Chapter 4
“What is called a reason for living is also an excellent reason for dying.”
Albert Camus, The Myth of Sisyphus and Other Essays
After giving her findings to Kingsley and helping with the research that they could do with that, what little they could with the books they had at their disposal, she had taken to trying to see what all they needed. It was Neville who pointed out they were running low on healing supplies.
Ever since Luna had gone missing, they had put on hold going for supplies. She had been doing that when she and a few others in the insurgency had gone missing. No one had told Harry yet. They knew his penchant for running off to save his friends would get them all in trouble.
For once, Hermione agreed with them rather than Harry and didn't mention a thing about Luna or Ginny, even in her missives to him.
They had a chance to hit a supply chain going to the newly established wizarding hospital that replaced St Mungo's. It had an asinine name that she couldn't be bothered to remember. But it would also have all of the supplies they could need.
There would be potions, stitching supplies, potion ingredients, and wolfsbane potion that they needed for a few more people who had been attacked by Greyback before they had put him down like the rabid animal he was. Harry had gotten that one. Seemed only fair since Greyback had tried to go after Teddy.
Now, she was leaning into the shadows of a building, her hair braided back from her face as others were spread out. A jinx was placed across the perimeter, which would make the carriage carrying the shipment crash. She felt a little bad for the flying horses, but it couldn't be helped.
Maybe something was wrong with her now that she seemed to have more sympathy for animals getting hurt than people, or maybe she had simply turned off her emotions far too many times. Either way, the scream as the first part of the shipment got upended had her notice the symbol to move, and she darted ahead. They'd have minutes.
Each of the seven that were dispatched for this particular snatch and grab had a bag she had enchanted as she had back when she was traveling with Harry and Ron. With some luck, they'd get enough of what they needed.
Before she could make it far, he brought her back against his chest, wand at her throat.
“We really do have to stop meeting like this.” Though she couldn’t see his face, the smallest smirk could be heard.
He hadn’t expected to see her, not for something so trivial. Letting her go would only disappoint his master and himself. He had new recruits that needed to spread their wings. How many would return? He didn’t quite care. Expendable losses, yet they remained unworthy of slashing her down. That was his job.
As she was pulled back against him she tensed, her eyes narrowing as her heart jumped up into her throat. She wanted to kill this man. And if she didn't get to do it, it would be just as infuriating and tragic as her not being the one to end Bellatrix.
"You really need to stop touching me," her voice dropped into a growl.
“Look down to the tree line,” he breathed in her ear—a moving ripple of shadow closing in. “And then the alley,” he guided her to the other flank. Every one of her seven would deal with two to three Death Eaters each.
Before she could move, she glanced at the tree line and the alley. Ambush. Shit. Taking in a deep breath, she relaxed before she slammed her foot down on his toes and brought her elbow back into his solar plexus to get out of his grip. Ducking out of his arms and letting out a whistle that was amplified with magic. It put all of them on alert as she spun around to throw a barrage of offensive spells at Draco with a sneer.
Despite the assault, he had added a dampening charm to his clothes. A precaution that came with months of uncouth assault by the brunette. He still felt the hits, just lessened.
Again, he found himself in a defensive position. It didn’t matter. The damage was done. Below, a fight began, and shortly after, it would end.
The whistle. It wasn’t the first time he’d heard it. Another small piece of information to file away. Perhaps his outing wouldn’t be a complete loss.
“Have your failures made you expendable then?” He jeered, throwing a curse her way.
Deflecting the curse, she glared at him as she threw another curse of her own at him with narrowed eyes. "Now, why would I be considered expendable, Malfoy? I'm surprised you don't have a new mark from your master for your failure," she jeered.
"Perhaps being marked by a Mudblood was considered enough," she prodded, throwing another curse as she moved around. Behind them, where fighting unfolded, a cloud of Peruvian Darkness Powder spread.
At least she knew they were using some of the defensive maneuvers they still had from the Weasleys. After what happened to Ron, she hadn't been convinced the Weasleys would still help. Ginny had been pivotal.
Malfoy wanted to laugh. Oh, he had certainly paid. Even with good news, the Dark Lord was hardly forgiving for lack of his desired ends. It hadn’t stopped him from setting his own plans in motion.
“Why? I have you researching for me. Gives me time to get things like hands of glory…”
Was he bluffing? He wasn’t about to tell her.
“I’ve seen enough,” he shrugged, settling a hand in his pocket as the other deflected her latest curse, riposting just as quickly.
As he evaded one of her latest, he reached the hand out as if for balance. A small item befell his pocket as he was forced to apparate and disapparate under her assault.
Reapparating silently from a distance, he looked at her. A green skull rose in the sky. It was over just as quickly as it had begun. How unfortunate.
“Next time, Granger. I’ll be sure to have time for you.” In a flurry of cloaks and smoke, he shot off the building and back to his plans.
Trying not to focus on the panic that one thought caused, she simply glared at him. Would the Darkness Powder lose its effectiveness soon? She wasn't sure, and she was afraid to look. Afraid that more of her friends and allies were falling in all of that shadow.
Seeing that he dropped something, she summoned it to her hand, tucking the item into her pocket before she shot a few other curses at him as he left in a flurry of cloaks. It made her stomach turn.
"Damn him," she cursed and looked down towards the destruction. She saw three of her allies on the ground, but they didn't move a muscle.
The witch quickly checked to make sure they were actually dead. She heard a whistle from the wood line, seeing Neville there with three bags that looked like they were about to overflow. At least their mission had been successful.
Checking what she had picked up, she almost laughed. A mirror. Perhaps they'd overhear something useful...She'd keep it. For now. Until she had to turn it in.
Returning to Neville, they apparated out of the area, jumping between three safe houses before getting to where the medical supplies were actually needed.