The day after Hermione was released from the hospital wing, the A, B and D team gathered in the War room to prepare for the raid. Malfoy had informed them that while the take over in Romania had indeed been successful, it had exhausted and severely injured the majority of the Death Eaters that had been assigned.
"How'd you escape unscathed then?"
Hermione stiffened. While Ron's voice had not been entirely unkind— perhaps a bit accusatory, but nice enough— she was aware how much he disliked having Malfoy in such close proximity to her, especially after he'd walked into her room to see his Slytherin jersey placed carefully onto her bed.
Malfoy didn't let it bother him, not outwardly, at least. But Hermione could feel his irritation trickling into her mind before he shoved his shields up higher.
He shrugged, moulding his face into a carefully crafted mask. "Must be a bit more skilled than them, then."
"When would be the best time for us to strike?" Moody was looking over the document Hermione had been working on concerning her and Malfoy fighting on opposite sides while bound. He wasn't convinced it was a smart idea to let Hermione battle in the raid and she was determined to prove him wrong.
"At night, definitely," Malfoy began, sitting up straighter and leaning his arms on the table. "Those that aren't injured will be celebrating the victory. If you wait until one or two in the morning, the majority of the Dark Lord's forces will be too shit faced to be able to fight back properly."
Hermione sent a flare of irritation to him and he rolled his eyes to the ceiling, but refused to look at her, or correct himself. Though she had no doubts that Malfoy's switch in loyalties were strictly based on self preservation, she still found terms like "Dark Lord" to be offensive and unnecessary.
He fired back with an image of him accidentally calling Voldemort Tom— they way they had often referred to him since the Taboo had been put out— and of him being crucio'd until he was senseless. Hermione huffed out a breath but withdrew her emotions behind her Occlumency walls. She supposed he did have a point there.
Everything that was happening, that Malfoy could witness, needed to be kept under the largest and thickest of shields in his mind. Picking up the terms they used and changing his language to fit them would do nothing but cause suspicion and get him injured. And as reluctant as she was to admit it, she did not want to see Malfoy hurt on her account.
"Tonight," Moody declared, setting the papers down with a flutter. He eyed the group harshly. "Everyone needs to be on the roof at the apparition point at midnight."
There was a flurry of nodding heads and shuffling papers, but no one stood to leave. There had been no dismissal in his tone and Hermione stiffened as she waited.
"Malfoy," he turned to look him in the eye. "We'll do our best to aim nonlethal hexes at you or make near misses with the spells. Your orders are to stay clear of any Order members. If it comes down to it, if you aren't quick enough, we will kill you to avoid suspicion."
Malfoy didn't seem deterred by the emotionless tone of voice or the harsh words. He merely nodded.
"I can help confuse things on the other end. It won't be much, but I'm sure I can delay their arrival by a few minutes."
"Every second counts." Harry's voice was strong, but his hands in his lap, fiddling nervously, were a dead give away. He hated the idea of Malfoy being at risk for the sake of the Order. Hermione fought the urge to roll her eyes. After all Malfoy had done to spite them since the second he'd met Harry, you'd think he could be okay with this specific person finally meeting with his karma. Maybe he really was a saint.
Moody gave Harry a once over before nodding and standing from the table, everyone else following quickly. He eyed the group dangerously.
"Everyone better be well rested when we meet up top. It's going to be a long night."
Hermione turned towards the door, already dreaming about the extra hours of sleep she had been practically ordered to catch, when someone caught her sleeve. She turned a glare on the person and saw Kingsley, Malfoy and Moody glancing at her expectantly. She sighed, but sat back down.
"Granger. Malfoy." Moody's voice was gruff and the commanding tone had her sitting up straighter automatically. "You'll be fighting on opposite sides tonight, if this battle plan is anything to go by." He shook the parchment in his hands. Malfoy said nothing, but his eyebrows raised.
"I assume that means it has been approved?" Hermione couldn't help the authoritative tone her voice took on in this room. In here, she was a leader. An equal to Moody in almost all regards save experience. She had worked hard for that right. If Malfoy's sneer was anything to go by, he didn't agree.
"It's an elaborate outline, and the Council appreciated your honest list of pros and cons, even if the cons outweigh the latter." Kingsley refrained from sounding impressed, but she knew she had outdone herself.
Hermione nodded and forced her hands to stay loose on the table. Moody had been the one to train her on the art of deception, something she was absolute garbage at before. Now, she knew all the signs to check on someone's emotional state. Tensed muscles. Balled fists. Short breaths. Furrowed brows.
Despite the tense atmosphere and the looming fight, all three sat there, loose and expressionless.
The war had changed more than just her. No one was easy to read anymore.
"We decided that all this seems nice in theory. We want to see it in action, test out if it could actually work the way you've said."
Malfoy balked, eyes narrowing at Kingsley. "You're thinking of approving this?"
Hermione turned a glare on him. "You knew I was submitting this approval, why are you acting surprised now?"
He had schooled his expression back into one of indifference, and his arms were crossed nonchalantly over his chest. She reached out to check his emotions, but his walls were up high.
"Obviously I assumed Kingsley and the rest of the supposedly experienced aurors to be of more intelligence than this."
Hermione huffed out a breath of air and stood, putting her hands on her hips. He had pushed back his chair at the same time. "You didn't think it would get approved?"
"Well why should it? It's an awful idea."
She crossed her arms over her chest and tried to meet his eyes. Not for the first time since their binding ceremony, she wished she was taller. It would be harder for him to avoid her blazing gaze if their height difference wasn't so staggering.
"I need to be out there, fighting. It's my primary role in the Order." She was a shite healer, thanks to being an A type. She was more naturally inclined for close contact fighting and strategy planning. She needed to be out on the field, needed to see it for her own eyes, to try and protect anyone she was near.
"You being out there puts both of our lives in far greater danger than if you were to stay here at the safe house."
She raised her eyebrows, and somehow his averted glance made sense.
"And why's that?" Her voice had the hint of a challenge in it.
He scoffed, but remained silent. She didn't even try to hide the grin spreading across her face.
"Your magic will be stronger the closer I am."
"Your close by magic will just be a reminder," he bit out. "What's the point in you being there, if not just to stress me out and distract me."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "My world doesn't revolve around you, Malfoy."
"Well it kind of does, doesn't it?" He dropped his arms to his hips before running a hand through his hair.
To that, she had nothing to say. He was right, in a way. The reason this bind had been created was for the purpose of battle; creating a whole that came together to be stronger than the individuals. In that aspect, she supposed her world did revolve around him.
The realization was unwelcome.
"It's irrelevant," she insisted. "We have to power through tough times to win the war. This is no different."
"How am I supposed to appropriately play my part tonight if you're there?" His tone had a hint of desperation and his eyes were wider than they had been a few moments before. "I'll be distracted all night, trying to get to you to fight, to make sure no spells are coming at you. You're used to dueling in a pair. You're not in a proper place to block all the hexes coming at you. Nobody will have your back tonight."
She resisted the urge to punch him by taking a few steps backwards. She had found that their bind seemed to let their anger levels rise to unmanageable levels much quicker than they were used to. The anger was blinding— had her shaking and unable to think through the things she was saying before they fell from her lips.
She needed more space from him. This room was too small; Kingsly and Moody were just standing there, watching, like they wouldn't start throwing spells at each other at any moment.
She took a cleansing breath, trying to remember the calming techniques she used while being tortured; times when she couldn't afford to show any true weaknesses.
"I assure you, I am more than capable of handling myself tonight. You need not worry about my ability. "
He scoffed. "It's not your ability so much as your heroism."
"Meaning?"
"The Order is severely outnumbered. The binding was a great idea and it will eventually win you this war, but it doesn't mean you won't suffer any casualties tonight."
"We are aware of the calculated risk, thank you Malfoy," she bit out. Her idle hands were beginning to clench and she shucked a tie from her wrist and began braiding her hair.
"Well if one of the casualties is you tonight, then what?"
Hermione's brow furrowed. "Then you're rid of me a lot quicker than you originally intended?"
"Don't be daft, Granger." His left leg twitched and Hermione recognized his urge to pace. She'd never seen him do it before. She wasn't sure how she knew what it was, but she was sure.
"If I'm dead then you'll carry on your mission like you agreed in your promise, until you can create a new Unbreakable Vow following the raid."
"That's not the point, you bint." His voice was loud and his tone held more emotion than he'd let slip in since their school days. "If you die, and I fall in the battle, or if you're hurt and I seek you out, don't you think that'll be more than just a bit obvious?"
"I'm not going to get hurt," she whispered. The fight had left her, leaving behind exhaustion in its wake.
"It's too big of a risk."
"Repress your urges then," she snapped. "If you can't control them, I hardly see how that's my fault."
His mouth was open, probably with something that would get her blood pumping again, but Moody cut him off with a raised hand.
"We'll test it out. Up on the roof."
Hermione turned to him, kissing the extra hours of rest goodbye. "What're your intentions?"
Moody headed to the door, his large cane making echoing thumps against the wood. "Meet up top in five minutes. You and Malfoy will prove this theory right or wrong. If it goes well, then you'll be approved for the raid."
With that, they were out of the door and she was left alone with Malfoy, her fingers twitching with the urge to hurt him.
They stood in silence for a moment more, before his hand was on her back and guiding her out of the room and up the stairs. She spent the trip up wondering how they could go from at each other's throats to calm and mission driven within minutes.
---
On the roof, she was met with Ron and Dean along with Moody and Kingsely, who were seated in chairs.
"Heya, Mione." Ron greeted her with a light fist to her shoulder. She smiled up at him and nodded at Dean. Malfoy stood silently at her side.
"The goal of this is to see if the pair can fight separately without putting the entire Order at risk. Thomas and Weasley will be throwing nonlethal and easily cured jinxes at each of you, and your goal is to learn your instinctual reaction and try to defect from it."
Hermione nodded and took her place in the middle of the roof, her wand held loosely in her hand.
Ron and Dean stared at each other, seemingly conversing through their bind, before Dean stepped up and joined her.
"I'm going to use a bruising hex, alright? We brought some Essence of Murtlap up, so we'll be able to heal it quickly."
Hermione nodded. Bruising hexes, better known as contusion hexes, were normally used to cause severe damage to inner organs. The spell required target accuracy and when they hit were often fatal. The yielder of the spell needed to have complete control of their magic in order to not do severe damage.
"Get on with it, then."
Dean cast the spell nonverbally, and as Hermione braced herself for the impact, she found a shield thrown up in front of her. She glared to the side, where Malfoy's wand was pointed at her.
"Right," he said dazedly. "Well, good to know that will happen." He brought his wand back down to his side, pink tinging his cheeks. "Try it again."
It took four more casts before Malfoy was able to suppress the urge to shield her. She was so surprised he hadn't done it that it was actually a shock when the blunt force hit her forearm. She let out a curse and Malfoy was at her side, Essence of Murtlap in hand.
"Malfoy," she hissed out through her teeth. He glanced up at her with a glazed look in his eyes. The pressure from the injury disappeared almost immediately. "You're not supposed to be running towards me."
He didn't say anything, just methodically rubbed in the oil. He stood, headed back to the sidelines and set the bottle back down on the table.
Hermione sighed, looking toward Dean. "Let's go again, I suppose."
This time, Malfoy threw up a shield and she fought the urge to walk over and strangle him.
After two more tries, the hex hit her in her core and she stumbled back two steps. She glanced over at her partner, surprised he wasn't by her side already. He had taken three steps forward, but was able to stop himself.
She smiled at him and stuck her hand out. He threw her the Murtlap Essence and she applied it quickly, tossing it back and facing Dean.
"Again."
He hit her, and when she found Malfoy was still rooted to his spot, she commanded him to repeat the spell. After being hit three more times, Malfoy let out a warning growl and Hermione relented. She walked to the side, limping a bit because of the spell that had hit her calf, and let him dote on her, applying the oil himself while she pretended to not notice his concern.
"How was it?" She whispered the words, hoping the eyes on them would not be able to hear their conversation.
"Don't go getting any ideas," he bit out, gently massaging the most painful welt. "None of what just happened means anything. It's just your stupid bind."
She would roll her eyes if she hadn't known from the beginning that he'd react this way. It was fine, truly. She'd just wanted to know what to expect while it was him out there.
"I'm not telling you anything, you'll have to suffer just like I did."
She snatched her arm away from him and felt victorious when his fingers chased after her. "Would you mind staying out of my head unless I've invited you?"
He threw her a malicious grin as he headed towards the center of the roof, walking backwards. "Sorry Granger, but you've given me the invitation to punish you with this bind. Can't get mad when I take advantage of it."
Hermione was able to stave off her urges with more ease, much to Malfoy's displeasure. She had only dashed out there once, and let Ron fire off six stinging hexes in a row before Malfoy stared daggers at her. She laughed, but called Ron off and ran over to her partner, pulling off his robes to rub in the essence.
"Six was a bit unnecessary, don't you think?" He was sitting on the ground with his legs crossed at the ankles.
She shrugged. "That's what you get for doubting my plan."
He looked down at the arm she held in her hands, studying it carefully. "I'm not as good at any of this as you. I don't trust myself to make the smart decision if your life is in danger." She opened her mouth to speak but he held up a hand. "And don't you bloody think it's because this bond has softened me towards you. You're still barmy and annoying and it's amazing we haven't offed each other yet." He pulled his arm away and began rolling down his sleeves and redressing. "It just seems that my brain considers you as much a part of me as my own body, so I can't help but protect you."
"I understand, Malfoy. But I'm an excellent fighter and tonight I'll be able to prove that to you, just like you were just able to prove to yourself that you're capable of letting me get hit without reacting."
He stood and reached down a hand to help her up. She accepted, pretending to not notice the roughness of it.
"I still don't like the idea, but I won't fight you on it any longer."
She nodded, walking towards the door and off the training ground, leaving the other four on the roof to discuss what they'd just witnessed. It was something they'd never seen, a bound pair actively working to not fight and protect each other.
Once she was at her bedroom door, she turned and leant against it. Malfoy was just a few inches away, standing awkwardly.
"I'm going to try and get some rest before the raid tonight. When are you heading out?"
He lifted his sleeve and checked his watch. "It's nearly six in the afternoon. I should probably apparate back to the Manor and prepare. The oldest of the Death Eaters are probably well on their way too drunk already, and I need them to see me so they can't claim I was never there."
Hermione nodded, lips pressing together. "So I guess I won't see you again."
He shook his head. "I'm hoping I won't see you tonight, either."
She scoffed. "Please, you won't be able to stay away from me."
"That's what I'm afraid of."
His hands were stuffed in his pockets and he was glancing off to the side, down the hallway to where the sun was setting out of the window. He was nervous; she could feel the waves of anxiety pulling at their bind.
"We'll get through this," she whispered, fighting the need to grab his hand. "Do you know when you'll be back here?"
He shook his head, blonde locks falling into his eyes before he pushed them back. "It depends on how severe the losses are tonight. The Dark Lord will not be happy. Expect retaliation."
"Will you be able to tell me what it is, when you know?"
"If I know. He might not tell me. I'm high up on the chain of command, but I'm not at the top."
She folded her hands in front of her and stared down at them. "If you're unable to get away, I think our bind is strong enough that you can communicate using it, even at a great distance."
He hesitated, mouth opening twice before any words came out. "That's bad, is it not?"
"Well it's not exactly like we planned, no." She picked at her cuticles absentmindedly until he swatted her hand away.
"How is that? All we ever do is fight."
She opened the door to her room, glancing back at him while she spoke.
"Maybe fighting is how we bond." She headed towards her bed, closing her door with a flick of her wand. "See you out there, Malfoy."