fact, taking her to the potions room.
Hermione couldn’t understand how no one was wandering the halls, surely someone would come to aid her. Where could they all be? But then she heard a shriek of laughter… her shriek of laughter. The crazed woman with the curls that rivaled Hemione’s. Her body froze again, deadweight under Zabini and Nott’s hold.
“Yes, the Dark Lord’s girlfriend is here, so do us a favor and hurry the fuck up before she kills us all on the spot.” Zabini snapped in her ear, tightening his grip. She sped up, rushing into the potions room, nearly dragging the slytherins with her. She utilized the momentum to sling the two boys into the room and off of her. With a graceful kick to all the right places, Hermione managed to snag her wand out of Zabini’s hand.
“Now,” she said, after removing the silencing charm, “who wants to talk first.”
She disarmed them both, gripping their wands in her left hand, all while keeping hers pointed between the two. Zabini was still recovering from her kick, but Nott slowly inched toward her.
“Granger, love, calm down.” He should have known better than to tell Hermione Granger of all people to calm down. But before she had time to hex him into oblivion, she heard a ‘ Petrificus Totalus’ muttered behind her. Slim but strong arms wrapped around her as she fell forward onto the floor.
“What part of get her and leave her did you two not understand?” The sneering voice of Malfoy sounded as he released his arms from around her.
“Someone couldn’t handle a little love tap from Granger.” Nott’s tone changed as he spoke to Malfoy. All semblance of care disappeared.
“It was not a tap. That witch has a strong kick.” Zabini attempted a defense.
“Shut it. We have to go. He’s here.”
Silence fell over the room, then the three boys shuffled toward the door, leaving Hermione laying paralyzed on the floor.
“One day, Granger, you’ll thank me. But it sure as salazar won’t be today.” Not an ounce of humanity could be heard in Malfoy’s tone. The words sat in the air as if they hadn’t been spoken by a living being at all.
The door shut, a lock clicked, and Hermione felt a tear try to drip from her eye. She pictured Ginny, standing desperately waiting for her to run up with Harry’s cloak. Ready to help however she could… and the last thing she heard was the cruel laugh of Bellatrix LeStrange, before the room was silenced from the outside.