Chapter Sixteen | Seven Escape

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Hermione's eyes were glued to the enlarged mirror, heart racing but face remaining impassive. Malfoy had made it to The Leaky Cauldron.

"I'm here as requested," her own voice said. "Let the people in the pub go free, and I'll do whatever you ask."

It was time. Tearing her eyes away from the scene, Hermione found Poof waiting, bouncing from foot-to-foot, clutching the note to Ginny and the portkeys. "Are you ready, Poof?"

Poof nodded vigorously.

"Please be careful."

"Poof will be the most careful elf for Miss Hermione Granger," she said, and with a smile and a pop, she was gone.

"They're arguing," Angelina said, gesturing to the mirror. "Fenrir and the Death Eaters."

They watched and listened in silence as the disagreement escalated. When Fenrir had finally had enough and attacked Jugson, Angelina swore, but Hermione remained motionless—watching, calculating. Greyback was clearly unstable. To Hermione, it made little sense that he'd be trusted to be in charge. Where was Dolohov?

When Greyback jumped off the roof, landing monstrously in front of Draco, she nearly yelped. Angelina did.

Hermione stared, awestruck, at Greyback's moldering fangs, dripping with blood. For what had to be the tenth time that night, she considered a career switch. Maybe Malfoy was right. This job was too dangerous for parents. Perhaps she could convince him to quit if she did.

A commotion took her attention from the mirror. Hermione thought it was likely the first round of portkeyers arriving from inside The Leaky Cauldron. Instead, she saw an unfamiliar patronus delivering a message to Hestia and Robards where they stood across the lobby by a table similar to Hermione's own teams'. As Head Auror and the Head of the DMLE, they had the dicey and important job of monitoring and all-clearing for the teams that were dueling.

As the patronus spoke, Hestia's hand moved to her mouth as her jaw dropped in shock, and Robards' eyes widened so large, Hermione could see it from across the room. They both abandoned their posts, running toward the emergency apparition point.

"That can't be good," Angelina murmured, Hermione nodded in agreement, just as the first portkey whirled a small group of witches and wizards into the center of the bank's lobby. Ginny wasn't among them, but Andromeda and Teddy were. Teddy's face was splotchy and shiny from tears, his hair natural, muted sandy color—a clear sign of his distress.

The next portkey followed quickly behind the first. Still no Ginny.

Hermione glanced back at the mirror just in time to watch Greyback snap Draco's glamored wand and toss it.

"Fuck!" Hermione yelled. She never cursed, not ever, but she'd never experienced sheer, shocked terror like this moment. Tears stung her eyes, heart beating frantically.

Another portkey. No Ginny.

So much was happening at once, and Hermione was begging to feel out of control, but she had to keep her composure, and she had to figure out how to get Malfoy out of this alive.

Poof appeared in front of her, a crazed look in the tiny elf's eyes. "Miss Hermione Granger. Poof is so sorry, but she can't wait. Master is calling."

Hermione's head whipped from the eld to the mirror and back. "He hasn't. I've been watching him."

"No, Miss Hermione Granger, No." Poof shook her head frantically, ears flopping back and forth. "Not Master Draco. Master Lucius."

"That's impossible."

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