Endlong into Midnight

CHAPTER FIVE
The City of Words of Blue

Hermione returned to the house to find everyone buzzing in a state of controlled chaos. Lupin was attempting to marshall people out into the back garden, and he gestured for her to follow.

Out in the back garden, she found Seamus Finnigan charming rocks and sticks into Portkeys. Preceded by the last stragglers, Lupin left the house, and started sorting people into groups for transport. "Seamus is charming these to put you down just outside the village," he told them. "Walk west and you should find yourself at the end of the high street. Go to the safe house. Do not alert the Muggles. Wait there until I arrive. Are you ready, Seamus?"

"Think I've got enough," Seamus said. He started moving among the groups, handing them all stones or branches. "They're triggered Portkeys. Won't go off until I say."

Hermione was on a branch with Angel, Spike, Remus, and -- she was guessing -- Seamus. She held the stick out in front of her. "Grab the stick," she said to Angel and Spike. "Don't let go." They both took hold of the branch. Angel's hand brushed against hers; it was unnervingly cool.

Lupin nodded at Seamus, who nodded back and then touched his wand to the first group's rock. "Porto!" he cried, and with a loud crack! they disappeared. Seamus moved to the next group, and after about thirty seconds, Remus nodded again. "Porto!"

It took several minutes to work through all the groups. Finally, with Lupin, Hermione, Angel, and Spike the last people standing in the garden, Seamus grabbed the branch, tapped it, and said, "Porto!"

Hermione suppressed a groan as the familiar sensation of traveling by Portkey overtook her, that feeling of being reeled in like a fish on a hook. The world swirled past in a dark blur, and Hermione felt slightly dizzy before the Portkey finally let them go outside Stockbridge Main. She swayed, but stayed upright.

Spike let go of the stick as if it had burned him. "Is there any method of traveling for you wizard lot that is even remotely pleasant?"

"Brooms aren't fair bad," said Seamus.

"I'll stick to cars, then, thanks. Right-o. Where to now?"

"West," Lupin repeated, "to the village."

The walk into Stockbridge Main wasn't long, only about a quarter-mile. Remus paused at the turn to the safe house and motioned ahead. "Go on to your assigned house, you three. Don't disturb the Muggles," he reminded them. Hermione thought that this might just have been aimed at Spike, who seemed to agree: he made a "who, me?" face and Angel rolled his eyes.

They trudged on down the high street and around the corner to their house, Spike grumbling under his breath. The three of them took up positions around the house, a small affair at the end of a lane that intersected with the high street, and started to wait. After a few minutes, it was easy to forget that Spike and Angel were there. Hermione knew Angel was standing at the back corner of the house, but he disappeared into the moonless night. Periodically she heard the click of a lighter as Spike went through another cigarette.

Time passed. Hermione wasn't willing to light her wand to see her watch, so she wasn't sure if it was minutes or hours later when she heard a crack! echo down the street. She tensed, drawing her want out of her pocket. This was it: the Death Eaters had arrived. "Get ready," she breathed. From the shadows, she saw the faintest movement as Angel prepared for a fight.

Death Eaters started filing down the street, laughing and joking among themselves. Hermione stood as still as she could, holding her breath, and tried to count the Death Eaters as they passed by. The Order was outnumbered, she thought, but not as badly as they had been on previous missions.

"Wait for them to approach the house," Hermione said under her breath. The last of the Death Eaters walked past, and, giggling, a group of four broke off and headed for the house that Hermione, Angel, and Spike were guarding.

She dropped one of them with a wordless Stupefy! from her hiding place before they realized she was there. The red light of the spell gave her away, and Hermione hit the ground and rolled as the other three aimed a mix of stunners and Unforgivables at her position. Her bad knee protested with a throb of pain, and she bit back a curse.

As the Death Eaters advanced on her, Angel and Spike were there, leaping out of the shadows. Angel immediately kicked the wand out of his Death Eater's hand, while Spike aimed a series of punches at the Death Eater facing off with him. That left one Death Eater for her to deal with. She rolled again as he aimed the Cruciatus Curse at her. "Order members!" he shouted. "Order members!"

From the shouts arising all around the village, his cohorts were finding that out for themselves. All the lights in the house they were guarding went on, and Hermione groaned, both at her knee and the number of Memory Charms they were going to have to perform.

Hermione stayed on the ground, aiming her wand at her opponent. "Expelliarmus!" she said, remembering what Harry had taught her. Her Death Eater was unable to block in time; his wand went sailing into the night. She staggered to her feet and tried for two, casting a quick "Stupefy!", but the Death Eater dodged. Snarling, he ran at her, arms outstretched. She jogged backwards and tried a different approach. "Confundo!" she called, managing to perform the complicated flicking movement even while racing backwards. The spell hit the Death Eater, and he immediately dropped his arms and stopped chasing her, looking around in utter befuddlement. She put him out of his misery with another stunner, and he dropped like a sack of potatoes.

She looked to her left and right. With a series of punches -- right, left, right -- and a spinning kick, his coat flying around him, Angel downed his Death Eater. Spike, on the other hand, seemed to be amusing himself by repeatedly introducing the Death Eater's face to his knee. He looked over, noticed their Death Eaters were down, shrugged, and finished the man with a knee to the groin and a quick knock to the back of the head.

"That was fun," Spike said. "Next?"

Hermione pointed toward the village, where flashes of light interspersed with loud cries. "We help the others. Come on."

She jogged down the street toward Stockbridge Main, Angel and Spike pacing her, ready to aid the other teams. At the other end of the street, nearer the village, Laura-Anne Jetter finished off a Death Eater with a skillful Somnus Charm and called, "Got yours, Hermione? Good job! Let's go!"

Laura-Anne and her partner, Orla Quirke, puffing slightly, joined Hermione's team. Hermione noticed that the spells seemed to be concentrated in the middle of the high street. The five of them ran pell-mell toward the battle and then stopped, trying to figure out what was going on. Hermione's knee ached at her.

A large group of Death Eaters were dueling with Order members in the high street, curses flying every direction. Apparently, having come under fire, they decided it was best to fight as a group. Every now and then Hermione saw one of the Order members originally assigned to the houses get off a shot from cover, but they were mostly going wide, distractions more than anything else. The fighting was tangled and messy, curses bouncing off shields and ricocheting, and Hermione and Angel had to duck as a nasty hex sizzled over their heads.

Angel looked over at Spike, who was watching the battle with a certain grim glee. "You thinking what I'm thinking?" he asked.

"Probably so," said Spike. "Distract and disrupt."

"Exactly." Angel glanced at the three witches. "Cover us," he said. To Spike, he added, "Let's go."

Spike morphed into game face, provoking a gasp from Orla Quirke. He and Angel squared their shoulders, dropped their heads, and charged at the group. Hermione immediately started firing off any curse she could think of, mostly the minor hexes and jinxes she learned in her early years at Hogwarts. Some of the Death Eaters broke off to return fire, but by then Angel and Spike were there, careering through the crowd. Their goal, Hermione saw, firing off a Shield Charm, wasn't actually to engage the Death Eaters, but to knock them slightly off their feet, unsettle them and put them off their rhythm. Hermione kept up the fire, running through her memories of jinxes learned while researching for the Triwizard Tournament, and watched as Spike and Angel spun through the crowd -- a sucker punch here, a shove there, all aimed at keeping the Death Eaters unsteady.

This just might work, Hermione thought, advancing so that she could target individual Death Eaters. It certainly seemed to be having an effect; with the Death Eaters in various states of recovery, the Order's accuracy was increasing. Hermione kept up the pace, Laura-Anne and Orla on either side of her -- until one of the Death Eaters called, "Regroup, you idiots! Regroup!"

The Death Eaters, as one, vanished. Hermione had just enough time to look around, wondering where they were -- then, with a boom like a cannon going off, the Death Eaters reappeared from both ends of the street, firing curses before them. A purplish curse rippled over Hermione's head. Grabbing Orla's arm, she dove for cover.

"All right, Hermione?" a voice said. She blinked, chasing away retinal ghosts, and recognized the speaker as Anton Brownet, a wizard about her father's age. He had himself wedged in behind a front stoop, wand out, and was smiling placidly at her. She had very nearly rolled into him. "Bit of a mess, this," he continued.

"I'd say -- Protego!" Hermione said, shielding against an ochre-colored curse that, if she was remembering right, would have disemboweled her.

Cackling triumphantly, the Death Eaters flooded into the street where they had been fighting only moments before, Stunning the few members of the Order who hadn't managed to find cover in time. Luna Lovegood shrieked as she took a curse in the back and fell. Hermione tried to look over the brick half-wall she was sheltering behind and nearly got her head shot off for the trouble. A Reductor Curse smashed into the house behind them, sending bricks crumbling down upon them. Brownet hastily curled up his legs to avoid getting hit.

"Dammit," Hermione whispered, surreptitiously trying to lean around the half-wall so she could tell what was going on. This was not going well. She was pinned down, separated from her team, and out of ideas about what to do next -- for the moment anyway. Out in the street, the Death Eaters cackled to each other, firing off spells at the Order members who weren't completely concealed. She crouched, back against the half-wall, and thought.

"Come out, come out, come out wherever you are!" a woman's voice called. Hermione froze, shivers of anger and fear running up her spine. "Order members! I know you're here!" the woman continued.

I should have known, Hermione thought. Of course Bellatrix Lestrange would want in on a mission like this. Hermione was never sure how much of Lestrange's insanity was real and how much was feigned, but it made her a frighteningly effective Death Eater.

"Oh," Lestrange said, poutily. "No Order members want to play? I suppose I'll have to find someone to play with on my own, then."

Muggles. There was only one thing for it. "Do either of you know how to perform a Mirror Shield Charm?" Hermione whispered.

"No," said Brownet, at the same time as Quirke said, "What?"

Hermione grimaced. She didn't have time to teach them. The mirror shield was hard to perform, but if pulled off it covered the caster in a mirrored shield that reflected all curses thrown -- including spells from the inside, which was why it didn't see much use. It also lasted longer than the standard Shield Charm, protecting the caster for two minutes or so.

"Granger!" Lestrange called in a sing-song voice. "I know you're out there. Quit pretending you can stop us, and show yourself. Come on, let Bella see the goody-two-shoes you've become."

"Now or never," Hermione muttered, and pointed her wand at herself. "Protego Specularis!" The shield snapped into place, forming a silvery bubble around her, and Hermione pushed away from the wall. The timer was on. She'd have to hope that someone could follow her lead.

"Lestrange!" she shouted, shooting to her feet and hoping no one heard how her knee cracked. Three Death Eaters turned to face her. Six more shot curses at her and she stood still, reflecting them back at their owners, who howled as the curses hit them. Quirke trembled in her shelter.

Hermione stepped out from behind the half-wall, towards the Death Eater that she knew was Bellatrix Lestrange, even though she was masked and hooded. She kept her wand raised, although she wasn't really sure what she was going to do with it.

"Oh," cooed Lestrange. "Does the little Mudblood want to play? Well, then. Let's play." She advanced on Hermione, who walked out into the street to meet her. Hermione kept her silence, knowing it would aggravate Bellatrix. And all the while, a timer was ticking in her head . . .

"It's been a while since I've seen the Mudblood Granger," Lestrange said, circling Hermione. The other Death Eaters, chuckling, backed away. They were all holding their fire, apparently not terribly keen on taking a curse. Hermione held her ground, hoping none of them chose this moment to get smart. Voldemort chose his Death Eaters not for cleverness, but for brutality.

"A long time since I've seen ickle Potter, too," continued Lestrange. "Too long. My Master wants to know where he is."

Hermione said nothing, and she didn't turn her head to follow when Bellatrix Lestrange walked around behind her. Out of the corners of her eyes, she thought she could see Order members taking advantage of her distraction and moving to regroup. She hoped they had something planned; by her count, she had less than a minute left on her mirror shield.

"Cat stolen your tongue, Mudblood?" Bellatrix hissed. "No point in being brave. My Master knows you know. The Dark Lord has ways of making you tell."

Hermione struggled to mask off her anxiety, turn it into a look of boredom. She controlled her trembling as Lestrange completed the circle, coming around her right side. She was alone in the middle of a group of Death Eaters with no backup plan and no way to communicate with her fellow Order members.

As if sensing her worry, Lestrange said, "Where are your friends, Granger? Have they given up and abandoned you? I know they're here. The traitor werewolf, Lupin. Are you scared, Lupin?" she cried. "Hiding? Sacrificing the filthy Mudblood to save yourself? It's no more than she's worth, really."

Hermione bristled, despite her best efforts to ignore Lestrange.

"Well, Mudblood?" Lestrange said, coming to stand in front of Hermione. "Got anything to say for yourself? If you tell, maybe my Master will go easy on you." She cackled.

Hermione opened her mouth to give Lestrange her best schoolgirl telling-off --

-- and her mirror shield disappeared from around her with a pop! more felt than heard.

Bellatrix Lestrange had not gotten where she was in the Death Eaters without knowing how to act on opportunities. Before Hermione's muscles could react, Bellatrix had already trained her wand on her and was crying, "Crucio!"

Hermione tried to brace and then totally lost it as the pain moved over her, consuming and engulfing her. The pain was worse than she remembered, slicing stabbing smashing shooting burning blistering crashing crushing -- Hermione ran out of words to describe the pain before she ran out of pain. She was dimly aware of a tumult on the street, voices yelling, but everything seemed to be reaching her through a red fog. Every nerve in her body was shrieking. So was she, she realized. Hermione felt herself start to lose consciousness --

-- and then it all went away. Hermione discovered she was lying in a ball in the street. She turned her head slightly, woozy, and realized her face was resting in a pile of her own sick. She gagged and then groaned.

"Hermione!" Angel bent down into her field of vision, looking concerned. "You all right?"

She spat, the acidic saliva sliding down her face. "Do I look all right?" she snapped, coughed, and winced. The Cruciatus Curse had left her with a grating, bone-deep ache that she knew from experience wouldn't leave her for hours or days.

"Come on," Angel said. "You've gotta get out of here. Here --" He reached out a hand. Hermione took it, trying to lever herself to her feet, but she couldn't stay standing. Before she could ask for help, Angel swept her up, jogging away from where Bellatrix Lestrange lay sprawled.

"What'd you do to her?" Hermione asked, voice hoarse. She put a hand to her throat.

"Hit her," Angel said shortly. He carried Hermione back away from the battle, around behind a house on the high street. Hermione noticed faces in the first floor windows and wondered how long they had before the Muggle policemen would show.

Remus was waiting behind the house, kneeling beside Parvati Patil, who had a nasty spell burn running down one arm. "Oh, Angel," he said, looking up and rising from a crouch. "Let's lay her down --" Together, he and Angel settled Hermione on the ground between Parvati and Luna Lovegood, who was unconscious. Angel nodded grimly and walked off, probably to rejoin the fight.

Hermione leaned against the building, putting a hand to her head, which throbbed. Lupin knelt next to her, fishing in his pocket for some chocolate. "Eat this," he said, handing it to her. Ritchie Coote came barrelling around the corner of the house, looking urgent, and Lupin stood, going to him. Hermione held the chocolate in both hands, trying to still the convulsive twitching caused by her nervous system going haywire after being overstimulated.

"You were really brave, Hermione," Parvati said, moving her arm and wincing.

"Thank you," Hermione said, biting off some of the chocolate. It helped to calm the twitching -- not completely, but enough that she wasn't constantly shaking from muscle tremors. She'd managed to forget precisely how unpleasant it was to be hit with the Cruciatus Curse.

Finishing his business with Coote, Lupin turned back to Hermione. "You were lucky," he said, frowning. "Any one of those Death Eaters could have used Avada Kedavra at any time. You could have been dead as soon as you stood."

"Lestrange called for me specifically," Hermione said. "She's obviously the most senior Death Eater here. The others wouldn't have interfered with whatever it was she had in mind."

Lupin gave her a level stare. "As quick on your feet as ever, Hermione."

Hermione closed her eyes and turned away from the mild disbelief in his tone. She had responded to Lestrange's taunting out of a certain desperate instinct and had only figured out the reasoning behind the impulse later. Lupin, apparently, felt that counted as rationalization.

"He's only worried about you," Parvati said quietly.

Sighing, Hermione opened her eyes. "I know."

Hermione sat behind the house with Parvati for several minutes, listening to the sounds of the running battle and waiting for the splintering pains in her chest to subside. Flashes of light outlined the shadow of the house in multiple colors. She listened to people screaming, crying, and yelling curses, and wondered at how quickly people could get accustomed to the sounds of battle. Periodically, injured Order members would stagger behind the house for treatment, or healthy ones would bring updates to Lupin.

Beside Hermione, Parvati sat rolling her wand between her fingers and grimacing with pain. Luna, on Hermione's other side, lay still -- unnaturally still, Hermione thought -- and then Hermione realized that Luna's stillness was because she wasn't breathing. Hermione reached over and touched Luna's arm. It was still warm, but there was something about the body that told her that Luna, the strange, the nonsensical, and ultimately, the brave, had gone elsewhere.

Hermione dropped her hand, frowning, as a numbing sadness moved over her. She and Luna had never been friends, but she had come to respect Luna's intense courage. The D.A. had given Luna a purpose and a fight, and she had enthusiastically taken to defending and aiding the Order after she left Hogwarts. Hermione thought about it for a moment and realized with a shock that she would miss Luna deeply: radish earrings, nonsense creatures and all.

Her head whipped around as she heard a loud bang! from the direction of the street. Several Order members screamed and ran behind the house, patting themselves and their clothes as if they were on fire. Enough, Hermione thought, and although her legs were trembling, she forced herself to her feet.

Lupin looked over at Hermione from where he was dealing with the screaming Order members, who were now turning in tight circles. "Are you sure you're recovered enough to return?"

"Enough." Hermione clenched her fists. She felt like she was walking on a bed of coals, but she managed to walk around the corner of the house.

The melee she saw in the street was less a battle and more a series of duels. She spotted Anton Brownet and Byron Ford defending each other against attack by a group of Death Eaters, and she saw Angel and Spike brawling with two hulking Death Eaters who had to be Crabbe and Goyle. On the far side of the fight, a revived Bellatrix Lestrange, flanked by two Death Eaters who were likely to be her husband and brother-in-law, sparred with a group of Order members including Hannah Abbott. Lestrange hit Hannah with a bluish curse Hermione couldn't immediately identify, cackling as Hannah yelped and fell.

Hermione, shaking from pain and rage, tightened her grip on her wand and ran toward Lestrange's group. Before she reached them, however, a disturbance at the other end of the high street caught her attention and she stopped, dropping into a crouch for cover.

A Muggle raced towards the high street toward the fighting, yelling something Hermione couldn't make out and waving his arms. The Lestranges and the group fighting them paused and turned, intrigued. Hermione felt her stomach drop as the man drew nearer: he was a member of the Muggle constabulary. When Muggle law enforcement wandered into wizarding business, Aurors followed, and with the current state of the Ministry of Magic, adding Aurors to this fight would effectively add a gaggle of fresh Death Eaters.

"What's all this then?" he brayed, scowling at Lestrange's group. "What are you doing -- stop that right now or I'll have you all in!"

"Go back!" Hermione shouted, standing urgently. She waved him away. "It's not safe -- go back!"

The constable waved a fist at her and cotninued pelting down the street toward them.

"A Muggle," cooed Bellatrix Lestrange, "coming to join in the party. She advanced to meet him, the Order members at her back forgotten.

They, however, immediately reacted. "Petrificus Totalis!" one of them cried, firing the curse at Lestrange's back. Sneering, Rodulphus Lestrange blocked the jinx and returned fire, setting off another fight.

Hermione moved toward the group, ignoring the main battle and tumult behind her. Bellatrix was still walking toward the Muggle constable, who had slowed to a walk to meet her. Abruptly one member of the group fighting the remaining Lestranges broke off and charged at the constable, evidently intending to protect him from Bellatrix Lestrange.

"Hermione!" she heard from one direction, and "Look out!" from another. The first voice had sounded like Angel's. Hermione whirled and saw a Death Eater leaping over Ernie Macmillan's body, firing nasty curses at her. She flung herself to the pavement, wincing as the asphalt bit into her skin, and then rolled to the side. "I don't have time for this," she muttered, bracing her elbow and pointing her wand at the Death Eater. "Rictusempra! Tarantallegra!" Both hexes found their mark. The Death Eater, laughing uncontrollably, danced a wild jig. Hermione, aiming carefully, finished him off with a Stunner. Pushing herself to her feet, she turned back to the confrontation at the end of the street.

There, the Order member -- William Summers, she realized, recognizing him abruptly -- was wrestling with the constable, trying to pull him out of the line of fire. Bellatrix Lestrange muttered something to one of her cronies and then pointed her wand at the pair, crying, "Avada Kedavra!"

Summers half-turned before the curse hit. Both he and the constable fell in a blast of green light. Dammit, Hermione thought, that's definitely going to bring out the Aurors. The Order was already losing the fight. Adding Aurors to the mix would decisively tip the battle in favor of the Death Eaters -- and worse, involving the Ministry meant involving the possibility of Azkaban. The last thing Hermione -- or any member of the Order of the Phoenix -- needed was the Ministry tracking them down with a warrant for their arrest. Of course, Hermione thought grimly, they already have a warrant for my arrest.

Cackling ghoulishly, Bellatrix Lestrange sashayed toward the far end of the street. The small group of Order members standing between Hermione and the Lestranges opened fire again, curses bouncing every way, and immediately Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange returned fire. Hermione ducked a stray curse and bit her lip, thinking. Remus needed to know about the dead constable -- but Bellatrix Lestrange clearly had murder and Muggle torture on her mind -- but Remus -- but Lestrange . . . the Muggles . . . and other things . . .

Lupin took priority, Hermione decided. This battle had turned disastrous, but once the Aurors arrived it would descend into an outright calamity. He needed the time to reformulate strategy. She turned and hurried as fast as she could back to the shelter behind the house, limping slightly.

Behind the house, Lupin stood over Laura Madley's prone body, conferring worriedly with Eleanor Branstone. "Remus," Hermione said, and he looked up at her. "Bellatrix Lestrange killed one of the Muggles. A constable."

She saw understanding and alarm flick behind his eyes, quickly replaced by his usual calm, competent demeanor. "And William Summers," Hermione added. "She killed Summers."

Beside Remus, Eleanor frowned, biting her lip, and knelt beside Laura.

"We'll have to retreat, then," Lupin said, worry wrinkling his brow. "We can't fight the Aurors. Not with the losses we've already suffered. Not with --"

Not with them looking for us, Hermione finished mentally. "I don't have to remind you that you were the one who wanted --"

"No, Hermione," he said, cutting her off. "You don't. I admit I wasn't expecting the force we met. These Death Eaters have been more persistent than usual."

"Because it's us. Voldemort wants us. Lucius Malfoy is probably out there under a mask right now --"

"No." Remus shook his head. "He's not. He wouldn't. Not for this." He paused. "We're going to have to figure out how to coordinate the retreat, or at least communicate that we plan to withdraw. A Sonorus Charm, perhaps --"

"What about the cleansing?" Hermione demanded. "That's what we came down here to prevent! We're just going to leave forty Muggles to fend for themselves against Death Eaters?"

"What would you have me do, Hermione? I've tried to protect them. We're outnumbered. We've already lost five people. There's nothing left. We'll have to pull back."

"Dumbledore wouldn't have retreated." It was out before Hermione realized she was thinking it.

The lines around Lupin's eyes went deep. "I have never claimed to be the wizard Albus Dumbledore was." He paused, frowning at Hermione. "We're pulling out. Find your team and get them out of here."

"We should at least fight until the Aurors arrive. Maybe we can hold them off --"

"No, Hermione. We can't. I'm sorry." He turned away as George Weasley and Mad-Eye Moody rounded the corner of the house, supporting Angelina Johnson between them. Angelina was bleeding heavily from a long cut in her abdomen. Hermione, never fond of the sight of blood, turned around.

There has to be something I can do, she thought. Something beside just giving up. We haven't fought like this just to give up. But I've already used my miracle for this fight. What can I do? We can't just abandon the Muggles. We can't just --

A loud crack echoing in the street snapped her out of her thoughts. Hermione heard shouts of "There they are!" and "Stop! Stop!" from the far end of the street and realized she was out of time: The Aurors had arrived.

Hermione ran around the side of the house in time to watch the street erupt into further chaos. Lupin's much-amplified voice called, "Retreat!" As Aurors started to fire curses at the mob at the end of the street, Order members turned and Apparated. A series of short snaps from behind her indicated that members of the Order were Apparating away with the dead and the injured. Find your team and get them out of here, Lupin had said. From her hiding place, she scanned the street for Angel and Spike. The crowd thinned and she spotted them on the other side of the street, fighting in slow motion. They appeared not to have any opponents.

She focused on Spike and Angel and Apparated across the street. Neither of them noticed her. Clever, she thought, and waved her wand at both of them. "Finite Incantatem!"

Angel and Spike snapped into real motion, finishing up their blows before looking around, confused. "Where'd the ruddy blighters go?" Spike asked, shaking his wrists.

"Impediment Jinx," Hermione said. "Neither of those two were any good in school. I'm guessing they realized they couldn't overpower you and decided to freeze you instead. Hold still. Close your eyes." Both Angel and Spike obediently shut their eyes, and she cast a quick Engorgement Charm on both of them. Both of them abruptly grew, swelling to the size of Hagrid.

Spike's eyes popped open. "Wait, what's --"

"Come on, I need your help," Hermione said briskly. She grabbed both the vampires by the hand and closed her eyes before starting the turn --

-- and the three of them reappeared in the street between the advancing Aurors and the escaping Order members. The stabbing pain behind Hermione's right eye reminded her that it wasn't wise to Apparate often after having suffered the Cruciatus Curse. She took a deep breath and screamed, "We want to parley! Hold your fire! We want to parley!"

"We do?" Spike muttered behind her.

"Hermione, what the hell are you doing?" Angel asked under his breath. She ignored both of them.

The Aurors did hold their fire. Some of them looked intimidated by the giants flanking Hermione. One Auror, Thomas Melville, stepped forward. He had joined the Auror Office after Lucius Malfoy became Minister for Magic. Hermione straightened her spine, drawing herself up. "You wish to parley?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "Miss Granger, you're suspected of breaking into Ministry property and assaulting Ministry personnel. You're the leader of a subversive movement, several members of which now stand accused of breaking the International Statute of Secrecy by brawling in front of Muggles. My Aurors can and should bring you in right now, and you wish to parley?"

Hermione leveled her chin. "I'm invoking the right to parley as outlined in the Wizarding Battle Code of 1302."

"It's 2004, in case you hadn't noticed, Miss Granger. I'm not sure anything drafted in 1302 is still in force today."

"It was enacted by the Wizarding Council when it met at Aylesbury in 1304. Aelgar Mowbray was chief of the Council at the time. Please name for me the legislation that rescinded the laws and codes enacted by the Wizarding Council?"

Melville scowled as if he didn't believe her, but he darted a glance at Angel and Spike and said, "All right. We'll parley. What do you want, Miss Granger?"

"I want you to leave the Muggles alone."

"Miss Granger, we have no interest in the Muggles except to modify their memories so they will forget this ever occurred."

"Save it," Hermione said. "Please. I know the Death Eaters had planned a purifying for tonight. I want you to leave the Muggles alone, and in return I'll keep Angel and Spike from breaking your arm."

"That's your deal? You'll keep them from breaking my arm? That's ridiculous, Miss Granger."

Hermione crossed her arms. "It's not ridiculous. Angel and Spike don't know how to do magic, you see. They'll break your arm the old-fashioned way. From what I hear, it hurts quite a bit."

Melville gave her a flat look. "No deal," he said.

Shrugging, Hermione said, "Angel?" He stepped forward, twelve feet tall and solidly built, and she watched Melville shrink.

"And if we do agree to a deal?" Melville asked.

"You call in the Obliviators, the Muggles forget, and you go away and leave them alone."

His eyes shifted sideways momentarily but soon returned to focus on her. "All right."

Hermione sucked in a breath and held it. It couldn't be this easy. Beside her, Spike shifted uncomfortably. She frowned, changing her grip on her wand, and then she raised her wand. "Flagrate Summa!" she said, drawing a line between herself and the Aurors. Flames roared up where her wand had pointed, forming a barrier between herself and the Aurors. She chanced a look over her shoulder and saw a gaggle of Death Eaters staring at her.

"Oh, Miss Granger," Melville said. "You really think that will help you? Gelatio Flamma!" The barrier of flames changed color slightly, going more yellow instead of the bright, angry red she had produced, and Melville stepped forward into them. "No deal," he said. "Take her and her friends," he added to the Aurors. "You're going to be in Azkaban so long, Miss Granger, your grandchildren will be serving life sentences."

Several of the Aurors charged. Hermione, eyes wide, grabbed at Spike and Angel, picturing Newcastle and hoping she didn't splinch them . . .

***

They landed in the front garden of the farmhouse outside Newcastle. The house itself blazed with light and Hermione could see people passing in front of the windows. Hermione dropped Spike and Angel's arms and said, "Finite." Both of them shrunk down to their normal size and she started to walk back to the house, when Angel said, "Hermione."

She half-turned, looking over her shoulder.

"We need to talk."

"Go ahead," she said, turning to face both of them.

He stepped forward, his posture tense and angry. "I played along back there, with the blowing up and the bluffing. Whatever that parleying was about, you needed the help. But don't use me like that again. I didn't come here for that."

"If you didn't come here to be used, then what did you come here for?" Hermione asked levelly.

"I came here to help," Angel said, gesturing forcefully. "I came here to do something right. I didn't come here to be pushed around like some sort of pawn or wheeled out to scare all your little magic friends. I'm not -- I'm more than that, Hermione. Next time you have something like that in mind, try talking to me about it first." He paused. "And don't cast another spell on me again without asking me first. I hate when people cast spells on me."

Hermione was silent for a moment. She'd have to apologize, she knew, but she couldn't do it right now. Angel scowled at her and then looked away.

"I just want to know," Spike piped up, "can that enlarging whatsit you did be used selectively, or does it have to be used all over like that? Cause I've got this --"

"Spike," Angel said.

"Or Angel. He's got this bird --"

"Spike," Angel said again, turning to scowl at him.

Spike blinked at him. "What? Just trying to do you a bit of a favor here, mate."

"Never mind," Angel muttered. Hermione had the sense that if there were a wall around, he would punch it. Instead, he strode off, his black coat billowing dramatically behind him. "I'm going to go patrol," he said, walking away from them. "Don't wait up for me."

"Going to go sulk, is more like it," Spike said. "But. He's got a point, love. Bit of warning might have been nice, right? Let people in on what you're thinking when you dream up these grandiose plans. I used to know someone like you once, you know. Always planning something. Always pushing everyone else around to fit the game of the moment."

"I suppose you're going to tell me she saw the error of her ways and stopped bossing everyone around and lived a much happier life."

Spike snorted. "Hardly. He still bosses people around. No, he was a right bastard named Angelus. You might know him. He calls himself Angel these days."

***

Hermione went back to the farmhouse, Spike tagging along loosely behind her, to find it much emptied of people. The front room was full of the injured, although most of the damage seemed to be relatively mild. The few Order members with any medical training, Molly Weasley among them, circulated through the room offering chocolate and first aid. Remus Lupin walked out of the kitchen, saw Hermione in the hall, and said, "You didn't retreat like I told you."

"No."

He walked closer to her. "What did you do? What was so important that you had to disobey orders?"

"I had to at least try to save the Muggles. I couldn't leave them without at least trying."

"What did you do?"

She looked at the floor, studying the way the wooden planks fit together. "I thought I could bluff the Aurors, scare them off. I made Angel and Spike look like giants and I told Melville I wanted to parley under the Wizarding Battle Code of 1302."

"Which doesn't exist."

"He didn't know that. Most people don't pay attention in History of Magic. I thought I had him, but . . ." She shook her head. "He didn't go for it."

Lupin's face hardened slightly, taking on the expression he got when he had to give a detention to some particularly obnoxious Slytherin. "Could we talk upstairs, please, Hermione?"

She might have been able to forestall Angel with silence, but it wouldn't work on Remus. "All right," she said.

The two of them retreated into the upper hall, standing near the bedroom doors. Lupin stood for a moment, staring at her sadly. "I'm disappointed, Hermione," he said. "That trick you tried with Thomas Melville was childish and irresponsible. You could have been killed -- and you could have gotten Angel and Spike killed."

"They agreed to come along --"

"They agreed to come along for a battle, not to be used as bait. I know Spike and Angel can handle themselves in a fight."

Hermione jutted out her bottom lip. "Umbridge --"

"Don't kid yourself, Hermione. You fooled Dolores Umbridge because she was stupid and greedy. Harry told me about that plan you thought up. You didn't know as much as you thought you did. You still don't. You're not infallible, Hermione."

She stared at the wallpaper. "I can't say I'm sorry," she said eventually.

"That's because you're not sorry. Not yet. Sleep on it, Hermione." He paused. "If you were anyone else, I'd tell you that you were barred from missions for a while. I can't do that. But if you do anything like that again, I'll drop you from the Order."

Hermione met his eyes. His concern was plain in them. "You could have been killed," he repeated. "It wasn't worth that. You might have been killed, and then where would we be?"

"Don't," she said. "Don't do that. You said you wouldn't."

"You should go lay down," Remus said, running a hand through his hair. "You need rest after the Cruciatus Curse. We've been taking the most severely wounded to Poppy, but there's not much she could do for you."

Hermione nodded. Every muscle ached when she moved and would for days.

"Don't go in the last bedroom. Our lost are in there. I'll go visit the families today."

She nodded again.

"I'm sorry," Remus said, and walked off, leaving her alone in the upstairs hall with her fury and her regrets.