Azkaban Revisited

Chapter 9

"Do you think that it will actually work?" Harry asked Snape as they stood in the courtyard watching the prisoners. It felt vaguely reminiscent of watching free-range chickens roaming a yard, although Harry had no clue where that image came from.

"Which part?" Snape asked dryly. "The part where Hermione pretends to be raped by my old friend? Or perhaps you mean the part where Narcissa actually believes her. Or maybe what she's trying to do now which is suicidal, even by my standards."

Harry stared at the ground. "If you put it that way, it makes me wonder why we're even trying. Maybe this entire thing is a collective hallucination or something."

Snape's lips twisted into a parody of a smile. "I've been wondering the same thing," he admitted. "If we just lay down and accepted the fate of the wizarding world, it's likely nothing will happen to us."

"Now," Harry said with heavy emphasis on that word. "Who knows what might happen next? Has it ever occurred to you that we're fighting only for our own survival?"

"What else is there to fight for?" Snape said with a shrug. "Any fighting for higher ideals is garbage. Have you ever wondered why people joined Voldemort in the first place? It wasn't because they truly believed that purebloods were superior to Muggle-borns, not entirely anyway. Muggle-borns and half-bloods were bringing their Muggle culture into our world, diluting our customs, sometimes even laughing at them." His lips twisted. "I remember being enraged the first time I heard a Muggle-born criticise pumpkin juice as archaic and ask for orange juice instead."

"I've never thought about it that way," Harry said quietly. "But the thing is, some Muggle implements are better than wizarding ones. Pens, for example, are far better than quills. Change isn't always a bad thing."

"Very philosophical, Harry," Snape said dryly. "However, when has anybody ever been amiable to change? It took us fifty years to adapt to the Muggle car."

"Does that mean in two hundred years time we'll be using biros as opposed to quills?" Harry asked, only half sarcastically.

Snape frowned. "What is so good about the biro anyway?" he asked. "It doesn't have the same smooth consistency as the quill and often blotches."

"You don't have to dip it in ink?" Harry suggested. "Plus, it dries quickly."

"And it doesn't look as nice," Snape pointed out.

"Why are we having this discussion?" Harry asked, after a short pause.

"What do you mean by that?" Snape said, idly with a shrug. "I can have random conversations as well as the next person."

"Are you positive that Lucius Malfoy is on our side?" Harry asked suddenly. This question had been bothering him for quite some time now, while he watched Hermione get closer and closer to the man.

"Are you positive that I'm on your side?" Snape said quietly. "One can never be positive about these things."

"Malfoy never turned to our side during the Voldemort Wars," Harry pointed out. "You did, and at great personal risk to yourself. I trust you."

Snape's dark eyes gleamed. "And what makes you think that it was a great risk?" he said. "Perhaps I was simply playing both sides? Being a traitor to both sides and just waiting, biding my time, until I knew who would win?"

"You might have," Harry said, hoping that it wasn't true. "Did you?" he asked, after Snape didn't respond after a short pause.

"I would have thought that you of all people would know me better than that," Snape snapped. "For your information, no. I didn't. Betraying Albus would have been an immensely stupid thing to do, especially since I was under a blood oath."

Harry shuddered. Blood oaths were powerful things, unbreakable and classified as borderline Dark Arts. They were used very rarely. "Was that the only reason why you didn't betray him?" he couldn't help asking.

"No," Snape bit out. "Albus was like a father to me." There was something strange in his eyes, something that looked almost like hurt.

The rest of the time passed in silence.

-

It had been over three hours since Hermione had left the holding cell and Lucius supposed that she was back at Azkaban. During that period, the spell had intensified and Lucius now felt a constant tingling feeling. It would have been pleasant if he was able to actually do something about it and if he wasn't constantly remembering what the consequences of the spell were.

He had been left in the holding cell, so Lucius assumed that his cell was being evacuated of his belongings and made ready for a new occupant. He then wondered how many other people had died in the exact same position he was in now, with their hands in the same shackles. He glanced upwards, saw the remnants of dried blood on the shackles and suppressed a shudder.

Nobody had come in for the last three hours, but Lucius held no false beliefs in that regard. Narcissa enjoyed seeing the results of her handiwork and would definitely be here in the last few hours.

Blood loss, he remembered, was the key cause of death in these cases. It wasn't a clean, cauterised cut. His penis would fall off, engorged and swollen, and blood would begin spraying everywhere.

Darkly, Lucius hoped that Narcissa would end up covered in his blood. Dripping, more like it, he thought and winced. He just remembered a picture in a Dark Arts book he saw on this curse when he was younger. He'd never thought that it would be used on him. Unsurprisingly, the caster of the spell had to be a woman and most men didn't like the idea of even watching the spell take effect.

His breath caught in his throat as his cock gave another surge in his tattered robes. Lucius licked his dry lips and wished that he wasn't chained up against the wall.

He wasn't entirely sure why he had refused Hermione's offer of help. It had taken him completely by surprise. He had contemplated it while she was standing there, but he never thought that she would offer. It wasn't as though he found her unattractive. Although she wasn't beautiful by anybody's standards, there was vitality, stubbornness in the hazel eyes that intrigued him. And her body, in the brief moment she had kissed him in the street, felt warm and sweet. It had been so long.

Lucius groaned as the spell spiralled and intensified in his veins. Apparently thinking about it only made it worse.

And it wasn't because she was a Mud...Muggle-born either, he thought, but wasn't sure whether this was entirely true. In his fifty-one years of life, he had never, ever, touched a Muggle-born in that way and he wasn't sure he wanted to. Besides, he thought, it's a ridiculous idea anyway. Narcissa will surely find out that the spell isn't working and suspect Hermione.

He smiled wryly to himself when he realised that the last thought was rather protective. The thing is, he told himself adamantly, anything would be better than our world being run by Narcissa. She hadn't seemed entirely sane this afternoon and Lucius had already had one stint under an insane overlord. Even magical Britain run by Muggle-borns and halfbloods would be better than magical Britain under Narcissa, he thought. At least Muggle-borns - if Hermione was any indication - had morals.

He was jerked out of his thoughts by a key turning in the lock and the door to the holding room opened.

Narcissa walked in, bringing with her a whiff of her perfume. It was a distinctive floral scent, almost cloyingly sweet. He could feel her eyes looking at his bulging robes and saw the smirk on her face.

"I take it Hermione's spell is working," she said casually. "So the little Mudblood is actually able to cast spells."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "I thought you weren't going to be prejudiced."

"When have I ever told the truth, Lucius?" she said, with a small smirk. She waved her hand and the door behind her opened again.

Lucius paled as a Dementor's hand curled around the door, all rotting and green. Half a second later, the Dementor glided into the room. It stood - hovered - there and simply looked around the room. Or whatever it did under the hooded cloak. Lucius couldn't help but shudder. Dementors were the stuff of children's nightmares in the wizarding world. Nobody but the doomed saw a Dementor's face, but there were stories about what they looked like. Some said that it looked like a skeleton, green, and slimy with flesh hanging off. Others said that there was no face at all, only oblivion.

"I'm a nice person," Narcissa said with another terrifying smile. "Therefore, I am going to give you a choice. You can either hang there until the spell goes into full effect and believe me, it does get worse. Or you can get acquainted with my good friend here." She waved her hand and the Dementor glided forward.

Lucius decidedly did not like the choices she gave him. It was rumoured in wizarding Britain, at least, that souls given to Dementors were gone for eternity. Despite what the Chinese said, Lucius did not feel like giving his soul to a Dementor to keep and suck upon. Yet, he pondered as he suppressed a gasp upon feeling the spell surge once more through his veins, the alternative wasn't appealing either. "That's no choice," he said with a strained voice.

She tilted her head. "It is a choice, Lucius. You just don't like the choices."

He ignored her. "What are you planning to do to our world, anyway?" he demanded, not liking the weak, rasp of his voice.

"Lucius, Lucius, Lucius," she said with a shake of her head. "You must be leaking by now. And I believe that it has only been six or so hours. Can you last another eighteen hours? Doubtless it's pleasurable now, but believe me," she smiled, "I've seen men go through this. By the end they beg me to cut it off." Her eyes gleam. "I just laugh."

"What are you going to do to our world?" he repeated, through gritted teeth.

"Solve our mistakes, of course," she said, sounding surprised. "We've been too kind to those sub-human Muggles. We've been too tolerant of Mudbloods and those abominations of halfbloods. It's disgusting how much we have diluted our blood to satisfy the weak in our population. I'm going to fix it."

"And how," Lucius forced out, "how are you going to fix it?" He kept the horror out of his eyes. Even the Dark Lord hadn't gone this far, he thought.

"A choice," she said simply. "All purebloods have a choice to be either with me or against me. We are going to war with the Muggles and we will win. Mudbloods and halfbloods will be killed."

It took all of Lucius's self control to stop him gaping at her. Was she insane? Halfbloods? They made up nearly fifty percent of the wizarding population. And going to war with the Muggles? Pure insanity. "I did hear that the Muggles have a weapon that can destroy the earth many times over," he said casually.

She smirked. "Pure Muggle propaganda," she said. "How can a single weapon destroy the world over? Impossible."

"But you have to agree that they do have other weapons that can kill a lot of us. We have few curses that can kill many people," he pointed out.

She waved a hand in dismissal. "That's your problem, Lucius," she said. "You think too small. We will create cloaking spells, of course, that are effective against their guns. We have already started upon it. They are effective against knives now."

"But your plan to kill halfbloods and Mudbloods," Lucius said, with a frown. "You will decimate our population!"

She raised an eyebrow. "Laws will be passed to counter that," she told him. A smile played about her lips. "Your pet Mudblood Granger will be first. Potter second. They have too much popularity."

"And who are you planning to blame their deaths on?" Lucius said wearily.

She gave a delighted laugh. "The Muggles, of course! Who else would kill some of our greatest heroes with guns? We will go to war against them in retaliation. And once we've won the war, we will cleanse our population."

Lucius had to admit that her plan was intelligent. Terrifying, but intelligent. He inclined his head towards the Dementor, who was standing there silently. "What about the rest of the Dementors?"

"They're part of our Army," Narcissa told him, obviously glad to discuss her plans with somebody. "Nothing can stop them since they've become immune to Expecto Patronum. I've negotiated the souls of the Mudbloods and halfbloods in return for their help."

How wonderful for the Dementors, Lucius thought. He thought she shouldn't be so cocky about the idea of her infallible Dementors but then again, she had never been to China and heard the rumours. He doubted many people on the planet now knew about the possible method of controlling them. "How did you stop this being reported in the media?" he asked. That question had been bugging him for quite a while now.

She smiled. "That was one of my more ingenious plans," she told him. "Mind suggestion. Not quite mind control, but very similar. Suggestions were planted in the minds of key media personnel. They really did think everything was fine in the wizarding world. I found it far more effective than blackmail but rather difficult to perform and needs to be renewed quite often."

Lucius had to admit he admired her genius for thinking up plans. They were twisted enough to be interesting but still seemed to work with surprising ease.

"Now, your choice?" she said, with an impatient tap of her foot.

Lucius had no idea what to say. He supposed silence wouldn't be interpreted as him wanting more time. It would be more like silence would be interpreted as both, he thought wryly.

The conversation he had almost two decades ago kept on repeating in his head. Simple, Lucius thought. Every Chinese person could control the Dementors. He didn't agree with Hermione's idea of it having something to do with Chinese history. Somehow, assuming China was like England, not everybody would know about history.

He frowned.

"I'm waiting," Narcissa told him. "Since I'm kind, you have five minutes to decide."

Every Chinese person.

Every Chinese person.

Simple.

Lucius gave a start. Could it be? Could it be that simple and obvious? It fit. He frowned and tried to recall the correct words.

If this works, he thought. Then we've all been idiots.

-

Hermione was very surprised when she went outside to investigate a shift in the wards to see Lucius disembarking from a small leaky rowboat and stumbling onto the shores of Azkaban. There was somebody - or something - else on the boat. She squinted. It looked like... no, it couldn't be.... It looked like a Dementor. Her wand was out before he could say a word. "Who are you?" she demanded.

"Lucius Malfoy," he said, looking surprised and holding up his hand. She could see that one of his hands held a wand.

"Put that wand down, slowly," she ordered, staring at the Dementor out of the corner of her eyes. It didn't seem to be moving or being threatening. He complied. "Prove that you're Lucius."

He hesitated. "You kissed me while I was Polyjuiced as Potter to stop one of his ex-girlfriends. I tried to corner you in your room that night."

She slowly lowered her wand. It sounded like Lucius. It looked like Lucius. That would have been enough in the Muggle world, she knew, but this wasn't the Muggle world. It was the wizarding world and in this world, the person in front of her could be anybody. But the person also knew things that only Lucius would know. She put her wand back in her robe pocket hoping that she wasn't making an incredibly stupid decision "Why do you have a Dementor with you?"

"Long story," he said.

She stared at him when it became obvious he wasn't going to say anything else. "How did you escape?" she asked.

He gave her a rather satisfied smile - rather like a content cat, she thought. "I managed to think of the spell in time."

Hermione blinked. Her first reaction was, what spell? Then it dawned upon her that he was talking about the Dementor controlling spell. "How?"

"I just remembered it in time," he admitted. "It really is very simple."

"And..." she prompted.

"I just ordered it to not Kiss me," Lucius said.

She stared at him. "But that doesn't work!" she protested.

"It does when you give it as a command in Chinese," he told her. A wry smile twisted his lips. "It did end up being very simple. I just told it to either make sure that Narcissa unlocked my shackles or that she ended up without a soul. She made the right choice, obviously."

"How is she now?" Hermione asked, out of morbid curiosity.

"Still alive," Lucius said. "I Obliviated her and left her in the same shackles that held me. And I took the Dementor with me."

"Why didn't you kill her?" Hermione asked, rather ashamed at herself for asking.

Lucius let out a long breath. "I'm not sure," he admitted. "I don't think I was strong enough for Avada Kedavra."

She blinked, when another thought occurred to her. "The spell?" Hermione asked, glancing downwards.

"Still, obviously, in operation," Lucius said. "It's been better since I was out of the cell but I doubt that will last."

By now, they had walked into the living quarters of the cottage. The Dementor had stopped at the door and was standing in what looked like a guard position. Hermione hoped that nobody would go outside, otherwise they would be in for a massive fright. Everybody else was in the kitchen talking. Lucius shook his head when he saw her head in that direction, so she led him to her room. "I wonder," Hermione mused when Lucius suddenly stumbled. "Are you okay?" she asked.

"The spell," he managed to say through gritted teeth.

She let out a deep breath and pushed Lucius into her room. Taking out her wand, Hermione muttered, "Silenco!"

Lucius stared at her. "What..." he began when she held up a finger.

"You have two choices," she said very quietly. "I researched the spell. You either die a very painful death or I help you now. I would get Jean to help you but you didn't seem eager to share your condition with anybody else. I know you think I'm only a Mudblood, but would you rather die?"

His eyes were focused on something behind her.

"Your choice?" Hermione asked, holding her breath. She wondered whether she was offering out of a sense of guilt. After all, it was her spell that was causing him this agony, and it would be agony he would be feeling now, she realised from the books. She definitely couldn't be attracted to him. It was ridiculous.

"I doubt I'd make a good martyr," he said dryly.

"I'll take that as a yes," she said and then hesitated. "How..." she waved her hand. "Should I..." To her embarrassment, she felt her cheeks flush.

"You can't even say it, can you?" he said. "A handjob should suffice."

Hermione stared at him, knowing that she volunteered for this but she still felt awkward. Hesitantly, she took a step forward. Then two. Then three, until she was standing in front of him. Not knowing why, she took one of his hands and squeezed it. To her surprise, he squeezed back.

"I'm sorry for putting you in this situation," he said, his voice rather rough.

She only nodded briefly. "I suppose," she said, rather embarrassed, "that I should... start." It hadn't ever been this awkward for her before. But then again, she thought with a wry inner smile, before, she had at least known that there was mutual attraction. Then again, it had never been as essential as it was now.

She reached out and began to unbutton Lucius's robes. "Where'd you get these?" she asked as she fumbled with the tiny buttons.

"I took them off the guard outside," he admitted. "The Muggles," his breath hitched as her hand brushed over his erection, "they looked at me rather strangely."

"I'm not surprised," she said softly as she finished unbuttoning the robes. A faint blush came over her cheeks as she realised that he was wearing no underwear underneath. What am I thinking, she wondered.

"Are you sure you're not a virgin, Hermione?" Lucius asked. To her surprise, his hand came up and cupped the side of her face.

"Positive," she said, her voice slightly breathless.

He took her hand in his own larger one and guided it. His breath came in short gasps and she felt a strange stirring inside her.

These will need to be washed, she thought with a mental nose-wrinkle as she looked down at her robes. Somehow cleansing charms didn't feel the same.

That thought was lost as he pulled her down in a bruising kiss.

When she finally pulled away, she noticed that he was still breathing irregularly. And so am I, she thought. Her hand came up to touch her lips and she found that they were rather sore.

"That was... interesting," she finally managed to say.

He nodded. "The spell seems to be gone."

"That's good," she replied and then cast a cleaning spell. It should do temporarily anyway. "Maybe," she said hesitantly, "we should go tell the others that you're back."

He nodded quickly. "That seems like a good idea." He paled suddenly.

"What's the matter?" she asked.

"I should have said this earlier," Lucius said. "Narcissa said that she planned to kill you and Potter and then use your deaths as a reason to take over the Muggle world."

She stared at him. "And that somehow left your mind, how?"

"I had other matters on my mind," he said stiffly.

She had to admit that it was understandable. Anybody in his position would have had other things on his mind. "Well, we'd better go tell the others about this. Doubtless Narcissa will be here soon. The Dementor is unlikely to keep her busy for long. Somebody will find her." Hermione licked her lips.

He stared at her mouth. "I should help you with that," he said, as he buttoned up his robes. Lifting up his hand, he touched the side of her mouth and the soreness disappeared.

"You can do wandless magic?" she asked, surprised.

"That wasn't really a spell," he admitted. "It just used the body's natural abilities to heal itself."

"Well, thank you," she said, feeling the uncomfortableness of the situation again. She opened the door and walked out, feeling the air move behind her as Lucius followed.

-

There was absolutely no warning.

Then again, Hermione realised, that was exactly how Narcissa wanted it.

One minute, it was a quiet peaceful morning, the sun was just rising over Azkaban and Hermione was sleeping fitfully. The next minute this was all the same, except Hermione had sat bolt upright in bed. She had just felt a massive disturbance in the wards. Swinging her legs off the side of the bed, Hermione grabbed her wand on her bedside table. Apparently Narcissa's here, she thought grimly.

Rapidly, she knocked on everybody else's doors. She had explained the situation to everybody including Will and Jean last night. Hermione frowned. Jean had a strange expression in her eyes as Hermione had told her about the upcoming risk but Will had immediately offered his help. "It's time," she told everybody as they gathered in the kitchen. "I just felt a huge shift in the wards." She hesitated. "It felt like a lot of people."

Lucius then suddenly appeared in the kitchen. Behind him glided the black-hooded Dementor. "Ting," he told the Dementor. It stopped.

Harry gave it a wary look. Over the years, he had become less fearful of Dementors, but there was still something about the dark figures that haunted him. Even though this one was simply standing there and wasn't sucking in everybody's good emotions from the air around it, Hermione could still see the apprehension lining Harry's face. "Are you sure you can control it?"

Lucius raised an eyebrow. "Ba wo hou mian de men guan le," he told the Dementor.

To Hermione's surprise, the Dementor turned around, glided back towards the door and closed it with one clawed hand. "Is that what you told it to do?" she asked.

"Yes," he said.

Last night, Lucius had told them about certain other elements that British wizards hadn't realised about the Dementors. The most important one, Hermione thought, was probably that Dementors could actively control who they affected. Lucius had said that he wasn't affected at all by the Dementor last night, so that probably meant that Narcissa was being targeted specifically. He had hoped that the Dementor would do the same today to Narcissa and whoever she had brought.

"What makes you think that Narcissa will actually show up today?" Will asked.

Lucius opened his mouth but Hermione beat him to it. "She seems like the kind of person who likes to do the dirty work," she said, with a minute shudder. Lucius nodded his assent.

"She will be here. It's personal for her," he told them.

There was a scuffling sound outside the window of the kitchen and Hermione was somewhat amused when everybody whirled around as one and pointed their wands at the window in question. Lucius had managed not only to procure a wand for himself but also one for Snape.

"This is a message for the following people," came a loud clear voice from outside. "Hermione Granger, Jeanette Latham, Lucius Malfoy, Harry Potter, William Sandhurst and Severus Snape. Your magical signatures have been determined to be inside the cottage and we have the cottage surrounded with forty ministry soldiers. You will emerge outside with your hands up in exactly one minute or we shall be forced to start firing curses into the cottage."

Hermione frowned. She could have sworn that the voice outside was familiar but she couldn't place it. She shrugged. Perhaps she had worked with the woman before. Or maybe it was because of the Sonorus charm which always altered voices slightly. "The change in the wards were big enough for that many people," she admitted quietly.

"Well then," Jean said, her voice strangely tight. "Are we going to surrender or not?"

Harry stared at her. "Surrender?" he said in a tone of voice that implied that he didn't even know the definition of the word.

Hermione then remembered Harry's absolute determination during the Voldemort War and how he wouldn't consider any option except absolute victory. "It may be a good idea," she said, even though she didn't want to say it.

"If there are forty Ministry soldiers out there, then fighting them is suicidal," Jean said.

"You have ten seconds," the voice from outside said. "Nine."

"Surrender?" Hermione said, closing her eyes slightly.

"Eight."

"Seven."

"Six."

When she opened them, she looked over at Lucius who moved his head slightly to one side. The Dementor! She had almost forgotten about it, since it was so quiet. "We'll surrender. Jean's right. It would be suicide."

"Five."

Hermione tucked her wand in her belt and went over to the kitchen door that led to the outside. She opened it and could immediately see dozens of wands pointed towards her. She paled. Obviously the voice with the Sonorus charm hadn't been lying. She lifted her arms and placed her hands on her head as she walked outside. Everybody else followed her.

The Ministry soldiers formed a circle around the group. As Hermione moved her head slightly, she noticed that the Dementor wasn't in the circle with them. Obviously Lucius had left it in the kitchen.

Hermione tried to look unobtrusively at the soldiers. They were wearing black masks and black robes. She gave an involuntary shudder. They looked like Dementors. Or Death Eaters, she thought, paling. She had only heard a very faint rumour of Ministry soldiers, a division of Aurors who had been created after the resignation of Fudge the Great. Or incompetent, she thought, but that thought was frowned upon nowadays.

The lead storm trooper stepped forward and took off her mask and hood. Red hair came spilling out and bright brown eyes stared directly at Hermione.

"Ginny?" Hermione managed to gasp out. "I thought..."

Ginny gave a small smirk. "You thought wrong," she said quietly. "It was necessary for me to go... underground for a while."

"You let your family think that you were either dead or in jail?" Harry said, his tone incredulous.

"I have a new family now," Ginny said indifferently. "Don't think you can stop progress, Harry."

"You think this is progress?" Hermione asked softly. "Do you truly believe that, Ginny? What have they done to you?"

There was a flicker of something in her eyes but then it submerged and was gone. Hermione realised that the girl that she had known during Hogwarts was buried too deeply inside this new Ginny and was perhaps gone forever. This woman standing before her was hard. Harder than she had ever seen Ginny before.

Somebody was stepping through the crowd of storm troopers and without even looking at the figure, Hermione knew that it could only be Narcissa. There were subtle signs of respect in the storm troopers she brushed past. As she reached the front, Ginny stepped aside and inclined her head.

Narcissa was wearing a dark red robe that looked the colour of blood. She looked at Hermione and to Hermione's surprise, she smiled. "You almost fooled me, Mudblood. For that I congratulate you."

"I believe I did fool you," Hermione spat.

Narcissa's eyes flitted across their paltry little group and settled on her former husband. "I see Lucius is still alive. Pity. I never thought you would spread your legs for him, but obviously..." she let her sentence trail off and the meaning settle in everybody.

Hermione saw the smirk on Ginny's lips widen and her hand itched to slap it off. She could feel Lucius's posture stiffening behind her.

"What is she talking about?" Harry asked.

Narcissa gave a delighted laugh. "You sly little Mudblood. You didn't even tell them." Her eyes brightened.

"Hermione?" Harry asked.

"I'll tell you later," she said shortly. "It is nothing important."

"She's right," Will cut in, a small tremor in his voice. Hermione shot him a grateful look.

Jean was silent.

"Since you're such a little Mudblood whore, I'm sure some of my storm troopers would like to sample your wares," Narcissa said casually.

Hermione fought to keep her face neutral as Narcissa mentioned names of her former classmates. She resisted the urge to glance backwards at Lucius, and wondered when he was going to call the Dementor.

Just then, Narcissa glanced around at her storm troopers. "Have any of you checked inside the cottage?" she asked.

There was a collective murmur among the black clad group. As Hermione watched, a group of about five broke off and walked towards the kitchen door of the cottage. As they opened it, she felt Lucius shift behind her.

"Kai shi," he said quietly, so that only a few people around them could hear.

Hermione saw some of the storm troopers giving him a strange look. Then suddenly, one of the storm troopers stiffened and clutched at the mask that covered his face. Another one began to tremble. Some seemed relatively unaffected but their wand hands trembled. Ginny's face had gone pure white; her arms had wrapped around herself and she was shaking.

Turning slightly, Hermione looked at Lucius with a question in her eyes.

"It's powerful when they are directly ordered to do something," he murmured softly, his breath tickling her ear and she shivered.

Apparently it was only their little group that was unaffected. Even Narcissa's face had gone ashen and her eyes had glazed over. "Y-you M-m-Mudblood!" she spat out, her face contorted with rage and fear. "A-Av-Avad," she tried but obviously couldn't get the syllables out.

Hermione's hand went down to her wand, which was sticking out of her pocket, when a voice barked. "Not so fast!"

She paled. The voice was very familiar. Slowly, she turned around and saw that Jean had a wand pointed towards her chest. "Why?"

"They offered me far more than your friendship could give," she explained simply. "Now, I want everybody else to put down their wands or I will kill her. Believe me, I can get the Killing Curse out more quickly than you can disarm me."

Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione could see Harry motion for everybody to place their wands onto the ground. "Don't be stupid," she snapped. "What is one life compared to the entire wizarding world? Isn't it apparent that they're going to kill us?"

Jean looked at her. "Well, well," she said nastily. "It seems the Mudblood has finally managed to understand our goals."

"So what are you hesitating for?" Hermione ground out, furious at her friends. She supposed she would be equally hesitant in their position but that was no excuse! She could tell that some people were fighting and slowly overcoming the effect of the Dementor. After all, even magnified, there was still only one Dementor and forty or so people.

They still seemed to hesitate.

There was a small motion behind her and as she saw Jean's eyes flicker away from her own face, Hermione reached down and drew her wand out of her pocket. Jean's eyes immediately snapped back to her face and her mouth formed the syllables of the Killing Curse. But Hermione was faster and her spell had fewer syllables. "Stupefy!" she cried.

Jean fell backwards and collapsed onto the ground.

Now, everybody seemed to snap into action. Hermione stupefied ten storm troopers consecutively and watched as everybody else did the same.

Lucius, with a curl of his lip, walked over to his former wife - who glared at him through hate-filled, but still fearful eyes - and pointed his stolen wand at her. Hermione could hear the words, whispered as though they were, "Avada Kedavra."

Narcissa collapsed, the shielding spell still on her lips.

Hermione herself dealt with Ginny. Staring into the other woman's eyes, she was surprised to see the first flickers of fear in them. "Don't worry," she said. "I'm not going to kill you. Ron would never forgive me." With a flick of her wand, Ginny was bound on the ground.

She was so intent on this that she had forgotten that some of the storm troopers were fighting the coldness brought on by the Dementor. "Avada..." she heard somebody say behind her when somebody knocked her to the ground.

That was the last thing she remembered as her head hit the stone and she blacked out.