Chapter 1
Severus Snape looked down at the textbooks, brows furrowed. He pushed back a lock of his long black hair behind his ear. Sighing he set down Book of Potions written by the new up and coming potioneer Zygmunt Budge and picked up Advanced Potion Making by Libatius Borage. He had owled Professor Slughorn over the summer urging him to swap the outdated Advanced Potion Making for Book of Potions on the syllabus. He received no reply. He doubted Slughorn could be bothered to respond to anyone who wasn’t a member of his pretentious Slug Club. It was a waste of his too few galleons to buy “Advanced Potion Making” published in 1946. It was thirty years behind in potion-making advancement. With one last longing look at the potions section of Flourish and Blotts, he turned and went to pay for the textbook.
He needed to hurry if he was going to meet up with Lily at Fortescue’s. He knew he needed to apologize to her again. He felt as though he was always apologizing to Lily. If she just wouldn’t hang around those twats, that ran about calling themselves the marauders, a ridiculous name he thought. Very childish to name a group of friends. He had a few knuts left over, he would treat her to a double scoop of ice cream. With a bit of apologizing all would be forgiven.
Stepping out onto the cobblestone streets of Diagon Alley, head down, he ran right into an old hag of a woman. He knew her not to be an actual hag, but still, the similarities were strong. She in her bright pink, blue, and purple bedazzled robes, was in stark contrast to his black ones. He bent to pick up his potions textbook, upset that the corner was now wet and muddy. When he stood, he noticed the woman was frozen in place, eyes wide and distant. She said in a croaky whisper “When lion turns from lion…and heart twines with a birdwatching snake…The one with the power to vanquish…” lungs rattling she frantically grasped at the arm of his robes. “light prevails over dark…If the snake, last of his bloodline fails in his pursuit….lion tenderly devoted to another…the dark lord will rise again in continuum.” Head snapping to attention, she looked over at him. Untangling her fingers from his robe he said “Excuse me. I must go. I am late.” He hurried down the street, wondering what in the world that old bat was on about.
When lion turns from lion
and heart twines with a birdwatching snake
The one with the power to vanquish
light prevails over dark
If the snake, last of his bloodline
fails in his pursuit
lion tenderly devoted to another
the dark lord will rise again in continuum
-Cassandra Trelawney 1975
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Shell Cottage
Hermione sat staring at the wand across the room. It looked innocent enough on the desk. Except it wasn’t, was it? Olivander had described it last night as unyielding, when he had declared Hermione to have won the walnut wand’s allegiance from its previous owner. If that is what you would call it. Hermione wouldn’t describe laying on the floor screaming as Bellatrix carved the slur, mudblood, into her arm as winning. No, she wouldn’t say that all. She did not wish to have the allegiance of a wand that tortured Neville’s parents, killed Sirius, and crucio’d her repeatedly. But her friends needed her help and to do so, she needed a wand.
“Bugger all” she said as she stood and strode across the room snatching the wand up. She felt the magic strum through her. It felt dark and wrong. She hated the thing.
A knock at the door.
“Come in”
Ron shuffled through the door with his hand over his eyes. “Are you decent”
“Of course, Ronald” Hermione snapped. “Why else would I tell you to come in?”
Ron dropped his hand from his eyes, cheeks flushing slightly. He glanced down at the wand clutched in her hand.
“I’m sorry Ron. I just miss my wand. I wish Mr. Olivander had been able to make me a new wand before he left.”
“Yeah but once the war is over, you can have a new one made. A better one, even.”
“I don’t think there will ever be a better one than my first.”
“Maybe not 'Mione. But maybe so. I really liked the new one better after the whomping willow broke my original second year. Yours may even be recovered when this is all over. Your wand is probably still at Malfoy Manor.”
“Maybe” Hermione shrugged, tears beginning to well up “But it seems like nothing after the war will feel right again.”
Ron stepped forward, pulling Hermione into his arms. “Hermione, I’ve been wanting to say this forever. Or at least a long time. Not forever” He really blushed now. “But for some time. After the war, when this is all over, I want to give it a go. You and me. Give us a chance”
Hermione stared up at him. She wondered when he got so tall. When did the boy she had known for almost seven years, turn into the man before her now? When did friendship start to turn into something more? Something more than just teenage jealousy of him snogging Lavender? She felt her heart begin to clench up with all the things she had to say. Everything she needed Ron to know.
“Ron…” she began
“Not right now” he said pressing his forehead to hers. “Not today. After all of this. After the cup there’s only two left. When it’s all over. I just wanted you to know now. That maybe after, there can be more.”
He kissed her then. One small gentle kiss, then pulled away. “After the war. I just wanted you to know that after this, I want to try this with you.” He leaned back down and kissed her harder. His lips were chapped and rought against her own, but she didn’t care because it felt right. Kissing Ron was right. So she kissed him back because the promise of a better tomorrow was what she needed.
She heard the clatter as she dropped the horrid wand to the floor and pulled her hands up to his chest. He had grown up in their past year on a run. No longer the boy she met on the Hogwarts express, but a man. He ran his hand up her back, tangling his fingers into her curls, angling her head back. She gave in to the moment. Kissing him deeper. Gave into the now with Ron. The war melted away as he parted her lips, slipping his tongue into her mouth and over her teeth.
And then he was pulling away. His chest heaving against hers. “After all of this is over, I want to do all of that and more with you.”
She was left standing there alone. Her arm started to throb in pain. She looked down at the slur carved into her arm. She could be unyielding she thought as she bent over to pick up the wand that was not her own and whispered to an empty room “If there is an after.”
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It was the first warm sunny day of Spring. She could smell the sea and hear the gentle crash of the waves. She was laying on her back with Harry and Ron on either side of her. She had her arm thrown up to shield her eyes from the sun. This was the first truly happy moment Hermione had known in a year. Her stomach was full from the picnic Fleur had packed them. The past year on the run, pilfering and stealing their meals, made her appreciate Fleur’s full pantry and cooking. She hated to spoil it, but she opened her mouth to anyways. “Harry-”.
She was cut off by Ron’s whine, “Not now Hermione. You’ll spoil it.”
“You don’t even know what I was going to say, Ron.”
“I didn’t need to know. I could tell by the look on your face.”
Clenching her hand, she opened her mouth to say something and then closed it again. “What an infuriating arse you can be.” Turned on her heel and stomped off. She didn’t want to ruin the moment, she thought. But she needed to. They needed to talk about what Horcruxes were left. If they were right in their guess that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named created seven, then they had three left. The diary, ring, and locket were destroyed. That left the cup, something of Rowena Ravenclaw’s, and two they didn’t know. She transfigured her paper napkin into a little boat, kneeling on the rocks, she released it into the ocean. She was surprised that such a dark wand could perform such sweet magic. The boat was immediately swept up and crushed under a wave. Standing, she took a deep calming breath, turned, straightened her back and walked back determined to make a plan.
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Hermione gagged on the polyjuice potion. “She tasted disgusting. Worse than Milicent’s”.
Ron grinned “I personally prefer this tail”
Hermione gasped reaching behind her. “Ronald, how can you joke at a time like this. You know, turing into a cat second year was really rather traumatic for me!”
Harry grinned “Awe come off it, Hermione! He’s just trying to lighten the mood. Besides, you looked marvelous as cat.” Then he frowned “I would prefer a cat to this. I know it’s you, but just seeing you as Bellatrix gives me the chills.”
“Yeah” Ron agreed “Super creepy”
“It’s even worse having to be her. Let’s hurry, we don’t have enough potion to last us.” Hermione set to work transfiguring Ron with Bellatrix’s, now her, wand. “I can’t do much for the hair, but I don’t think anyone will recognize you from last years wanted photo.”
She pulled the invisibility cloak out of her beaded bag, knocking over a stack of books she had just restacked last night. “Bugger” she thought, “I will have to fix those again when we get back.”
Harry pulled the invisibility cloak over himself, disappearing from view.
“Still amazing. You really can’t see a thing,” said Ron
“If it all goes according to plan,” said Hermione striding out beyond the Shell Cottage’s Fidelius charm boundary, “We will be home in time for lunch on the beach.”
Hermione grasped their hands, turned on the spot, and with a crack, apparated away.
The Heist
Shit. Shit. Shit. How had things gone so wrong so quickly? There was so much she hadn’t accounted for, Hermione thought as she reached into her beaded bag for a hair tie. The goblins knew Bellatrix’s wand was stolen. The Gemino and Flagrante curses cause everything in the vault to burn and multiply at the slightest touch. Harry had nearly been buried alive under the multiplying treasure, trying to reach the cup. The extra wards alerting the death eaters. And how were they able to apparate in? No one should be able to apparate into Gringotts. Maybe a portkey she thought. Her mind started to wander and this was not a good time for a wandering mind seeing as she was supposed to be the brains of the golden trio.
Then she remembered she had magic and pointed her wand at the bag “Accio hair tie.” She never thought someone’s hair would be more unruly and so uneasily tamed then her own. But the long black hair of Bellatrix was making it hard to think right now. She pulled the long black hair out of her face and up into a messy bun. And the heels! Why did Bellatrix wear heeled black boots everywhere? They were not Hermione’s ideal shoe for bank heists and dueling for her life.
And the dragon. Her heart panged thinking of the chained, blind dragon outside the vault. She never even thought to consider a dragon during planning.
She heard Ron stifle a groan to her left. Turning she saw he had bumped into a jeweled goblet, which burnt him and burst into a shower of goblets. Ron’s arm was red and starting to blister. To Ron’s left Harry stood, pale white, eyes darting around, gripping the cup in one hand and his wand in another. “Don’t move. We don’t want to be crushed to death. I just need time to think.”
She was burnt. They were all badly burnt, maybe Harry worst of all. His fingers were so red and swollen from digging through coins to get to the cup, that she was sure he would have lasting nerve damage. Part of her brain was already processing how to treat him since St. Mungo’s was not an option.
There were maybe six masked death eaters and a furious Bellatrix on the other side of the vault. Hermione could hear her on the other side screaming “Thief! Thief! Come out and give me my wand!”
“She said thief as in one. She only thinks there is one of us. She won’t be ready if we all go out at once.” whispered Ron.
“There’s at least half a dozen death eaters out there. Even if we do get surprise them, we can’t stun three death eaters at once. That will leave at least three, plus Bellatrix, who could land their own spells as we stun.” Harry whispered back
Hermione had an idea. She hadn’t accounted for the dragon before, but she wouldn’t make this mistake again. She pulled the invisibility cloak from the bag, “Harry, Ron, get under the cloak quickly.”
Ron grinned “I knew you would come up with something. You always do.”
“Get under the cloak quickly. When the gates open I will pretend to surrender, while you two get to the dragon, free him, and climb on. When they are distracted by the dragon's new freedom, I will get to you and we will escape through the ceiling.”
“But…” Harry started to say
“No time. Under the cloak quickly.” She shoved her beaded bag at Ron. “Hermio-” Harry started again.
She tossed the cloak over their heads and Harry’s wary eyes disappeared just as the vault door flew open. “Go” she whispered.
She gripped Bellatrix’s wand, raising it, and yelling “Stupefy!”. A masked death eater hit the floor. One down, six to go. She could be unyielding like the wand. She could be unyielding until Harry and Ron escaped. She could be unyielding until her last breath because her friends needed her to.
Bellatrix screeched in recognition, “IMPOSTER!! Filthy Mudblood! How dare you pretend to be me? How dare you attempt to steal from me? Crucio!” Red light shot out, ricocheting off the wall.
Hermione ducked behind the wall to this side of the door. She shot off a “Stupefy” as she went. She saw two more death eaters go down and thought that either Harry or Ron was shooting off stunners as they went. She needed to buy them time. She couldn't think over the sound of her heart pounding in her ears. She ducked out quickly to shoot off another “Stupefy” and the green light of the killing curse shot past her ear, nearly hitting her.
“Do NOT kill the filth, Nott” Bellatrix angrily yelled turning to a sinister cackle. “She is mine.”
Cold panic took hold and Hermione began to feel her throat start to close. Each breath a little harder to take. She could feel her arm begin to throb. She imagined she could feel each letter of the word mudblood being carved into her again. But Ron and Harry needed her to be strong.
She began a grounding exercise her mother had taught her in grade school, when she first started having anxiety attacks. Five things you can see. Coins, a sword, stones, a chest, a bookshelf. Breathe in. Breathe out. Four things you can touch. Her wand, well Bellatrix’s wand, her jeans, the wall behind her, the beaded bag. Breathe in. Breathe out. Three things you can hear. Her heart beat, that’s not helping, foot steps. Wait, footsteps?
Before Hermione could think any further, a masked figure stepped through the blown-open vault door. Just as the death eater spun towards her with the hint green light beginning on the tip of their wand. She cast automatically, feeling her fear fueling the dark magic humming in the wand. “Sectumsempra”. They staggered, blood beginning to quickly pool at their feet. She had never seen it before, only heard a disjointed retelling from a guilty Harry. His knees buckled hitting the floor. It was brutal and it was quick. Looking down at the man, whose mask had slipped from his face, she realized it was Nott Sr. Her heart momentarily panged, not for the death eater before her, but for his son. Her classmate, Theodore Nott, now fatherless, at her hand. Her first kill.
Hermione heard the roar of the dragon and then shrieks. She peeked around to see that two other death eaters were on fire. And the dragon was free. Now she thought, jumping out, pointing her wand at the ceiling “Bombarda Maxima”. Stone started to rain down on the dragon as she shot out a shield charm to cover what she hoped was Harry and Ron’s invisible forms. Raging the dragon let out another gush of fire, charring and stilling the already flaming, flailing, death eathers.
She shot a stinging jinx at the dragon’s foot and watched as it unfurled it’s wings and shot for the sky. Realizing too late, she felt a wand jab at her side, as she heard Bellatrix huff “You stupid, stupid girl. Stupefy.” and everything went black.