Warning: This chapter contains an episode of self-harm.
March 2003
Ginny's pregnancy went as smoothly as could have been hoped. She was physically drained from the toll it took on her Magic, but aside from sleeping most of the day and refusing most of the food Hermione had sent, her pregnancy symptoms were relatively minor. After hearing about Narcissa Malfoy's near death during pregnancy, Hermione was paranoid about what kind of toll magical pregnancy could take. But Ginny seemed to handle pregnancy easily.
"It's a Prewett thing; easily pregnant, easy pregnancies," Ginny said with a shrug when Hermione asked.
"That's lucky, I'd hate to be leaving you alone like this if you were as sick as the books say witches can get from pregnancy," Hermione said, studying the bright yellow orb fluttering over Ginny's stomach. "The baby has a good magical signature; it seems healthy. But I'm not very practiced with any of these spells."
Hermione flipped to a different page in the Guide to Effective Care in Magical Pregnancy and Childbirth and practiced a charm to check for placenta previa.
"Have you heard anything from Harry and Ron?" Ginny asked after a few minutes of Hermione manipulating diagnostic charms.
Hermione nodded and cancelled all the diagnostics hanging around Ginny. "They're back at Hogwarts again. They haven't sent any messages."
"Harry sends his stag at night. I think he must do it when he's on lookout duty. It came into my room last night," Ginny pressed her lips together and looked on the verge of tears.
Hermione squeezed her hand.
"I feel so bad I'm lying to him," Ginny said, tugging at the tips of her hair. "And that I'm making you lie too. I'm sorry. I should have been more careful."
"It's alright. You don't need to worry about me." Hermione gave a weary shrug as she shrank the book and slipped it into a bag.
Ginny leaned forward and grabbed Hermione's left wrist. "Well, I don't have very much to do in here. And I think you need someone to worry about you. You're so thin." Ginny ran her thumb over Hermione's ulna as though to illustrate how the bones jutted out. Hermione jerked her wrist free and pulled her sleeves down. "You don't look like you sleep at all. You look like you're made of paper. Don't you have anyone?"
Hermione looked away. "Well, George has offered," she said with a wry smile. "But I don't think he really meant it."
Ginny poked her. "Be serious. You can't survive this war alone. No one can carry it. We survive together." Ginny looked Hermione over carefully. "I mean, maybe you were alright before. But—you—you don't look like you're coping anymore. Ever since Christmas, I don't think I've seen you sleep. Don't you have anyone at all?"
Hermione scrunched her nose distastefully. "I think I've already mentioned that cathartic shagging is not my thing." She scoffed as she shook her head. "Adding a fuck-buddy is hardly going to improve my coping skills."
Ginny rolled her eyes and shook her head. "I'm not saying get a fuck-buddy. You don't even have anyone to talk to or get a hug from after a bad day. Whenever anyone tries to reach out to you, you push them away, the way you did with Harry on Christmas. I don't understand why you don't let anyone share the load. I know that look in your eyes; it's the same one Harry gets when the war is crushing him. But Harry knows he has Ron no matter what, and me, and you, and the family, and DA, and Remus and Tonks, and the Order, and even his stupid Muggle fights when it gets too heavy. He's got all that to fall back on when he needs to put it down for a little while. You need to do that too."
Hermione stared down at her nails and fidgeted with the cuticles for a minute. "What load do I have that anyone would be willing to share with me?" Her voice was bitter.
She turned and looked out the window for a minute before looking back down at her hands. "It's worse, Ginny, to think someone is there for you to lean on and then find they aren't when you need them most. I can't—I can't take that risk. I wouldn't be able to handle it."
Ginny gave a frustrated huff and poked one of the glamoured pustules on her wrist. "Harry and Ron get angry at you because they care, though. You can't assume that people are going to let you down and just never give anyone a chance. What if they'd be there, and you never trusted them enough to find that out?"
Hermione twisted her wand in her hands. "What if they aren't? When I really need them to?"
There was a pause, and Ginny gave a sad sigh.
Hermione closed her eyes for a moment before reopening them. "This way has become habit for me, Ginny. I don't know how to do it differently."
"What about me?" Ginny said, with a small smile.
Hermione looked at her. "You?"
"Why can't you talk to me? See? We've been friends for years; we've roomed together for nearly four years. But you never even considered that I'm someone for you to talk to. Even before I became an Order member, Harry and I were still able to talk about things. He could tell me enough. You can talk to me. You can trust me. I won't judge. I'm trusting you. I'm here for you. If you need someone, you can talk to me about anything."
Hermione stared at Ginny guiltily. "Ginny... I—it's not a matter of me not trusting you. I—just—I don't—"
Ginny's expression fell. "Never mind. I'm not trying to make you. I just wanted to you to know you have someone to talk to. If you ever wanted to. Even if I disagree with you, I'm not going to stop being your friend."
"Thanks, Ginny," Hermione said, looking away. "I do appreciate it. If I could—I would talk if I could. But I don't even know where to start. And—" she glanced at her watch, "I need to go. Padma's shift is starting soon, and I'm still helping her manage it."
"Okay," Ginny sighed. "I'll let you go then. Is Padma alright?"
"As well as can be expected. She's still adapting to the prosthetic; it gets sore and she tires easily—the charm work is not as good as it could be. Flitwick and I are still tinkering with the balance."
Hermione gathered her books and potions up and shoved them all into a bag before she walked out of Ginny's room; making a show of removing all kinds of protective wards from her body and applying cleansing charms before heading to change her clothes.
On her way to the hospital ward, she stopped and leaned against the wall for a few minutes. She pressed her palms flat against the wallpaper to try to stop the trembling in her hands.
She hadn't been able to sleep for more than a hour or two at a time since Christmas. She took Dreamless Sleep potion once a week on Monday night, so her hands wouldn't shake during training with Draco.
Everyone else congregated in the sitting room at night when they couldn't sleep, but Hermione found herself unable to bear being there. She stalled the conversations; people tried to cheer her up and include her. She was too tired to pretend.
Most nights, when the house was quiet, she'd sit alone in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place, trying to find something to do to to fill all the cold empty hours until sunrise.
She pulled her hands away from the wall and went to take her shift.
Hermione was on the stairs with Padma, helping her practice ascending the stairs without a cane, when the door of Grimmauld Place burst open.
"No! Let go! Let go!" Harry was screaming and trying to tear himself out of Remus' arms as Remus dragged him through the door. "Fuck. LET GO OF ME!! We can't leave them!!"
Harry punched Remus in the face as he struggled to break loose.
"Someone stun him!" Remus snapped as he slammed Harry to the floor and pinned him there in order to keep him from twisting free.
"God, no. Fuck. You left Ron! LET GO! YOU CAN'T MAKE ME LEAVE HIM!!!"
Hermione whipped her wand out and caught Harry in the side of the head with a stunner. Harry slumped down limp.
"Don't wake him unless he's restrained!" Remus snapped, turning and rushing out the door and apparating before anyone could ask questions.
Hermione left Padma on the stairs and hurried down to Harry's limp body. She cast a diagnostic, checking him over carefully. He was covered in dirt and had a concussion and several fractured ribs; several nails had been torn off, and he was carrying cursed injuries.
"Someone send a patronus to Kingsley and Moody," Hermione said in a sharp voice as she countered the curses. She levitated Harry off the floor and took him up to the hospital.
It didn't take long to repair Harry's injuries. Then she poured several strengtheners and restorative potions down his throat.
She hovered over him, wiping his face clean and watching the colour slowly come back to his features. She pushed his wiry hair back from his face and traced a fingertip along his scar.
"Oh Harry, Harry, Harry," she murmured under her breath and pressed her forehead down against his. "Please, Remus, bring Ron back."
She stayed beside Harry until Neville appeared, accompanied by Charlie who was carrying an unconscious Tonks. Padma came in behind them. Neville's wand arm was broken in multiple horrifying angles.
"What happened?" Hermione asked as Padma levitated Tonks into a bed.
"Fuck if I know," Neville said. He was so pale his skin was nearly translucent. Hermione cast a diagnostic; he'd been hit in the arm with the acid curse and he also showed signs of being crucio'd. "They must've expected we might eventually use the tunnels. We tripped an alarm or something. Suddenly there were more than a dozen Death Eaters in there. There were anti-apparition wards; we didn't even think to check for them while digging. We held them back and Remus blew a hole in the roof of the tunnel and dragged Harry out first. We tried to follow. Ron got hit with something. Anthony and I were trying to get him but they got my wand arm with the acid curse. Anthony countered it, used a leviosa and threw me out of the tunnel. Idiot, let his guard down. I saw the killing curse hit him. I don't know how Tonks got out. No one else—got out. When Remus got back, he just made us apparate."
"So—is Ron alive?" Hermione's voice shook as she removed the bones in his arm. Neville was so dazed he didn't even react.
"I don't know—"
"We sent word to Mum," Charlie said in a wooden voice. "To find out what the clock says."
Ron's hand on the Weasley family clock steadily read Mortal Peril.
Hermione went personally and stood staring at it beside Molly Weasley, who had taken up vigil there. Hermione felt half-afraid that if she turned away it might move abruptly to "Lost" beside Percy's.
It took half an hour before she could force herself to tear her eyes away.
"Molly, there's a meeting in an hour, about what to do. I—can stay with Arthur, if you want to go," Hermione finally said, resting a hand lightly on Mrs Weasley's shoulder.
Molly didn't look away from the clock. She shook her head. "No. I have to stay here, dear. The boys will be there. I have to stay here."
Hermione withdrew her hand. "I'll make you some tea before I go."
The meeting was seething.
"We're not going to attempt any suicide missions to get into Hogwarts," Kingsley said as soon as the debriefing was completed. He was utterly calm despite the tension vibrating through the air. "Getting into the school was already a top priority mission and it continues to be. Given our inability to even access the school, we cannot immediately plan a rescue to find a single prisoner inside the castle. Until we have better information, a rescue attempt is off the table."
Charlie smacked the table angrily, and the meeting descended into shouting for several minutes.
"We can't leave him there. He's an Order member. They're probably torturing him. What if Lucius Malfoy gets his hands on him?" Harry's chest was heaving with panic and rage despite the Draught of Peace and sedatives Hermione had given him prior to approving his rennervation.
"There is nothing that can be done until we have better intelligence," Kingsley said, unmoved. He was always exactingly calm during meetings. His eyes darted around the room for a moment before stopping on Harry. "While you recuperate, Moody is already heading a new mission at Hogwarts. We are fully aware of the urgency of the situation, Harry."
"I don't need to recuperate," Harry snapped, his teeth bared. "I need you to help me get Ron back. There has to be something we can do. We have prisoners, we could do an exchange."
Kingsley drew a long breath and shook his head. "If the Order attempted to open a negotiation channel, we could alert them to the value of their prisoner. You're grieving; until you have a new partner assigned to you, you are restricted from further missions."
Harry stood up and walked out of meeting without another word.
"Keep an eye on Harry," Kingsley said. "Remus, Fred, Charlie, don't let him out of your sight."
As the room cleared, Kingsley remained at the end of the table. Hermione stood up to leave.
"Granger, a word before you go," Kingsley said.
She stopped and turned back. Kingsley cast a privacy charm around them. She curled her hands into fists behind her back.
"You need to speak with Malfoy. I want everything about Hogwarts, immediately."
Hermione stared at Kingsley guardedly. "Now?"
"Soon as you can, wait there until you speak to him. Tell him it's critical. Make clear this is a top priority for the Order."
She nodded and started to turn before stopping. "Should I tell him why? That we're trying to get Ron back?"
Kingsley nodded slowly as he looked back at her. His expression was closed but his gaze as he studied her was meticulous. She often wondered what conclusions he was drawing.
"Yes. If he has a chance to get Ron back, that would be preferable to the losses we'll suffer attacking Hogwarts. I doubt they'll be foolish enough to kill him; Harry's tendencies are too well known. Until we get Ron back, Harry's useless. There are no solutions that won't be a risk for the Order. Losing Ron could easily be a critical blow for us."
Hermione's mouth twitched at the unspoken implication. It was worth sacrificing Draco to recover Ron. Of course. That was why she'd consented in the first place. She knew that calculus to be true. Because war was larger than anyone.
But—but—
She swallowed. "Alright. I'll tell him," she said in a dead voice.
After a moment, she added "You realize Harry's going to try to stage a rescue on his own."
The corner of Kingsley's mouth twitched. "That's why I assigned Remus, Fred and Charlie. If I put myself on his detail, he'll try to go solo. He's less likely to leave them behind. I'm hopeful Remus can talk sense into him if he does anything stupid. Unless we put him in stasis somewhere the Weasleys can't access, I don't expect there's any way to stop him."
Hermione started to speak and then hesitated. Kingsley arched an eyebrow.
Her jaw tensed. "Ginny. Should we tell him about Ginny? It might ground him slightly."
She watched Kingsley calculate the question. She had realised a few years into the war that Kingsley Shacklebolt had been a Slytherin.
"Not yet. If we can't recover Ron within a week, we'll use it," Kingsley said finally. "I don't want any information getting to them. If we're lucky, they'll preoccupy themselves by trying to gather their own intelligence until Moody and I can find a solution."
"Alright."
Hermione left the room and walked straight out of Grimmauld Place.
The room in the shack was cold. She wrapped her arms tightly around herself while she stood waiting for Draco to appear.
He came in less than five minutes.
He studied her face. "I assume this is about what happened at Hogsmeade."
Hermione gave a sharp nod. "They got Ron."
Draco's expression flickered. "It's Ron? I only heard it was a Weasley."
"It's Ron. We—we need him back. It's vital. We have to recover him."
Draco's expression grew cold. "Attacking Hogwarts would be suicide. The place is a fortress."
"We have to recover him," Hermione said without wavering. "It's not negotiable. I was told to tell you it's critical." Draco's eyes flashed faintly. "Ron is crucial within the Order. Kingsley wants everything you can provide about the Hogwarts prison."
He drew a short breath and jerked his head up. "Consider it done."
"Thank you," Hermione said, trying to catch his eyes for a moment. What if he died? What if this were the last time she ever saw him?
He didn't look at her. "I'll call you when I have something."
"Thank you, Draco."
He gave a hiss of irritation. His jaw clenched. "I'd prefer if you stopped calling me that."
Hermione felt her stomach drop. "Draco, when I kissed you—"
His expression grew vicious. "Really, do we have time to discuss this right now?"
Hermione swallowed hard but couldn't stop herself. "Is there a point when you will speak to me again? Are you ever going to even look at me?" Her voice was pleading.
Draco looked up sharply, and a cruel glint entered his eyes as they locked squarely on Hermione. It was like a punch in the gut to suddenly have his full attention levelled on her again.
"You want me to look at you, Granger?" Draco said, his tone was light—almost cajoling—but there was a freezing edge to it. He stalked forward and closed in on her. "Fine. I'm looking. It's delightful, I must say, to see all the guilt in your eyes."
He sneered down at her.
"You know, I used to think the circumstances of my servitude to the Dark Lord were as cruel an enslavement as anyone could conceive. But I admit, it pales somewhat beside you."
Hermione stared up at him and couldn't breathe.
"I suppose no one realises how light one set of manacles is until they have two," he said, studying her expression as his tone grew musing. "At least before I could console myself that it wasn't my fault; that accepting everything was simply the best I could do to keep my mother safe. It's different when I have no one to blame but myself."
His hand came up and rested on her throat. "After all, I did choose you. You were so determined to do whatever it took, but you will always be a Gryffindor at heart. I envied the fact you still had that space to be naive; to credit me with goodness, and fail to realise that Moody and Shacklebolt had been setting me up from the beginning. When you begged for a chance to heal me, I gave in. When you touched me, I didn't push you away. I thought, where's the harm? It all ends soon enough. Life has been cold for such a long time."
Hermione shook faintly.
He reached up and his fingertips ghosted across her cheek. Hermione closed her eyes and drew a sharp breath. He was so close she could smell the oakmoss and papyrus-sedge that clung to his skin.
"By the time I realised I'd miscalculated, you'd already forced your way in. You were so obvious, and it only made it worse. The fact you'd let me do anything to you if it meant saving the very friends that left you to be sold; that nothing I did would drive you off. At least when I sold myself and took the mark, my mother prostrated herself and begged to be the one to take it instead. I suppose, in some regards, I'm luckier than you."
Hermione gave a low sob.
"Then, after you nearly died in Hampshire, I thought, at least I can keep her alive. She deserves to have someone who cares enough to try to keep her alive. I thought eventually you'd give up. But of course, you will do anything to save the people you feel responsible for. Of course you'd weaponise your own guilt in order to use mine." He gave a low bitter laugh. "I'm sure there is something poetic in it all, but right now all I feel is a new set of manacles."
His hand wavered for a moment before he withdrew it and stepped away from her.
"So forgive me if I dislike looking at you, I'm still adjusting to all the ways the new ones chafe."
He turned and apparated silently away.
Hermione sank to the floor and rested her head on her knees while she fought to breathe.
She returned quietly to Grimmauld Place and found her potion closet had been broken into. She checked the inventory and found several doses of polyjuice potion and two whole vials of veritaserum had been stolen. None of the concealed compartments had been touched.
Padma feigned ignorance when Hermione asked about it. "I was on another floor. By the time I got down the stairs, whoever did it was gone," Padma said with a shrug.
"I can't imagine what anyone needs with eighty doses of veritaserum," Hermione said in a biting tone. "You'll need to recalculate rationing until the next batch finishes next month. Perhaps next time you forget to activate the alarms when the wards are breached, ensure the thieves understand how veritaserum dosage works."
Padma flushed and limped away.
Hermione set to replacing the wards on the closet and then went to check on the occupants in the hospital ward.
Having regular shifts in the hospital while Padma recovered was a relief. Something to do. Something to focus on. Something that was good; that didn't add to the intricate web of deceit she spent most of her time being strangled by.
It was the only thing Hermione did that didn't make her want to mutilate herself in penance afterward.
Not that it mattered whether she were penitent or not. Not that anyone cared.
When she sat alone in the kitchen at night she could whatever she wanted.
One line the first time. She'd watched the blood well up and slowly turn into a droplet that slid across her skin toward the table.
She'd flicked her wand and the blood vanished. Another flick and the cut was gone too.
The next night there had been more. The hours crawled past, night after cold night while she cut and cut. As many razor fine lacerations as she wanted. She could heal them all without so much as a scar.
She was good at it. Fixing external wounds. It was an exceptional talent of hers. It was something to do at night.
When she emerged from a visit with Ginny, she found Harry standing outside the door.
He looked feverish. His skin was pale, but his eyes were glittering brightly.
"Is she doing alright?" he asked before Hermione had shut the door behind herself.
"She's doing fine. There isn't any change yet," Hermione said before Harry's expression could become hopeful. She removed all the protective wards and cast cleansing charms on herself quickly.
He nodded rapidly. "Does she know about Ron yet?"
"I told her. I told her I'd let her know as soon as we got him back." She rested her hand on Harry's arm. "We're going to get him back, Harry."
"I know. I know we will," Harry said, then he glanced sharply around as though he suspected someone might be eavesdropping. "Can you—can you come with me?"
Hermione eyed him worriedly. "What is it, Harry?"
Harry shrugged with false carelessness. "I just need a healer, and you're the best one."
Hermione's heart stalled. "What have you done, Harry? Have you—have you tortured someone?"
Harry's head jerked up, and he stared at her, horrified. "What? No. Why would you think that?"
Hermione gave a faint gasp of relief and closed her eyes briefly. "Someone broke into my potion closet and stole almost our entire veritaserum supply for the month. I don't know what other things you might be doing."
Harry eyed her and shoved his hands into his pockets. "We just went and got a few snatchers. None of them know occlumency. Veritaserum works."
"What do you need me for then?"
"I'll tell you once we get there," Harry caught her by the wrist and pulled his invisibility cloak over their heads. He led her out of Grimmauld Place and apparated.
They reappeared at an empty lot. Harry reached out and grabbed something invisible in midair. There was the screech of an old gate and Harry stepped forward, still holding Hermione by the wrist. As she followed him, a small cottage started appearing, surrounded by a large garden and a pond which she and Harry were standing beside.
"Where are we?" Hermione glanced around.
"It was the Tonks' house," Harry said. "Remus and Tonks re-warded it so Remus would have a safe place to transform."
Hermione stared in disbelief. "Tonks comes back to the house her parents were murdered in?"
Harry looked up at the building and his eyes grew wistful. "It's her childhood home. She got married in the living room. She says she had to come back. It's all that's left of her parents. If my parents' house in Godric's Hollow were still standing, I'd go back there too."
He stood staring at the cottage for a minute before rousing himself. "Come on."
Harry led the way along a winding gravel path up to the front door. The entry opened into the sitting room with a dining room beyond. Charlie, Fred, Remus and Tonks were all standing around a table. They looked up when Harry entered. Hermione followed him into the room.
"I got a healer," Harry announced as he walked in.
Everyone stared back in disbelief.
"Hermione?" Fred said in an incredulous tone. "I thought you were getting a field healer."
"They don't know enough," Harry said flatly as he walked up to the table. Hermione hung back. "It's been three days; we don't know what kind of injuries he might have. Hermione can heal anything."
"And the last time she was on a mission was when?" Charlie said, arching an eyebrow as he stared at her.
Harry looked over to Hermione.
"Three and a half years," Hermione said, avoiding everyone's eyes.
"We can't take her," Fred said, folding his arms. "The Order needs her. There's no replacing her as a healer, and she has no experience in the field."
"What the Order needs is to stop losing people, or there won't be anyone left for her to heal." Harry said in a furious voice.
"Padma. Padma's good with healing, and she's used to being on a battlefield." Remus said, studying Harry rather than Hermione.
Harry shook his head. "Padma's only got one foot. She might be ready for missions with a prosthetic in a few months, but she isn't now. Pomfrey is in her sixties and gets winded on the stairs. I need someone who can move fast. Hermione doesn't need to be used to fighting. We can cover her." Harry's jaw jutted out obstinately.
"What are you planning? The five of you can't possibly think you can break into Hogwarts for a rescue," Hermione said, clutching her wand.
"Ron's not at Hogwarts," Harry said matter-of-factly, tapping a scroll of parchment. "We went out and got some snatchers. The word is that they moved him closer to London for interrogation. There's a smaller prison near Cambridge."
"Near Cambridge?" Hermione echoed. There were no known prisons in Cambridge. Draco would have mentioned it. "And you got this from snatchers?"
"We get a lot of information from snatchers. Most of the prison blueprints we use for our rescues come from snatchers, you know," Harry said with a nod, looking down at a rough outline of a building.
Hermione twitched and felt cold. Moody had attributed most of Draco's intelligence on prison blueprints as being from snatchers. She stepped closer and stared at the blueprint for a minute before looking back up.
"Harry—this could be a trap," she said as gently as she could.
"Yeah. Any of our intelligence could be a trap. But it's been pretty good until now. I'm not going to doubt it the time it could mean getting Ron back. We have to go today. Tomorrow is the full moon," Harry said in a tight voice.
Hermione looked at Charlie, Fred, Remus, and Tonks.
"It's as good as anything else we've gotten," Remus said, giving her a small smile. "The Order needs Ron back. The Death Eaters will probably expect us to delay and then use a large force, if we get in and out before they expect us, there will be fewer casualties."
Hermione stood, wavering. If she exposed Draco to everyone in the room, there was no guarantee it would even stop them. It could just shatter the Order.
"Will you come, Hermione, to help me get Ron back?" Harry turned from the table and was studying her seriously.
"Harry—," she started in a pleading voice.
"I don't know what they might have done to him after so many days," Harry interrupted her, his voice thick. There was a tremor underlying it. "He could be—really, really hurt. That's why I need you to come. You're the best. You're the best Healer. If he's too hurt, we might not be able to get him out without you. But I'm going to go—I have to go get him."
"Until we get Ron back, Harry's useless. There are no solutions that won't be a risk for the Order. Losing Ron could easily be a critical blow for us."
Hermione swallowed. "Of course. Of course I'll come."
Harry gave a relieved sigh and grinned at her. "Good. Come see the plan."
The plan wasn't the Order's best. Strategy had always been Ron's strength and everyone could feel his absence and the need for him as they looked down at the blueprint before them.
Hermione's job was to stay down and let everyone else deal with any guards or fighting. She was supposed to heal Ron as rapidly as possible once they found him in case they had to fight their way out. If there was a firefight, she was to get Ron out. Once she had gotten him clear, everyone else would retreat.
Hermione stared down at the blueprint. It was a trap. The layout was too obvious, too detailed for a snatcher to know. She gnawed her lip as she considered what to do.
"Alright. Everyone get ready. We'll head out in fifteen minutes," Harry said.
Hermione fidgeted nervously. "I need to get my kit. You didn't give me a chance to bring my supplies."
Harry turned to stare at her, his green eyes narrowed. "Are you trying to sneak back and contact Kingsley so he can stop us?"
The corner of Hermione's mouth twitched. "No. I won't."
"Promise?"
"I promise, I'll just get my kit from Grimmauld Place and leave. I won't tell anyone in the Order or the Resistance."
Harry gave a slow nod. "Alright. Go fast. If you aren't back in fifteen minutes we're going to leave without you."
Hermione rushed out of the cottage and apparated to the shack.
She waited for a few minutes. She felt cold with terror.
Moody was in Scotland. Kingsley was out gathering reconnaissance reports. There was no one to contact quick enough. No one who could or would stop Harry.
If she sent a patronus, she had nothing to say but that Harry was walking into a trap somewhere near Cambridge. It wasn't enough information for Kingsley to act on in time.
If Draco knew something, if he could tell her something concrete, she might be able to use it to dissuade Harry.
She gnawed at her fingernails and twisted at the collar of her shirt.
Finally she swallowed hard. Draco wasn't coming. It had been nearly ten minutes.
She was out of time.
She conjured a piece of paper and scribbled a note for him with the the relevant details. Location. Strategy. Her suspicions. So if he came, he'd at least know why she'd called him.
She used a sticking charm to place it in the center of the floor where it was impossible to miss and headed to Grimmauld Place.
She sprinted up the stairs to her closet and pulled out her healing kit. It was almost identical to the one she'd given Draco but with a few more specialized potions and bandages and splints. She shrank it down and stuffed it into her pocket and then pulled up a floorboard and snatched up her knives; strapping one onto her left arm under her shirt and then the other onto her calf under her trousers. She started to reach for her cloak but drew her hand back. Too obvious. It could raise questions.
She stood up and rushed back out the door.
Harry and everyone else was standing in front of the Tonks cottage when she appeared.
"Wotcher, Hermione, we thought you split," Tonks said.
Hermione shook her head. "No. I just had to make sure I had everything. I don't usually heal outside of the hospital ward."
Tonks nodded. "Alright. Grab on. I'm apparating everyone since I did the scouting."
Hermione gripped Tonks' arm, and the group vanished with sharp squeezing sensation and reappeared in a forest. A large, derelict, stone house stood in a nearby clearing.
"There's an anti-apparition ward about halfway across the field. Once you've got Ron, Hermione, get him past the wards and take him back to the cottage. That way we can make sure he's not tagged or traced before we go to one of the safe houses," Harry said quietly.
"Alright," Hermione said, nodding as she stared at the building. Her heart was beating so hard it hurt. She fidgeted with her wand and felt through her shirt to reassure herself that her knife was still there.
Harry, Remus, Fred, and Charlie started constructing an intricate detection spell while Hermione and Tonks kept watch.
They cast the web of magic off their wands, and it slowly drifted out of the forest, barely visible unless it was being looked for. It floated across the field toward the house, shimmering slightly at different points to indicate the various wards. As it phased through the building there were small flashes of red light...
"Two at the door," Harry said.
"Four upstairs," Fred added.
"More than ten in the basement," Charlie said. "Bet that's where they've got Ron."
"We go fast," Harry said. His wand was clenched in his fist, and his eyes were glittering as he stared at the building. He was bouncing on the balls of his feet. "With the detection wards in there, we've got ten minutes tops before reinforcements show up. Hermione, all you do is get Ron out."