Desperate Measures

"My poor dear, what have we got you into?" Dumbledore said sadly, surveying Hermione's robes, wondering if she was cold.

"You didn't get me into anything," Hermione replied. "I did it of my own accord." Hermione didn't see why Dumbledore was getting into the small talk. Did he have something important to say? Or was he having second thoughts about putting her out among hardened killers? It was too late. she was already involved. To leave now would lead to her death.

"Loyalty is an admirable quality at the best of times, but with bravery, it makes the person rash. Beware it doesn't become the end of you." Dumbledore felt he had to warn her. She would be leaving the Death Eater's hideout in the next day. She had to make her exit believable.

"You mean it makes people stupid?"

"Makes them act stupid Hermione."

"Yes, Professor. Can you say what you got to say? I'm supposed to be helping my 'grandmother' out of the bath."

Dumbledore smiled fondly at the young woman, and turned, to the phoenix on his shoulder, he held out his finger in motion for the bird to step onto his finger, and then be moved onto a perch Tonks had transfigured for him when he had entered the room. He didn't like the pause while he tried to find the words to tell Miss Granger that the Aurors would be attacking tonight, but making his pet comfortable was a good excuse as any to avoid her for the moment. He faced her again, and said:

"You went to Voldemort today." Hermione's face fell as she recalled the tension a few hours ago. She was surprised how news had travelled that fast.

"I did."

"And?"

"He is an insufferable, intolerant idiot who needs to relearn his legilimency skills, and isn't as scary as he thinks he is."

"Did your fear of him and the consequences of being found out nearly affect your occlumens?"

"I thought it did. It felt like my mind was being violated. I felt like I was naked in front of him."

"In those robes, its no wonder," Tonks piped up cheekily as she entered the room. She was back to her original looks, in black robes, ready to make the attack on the house.

"He was trying to break into my mind. My robes had been lengthened. Malfoy said I couldn't go otherwise."

"Anyway, stop digressing Miss Granger! He spared you. Then what happened?"

"He sent us out, and asked to speak to Malfoy about Ron. I tried to hear what they said, but I only heard 'Under the house'."

"That's very strange," mused Dumbledore. Harry had a dream about a house that was quite new, but appeared to have an older basement. Would you know anything about it Hermione?"

"The house where we are staying at is exactly the same."

"Do you think that Ronald is under there?"

"I don't know. I've never been down there. There are no cellar steps. I never thought about it, that they would be so blatant - or so stupid!"

"Does that mean that we attack the house tonight, and look to see if Ron is there?" asked Tonks. She too, was concerned. She didn't know whether he would still be alive when they got there. Death Eaters didn't exactly beat around the bush....

***

"When we attack tonight Hermione, you will leave their abode." Dumbledore commanded. There was going to be no arguments about it. She would not serve them anymore. He hoped that it would be all over tonight and that young Ronald would still be alive.

"How will I do that without them realising who I am, and coming after me and killing me?" Hermione started to appreciate the severity of her position in the Death Eater's house. She did start to wish that she had never done this. Before, there had been no reservations. It was all about Ron and his safe return. Now what about her? Was she going to sacrifice her life for him? Could she? Dare she? Hermione thought about whether Ron or Harry would do the same for her, without a doubt. They would die for her, and she would be prepared to do the same for them. It was time to be strong and stop thinking negative thoughts of dying. And she was going to show those poor misguided fools that appearances were deceptive.

"We're going to fake your death," Dumbledore delivered that line in a matter-of-fact way, as if he was telling her that they must adjourn to make a cup of tea.

Hermione's mind was left staggering. She must have run many possible, crazy, mad, dangerous scenarios through her head before Dumbledore went to snap his fingers in front of her face to gain her attention.

"How will you kill me?" Hermione questioned with a noticeable shake in her voice. She was trying to be brave and professional about it. She never wanted to be an Auror, and this experience was certainly not going to change her mind.

Tonks stopped busying around the room and sat on the sofa next to Hermione trying to reassure her. Dumbledore didn't seem to have the woman's touch on it. "Come on," she said. "You are a bright witch. You should be able to figure it out that they aren't going to kill you."

"I know that!" Hermione snapped irritably at Tonks' misinterpretation of her worries. "I'm just worried in case they throw an 'Avada Kedavra' at me, and I'm supposed to dodge it or something."

"Certainly not!" Dumbledore exclaimed in horror. "Aurors have special permission to use Avada Kedavra in the most dire of circumstances, but the timing for a dangerous stunt like that could have disastrous consequences. We would be using a variation on the killing curse. Something that distorts it like a regional accent, for example, saying Averda Kedavra instead. It would produce the green light, but may not even be strong enough to knock you to the floor."

Hermione then cottoned on. "Like when we were in the department of mysteries in the fifth year, and Neville couldn't stupefy anyone because he was saying 'Stubefy' instead through his broken nose?" Hermione was surprised that she had remembered that. Neville had been telling her about it in the hospital wing, and his frustration that the spell hadn't worked.

"Exactly. The Death Eaters that are still conscious wouldn't tell the difference. You could try and place a killing curse on us, and we would be within our rights to retaliate."

"But they reckon I'm not a talented witch," argued Hermione. "They think that I'm stupid, too stupid to be able to do the flipping killing curse of all things!"

"Hmmm." Dumbledore stood up from the armchair he had sat in, and started to pace around the living room broodingly. "They will most certainly try and throw a killing curse at us. If you can stay close to anyone who casts the killing curse, or seems most likely to, we can retaliate and have a bad aim. How good are your swooning acting skills?" He asked jokingly, grinning at the idea of Hermione over-dramatically falling to the floor; a dying swan routine. Hermione smiled weakly.

"I had a few drama lessons before I went to Hogwarts. My parents thought that I wasn't interacting properly with the other children, because I was reading all the time. They signed me up for classes to bring me out of my shell. If I see fit, I can throw myself on the floor and not hurt myself too badly, I can think on my feet, and I've almost perfected this accent where I'm a German phasing out her accent after living so long in England with the Death Eaters. I didn't want them to recognise my voice. I think I'll be able to do this. Will you be attacking Albus?"

"Yes, I will. The Death Eaters will need to be taken over as soon as possible, so that they are all out of action, and we can get to Ronald as quick as possible. We are the diversion. Harry will be there to get him without them noticing. I won't have Harry fighting."

"Ok. We'll do it tonight," Hermione confirmed. "Are you sure we'll be safe, and Voldemort won't turn up and kill us all?" Hermione asked, not without a touch of uncertainty, she could say it was quite high up on her stress factors.

"I can't be certain, and I won't promise you anything. All I can try to do is reassure you that it is mine, and every Auror's intention who are raiding the house tonight, that no lives should be lost."

"Right then," Hermione's voice had a renewed determination to it. "We'll do it tonight."