It was said that during Samhain, the veil between this world and the next is at the thinnest. That the voices of those long past can be heard as whispers on the hills and that the tendrils of fog that drape across the landscape can swirl and twist into specters of the lords and ladies buried in the barrows scattered through the hills.
The Unspeakables that haunt the Death Chamber had received a tip that a small coven of necromancers were planning on tapping into the ley lines below a barrow in Northern Ireland and taking advantage of the thin veil to hopefully open one of the passageways to the Otherworld that is only spoken about in hushed tones in dark rooms.
Hermione found herself standing on dew damp moss, staring out over the hills. Her eyes caught sight of the small band of people in long dark robes making their way through the landscape. Disillusioned, she slowly and carefully walked down the hillside, her footing sure and her wand carefully tucked away in it’s holster on her thigh. These necromancers have been a thorn in her side for the past two years but they had always been one step ahead and the “anonymous tips” had always been oh-so conveniently vague and painfully late. Last summer, a group of Unspeakables and aurors had clashed with some of these wizards while they were attempting to steal the skull of Mary Magdalene. It had been a bloody ordeal and just when they finally caught one of these coven members, the witch had stared Hermione boldly in the eyes and proceeded to chant an incantation she had never heard before and promptly collapsed dead at her feet. It took weeks and a few visits to the pensieve to properly translate and sort out what the incantation was so that they could be prepared to silence anymore captives that attempted to use it.
If Hermione was being honest, she wasn’t even sure if this coven could be called necromancers or if that was actually an insult to other witches and wizards that dabbled in shadow work and the death arts. The only think she knew for certain, was that these bastards were driving her up the fucking wall and causing her an endless stream of paperwork. Not to mention that they were detracting from the amount of time she was able to spend studying in the other rooms at the Department of Mysteries. There was so much to uncover and so much to learn in the bellows of the Ministry of Magic. However, she was currently cavorting across the landscape of Northern Ireland, muddy knees and all, trying to track this coven instead of spending her time buried into a dusty tome or drinking pumpkin juice with spiced rum in a pub with her friends. It was rather frustrating and terribly incensing.
Hermione looked behind her to where she knew the other Unspeakables were also trekking down the hillside. Siobhan and Farah were allowing her to take point on this mission but they had been tracking this coven longer than she had and Hermione knew that they were just as enraged about the whole ordeal as she was. The three of them slowly made their way along the trail, being sure to keep a distance from the coven as to not tip them off. Hermione sent up a silent prayer to Circe for her tracing spell holding out between the three of them so they didn’t accidently get separated while disillusioned. The spell was still something she was working on and the arithmancy was quite complex but this was the maiden voyage in the field for it and it was holding true so far.
The coven member that was walking out front appeared to be holding some form of dowsing rod to track the ley lines. The anonymous tip was holding true so far and a warm buzz skittered across Hermione’s skin. The sun had set and the sky was a gorgeous shade of dusky pinks and oranges fading out into twilight. Casting a lumos to prevent herself from tripping on gnarled roots was out of the question and Hermione had to make sure that she was paying equal attention to the witches and wizards in front of her as well as the ground below her. Careful footsteps and constantly flicking her eyes between where she was walking and her targets was the only way she could prevent herself from falling ass over tea kettle down the slick slopes.
Her breath caught in her through as the leader of the pack stopped abruptly and signaled to the rest of the coven. They must have found the area they were hoping for. The subtle hills they had been trekking through were more pronounced here while not being nearly as tall, meaning they must have wandered into one of the barrows. Fog was rolling in from the west and a shiver ran up Hermione’s spine not unsimilar to the one that crawls over her skin while she’s in the Chamber of Death.
Hermione let out a quiet and low birdcall to signal to her companions that they needed to convene and determine how they were going to proceed. Hermione moved out of view from the coven and crouched behind a thick patch of bramble before she removed her disillusionment. Siobhan and Farah quickly appeared beside her, removing their disillusionments as well.
A quick muffalito charm was cast and Hermione leaned in, “We need to wait until they actually start the ritual before we move in as we need proof that they are in fact the group we’re after and this isn’t just a wild goose chase they’ve sent us on so that we’re tied up here and not where they actually are.” The two Unspeakables nodded with her and they set about drawing their wands and waiting in the bramble to watch the coven.
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Draco Malfoy had been an auror for longer than he ever expected to last, if he was to be completely honest. However, he was damn good at his job and what he had learned while being groomed by the Death Eaters along with his genius intellect had made him indispensable… much to Potter’s chagrin. Narcissa was hosting her annual All Hallow’s Eve Gala at the freshly and heavily renovated Malfoy Manor and Draco was currently using non-existent paperwork and assignments as his escape pass. His mother was plotting for his future and casually canvassing the local bachelorettes for a potential suitor and Draco would much rather endure hours strapped to a chair where he was forced to listen to Weasley ramble about gods-know-what than have to accidentally walk into a trap conversation with his mother and her current prospect for him. Potter was aware of the situation and the two of them had decided to conquer some menial office tasks in the DMLE that had been put to the wayside while they were busy with raids this past month. Potter being Head Auror and on board with his avoidance tactics meant that no one could challenge it. Ginny was currently on tour with the Holyhead Harpies and it meant that Harry was haunting Grimmauld Place as a morose husband waiting for his wife to return from war – or quidditch – and if he could spend the time catching up on paperwork with some help from Malfoy instead of moping then he wasn’t going to say no.
Malfoy had one of the estate’s house elves bring them supper and a carafe of coffee with chai spice in it and the two of them set to tackling the office work. They were four hours deep into their work, their hands splattered faintly with ink and their sleeves rolled up to their elbows, when a bolt of faint blue light shot through the room. Hermione’s otter stood atop Potter’s desk and her voice rang out clear as day. “Harry, we need backup. Please bring all available aurors that can duel. Those damn necromancers summoned help.” The otter then rattled off coordinates that Draco quickly wrote out and deciphered to be in Northern Ireland. When it was done, he swore the damned thing turned and looked at him before dissolving.
“Potter, what the fuck did Hermione mean by necromancers and yes, I am absolutely going.” Draco placed his wand in his holster strapped underneath his cloak firmly against his ribs. Rising from his chair, he sent his patronus out to his team with the coordinates and instructions to come prepared to fight. Harry was sending his off to the other team leads with similar directions.
“I don’t know much, but I know that the Unspeakables and some Aurors got into a skirmish with a band of necromancers last summer and it was not pretty. I guess these must be the same blokes.” Harry was flicked his wand and the paperwork that they were working on went into his office and stacked into neat piles and the department started to lockdown.
Harry slid his wand into his holster. “Come here, we’ll side-along to the coordinates.”
As Draco approached, a thought came to his mind and he quickly drew his wand before nodding at Harry.
“Best to be prepared for some absolute fuckery?” Harry nodded and withdrew his wand again.
Wands drawn, Harry and Draco apparated. A swirling feeling of dread immediately made its home in the pit of Draco’s stomach when his feet touched down on the damp mossy ground.
The air was thick with smoke from hexes and curses being shot across the hillside. The acrid smell of dark magic hung around them and Draco nearly choked on it. His eyes scanned across the field until he saw her. Hermione was steadily walking across the small valley, quickly deflecting and redirecting an onslaught of curses thrown at her. The determination on her face sent chills down Draco’s spine and his mouth dried out. The wind whipped her hair around her face, her mane of curls and waves floating around her as if she was underwater. Her robes were smattered with blood and mud but she appeared to be unscathed. The brightest witch of their age was moving across the battlefield with a lethality of a Valkyrie. A howl sounded out a few meters from where he stood and it tore his attention away from the brilliant woman in front of him. Harry and Draco spun and hesitated at the sight of the emaciated corpses of barrow wights rushing towards them down the hillside.
A cold sweat broke out over Draco’s forehead as he quickly lobbed spells at the creatures. Papery swaths of what was once flesh clung to their bones and rags hung from their frames. Draco caught the glint of gold and silver in the light of the spells he was casting. He stared into the rotted pits that were once eye sockets while he worked through what spells he thought would be effective. His stomach revolted at the fetid stench wafting towards him in the wights’ wake. Frustration burnt through him as his spells seemed to pass through the wights or not be even remotely effective. Finally, a few well-placed bombardas caused a spray of bones to blast through the area but it seemed to be the best solution. The cracks of apparition sounded across the battlefield and Draco stalked through the rubble of bones and cloth towards Hermione.
Granger ignored his calls so he turned his attention to her target. A decent sized band of witches and wizards were throwing what they could at her but they clearly had never met a more stubborn witch. Their faces were gaunt and grotesque with faint scars littering their skin in the shapes of runes. His mind reeled as his memories dragged him back to the dungeons beneath Malfoy Manor during Voldemort’s occupation. The dark lord was no stranger to death magic and he was fanatical in his search for immortality. The gaunt witches and wizards in front of him looked eerily familiar and his instincts told him to turn and bolt across the hills. Hermione’s name fell from his lips in a near silent prayer as his breath left his lungs. Draco’s eyes turned and he looked over at her again; she was equal parts mesmerizing and terrifying. Spells were fired from the tip of her wand with expert speed and her status as an Unspeakable became undeniable.
Draco moved in beside her and started launching his own spells at them, trying to ensnare the demons in human flesh before them. The other two Unspeakables were taming the remainder of the barrow wights with Potter and the aurors on the other side of the small cluster of hills. The two of them quickly fell into a wordless and fluid partnership, expertly volleying hexes and spells at the necromancers while being cautious not to accidentally counteract one of the other’s spells.
Draco’s name on her tongue had him tilting his head towards her to hear her better. “Are you trying to get my attention, Granger?” He flung a body bind at one of the wizards and the spell finally landed, his mark dropping unceremoniously onto the ground.
“Malfoy, I’m going to turn the ground beneath their feet into quicksand but I need you to fully occupy them. Is that something an auror like you can manage?” The slight condescension in her tone brought a smirk to his lips as he subtly shook his head at her, tsking.
“Oh Granger, I’m fully capable of occupying whoever I need to.” He tossed her a wink and instantly shifted his stance into a mirror of Bellatrix’s before rapid fire casting hexes at the wizards. A part of him hated when he had to fight like her but knowing he was capable of doing so also sent a thrill of satisfaction through him. One of the witches stumbled into their companion, their compatibility as duelists thrown off with the onslaught of spells that Draco was hurling towards them. The smirk on his lips grew with the pleasure of knowing he was overwhelming them.
Granger quickly began working through the motions of her plan beside him but Draco was too focused on trying to occupy the seven witches and wizards currently hellbent on destroying the both of them. He barely registered that Harry and the other Unspeakables were running over to them. Hermione cast her spell to liquify the ground beneath the cultists’ feet and once they were off kilter and calf deep from struggling against it, she solidified it once more. The look on their faces became similar to the last cultist and she knew that they were on the verge of starting that damned incantation. Her voice boomed out over Draco’s casting as she shouted silencio. The air became thick with tension as the sounds around them died. The necromancers’ shock at the silencio being cast gave her and Draco the ability to sent multiple wordless body binds at them and send their wands towards the group of aurors running towards the fray.
Draco watched as Hermione walked over to the cultists and crouch down before them, completely unphased by her proximity to the absolutely vile witches and wizards. He walked over behind her, his wand at the ready but it appeared that the witches and wizards bound and partially buried in the earth were no longer an active threat with the silencing spell Hermione had cast around them.
The other two Unspeakables and the rest of the aurors swarmed in and began carting the necromancers back to the Ministry while Harry and Hermione lingered. Each cultist was individually silenced and the area was given back it’s sound. Draco sauntered over to Potter and Granger, holstering his wand on the way.
“I have to say, I did not expect that the summoned help was a gang of barrow wights. Glad to see everyone on our end made it out in one piece.” Draco’s voice was low as he turned to Hermione.
“Siobhan and Farah are heading over to St Mungo’s to get checked over. I guess they were grazed by a curse or two while trying to fight back the original onslaught of wights. They’ll be fine though, I’m sure.” Hermione turned and looked up at him. A shiver ran down Draco’s spine as he finally took the time to fully drink her in. The years had been kind to her and she aged quite beautifully. Her mane of curls was still riotous but now it looked feather soft and the urge to reach out and wrap one of the honey-brown ringlets around his finger was damn near undeniable. Her eyes though… she stared daggers at him and it only caused that familiar thrill to sound off in his mind.
“Well, I’m assuming there’s going to be a fuck load of paperwork for this. Care to join us? I’ll have Midge bring us another carafe of that spiced coffee. Potter damn near drank the whole thing last time.” He cocked an eyebrow at her and Hermione seemed shocked at the invite. Their paths had barely crossed in the last couple years and while civility was always his route, he couldn’t deny that he had taken a few low blows at her in jest. Potter and him were amicable now so why not extend that olive branch to the Golden Girl too?
Maybe he could drop a few subtle hints and redirect his mother’s interference in his love life. It was high time he used it for his own advantage.