Chapter Text
The sound of heeled boots on marble flooring echoed throughout the bustling hub of the Ministry, various witches and wizards turning to watch or scramble out of the way as the sound came closer, a few bowing their heads respectfully and murmuring “Madame Lestrange.” as she made her way to the elevators. Any remnants of the war in her appearance had been erased during the last few months, despite the rigorous training she had put herself through for her new position: Head of Magical Law Enforcement.
She’d almost fainted when the Dark Lord had bestowed the title upon her, no longer merely in charge of a few select wizards she now controlled the entire department of newly appointed Aurors and headed the operation to secure any remaining Order members, traitors, or others Minister Voldemort deemed necessary to apprehend. Her office was scattered with dozens of files with large red X’s through them, each one vital to their clean up effort of the magical world and time was ticking, Hogwarts was set to reopen in a few short months and the directive had been clear there was to be no remaining level 1 threats when that happened to ease the worry of parents sending their children off.
The elevator door closed behind her as she stepped into it, whizzing her off to meeting room 37, sending entire task forces to apprehend the threats one was taking too long she was reassigning priorities today, by her calculations they’d have at least a two week grace period to account for any delays and obstacles. Stepping into the meeting room, she scanned the faces of the almost 30 witches and wizards under her supervision some had been in the ranks, others had come forward to pledge their loyalty after the Battle and a select few were her purely under the ‘encouragement’ of the Imperius curse.
“An error in the Registration office caused us a week delay but I have our remaining priorities, there were a few thought to still be on the run but Snatchers failed to report capture and execution of. Each of you will be assigned one, pay -attention- to the designation of the threat, we don’t want another repeat of the Patil fiasco, Minister wanted the twins alive.” Her body twitched with remembrance of the curse she’d endured delivering the news to the Minister of the incompetence that had robbed him of potentially great Seers.
She passed out files, to each in the room some former Order members who had slipped through the cracks, Hogwarts Professors who had gone on the run and were required for the new school year and one, in a red folder that made her jaw clench. “Mudblood, why are they giving us a-“ She flipped open the folder and starred at the picture and the name. Her anger quickly morphing into amusment.
“Looks like I get to have a little reunion, Granger’s back from the dead. Now who was it that assured me she was drowned at the bottom of the Black Lake? No matter, if she’s still out there I’ll pay her a visit. She has something that belongs to me and I’d like it back.”
-
It was June. Hermione could just tell by suffocating heat. Beginning of the summer had always been an exciting time for the former Gryffindor.
It meant going home. It meant spending long evenings by the fire with Harry and the Weasley’s. It had meant, emphasis on the past tense, a break from the running. The fleeing. The fighting. Of course not counting the last two summers. When the war was very much reaching its turning point and none of them ever got any good rest.
Now June was nothing but a month of unbearable temperatures and mugginess. Hermione wanders into the kitchen. Once again attempting to turn on the tap in a newly finished muggle home that was just waiting for someone to close a deal. No running water or central air connected at all yet.
“Right.” She grumbles, rolling her eyes at her own stupidity. Not even being able to remember the last place she camped that had all of her essentials in one go.
The Battle of Hogwarts had lasted, what felt in the moment like years, in reality only a handful of hours. She replays it often in her head.
‘I’ll go with you..’
No. Stop it. Thinking like this only lead to one place.
She should have gone. Should have stayed true to all the promises to never let him do it alone. Maybe things would have been different that way.
‘Harry Potter is dead!’ Such somber news had never been delivered so gleefully. Hermione remembers the way her knees wanted to give out, but Ginny’s had beat her to it. She remembers holding the younger witch’s shoulders as she sobbed. Remembers staring at Harry, lifeless in Hagrid’s arms, praying to every god there ever was to let it be a scheme.
It hadn’t been.
Everything beyond that is just so blurry. Running. So much running. Screaming, from people she recognized, from people she wanted to save but couldn’t. People she had failed so miserably.
Her head fills with the images of Luna, struggling against a snatcher. Cho being dragged by her hair. George running, running, running to go protect Fred’s body.
Hermione’s blinks a few times, coming back to reality and moving to once again take inventory of what she had left.
The Weasley’s had offered her a place with them. It couldn’t be said that they hadn’t.
But Hermione couldn’t bring herself to accept. Losing Harry was hard enough to cope with. Harboring a mudblood was an offense worthy of death. Considering the Weasley’s weren’t in good standing with the new ‘Minister of Magic’ anyway it wasn’t a risk worth taking.
“Shit.” She mutters, realizing she’s running low on galleons which only means she’ll be low on everything else soon enough. Running through the very short list of people she knows who actually escaped (and are still are still alive) she settles on Dean. Who she knew had been doing some incredible underground work to help move muggleborns out of the country.
She hoped to be able to offer some sort of assistance in exchange for anything he could spare. Placing what few belongings she has back into her bag and giving the model home one quick look over to ensure nothing was out of place she apparates.
A timer beginning in her head as every time she used her wand she knew it was only moments before the ministry was alerted.
The second her feet hit the cobble stone, about three blocks from her final destination she pushed off the ground running.
Please for the love of Godric let Dean still be there.
-
Bellatrix had returned to her office after the meeting, tapping long nails against the red folder in front of her, it was thrilling, the high stakes runaways had been captured months ago; Kingsley had put up a fight, Aberforth hadn't uttered a word to even plead for his life, Sybill had been so desperate to live she'd agreed to teach under the watchful supervision of Headmaster Lestrange, and Rabastan had been given permission to keep her in line by any means necessary. None of them even held a candle to getting to hunt down Granger. The dark witch knew quite a bit about her, enough to know she was intelligent, she wouldn't just be hiding out in an abandoned house waiting to be found, hunting her would take precision and planning. If she still had the dagger she could have used a trace on the blood on it, but she had never been able to recover it, she was just considering other options when one of her secretaries rushed in, flushed and out of breath. "Madam Lestrange, the wand. It's been activated."
All of the registered wands of the criminal threats had had the trace placed back on them it had been amusing to watch full grown witches and wizards realize their capture had been in part caused by a charm used on school children to prevent underage magic. The younger ones had been smarter, most still were underage and had resorted to wandless magic and there--had been a black market of wands for a few short weeks before it had been dismantled.
Whether the wand being used belonged to Granger or was her own she didn't care and laughed out loud. "The bitch is really stupid enough to use a wand! Ready or not here I come!" She squealed in a high pitched voice. Before apparating off, she sent the Snatchers to follow to where the wand signature had originated from and lay in wait, in case the witch came back.
Hermione paused, next to some garbage bins to snap her wand and toss it in the bin. No time for a tearful goodbye when she knew they’d be tracing it. Lestrange‘s wand still buried deep in her undetectable extension charm bag. She hadn’t even looked at it since the battle. Maybe if she had been able to use her own wand in the battle she've fought better. Maybe they would have won that way.
The brunette takes off at light speed towards the small cluster of houses and into the joining alley. She tapped rhythmically on the cobble stones, continuously scanning for any signs or sounds of being chased.
With her last step the stones began to shift, parting to a small staircase which she quickly descended. Willing the rocks to move fast back into their rightful place. Once the last bit of natural light faded above her head she breathed a sigh of relief.
Stupid to use a wand, certainly. Necessary? Absolutely. It would have taken three days to have -safely- reached where Dean was operating. Three days was more than enough time for things to change. She couldn’t risk losing such a critical contact.
She would miss her wand though, only recovered while fleeing from the battle from the same snatcher who'd taken it, but being sentimental was too expensive now a days.
Mione rummages in her bag for the flashlight she knows is there. Fingertips brushing against the ornate handle of her most hated possession. She scoffs, once again thinking how she should pitch it off a bridge or bury it six feet down right along with the crooked wand. But she knows she won’t. She -can’t- for whatever idiotic reason.
She finally pulls the desired object from her bag. Flicking it on and following the limited path to a door. She holds her breath as she reaches up and knock, three short and two long, and waits.
The door creaks open and she’s greeted with a stunning charm. Hitting the ground hard. Dean creeks the door open a bit further to get a look at who he’s just hit. Gasping in surprise to see its Hermione on the ground.
“Blimey!” He exclaims pulling her inside and quickly shutting the door. Mumbling more concealment charms before he even reverses Hermione’s predicament.
“I’m so sorry.” He says crouching down and swiping blood from her lip and healing that too. “I thought you were an Auror.” So strange to be calling those monsters a title so previously coveted. “We had to change the password. I would have owled but Ron say it wouldn’t be of any use. That you’re only ever somewhere for a day or two. There was a security breech. You’re lucky to catch us. We’re in the process of moving things.”
Hermione shakes off his apology. It wasn’t necessary, she certainly couldn’t blame him. “No, no it’s alright. I would have done the same.” She swipes at her lip after its healed and her chest pangs at the mention of Ron. “He’s right. Last I even talked to him was near two weeks ago and I was with the Patil’s. He wouldn’t have been able to give you any idea of where I was. Security breach, what happened?”
Dean’s face falls as the twins are mentioned and Hermione’s knows without him saying. So he doesn’t.
“Seamus was caught bringing a couple muggleborn’s and their family to the border. We don’t know anything else so we’re just not risking it.” Hermione’s nods in agreement. Much better safe that sorry. “How did you even get here? Last I heard you were on the other side of wizarding London.”
Getting back onto her feet the witch won’t meet his eyes. “My wand,” Dean’s eyes widen in shock. “but I don’t have it on me I swear. Broke it and tossed it in a bin a few blocks back.” This relieves him slightly. Glad to have reinforced the concealment charms. “I’m sorry about your wand Hermione. I know it meant a lot. We have a couple of others you can chose from.”
She shrugs despite the tears stinging in her eyes; remembering getting the vine adorned wand with her parents in Diagon all that time ago.
“So, how can I help?”
-
An almost thunderous crack sounds across the cul-de-sac, any muggles in the houses attributing the sound to that storm they've been calling for all week, the few witches and wizards who lived there, cautiously peering through the curtains at the dark witch, calmly walking down the street. They couldn't track exactly where the wand had gone, especially given unbeknownst to her, that it lay in the bottom of a rubbish bin as useful as a chopstick but wands had a limited radius for apparating distances, and Granger wouldn't have used it if it wasn't to reach the farthest it extended, this was first stop on the map. Her dark eyes scanning the empty street, the houses. "Come out come out wherever you are" She called in that same sickeningly high pitched childish voice that made others blood run cold.
Even through the door and hidden rock entrance, the sound was heard and Dean froze in place, not daring to breathe or make a sound, grabbing the nearest parchment and scribbling out. "Did anyone see you arrive?" and handing it to Hermione, knowing Bellatrix would interrogate anyone she came across.
Bellatrix paused, ears pricked and listening for a sound frustrated that she'd lost the trace of the wand, usually it led her right to the person. Well then, she'd just have to get creative asking those who gave off magical signatures and convincing the muggles to answer her.
-
Hermione winced at that mocking voice she detests so much. The same voice that rings so clearly in her unceasing nightmares. She grabs the parchment scribbling furiously.
“I apparated blocks away ditched the wand in a bin. Ran all the way here but bumped into no one. Maybe seen from the houses. We have to leave.” She writes back. Watching the ceiling as if Bellatrix would simply sink through and appear right in her face.
Those reluctantly loyal merely locked their doors. They wouldn’t of course ignore if Bellatrix unfortunately chose them for interrogation but
wouldn’t offer themselves up without reason.
Those truly loyal staying in their windows.
As if this were a drill they'd run through a million times. Truthfully not many had seen Hermione running down the street, only heard which direction the commotion was moving.
But few had actually managed to steal a glimpse of Undesirable No. 1 sprinting down the path.
Dean brings his head to his hands before quickly giving a ‘wrap it up’ motion to the others in the room who had been looking to him expectantly. Witches and wizards quickly scrambling to gather anything of importance and mob towards the emergency passage.
Hermione felt so guilty, helping as she could, shoving documents and personals into her bag and pointing people in the direction of the exit. Dean hands her a spare wand which she immediately holsters in favour of carrying a no more than five year old to the front of the line, handing her off to someone there and going back for her sister. An eleven year old who had only received her letter the previous September and bring her up to the front as well. The poor girl hadn't even had the opportunity to attend a single class yet.
Hermione pants silently her heart beating so frantically inside her chest she wasn’t even sure it was beating at all any longer.
-
Bellatrix had no interest in wasting time, coercing answers from magical folks when muggles were stupid enough to give them upfront. She knocked on the first door that didn't give off a magical signature and pulled the photo from the folder out, managing to bring a few tears to surface and launching into a sob story for the muggle about how this was her sister, she'd run away from home and she desperately needed to find her. The old woman who'd answered the door pointed a few houses over, telling Bellatrix she'd seen someone who 'could be her' run that
direction not more than 20 minutes ago. Thanking the woman and heading that direction, Bellatrix smirked and wiped away her tears. Stupid muggles.
She'd nearly walked past the alley when she felt a surge of magic. As of there were 30 or more magical signatures in the -wall-.
Dean was rushing as fast as he could, carrying children, bags, falsified travel documents and passports, trying to keep tabs on Hermione and quieting the crowd. "Passage is a mile or two, keep going until you come out the other side." He instructed quietly, younger children knowing well enough keep quiet, to not cry or scream for family members in front or behind them.
-
Hermione ensures the children go first and kept her distance one they’d begun their journey. She wouldn’t be able to live with herself if they were taken merely because she was there with them.
Staying so far behind in fact she hadn’t even yet entered the passage herself. Scrambling around with Dean and passing bundles of documents to people as they stepped in. Suddenly the hair on the back of her neck stood on end. Bellatrix. Brown hues widen with terror, urging more people into the mouth of the passage.
“We have to seal it.” She breathes as quietly as the panic will let her manage. Dean nodding and hugging his family tightly before shooing them inside as well.
“You better get in there then.” He whispers back, attempting to shove her inside but Mione digs in her heels. “I’m not leaving you, I'll stay with you and I can’t go with them. They could be captured."
“Get your arse in and stop talking.” Dean growls not leaving much room for argument nor would time allow it. “I’ll see you on the other side. I promise.” With that he waves his wand and seals the passage off. The boy takes a shaky breath, whispering a few silencing spells were the door had been, sending a prayer to Merlin, and instructing the few adults left to scatter across the space and pretend to be occupied, but have their wands at the ready.
-
Bellatrix walked right up to the wall, boots crunching on the gravel and ran her fingers over the stones. “I’m only here for the mudblood, give her to me or you’ll be sentenced for harbouring an Undesirable.” She spoke to the wall, pulling out her wand and -wordlessly- casting Bombarda Maxima, watching in satisfaction as the wall blew apart in front of her.
Stepping through the new entranceway, waving away the dust from her face. “I know you’re here Mudblood, do you really want more of your friends to die protecting you?” She cooed into the darkness. Her wand was out but she cast no other spells. “Aren’t you tired of growing your body counts? All those lives, all that blood spilt because of you.” She continued, her voice echoing in the small space.
-
Hermione’s could still hear her, the entire group flinching as the echoing ‘boom’ filled the tunnel. Bellatrix was taunting her with realities she struggled to face every day since the war had ended.
People had died because of her. Lavender, Colin, Seamus, Padma and Parvati, Harry and so many more.
She had to swallow the bubble of panic sitting in her throat, gently encouraging the group to go on and willing herself not to listen to the dark witch.
With Bellatrix now right outside the door to their hideaway Dean had to open it. If he didn’t it would just be blown to bits anyway. If he didn’t it risked them all being murdered on the spot for being defiant.
The door creaks on its hinges as Dean opens it with his wand. His brow furrowed into a scowl as he faces off with the woman of everyone’s nightmares.
“She’s not here Lestrange, haven’t seen her since the war.”
He insists as the rest of the group watches on from various parts of the room, wands tightly in hand.
“Raid the place, I’ve nothing to lose. You won’t find her.” Or anything too important, but that certainly wouldn’t stop Bellatrix from finding -something- to haul them in for if she didn't have her way. If Bellatrix was alone, Dean doubted she would be for long. They could fight back against just her, for a time, buying time for everyone else but sealing their own fates. Which he hopes everyone in the room was willing to do with family and friends in the passage.
-
When the door creaked open, she was annoyed that it wasn’t Granger’s face in front of her. Listening to Dean lie to her face though made her smirk. “Oh well now that’s not true, witnesses say they saw her run in here twenty minutes ago. Want to see Finnigan again? Tell me where she is. Simple.” She paused, watching the realization cross Dean’s face and she grinned.
“Oh no, he’s not dead. The minister thought he’d be of some use, I can take you to him. All you have to give up is a little useless mudblood.” She stood waiting for Dean to think it over wandering the room instead. Bellatrix was trying to piece together the puzzle, she’d detected more than thirty signatures and less than dozen were in this room, circling it, dragging her fingernails against the walls, watching for any kind of reaction to what she was doing. “Bit of a dark place for a club meeting isn’t it? Behind a stone wall, middle of a neighbourhood. Here to play chess?” She asked, leaning her back against the wall where the passage had been a moment ago.
-
Dean, and many others, didn’t flinch as Bellatrix scrapped her fingernail across the stone wall. Wasn't that uncomfortable? It made a horrid sound. One however, in the very corner, flinched very slightly as she pressed her back against the once entrance.
Hermione could hear everything. Her stomach knotting and causing her to feel deathly ill. She pushes the remainder of the group in front of her and begins to head back. She wasn't going to leave him alone to fend for himself like she had Harry. This time she'd stay. Even if it meant her own capture.
The last person in line grabs her forearm roughly in alarm, shaking their head and attempting to tug the witch along with them. Hermione just shakes her head, pressing one finger to her lips and then pointing down the passage. A silent ‘keep going’. She then removed the man’s hand from her arm and continues back. Alternating between watching the entrance and looking back, silently willing them all to just get around the first bend.
“It’s better than being around any of you lot.” Dean spits, trying to think out a way to get to Seamus without giving up Hermione. His resolve to only protect his fellow Gryffindor disappearing as he thinks of Seamus, how scared he must be wherever he's locked away.
“She really didn’t come this way.” He lies again, grip tightening on his wand. “I don’t know what people saw but it isn’t what they think it was.“ Only Gryffindor’s can say such things with their whole chest. When they know it’s a lie, and a weak one at that.
But his family is in that tunnel. He can’t give it up.
“Have we done anything wrong or are you just going to spend the night to try and prove a nonexistent point?”
-
Bella caught the slight flinch, she'd been watching for any kind of reaction. A passageway was the only explanation for the missing magical signatures and missing mudblood.
"Funny thing, your club seemed much /larger/ before. My wand picked up no less than 40 magical signatures from here, curiously there's only ten of you here. I'm willing to bet that if I blew up this wall here, I'd find those missing people. But now, I'm a reasonable witch, I'm only here for one person, so if there are say 20 other mudbloods and halfbloods in a tunnel..I could overlook that for your cooperation in apprehending Hermione Granger. Or...I can apprehend all 40 of you, execute the mudbloods and charge the rest of you with treason. Your choice really." She inspected her nails casually, letting the options hang in the air.
-
Dean goes silent as the rest of the room gasps as a collective. This just isn't worth it. He can't risk the rest of them being turned in for slaughter for the failed Golden Girl. He once again sends a prayer Merlin’s way. May the founders above, and Hermione, forgive him.
“No. Stop it, alright. She's behind you. I'll open the passage.” He points his wand Bellatrix’ way, aiming behind her and waves it the stones beginning to shift.
Hermione felt her breath catch and heart stop. This..this was a joke, wasn’t it? Surely he didn’t. Dean -wouldn’t—but her thoughts are quickly silenced by Dean yelling louder than she's ever heard.
The moment there’s enough space for his voice to be heard down the entirely of the tunnel he screams.
“GO.” Suddenly the unmistakable crack of apparition sounding all around, even from deeper within the tunnel, echoing off the walls in a deafening way. Hermione immediately crouches and covers her ears.
W-What? What was happening? The panicked shrieks and children’s cries disappear at an alarming rate and Hermione’s left fumbling for the holstered wand at her hip.
She didn’t know where they were going but surely she could go somewhere else, anywhere else.
The sound of a baby wailing behind her has her stopping in her tracks. Head snapping in that direction as the smoke clears.
“Go!” She shrieks, as a small group of left behinds show empty hands. They don't have wands.
“No, no, no..” This isn’t real this wasn’t happening.
Head turns back and she gets her very first glimpse at the woman she’d been running from since that night in Malfoy Manor. Tears of defeat immediately well as she glances behind her. The baby still screaming.
Damn it.
She flings her wand in their direction, too far away for any hope of reaching them before they apparate. “Go!” She insists and the moment the singular adult has the wand in hand, the group is gone. The final crack of apparition causes her ears to ring as she stands up properly, resolve hardening and the tears that had just threatening to fall are absolutely nonexistent.
A shaky breath sounds in the silence as she grips the strap of her bag as if it were the only thing grounding her.
Her jaw wobbles but voice stays strong as she clears her throat.
“Bellatrix Lestrange.”
Fuck.