The Silver Swan

Chapter 7

In the time-honoured fashion of heroes and bandits through the ages, we struck at dawn. As planned, Fred and George, with Dobby's help, conveyed us all to our appointed locations, where we waited for the action to start. I found myself absurdly and inadequately concealed behind an ornamental shrub with Susan, Hermione and my sister. Separated from Cho and Ginny, my borrowed courage quickly ebbed away.

I looked around at my companions. They all seemed so brave. Hermione with jaw clenched and eyes grim. Not happy, no, but prepared for anything. Then again, she had done this before. Susan ... to look at her she could have been sitting in the Great Hall waiting for breakfast to appear, not crouching in the shadows waiting to have her arse cursed off by Dark wizards. Parvati, at least, was showing mixed emotions. To me, if to no one else, it was clear that she had doubts about what we were doing. They weren't stopping her, though.

How did I look to them, I wondered? Could they tell that my mouth had turned to sandpaper and my bowels to water? Could they tell that years of blind devotion to Cho Chang and a fear of ridicule that only marginally outweighed my fear of death were the only things preventing me from bursting into tears and collapsing in a pathetic heap? Possibly. No one said a word, but Parvati silently reached over and took my hand, as she used to do when we were ten years old and I was afraid of the neighbours' dogs. 'You think too much, Padma,' she used to tell me then, 'just ignore them and they won't bother you.' Would only that I could ignore this ...

And then there was no more time for thought, or fear, or anything else. Crashes and explosions came from inside the house; Fred and George, as planned, were sending explosives of various kinds by Floo into the great hall of Malfoy Manor. The two of them would soon be following. It was time to go.

Like stooping falcons, Harry, Ginny and Cho came hurtling out of the sky on broomsticks. Chasers today instead of Seekers, they sent more missiles crashing through the French doors that Dobby had indicated. It was our turn now. We were the infantry. Without knowing how, I found myself running with the others, all of us yelling at the top of our fool lungs. Suddenly nothing mattered except getting there, getting out of the open.

Inside, all was chaos. Smoke and stink filled the air and already spells and hexes were flying. On the far side of the room, a tall figure and two smaller ones - Lucius and his remaining elves, presumably - stood and fired off red and green bolts in the direction of the great hearth. There, I saw the Weasley twins pinned down, dodging weaving, and firing back seemingly at random. Yells and curses came from others farther away, hidden by the smoke.

Now spells were coming our way as well. We dove for cover behind broken furniture, not even thinking of trying anything of our own. It was three of them to nine of us, and we were badly outnumbered. But then through the shattered windows came swooping the three flyers, and the tide of battle shifted. Following Dobby's advice, Harry and Cho sought out the two elves. A silver stag and swan appeared briefly, and Malfoy's servants were put to flight.

Ginny went straight for Lucius.

Through the noise and confusion, her clear voice rang out, chanting spells with clinical detachment and military precision. Lucius, at first, seemed not to realise that this small person was a threat to him. When he finally sent a curse her way, she deflected it scornfully with a shield charm; by then she was taking action of her own. Behind Lucius, a heavy statuette stirred from its niche in the wall and raised itself silently into the air. A flick of her wand and it sped toward the back of his head like an assassin's bullet. Fixated on Ginny, he never saw it.

It struck. He died. Just like that.

She turned in my direction then, and I saw the look in her eyes; I saw triumph without fulfilment, climax without satiation and, in a day forever marked for me by terror, that was the most frightening thing of all.

A shriek pierced the air. A tall woman with dishevelled blonde hair came rushing in, a waif-like child clinging to her robes. Skidding to a halt in the doorway, she took in the scene before her. In the blink of an eye, her wand was in her hand pointing to Ginny who, facing the other way, had no chance. As loudly as I could, I yelled out.

"Ginny! Behind you!!"

It was too late; even as Ginny turned I could see the woman's mouth begin to utter the curse that would kill her. Fortunately for Ginny, however, my companions were taking rather more constructive action. From behind me, two red bolts shot by as Susan and Hermione both sent stunning spells. Susan's missed altogether, but startled the woman out of her concentration, forcing her to leap back and ruining the curse meant for Ginny. Hermione's spell, coming a second later, struck the spot where the woman had been standing, but in her place was now the child.

As she toppled over we saw her face. It was a little girl, no more than three or four years old, her features an angelic parody of Draco's. And then tragedy struck because Parvati too had cast a spell. Not a stunner, but Reducto, her finest achievement from our days of the DA. The ceiling of the entryway collapsed. The woman leapt back instinctively out of harm's way. The child, stunned, could not. Before our horrified eyes, she was showered with chunks of falling masonry and then by roof beams, crushing the life out of her.

Dust hung in the air, and the sudden silence was deafening. It was over. We had won. We had killed.

Unsure of what to do next, we milled about the shattered hall, for all the world like tourists who had just paid five pounds a head to visit a romantic ruin - complete with the body of its late owner, lying face down in a growing pool of blood. Only Harry and the twins seemed to have a purpose; they were looking for the trap door of which we had heard so much. Ginny was in one corner with Cho who, I suddenly realised, was looking extremely ill. I saw that Michael had noticed this as well and started to head over, but Ginny waved him away. I knew better than to try it myself.

My attention, in any case, was diverted by Parvati tugging at my sleeve and pointing over to Hermione who had sunk to a crouch in the middle of the floor seemingly in a complete daze. We went over to her, but she seemed not to notice us.

And then suddenly, it wasn't over at all. I heard the sharp gunshot crack that accompanies Apparation. Through the window, I saw them arriving on the front lawn, two, then five, then more. They all wore masks. We had waited too long. The cavalry had come to the rescue, but it wasn't us they were rescuing. As more appeared behind them, the first of the Death Eaters came charging toward us, sending curses before them. A huge crystal chandelier came crashing down from the ceiling, sending deadly shards of glass flying through the room. A cry of pain came from behind me, and I saw my sister go down, clutching her side.

There is no doubt in my mind that Ginny Weasley saved all of our lives at that moment, and she didn't do it with magic but with the quick thinking and instant decision of a battlefield general. I saw her wand point to her throat, and then her amplified voice boomed out over the chaos.

"All of you! Get out! Harry, Cho - brooms. The rest of you, back to the fireplace. Fred, George, hold it until they're all through. Everybody move, NOW !!"

Ginny fell back with her brothers, defending the hearth that was our line of retreat. We saw Michael, Luna and Neville go through. As far as we four were concerned, though, the safety of the hearth might as well have been on another planet. We were separated from it by the width of the room, an open space that the arriving Death Eaters were turning into a firing range. I felt Susan grasp my hand, and she spoke into my ear.

"Stay with me. Get your sister and move when I do."

Then, imitating Ginny, she too amplified her voice.

"Ginny! Don't wait for us. We can't get to you but there's another way out."

That was news to me. I turned back, incredulous, to see what Susan was up to. She gestured in the direction of the French doors we had shattered on the way in.

"Bring Parvati. Come on!"

This, at least, I managed. I pulled my sister out of the fray and dragged her to safety. It was, I fear, my principal contribution to the battle of Malfoy Manor.

Protected by the confusion of the moment, we made it through the windows and ran. I supported Parvati, conscious but bleeding from the wound in her side and another on her leg. Susan half carried Hermione, outwardly unscathed but still in shock. After a moment, Susan stopped, ducking behind some shrubbery.

"What are you doing?! We have to keep going."

"Just hang on. Bring her round here. We all have to hold hands."

As she said this, Susan was frantically working with her free hand, taking a locket from a chain around her neck and opening it. Inside was a cameo, a man's head in profile.

"OK, here goes. Damn it, Hermione, hang on!"

I felt a familiar tugging and realised that the cameo was a portkey. Moments later we found ourselves in a heap on a cold marble floor. Looking around I saw a vast, formal room, with a hearth at one end and a great rectangular table in the middle. For a terrible instant, I thought we were back in Malfoy Manor, but of course we weren't. From behind us came a voice, familiar, although for a moment I couldn't place it.

"Why am I not surprised?"

*

* *

I looked up to see Millicent Bulstrode.

As always, no unnecessary words were exchanged between Susan and Millicent. The tall dark girl looked us over without visible emotion.

"How bad?"

Susan looked first at Parvati and then at Hermione, who lay where she had fallen, unmoving and without seeming understanding. She indicated her with a gesture of the head.

"This one's worse. Shock, we think."

"Right. Don't move. I'll get Alden."

She moved away and then, seemingly as an afterthought, turned back and conjured warm blankets over us. Only then did I realise that my teeth were chattering and my body shaking, as if from bitter cold.

Moments later she was back with a man. It was obvious that they were related; the same features that gave Millicent her expression of perpetual aggression had, in this older man, weathered into a craggy, if still rather fierce, charm. Unlike Millicent he, at least, was clearly surprised to find us sprawled on his floor. For a fleeting moment, indeed, he seemed lost in thought, but Millicent's voice brought him back to reality.

"Alden Bulstrode - my father. Now tell us everything."

"Hold on. This one is injured."

He knelt down by Parvati and examined her quickly, but with obvious skill.

"Sari!"

With a disconcerting pop, a house elf appeared from nowhere.

"Ointment and bandages."

"Yes, sir."

Even in the haze of shock and confusion, I remember thinking that this exchange had none of the sycophantic grovelling I associated with house elves. Clearly, Alden Bulstrode expected intelligence and efficiency from his staff, not fawning obeisance. If so, he wasn't disappointed. Moments later, Sari was back not only with the requested items, but also with a basin of hot water and towels. Behind her, a second elf appeared with mugs of steaming tea, which he proceeded to pass round after having made eye contact with Alden and received a nod of approval. I took mine gratefully, noting that it was very sweet and had been liberally laced with something considerably stronger than tea. With Sari's assistance, Alden made short work of cleaning and binding Parvati's wounds. Hermione was another matter.

"She'll have to come around in her own time. Keep her warm and don't leave her alone. She can stay where she is for now. Now, talk."

This last was addressed to Susan, who seemed somehow to fit here, to be automatically accepted. Alden and Millicent listened in silence to her narrative of our adventures. Finally, it was over. Alden Bulstrode shook his head and gave a grimace in which were mingled disapproval and very grudging admiration. There was no doubt, however, as to which was uppermost.

"What a very Gryffindor thing to do..."

"What do you mean?"

"Incredible courage in the service of unbelievable stupidity."

In my secret Ravenclaw heart, I was beginning to suspect that he was probably right. I looked round at my companions, expecting to hear protest. Slowly, I understood that I was not alone in feeling as I did. It was only as Alden began to speak, however, that we began to fathom the depth of our folly.

"You do realise that you killed the wrong ones?"

Only Susan had the courage to make a semblance of an answer.

"What do you mean?"

"Lucius was a politically ambitious mediocrity. He loved his position far too much ever to be a real threat to the present order - and the Dark Lord knew it, and never really trusted him ... Narcissa, on the other hand ... The real tragedy, though is the girl."

"Why? Do you think she could have been saved?"

"You still don't understand, do you? Saved! That child was conceived for one purpose: to be the willing consort of the Dark Lord. What really matters, though, is that she is the only living creature her mother or brother ever loved, and they if I understood you rightly, are still very much alive."

"Afraid so. Narcissa got away and we never even saw Draco."

"So now you have Narcissa, free to put her very considerable talents to work on planning vengeance. I'll tell you the first thing she'll do. Draco will be wearing the Dark Mark by this time tomorrow, if he isn't already, and that is something he never would have done on his own."

"You think not?"

It was Millicent who answered.

"Never. Left to himself, Malfoy is a coward. He would practically wet himself just thinking about it. He won't have a choice now, though."

"And neither of them have anything to lose."

We considered this in silence for quite a long time. Finally it was Hermione, rousing herself for the first time, who voiced the question that we had been avoiding.

"So what happens to us now?"

What indeed? Now that emotion had drained away, we could look objectively at our position, and it wasn't good. Underage magic was the least of our problems. Hermione's voice was bleak with despair.

"We killed people ... we killed a child."

Susan and I exchanged looks of hopelessness. We had nothing to say to this. In the end, it was Parvati, still limping and bruised, who went to comfort Hermione, followed, surprisingly, by Millicent from whom gentle kindness was the last thing I would have expected. Alden left us, saying he was off to gather news and warning us all to stay put in the meantime. We put Hermione and Parvati to bed. Millicent said she would stay with them for a while. Hermione seemed to find her formidable presence reassuring. I was left with Susan. Alone with this quiet, serious girl, whose true depth and strength I was only beginning to suspect, I finally found my voice.

"Susan, why are they helping us? How did you know to come here?"

Unexpectedly, she gave a quiet laugh. Coming from her, it somehow didn't seem out of place.

"Millie and I have know each other since we were children. I saved her life once."

I couldn't decide which was more incongruous, Millicent Bulstrode being called 'Millie' or Susan having saved her life. My features must have reflected my confusion, because Susan went on without prompting.

"Alden and my aunt ... they aren't friends, exactly, but I think they often work together, behind the scenes. You could say they're allies, politically."

"You saved her life?"

"Yeah, I did. From Draco Malfoy, as a matter of fact."

A baffled expression was the best I could manage. Susan went on without prompting.

"We were kids, no more than seven or eight. Draco was a vicious little beast even then. He was terrified of Millie, of course, but one day he made up a game that involved all of us capturing her and tying her up - except that he made sure to get the rope around her neck. She would have strangled if I hadn't managed to get her loose."

"You were playing together?! You and Malfoy?"

"You have to understand, Padma, the old families ... there aren't that many of us, we all know each other. So yeah, the kids play together sometimes. Doesn't mean we're all friends, though. With Millie and me it was different. We seem to fit together, somehow. Maybe because I'm not afraid of her, she likes that I think."

A faint smile played over her features, suggesting much more than she was actually saying. And then, just as I was reconciling myself to being kept in the dark, she volunteered more.

"Her mother left when she was just a kid. Alden never really got over it, and Millie hates to talk about it. With me, she knows that she doesn't have to. We work together. We know we can count on each other. She gave me that cameo when we first went to Hogwarts. For emergencies, she said. I thought this might qualify."

It was the longest speech I had ever heard Susan make, and the closest thing to a joke. I was still trying to take it all in when Alden returned. He had news. We weren't wanted criminals. It was worse.

We were heroes.

*

* *

Alden's informants had told him that Cornelius Fudge, although he couldn't admit it in public, was beside himself with joy at the news of Malfoy's demise.

"You've done him a good turn, no doubt about that. Now that the Dark Lord's return can no longer be denied, Malfoy had become a major embarrassment. You'll be lucky if the Minister doesn't insist on giving you all the Order of Merlin First Class - with crossed wands in Miss Weasley's case."

Hermione shuddered visibly at his sarcasm, but now that she had regained her strength, she felt once again the temptation to self-justification.

"Mr. Bulstrode, Alden, you know that's not why we did it. It was for Harry and the Weasleys. We couldn't just let them be hurt again like that and do nothing..."

Alden's reply was surprisingly gentle.

"I know that. Your problem is that Cornelius Fudge doesn't, and you're in his hands now, all of you. He's not going to let it stop here."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, Hermione, that the Minister has any number of other former associates whose sudden demise would be very convenient to him just now, and he's just found a way to make it happen."

"But we can't ... we'd never ..."

Alden gave no answer, but one was forthcoming nonetheless. It was my sister who spoke up, for the first time since our arrival in this place.

"Don't be so sure, Hermione. I've heard them talking - Harry and Ginny, and even Neville. They're not going to want to stop."

Thinking back to my last conversation with Ginny and Cho, I had to agree. It wasn't a happy thought.

In any case, it was time to go. The best solution, we decided was to floo back to WWW without revealing where we had been. Alden was adamant on this last point.

"Please understand, I can't be involved on either side of this. A great deal depends on that. Not a word now or later - especially at Hogwarts."

Involuntarily, his gaze turned to Millicent as he said that, and I understood that it was her safety that concerned him. We agreed and came up with a story involving an emergency portkey - that much at least was true - and a wizarding pub that Susan knew, conveniently far away in the West Country.

"My aunt will know, of course, but if I ask her she'll keep our secret."

"She already knows, and yes she will."

*

* *

Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes ... trick wands and dubious sweets. We were back where we'd started.

Our return, I must say, caused a sensation. We weren't fully out of the fireplace before Cho was in my arms, while Harry and Ginny between them very nearly smothered Hermione in a fierce embrace. Not wanting to be left out of the reunion, I saw the twins exchange a mirthful glance and then spring up to welcome Parvati and Susan. My sister, at least, was up to the challenge and George, or was it Fred, was met with a kiss he wouldn't soon forget. Susan smiled and let herself be hugged. Thinking back to our time with the Bulstrodes, it occured to me that she and Millicent had made no attempt ever to be alone together. Even so, I was more certain than ever that the bond between those two, whatever it was, went deep, and I strongly suspected that it wasn't Fred or George whose embrace she really wanted. In any event, she got both, as the twins switched partners. Parvati obliged.

All of these thoughts, of course came to me later. At the time, all I knew was my cheeks were wet with Cho's tears of relief and that, as she held me close to her, the horror of the morning finally began to recede. In that moment I distinctly remember thinking that maybe it had all been worth it after all.

When we had all untangled ourselves and caught our collective breath, it was Susan who told the story we had arranged. It sounded frankly thin to me, but no one questioned it. Clearly, they all had other things on their mind. Harry, for the first time since the DA meetings of last year, was looking if not happy then at least grimly satisfied.

"You'll never guess who was just here."

In light of Alden's story, of course, we could guess only too well. But Hermione just shook her head.

"Tell us."

"The Minister for Magic, that's who."

The inherent comedy of the moment was too much for the twins to resist.

"Chuffed he was..."

"Just wanted to shake our hands, he did..."

"Hush it all up, he will..."

"Just speak to him first next time, he said..."

Hermione interrupted the cross-talk act.

"What do you mean, next time?"

And suddenly all humour evaporated from the room. Ginny stood and, without saying a word, took charge once again. As if obeying a summons, Cho dropped my hand and went back to her side.

"Don't be naïve, Hermione. You know very well we can't stop here."

"But Ginny, you saw what happened back there. We had no idea what we were doing. We could all have been killed."

"Yes ... we were just talking about that. Clearly we have to improve our tactics. But now we can get help with that."

They both let the matter drop. Hermione was clearly unconvinced, but neither of them was willing to provoke a quarrel.

Instead, we focused on practical questions. Dispassionately, Harry and Ginny discussed with us what had happened that morning, what we had done right and wrong, our nearly-fatal error of lingering too long. Harry, as always when he allowed himself to relax, was a good teacher. By the end, it seemed almost like a school lesson, and even Hermione was contributing to the conversation. Maybe that was their intent from the first.

We talked about what we would do when we got back to school and, somehow, that was strangest of all. We were all accustomed to thinking of Hogwarts as a place apart, a world unto itself. Now Harry was seeing it as a base in wartime, an inviolable refuge from which we would issue forth to strike at our enemies. The most frightening thing of all, of course, was that listening to them talk about it, it all seemed to make sense.