Although Pansy lived in the dungeons just like Hermione and Harry did, the Slytherin had never visited them before. Hermione felt her heart sink, although she told herself it didn't necessarily bode ill.
Exchanging a look with Harry, Hermione gave Pansy permission to enter and watched her step nervously inside. It didn't seem to help that she was bearding Gryffindors in what was traditionally Slytherin's domain; the look she shot at Ginny indicated quite clearly that she was one Gryffindor too many, and Ginny politely rose and made her excuses.
Once the door re-formed behind Ginny, Hermione smiled at Pansy and spoke cordially, hoping to put her at ease. "How can we assist?"
"Draco and I have rounds tonight."
Harry and Hermione exchanged looks; they were both pretty sure they knew what was coming, but they played along.
"Is there a reason this salutary plan can't proceed?" Hermione asked.
"Draco still isn't back." Pansy had spoken more or less neutrally, but there was a slight edge to her voice that betrayed her worry.
"He didn't indicate that he might be late?" Harry questioned.
The blonde girl shook her head. "We had spoken about meeting on the train, but that was casually; I figured he was avoiding having to patrol the compartments with me."
"Only now he's still not back, and you no longer think that's why he was late," Hermione inferred.
Pansy nodded. "There were professors and other Prefects on the train for patrols; Apparating straight to Hogsmeade would obviously be his preference. But he knew that we have rounds tonight, and he counts that as a real responsibility. I reminded him last week, and he said he was looking forward to them. Sarcastically," she added, as though they might have missed that bit.
"We have heard of sarcasm," Hermione said dryly, and Pansy shot her a look. But honestly, they were Gryffindors, not mental incompetents.
"Have you told the headmaster?" Harry asked.
Another look was shot Harry's way.
"He needs to be informed," Harry said defensively.
Hermione nodded her agreement. "It's the headmaster who's responsible for students during term time. If Draco's not here when he's supposed to be and Albus hasn't been informed as to why, then he has the right to determine what has happened. We need to make sure that Draco hasn't told the headmaster that he's been delayed. He could still arrive for classes tomorrow."
Hermione was sure that none of them thought this was likely, but Pansy finally gave in to the inevitable, and the three of them made their way up from the dungeons.
There was nothing like instant problems to make it seem as though there had never been a holiday.
Hermione cast her best set of privacy charms around them so that they could speak freely, and Pansy looked reluctantly impressed.
"Can you identify any unusual behaviour over the break?" Hermione asked.
The Slytherin's gaze narrowed.
"We're trying to establish what's happened to Malfoy, Parkinson," Hermione said firmly.
Whatever the other girl was looking for, she seemed to find it.
"I only saw him once," she answered. "He was quiet, spending a lot of time at home, but that's rather typical of a Malfoy holiday; his mother likes him to be in attendance. We corresponded regularly—and all the letters were written by him, if that's what you're going to ask next. I know how to check."
"I know how, too," Hermione said, in case Pansy thought it was just a Slytherin trait. "No indication that he was being forced to write the letters?"
They all knew what she was really trying to ask, and Hermione was mildly surprised that Pansy didn't take more offence.
She shrugged. "It didn't seem that way to me."
Hermione wasn't sure if Harry was staying quiet because he assumed that Pansy would think he did not care what happened to Draco or if it was because he was worried that he would give himself away if he opened his mouth. Whatever the reason, it had apparently fallen to her to carry on the conversation.
"So despite the fact that he appeared to be acting of his own volition over the holidays, you are concerned that that's no longer the case?"
Pansy frowned. "If it was a voluntary decision not to come back to Hogwarts, he would have said so." Her chin came up, and she gazed at them defiantly. "He would have let me know."
"We're not disputing what Malfoy would or wouldn't tell you. You're in a much better position to know than we are," Hermione said soothingly. "If you say there's a problem, then we think so, too. That's why we're going to the headmaster."
Pansy was somewhat mollified by this pronouncement, and they were able to peaceably take the revolving staircase up to the headmaster's office. As always, it seemed as though he had been expecting them, and they refused tea and lemon drops as they took their seats. He inquired what had brought them.
They explained the problem. The twinkle diminished in his eyes, but he remained outwardly calm.
"Since I have received no notice that Mr Malfoy will be late, I will send a reminder of the date and time that classes resume. Although it is unusual for a student not to return by Sunday evening, it is not unheard of. Mr Malfoy is an adult, and until he misses class, there is very little that I may do."
If the looks on their faces were anything to go by, none of them were particularly happy with this, but they had all known that the likelihood of Albus announcing that he was instantly going to storm Malfoy Manor to get Draco back were slim.
The headmaster continued, "I will confirm with Minerva and Severus that they have not heard from Mr Malfoy, as he may have sent a letter to his Head of House or my deputy. Do not worry, Miss Parkinson; Mr Malfoy will be found."
This was probably true, but Hermione was pretty sure that what was worrying them was all the unpleasant ways in which that could happen.
They rode the staircase back down to the corridor and began their rounds, Harry trailing about a step behind them and still not making an effort to speak. Hermione cast privacy charms once more.
"That wasn't the most inspiring conversation I've ever had," Pansy observed dryly.
"But it's begun the official process," Hermione pointed out, although she didn't disagree with the other girl. "That could be important later. I assume you've owled him?"
She nodded. "I sent a letter right after dinner when I saw that he still wasn't here. I can't help thinking that a response isn't coming."
Hermione rather agreed. If Voldemort was involved, as they all suspected no matter what they were saying out loud, he had decided that he wanted them all to know Draco was missing. Otherwise, a letter would already have arrived informing the headmaster that Draco had been delayed.
"He may respond to the headmaster," Hermione said, although the doubt was clear in her voice. It was probably that which saved her another scathing look from the Slytherin.
They sent a number of students scurrying back to their dorms, the children clearly puzzled by this configuration of students making rounds.
"Apparently we need to shake up the Prefect partners more frequently," Harry observed, perhaps thinking it was safe to speak about a topic that didn't directly involve Draco. "It seems to be scaring them into obedience."
"It is refreshing that the shock has prevented the normal excuses from tripping off their tongues," Pansy agreed. "That's not to say," she added cuttingly, "that I'm dying to do rounds with Gryffindors."
"I'm sure you'll manage to do it occasionally," Hermione suggested, "if it helps the school."
Pansy shrugged. "I don't make the rules."
They kept at it until half ten, as there seemed to be a large number of students who'd "forgotten" that there was a curfew which they had to obey. Those who had the sense to go to bed once they reached their dorms would be thankful when they had to get up at half seven or earlier to make it to breakfast on time; there were better times for socialization than the night before classes restarted.
"You were moderately more helpful than I anticipated," Pansy admitted grudgingly as they stopped at the end of the corridor that led to the Slytherin common room.
"Malfoy's a student at this school," Hermione explained simply. "We take our positions seriously, and that makes the safety of all students our concern."
Not to mention that Harry was secretly in love with the blond boy, and they all knew that it was probably Voldemort who was causing the problem. Pansy understood at least half of what Hermione wasn't saying.
The Slytherin girl nodded. "I'll let you know if he writes tomorrow."
Once she'd made it safely into her common room, Hermione and Harry headed back to their own quarters.
"Dammit, Hermione," Harry said as soon as they were inside, "why Draco?"
"Unfortunately, he's almost as involved with Voldemort as you are," she said with a sigh as she sat down on the couch. "But we don't know what's happened yet, Harry, so calm down. There's nothing we can do right now."
He'd started pacing, and she had the feeling that stopping and calming down weren't anywhere on the list of activities he had planned for the rest of the evening.
"What if he's in trouble?" Harry demanded, still whipping back and forth across the room.
"Then as soon as we have a viable means to assist him, we will do so," she said soothingly. He opened his mouth to protest, and she continued, "There isn't a castle for us to storm to get him back, Harry." She hesitated for a moment but decided it really had to be said. "And if he's there voluntarily, there's nothing we can do."
Harry's shoulders slumped, and he collapsed onto the opposite end of the couch from her.
"What if he is, Hermione?" Harry demanded, sounding utterly dejected. "What if this is the end?"
"Then there's still plenty of time for us to buy lots of cats," she said since she didn't have a real answer that was any better.
He snorted, but his eyes were suspiciously bright. "Have I mentioned recently that it sucks to be me?"
"You've been very circumspect on the subject."
He grimaced. "Some days I want to run away and never look back."
"I know the feeling, sweetie," she agreed. "But Voldemort's never made this sort of move on a student before, so we might be jumping to conclusions."
It was vaguely possible.
He sighed. "I guess."
"What say you climb into your pyjamas, and we'll read a story before bed?" she suggested in her best adult voice.
He looked at her incredulously. "When did you become my mother?"
"I've recently decided that you need more looking after," she said in a lofty tone. "I realized that we were policing all the rest of the students, but you were being horribly left out."
"What about you?" he demanded.
"I'm much older," she said loftily from her Time-Turner advantage. "Go on with you."
He allowed himself to be persuaded; if he couldn't get news about Draco, he wanted to be distracted. They spent several hours on his Animagi book with her adding pointers and tips that she almost managed to make sound like general advice, although she was sure that he had already guessed the truth and was just politely letting her keep her secrets for now. They then moved on to the sympathetic magic book that Remus had given them. It talked a great deal about this sort of bond forming between really close lovers, so they had to keep glossing over bits.
"I think we need to write the author," Harry said finally in disgust when they got to the bit about sympathetic magic during sex. "Let him know that there are other possibilities. I'm feeling marginalized."
She snorted. "Yes, we'll tell him that he needs to consider the position of Pure Adults much more carefully."
Harry smiled brightly, suggesting ingeniously, "We can make the letter anonymous so no one will ever guess it's from us."
Hermione laughed. "Good of you to have put so much thought into that part."
They did a second set of rounds, thankfully finding fewer students, and Hermione finally persuaded Harry to turn in, pointing out that the morning would come faster the sooner he went to sleep.
"We'll find out more then, Harry. There's nothing more you can do right now."
Short of hunting down Voldemort and putting a period to his existence, anyway, and she really didn't think she should suggest that.
She was tempted to go back out to the Forest, since she hadn't been out in unicorn form in several days, but she had a feeling that this was going to be a bad night for Harry.
Such proved to be the case, as she was roused at half one by his distress. It turned out to be a nightmare rather than a vision, no doubt brought on by all his concern for Draco. She managed to get Harry calmed without waking him, which she was very pleased about as it meant he now had a good chance of sleeping through the night; if he'd woken, she was sure that he would have sat up and got progressively more worried about the absent Slytherin.
Morning arrived with Hermione managing to catch a few hours of sleep herself. Fawkes confirmed that no letters from Draco Malfoy had been delivered to Albus, Severus, or Minerva. There was no news of any untoward Death Eater-related events, so there was a chance that this was really just a show of power on Voldemort's part, a demonstration that he had control of the students whom Albus thought of as being under his protection.
Hermione let Harry sleep until they were almost late for breakfast so that he'd only have time to rush to get ready rather than to get even more worked up over Draco. At breakfast, Pansy gave them a discreet shake of her head. No letters to her, either.
Harry's expression grew positively grim, but fortunately, the surrounding Gryffindors took this as a sign that he recalled that the first class of term was Potions.
There was nothing in the Prophet headlines to alarm them, not even an attempt to revive the Pure Adult topic; apparently, it wasn't currently sensational enough to pique the newspaper's interest.
She and Harry had considered the possibility that Pansy had been sent to ensure that they informed Albus of Draco's disappearance. As far as Hermione could judge, however, Pansy was genuine in her worry. Hermione hoped for Draco's sake that he had at least one friend who was actually worried for him rather than following a Death Eater script.
Potions was not a terribly good class, as Severus was not pleased by the absence of his star Slytherin pupil. She knew that he was also worried because he hadn't been informed of Draco's absence. Assuming Voldemort was responsible for the disappearance, did this mean that he did not trust Severus? Was it a private task for the younger Malfoy? Was it supposed to be a surprise for the Slytherin Head of House? If so, a good one or a bad one?
It was nerve-wracking from Hermione's point of view, and she was only thinking all these questions on Severus's behalf, not living them.
Everyone was on edge, and since that included the Potions master, it made for an unpleasant learning environment. He was even snippier than a first class of term tended to warrant, and everyone kept their heads down and their comments to themselves until the three hours had finally elapsed and they were able to escape with their shredded dignity. Nothing had been good enough for the man today—including Hermione's perfect potion—but she hadn't really minded being a target for his ire when she strongly suspected it was an outlet for his concern for his godson. It was better than him being a prat for no reason, anyway.
Lunch brought the news, relayed to her and Harry through Fawkes, that Tonks had received a letter from her Aunt Narcissa. Given that Andromeda Tonks had been disinherited and was completely estranged from the rest of the Black family—and her daughter therefore not even acknowledged—this was a very unusual occurrence.
Without giving any details, Narcissa Malfoy explained that she had a rather delicate family matter than she needed some assistance in regulating; since she would prefer to keep it in the family, as it were, she was calling upon Tonks.
They all agreed it could be a trap. But it also wasn't beyond the realm of possibility that Draco's mother really was concerned about him. Hermione remembered all the care packages that he had received in first year and the fact that it was apparently his mother's desire to have him close that had prevented Lucius Malfoy from sending the boy to Durmstrang. Trap or not, none of them doubted this related to Draco's disappearance.
Tonks and Albus had agreed that at this juncture, it would be wiser not to involve the Ministry in an official capacity. Tonks's business with the Malfoys now happily coincided with the headmaster's; his official inquiry into the absence of Draco from the school would be made with his deputy headmistress and with Draco's Head of House, and now a fourth faculty member would happen to go along as well.
Hermione and Harry were there to see them off immediately after class that evening. The departing professors didn't seem to know quite what to make of the two Gryffindors' presence since the students hadn't been informed of what was going on by any human tongue. The two of them bid their professors quiet farewells since there wasn't really anything else to be said, especially out in the open, no doubt leaving the older adults to wonder whether or not it was a coincidence that they had appeared just then. Fawkes was perched upon Albus's shoulder, good protection when heading off into a possible trap, and Hermione was pretty sure that he winked at them.
Keep safe, Hermione admonished.
Try not to have any adventures while I'm gone.
Hermione and Harry exchanged glances.
We've got nothing planned, Harry answered, but that doesn't seem to mean much of anything.
They would all do what they had to do and try to do it quietly and efficiently, but that rarely seemed to work out. Still, Hermione was sure that it was safer for Harry to remain here, and she was glad that he hadn't made any attempt to insist that he go with their professors—or sneak after them.
Filius and Pomona had been left in charge, and both looked grim enough at dinner that nobody asked loud enough to be overheard where the missing professors had gone. It would no doubt get out eventually, but dinner was curiously quiet. The seventh-years' initial detention had been cancelled due to the sudden absence of professors—although Harry had suggested that it was Severus who had refused to let them suffer even one night without him there to watch. Hermione had wanted to disagree but had decided it was wiser to hold her tongue.
After dinner, Hermione walked purposely over to the Slytherin table and audibly told Pansy that she and Harry needed to discuss her Prefect schedule. In the safety of an empty and warded classroom, she informed the worried girl that the professors had gone, as it were, on a rescue mission.
Pansy nodded, looking a cross between relieved that firm action was being taken and more worried because such action had been necessary. "I hope he's all right."
"We all do," Hermione agreed. "Will you keep your ears open in the Slytherin common room?"
It was tantamount to asking the girl to spy on her housemates, but Pansy was evidently worried enough that all she did was nod before hurrying away distractedly.
Hermione got Harry down to their common room so that they could ostensibly do homework. Since Severus had been so brutal in class, there was plenty for them to do in Potions, and Filius had given them a more moderate amount in Charms. By dint of asking every five minutes how Harry was progressing and haranguing him if he wasn't, she managed to get him to work a little.
She tried not to comment when she noticed that he had begun to rub his scar with increasing frequency; he didn't appear to be aware of what he was doing. If it wasn't her imagination, the scar was growing angrier-looking, and she didn't think it was from Harry's touching it. When the motion became close to constant, she broke down.
"Scar bothering you?" she asked gently.
His eyes flew to hers, and it was only then that he seemed to become aware of his hand and snatched it away from the mark on his skin. His eyes were wide and fearful.
"It started to prickle. Something's happening, Hermione."
It was as though they were badly tuned in to a station on the telly. They could almost see when important events were occurring, but they couldn't hear the sound or really make out the picture. Realistically, it would be less frustrating to just turn the damn thing off, but since they had a bit of the signal, they just kept watching anyway, hoping for things to become clearer.
"Albus, Minerva, Tonks, and Severus have gone," she pointed out soothingly. "They'll be doing everything in their power to get Draco back. Voldemort could be upset about that."
Harry shook his head. "I'm sure he's anticipated that. This is something else."
She suspected he was right, but they only needed one really negative person in the room right now.
"Keep going with your Potions essay," she instructed. "If it gets any clearer, you'll know."
Reluctantly, he turned his attention back to the page in front of him, and she watched as his eyes didn't move and he evidently read the same sentence over and over again and didn't write a single word down on his piece of parchment. She didn't have the heart to prod him any further. He was very pale.
Suddenly, he let out a pained exclamation and slapped his palm to his forehead.
"He's really pissed off," Harry ground out through clenched teeth. "Stupid bloody bastard. I should at least be able to see what he's doing."
If they'd been allowed to pick how this connection worked, Harry wouldn't have gone through any of the crap he had in the past several years. She got him a Pain-Relieving Potion from her stores, as she had had the sense not to deliver all she had made to Poppy, and he downed it quickly, not even grimacing at the taste. It was good these ones weren't addictive.
"Something definitely hasn't gone according to plan," Harry muttered. "I can almost see—"
She reached across the couch to clench his hand in a hard grasp, nails digging into his skin and snapping his eyes to her face so that he really looked at her.
"Don't you dare," she said sternly. "If you lower your shields, he could get into your mind, and there is too much that you can't tell him." She didn't let him look away. "You can't."
Harry tore his arm out of her grasp. "I know that," he snapped. "Don't you think I know I can't!" He let out a sharp exhalation and spoke pleadingly: "I want to help him, Hermione."
"I know you do," she said softly. "But that's not the way to do it. There's nothing we can do to help right now."
Quite suddenly, however, news arrived from an unexpected quarter.
A pack of werewolves invades the Forest. It was Castina, and she sounded angry. We found cages at the Forest's edge. They are now hunting.
Hermione's blood ran cold. Something in particular?
Yes, Castina confirmed. Someone injured was left deeper in the Forest; it looks as though the werewolves will drive him towards the grounds.
To be found when he's torn to pieces?
Castina didn't word her response, but it was an affirmative; it didn't take a genius to work out the evident plan.
"He's happy again," Harry gasped out. "I don't understand what's changed, but he's pleased." Harry winced. "It's to do with Draco, but I … can't … see," he trailed off, clearly trying to milk every emotion and thought out of the link without compromising his mind.
Oh, bugger. It didn't take very many guesses to work out who'd just been dumped in the Forest for the staff and students of Hogwarts to find. She sighed.
"He's in the Forest," she announced.
Harry blinked at her. "I'm sorry?"
"Draco's in the Forest. He's been dumped there, injured, and a pack of werewolves set loose."
Harry gaped at her for a good three seconds before he found his voice and demanded, "How can you possibly know that?"
"I don't think now is really the time to discuss it," she said firmly. "We need to get out there and rescue him."
It seemed to take a moment for this to process but then Harry leapt to his feet.
"What are we waiting for? Let's go!"
She had to transfigure his clothes into appropriate winter gear as he nearly sprinted for the door, and she had to literally grab hold of him and drag him towards the secret entrance when he headed in the direction of the main door.
"Hey! What—?" he demanded.
"We don't have time to argue about this, so you're going to shut up, and you're going to follow me. I'm in charge, get it?"
He got it, thankfully, although it might just have been stunned amazement that quieted him. Hermione took full advantage of the obedience, getting Harry to shield his core and follow her out onto the grounds. It was bitterly cold as they trekked hurriedly across the snowy lawn, the wind biting into their face and hands and blowing snow across their vision. Knowing where the Forest was in her sleep, Hermione led them unerringly into the woods.
Where is he? she asked Castina.
The mare sent her a mental picture of the approximate location, and Hermione immediately began to wend her way towards the appropriate area. It was perhaps a kilometre from the wards that protected the grounds. The wind cut down as they went deeper, as it couldn't penetrate the trees, bushes, and other obstructions, but it was cold and dark. The snow tapered off underfoot.
There are many werewolves, Castina said, sending her flashes of images that added up to around thirty, Hermione thought. The herd is trying to head them off, but there are several packs who have all smelt blood. They are homing in on the area from several different directions, and they are moving swiftly.
Although the werewolves and the unicorns were roughly matched, Hermione knew that the entire herd wouldn't be present at that one location, and the unicorns would be hampered by the fact that they did not actually wish to harm diseased humans; they would do what had to be done, however.
We'll get to Draco, Hermione said, and see if we can't get him out of here.
Unfortunately, the Muggles had got it right when they recorded that unicorns did not tolerate the touch of non-virgins. It was actively painful to adult unicorns, and that meant that one couldn't simply carry the injured Draco out of the Forest.
Castina sent her agreement. Hermione began to move more quickly through the Forest, Harry following as best he could.
How do you know where we're going? he asked.
It's a very long story, and I need to concentrate on what we're doing at the moment. I'll tell you all about it when we're back in the castle and have had a good night's sleep, she promised.
They could hear howls now, and this made Harry stumble forward, spurred on to greater speed. With him alongside her, despite his new training, they weren't the quietest people ever to travel through the Forest, but given that they were heading straight for the area the werewolves were aiming for, she didn't suppose that really mattered.
Most of the other predators would probably be steering clear; werewolves were messy to get involved with, and there wasn't a large enough group of competing predators in the Forest to match them, unless Aragog decided to rouse all of his kin, which he was unlikely to do. The centaurs were similarly unlikely to involve themselves—which was all to the good, as they were likely to put down the dangerous humans, and Hermione was anxious to avoid that scenario.
They continued through the brush, Hermione instinctively skirting obstructions and just keeping a hold of Harry now as it got darker and darker the deeper they went, no light reflecting off snow or stray beams of moonlight reaching through clouds and trees. She had never been happier for the increased senses she had thanks to her unicorn self.
She finally let Harry cast a low light, as he was stumbling into obstacles that she didn't think were anywhere near him. It was probably safe, as the human Death Eaters were unlikely to want to be present for a werewolf attack here; reasoning with a ravening beast consumed by bloodlust on the full moon wasn't an option.
A dark shape suddenly loomed into their field of vision on their right-hand side. They barely had time to recognize the garb of a Death Eater before Harry set off a Stunner which she deflected away from its target, who fired back a brutal Cutting Curse at the source of Harry's spell-fire, forcing her to unMask and throw up a hurried shield around herself and Harry.
"Severus, Harry," she admonished in a harsh whisper, "stop that."
At least she knew the two of them would attack real Death Eaters without hesitation should they stumble across any. Only in hindsight did Hermione realize that she'd been unconsciously aware of Severus, categorizing him as not dangerous and therefore letting him advance to meet them.
Harry unMasked as the Potions master ripped his mask off his face. "What the bloody buggering hell are you doing here?" He sounded shocked, confused, and angry.
"Rescuing Draco, what do you think?" Hermione whispered furiously. "Now is not a good time to talk. We're almost there."
"How do you know that?" Severus demanded, sounding highly suspicious.
She didn't bother to answer his question. "I trust you're the only 'Death Eater' in the Forest?" She wanted to make absolutely certain.
"No," he snarled back, "we're all wandering around in a werewolf-infested forest in the hopes that we'll get eaten, too."
She rolled her eyes. There was no call to be rude.
They travelled for several more minutes, Severus reluctantly falling in line behind her when it became evident even to him and his ego that she really did seem to know where she was going, and she could travel at speed while navigating safely.
"Even if Mr Potter had a vision, it doesn't explain how you can get to Draco like this, nor why the two of you were insane enough to come!" Severus finally snapped explosively.
Travelling in silence indefinitely apparently wasn't an option for him.
"I didn't need Harry's vision, and you're here, too," she said curtly. "A little silence now would be good."
He opened his mouth to protest, but she shushed him loudly and moved more quickly, forcing him to focus on not falling on his face and therefore successfully slowing down his diatribe. The howls of the werewolves were getting louder and more frequent.
She picked up on the sounds of Draco's movements before they did. She brought them to a halt when they were just outside the likely range of Draco's hearing.
"Stay here," she told the two men, who immediately opened their mouths to protest. "Just for a minute. Draco's being chased by werewolves, and if we all suddenly converge upon him, he's likely to do himself or us injury. I'll announce us, and you'll be able to join me momentarily."
They still looked rather mutinous.
"You don't want to cause Draco further harm, do you?" she asked pointedly.
Neither of them did, fortunately, so they acquiesced, both with remarkably similar pinched looks to their faces. They stood almost back to back, a large tree protecting their left side and wands making a circuit of the ninety degrees they each had left to watch and guard against attack from. She nodded at them. Apparently, there was nothing like the threat of a werewolf attack to make them work together.
She slipped silently amongst the trees, making quick work of the remaining distance. Noise of Draco's painful and slow progress reached her ears more clearly now, his laboured breathing accompanying the stumbling gait. She stepped closer, making sure to step on some branches so that it sounded as though someone were there since she didn't want to pop up in front of him and give him a heart attack. She listened as all sounds of movement ceased and he made a concerted effort to quiet his breathing, as well.
"Draco," she called softly—to hell with surnames in this situation—"it's Hermione. I assume they took away your wand, but I'm warning you that I'm about to step out of the trees so that you can see me."
There was no response to this, but she hadn't really expected one because if she was really a Death Eater and this was a trap, his speaking would pinpoint his location. Fortunately, she wasn't a Death Eater, this wasn't a trap, and she didn't need him to speak to know exactly where he was. She lit the tip of her wand so that he would be able to see and stepped past the trees.
He squinted at her. She tried not to wince at the sight of him. The Death Eaters had evidently decided to have some serious sport before they dropped him in the Forest to die, and he looked completely battered.
"What the hell would Hermione Granger be doing in this forest in the middle of the night on a full moon?" he gasped out amidst his struggling breaths.
"Rescuing one of her favourite Slytherins, of course," she answered.
His eyes narrowed. "I'm actually having a little trouble coming up with a reason why anyone would be legitimately in the Forest right now, let alone pretending to be Granger, so I'm more receptive to this mad idea than I would usually be. Prove you're her."
"Let's just say I don't want my decision just before the holiday to be a complete waste. It would be a shame for werewolves to get you three short weeks after I decided that prison was no good for you."
Some of the tension eased out of his body.
"What the hell are you doing here?" he demanded.
She smirked. "Severus wanted to know the same thing."
"Severus is here?" he demanded, looking instantly wary again. "I didn't think they'd send anyone to watch."
Come along, love, she bid Harry, and bring Severus with you. Straight ahead, and you can't miss us: follow my core.
"Don't be daft," she said to Draco. "Severus came straight from the meeting and plunged into this big dark forest because you were in danger. Both he and Harry have come to rescue you."
You think he's going to believe me when I tell him you want us to come? Harry asked doubtfully.
"Harry is here?" Now Draco sounded truly alarmed, and Hermione wondered if he'd realized that he'd forgotten to call her best friend by his surname. "Is he out of his mind?"
Then just start walking, and he'll probably get pissed off and follow, she told Harry. You know how he is.
To Draco, she said, "Harry's a Gryffindor with a mission." She shrugged. "Some might consider that a tautology, but the fact remains that none of us are about to let you die out here."
Severus and Harry arrived. Draco looked shocked to see them actually appear, despite Hermione's warning. Harry had gone white and looked ill. Draco had started back instinctively at sight of Severus, and Hermione realized, as she jumped to support the suddenly unbalanced Slytherin, that having him see Severus in Death Eater garb was perhaps not the most brilliant decision ever.
She felt as much as heard his hiss of pain as his body impacted with hers, but she kept him from falling, which would have hurt more.
"He came to save you, I promise," she said softly. "You have nothing to fear from him."
He looked at her with pain-filled eyes, the grey obscured by the blood that accompanied the black eyes.
"You promise." It was halfway between a question and a statement, as though he wanted to believe her but couldn't quite figure out how it was logical for him to do so.
"You have my word," she said solemnly.
A particularly loud howl carried through the air, reminding them that their mission was on an accelerated timeline. Draco shuddered violently, making Hermione realize that he was shivering from the cold already. He didn't seem to have a cloak, and his robes were inadequate against the winter chill. She thought a Warming Charm.
"Unless you've got a broom tucked away somewhere in that clothing, I think Severus is the least of my problems right now. They Apparated me to the border and took me up on a broom so that they could drop me from several metres above the top of the trees much further in. It's how I broke my ankle, I think."
She shook her head. "The Forest is a dead zone. They dropped you from the height they did because if they'd gone any lower, they'd have been stranded with you. We can't Apparate or Portkey for the same reason."
She wondered how Voldemort had become aware of this little-known fact about the Forest. Although really, she supposed he would be one of the most likely people to have tried to work out how to sneak into the Forest and thus get near Hogwarts undetected.
The howls were getting louder. Nobody else seemed to have any bright ideas. Hermione offered up a quick litany of swearing.
"I assume that you're moving as quickly as you can?" she asked the injured Slytherin.
Draco's look was scathing. The progress he had made while they'd hurried to meet him was miniscule, and she wanted to be certain that was the best he could manage.
"You are correct," he ground out.
No wonder Voldemort had felt confident planting Draco as close to the wards as he had. He was clutching at her with one arm, the other wrapped around his chest, suggesting that he had broken ribs. He'd identified the broken ankle. He was a mass of torn clothing, bruises, cuts, and blood. Hermione was reminded of why she hated Voldemort, which seemed to be the case for Harry, as well, given the look of intense loathing that had replaced the shock on his face.
"Is what I see the worst of your injuries?" Hermione asked.
The blond boy wouldn't meet her eyes. "It's hard to remember all of it, but you can see the vast majority."
She gazed at him critically, certain he was making an omission but knowing now was not the time to press.
"Ferula Examinus Totalis," she pronounced, drawing back only slightly so that she could point her wand at him and not impede the spell. He was leaning rather heavily against her, and she didn't want him to fall over.
Long bandages snaked out and bound themselves all over his body, including his left ankle and thigh, his chest, up over his right shoulder, and down his right arm and wrist. Although he winced in pain as the bandages settled, he appeared to be breathing more easily now, and he gave her a curt nod of thanks.
"Give me a moment to clarify the plan," she told everyone.
Harry would have some idea of why she'd gone silent, but the other two were likely to wonder.
Fawkes? Any chance you're in range?
There was no answer, but she hadn't really expected one. MindSpeech didn't have an infinite range, and she had been pretty sure that the two of them were too far apart—but she had wanted to make sure.
It made her wonder, though, if getting Tonks and the headmaster and his familiar out of the castle had been a set-up; going to Malfoy Manor, Hermione would have brought Fawkes, too, if she could have. She imagined that the headmaster accompanying Tonks and the phoenix going along would be something that Voldemort and his minions could have bet upon, and now it was turning out to be awfully inconvenient for those back at the castle.
She could, she suppose, send her Patronus to the headmaster demanding that Fawkes be sent back, but that would likely take too long, and it would leave the headmaster in potential danger.
Without the possibility of a phoenix to fly down and carry their injured member out at speed, there was only one other method of transportation in the Forest that immediately sprang to mind.
Castina, I need some assistance, if you please.
The mare huffed a soft laugh. Did you think I might refuse?
It seemed impolite to order you here, Hermione answered. I know you have the entire Forest to protect.
And my herd most of all, Castina corrected. You are herd. Plus, I would never leave the two Pure Adults to die in my Forest.
Hermione smiled. I'm glad to hear that.
She turned back to the three men in front of her. Despite her words, Harry and Severus were arguing over ways of carrying Draco that would allow them to travel quickly.
"Help is on its way," she announced.
They all stopped to look at her. Completely incredulously.
"It would be better if you didn't ask questions right now." She seemed to be saying a lot of that today. "I've requested aid, and it's coming."
"Requested it from whom?" Severus demanded.
"Does it really matter?" she asked. "We need it, and it's coming."
The howls of the werewolves were almost constant, as though to illustrate her point.
"Fawkes is with Albus," Harry said, obviously trying to work out what she was planning.
"Far away," she confirmed. "You're about to see one of the last tricks up my sleeve."
Castina and the herd members who had come to help them must have been galloping all out because they arrived in the next moment. Despite their speed, their arrival was soundless, causing all the men to jump. Hermione smiled at her herd welcomingly. Castina was in the lead and stepped closer to Hermione.
Thank you for coming, Hermione said in greeting.
You are always welcome, Berit, you know that. Despite the dire situation, humour laced her tone as she added, They seem surprised.
I don't think it's everyday that they run into unicorns. I'll sort them out.
"Do you see a whole bunch of unicorns?" Draco asked of nobody in particular.
Severus and Harry nodded.
"Huh. I thought the pain had finally got to me and I was hallucinating," he confessed.
"They're really here," Hermione said. "They're going to ensure we get safely out of the Forest."
"And how do you know that?" Harry asked.
"Because this is Castina," she said, gesturing to the unicorn. "She's the herd mare, and she has agreed to help."
"You asked a unicorn for help," Severus said flatly.
"Indeed I did," she confirmed, trying not to sound too amused because she knew that would only annoy him. "And if you'll pardon the pun, now is not the best time to look a gift horse in the mouth. The werewolves aren't far away, and the herd cannot hold all of them off—at least, not without serious injury to the werewolves—if we stay in a stationary position and the werewolves continue to smell the blood they crave. We need to get to the safety of the grounds."
"It's, er, great if the unicorns are going to surround us," Harry said, "but it doesn't really help us move faster. Draco can't do more than hobble." He eyed the blond and amended, "And I think he was only doing that on adrenaline which is quickly wearing off. Unless Hagrid was totally wrong, that doesn't give us very many options."
She looked at Castina. I know you can't bear a non-virgin, but what if Harry rode and carried Draco?
The herd mare snorted. You live to stretch our limits, don't you, Berit?
If I had a better idea, you'd be the first to know.
It hadn't sounded brilliant to her, either, but it was all that she had.
I suppose it will have to do. Ashwin, will you consent to carry the Pure Adult?
Ashwin agreed and stepped forward, kneeling down in front of Harry, who looked at Hermione in confusion.
I'm sorry, she said to Harry.
"He's agreed to carry you," she explained out loud. "We'll put a Featherlight Charm on Draco, and you'll have to carry him and make sure he doesn't touch Ashwin."
"But how could that possibly—" Draco began.
"That is completely non—" Severus started at the same time.
"I can't—"
She had to wait a few seconds for the Knut to finally drop for all of them, understanding painting Harry's features and shock drawn across the other two.
"How could you have kept this a secret?" Severus demanded.
"Now is really not the time to discuss it," she repeated impatiently. They all just stared at her, and she snapped, "Harry, on the unicorn!"
Harry obeyed, and with difficulty, they got Draco charmed and sitting cradled in Harry's lap. Ashwin surged upright, and Hermione wondered if she'd ever see such a bizarre sight again. She cast a Scent-Deadening Charm on Draco to interrupt the smell of blood and make the werewolves concentrate on what was closer.
She said her next speech both mentally and aloud so that everyone would understand. "Ashwin, straight to the grounds of Hogwarts; advise me when they are safe."
He bowed his head. Yes, Berit.
"But what about you?" Harry began to ask.
Go, she admonished.
Ashwin sprang away, Harry's protest cut off abruptly.
She turned back to Castina. Severus must be returned to safety as well.
Castina spoke rapidly with her three companions, a blur of mental noise that Hermione didn't catch before the mare turned back to her. They will protect him.
Thank you, she repeated. Very seriously, she added, I care for him more than I care for anyone in the world.
We will not fail you, Berit. They spoke in unison.
And I need to know when he is safe.
Of course.
She turned to Severus. "Aila, Aland, and Silon will escort you back to the grounds by the most direct route. You'll be running in their midst, and they will keep pace with you and protect you."
"What about you?" he demanded.
"I?" She smiled. "I will be bait."
He looked at her incredulously. "You can't possibly hope to outrun a pack of werewolves on foot."
"On my own feet, of course not. But I do not intend to travel that way."
She leapt astride Castina; Hermione's humanness and the blood that she had absorbed into her clothing from Draco's injuries were both important to her plan.
"Go!" she admonished. "We will lure the werewolves away, and then I will rejoin you on the grounds."
He stared hard at her before he finally turned away and began to run in the direction the unicorns led him. She didn't know how she looked astride a unicorn and covered in Draco's blood, but maybe it had only been in that final moment that Severus had fully realized what it meant that she could talk to the unicorns. Perhaps it was only when she was astride one that the Slytherin had realized that both the Pure Adults had been staring him in the face this whole time.
It had been some time since she had ridden a unicorn, but as Castina had explained back in sixth year, if a unicorn consented to carry someone, that person would not get off until the unicorn willed it, so there was no fear of falling off or being accidentally dumped.
She and Castina shot off at breakneck speed. It wasn't the same as having the ground beneath her own hooves, but Hermione settled into the rhythm quickly. They streaked right towards the oncoming werewolves until she was certain that the packs had caught the scent of Draco's fresh blood.
Castina turned north now, away from Hogwarts and Hogsmeade. There was a moment of uncertainty when the werewolves went silent, and then the howling took up, more ferociously than before and growing louder, and she knew that the bait had been taken. Rational humans might have wondered how the injured man was suddenly moving at speed, but these were werewolves who were unfettered by Wolfsbane and their human minds, and the bloodlust was strong; they would go where the blood led them, and now it led north.
She and Castina made sure that they didn't travel fast enough to outstrip the werewolves who might lose interest if they ceased to smell Draco, and Hermione found that she was now catching glimpses of both the werewolves and her herd; the unicorns paced the packs, ensuring that no werewolves broke off and began to hunt those on their way to Hogwarts. Fortunately, all the werewolves were single-minded in their pursuit of Hermione. Unicorns didn't have fun and exciting human smells, Hermione supposed, and since they weren't interfering in the werewolf hunt, the werewolves were currently disregarding them.
Ashwin advised her that they had reached the safety of the grounds, and a moment later advised her that they had reached the edge of the Forest. The Pure Adult and his mate have dismounted.
Hermione wondered what Harry had done to make the stallion guess at Harry's feelings.
Thank you again.
He sent her something that seemed to be a cross between a snort and a huff. I would not refuse this sort of request, Berit.
She smiled. Doesn't mean I can't properly express my gratitude.
Another human voice intruded: Thank you.
Harry's remark, which he had no doubt intended solely for Ashwin, reached all of them, but Hermione thought it was cute, as did the other unicorns, apparently.
That reminds of a time not so long ago, Castina teased.
Hermione smiled in spite of herself. I've improved drastically since then, I hope.
Castina agreed. She remained surefooted as the terrain began to change, becoming rockier. At the speed they were going, it would still take a day or so until they ran out of trees.
The werewolves were beginning to get frustrated with the elusiveness of their quarry, but they were now far away from other human settlements, making her the only truly interesting meal within smelling range. At least she was giving them good exercise without their injuring anyone.
She wondered how Voldemort had convinced all of them to join in this hunt. Thirty werewolves was a huge group. She knew that many of them were discontented because of the rights that the Ministry denied them, but she couldn't bring herself to believe that such a large number of them had decided to throw their lot in with Voldemort and kill at his pleasure.
This hunt, in particular, seemed rather nonsensical to her. She didn't think that many people who happened to be werewolves could possibly be so upset with the Malfoy scion. As for hunts that would appeal to the werewolf or to the beastly part of the man—if Fenrir Greyback was any indication—surely the hunting of one solitary human wouldn't actually give them that much satisfaction. After all, one little Draco Malfoy divided thirty-odd ways wouldn't make a very good meal for all the hunting they were doing.
That left the possibility that they had been bribed to do it or that they had somehow been tricked or lured here against their will. Hermione wondered if Voldemort could possibly have the manpower to seize them all; in human form, she supposed, it would be possible, and once they were in their animal form, they were going to go after the nearest human. If he were bloodied, as Voldemort had assured that Draco was, there was no question that the werewolves would pick up the scent and hunt him down.
She found that she was suddenly back in contact with Fawkes, as he advised them that the delegation who had gone to Malfoy Manor had returned.
I assume Albus will want to speak to me, but he will have to wait his turn.
Understood. You are well?
Quite good, all things considered. You?
The same.
She and Castina varied their route a little so that they were no longer heading in such a straight direction towards the end of the Forest. Since they were looping round and doubling back, the werewolves had to work harder to track them, which picked up the somewhat flagging interest of the combined pack. The herd had dropped back a bit more, keeping its collective eyes on the werewolves but otherwise making sure they didn't get in the way.
It felt like an eternity until more news reached them, but Hermione knew it couldn't actually have been that many minutes.
Your mate has reached the wards and has passed safely onto the grounds of Hogwarts. Aila snorted. He says he is perfectly capable of making his way through the rest of the Forest himself.
If he were to be eaten by some unexpected monster on the way, I'd have to chastise you strongly, Hermione pointed out.
Aila laughed. We will follow him.
There was a moment of silence, and then, He does not appear to be amused, but he's guessed that you ordered us to follow. You are being threatened with losing points, Berit. Points of what?
Hermione made a brief explanation of the points system at Hogwarts.
But why is what you are doing considered misbehaviour? Aila wanted to know. Does he not want to be kept safe?
He disagrees with my decision to ensure his safety when he believes that he is perfectly capable of taking care of himself. He may or may not go through with the punishment when he sees me again.
He is a strange one, Aila said. I can see much darkness.
He has had very dark portions of his life, Hermione conceded, suppressing a sigh. But he has struggled to correct any evils he has committed, and he fights whole-heartedly against the evil now. He is strong.
Aila huffed an agreement. He ran very fast.
That kind of strength, too. He had a bad experience with a werewolf in his youth. It could not have been a good night for him. But he came out to save Draco anyway.
It sort of boggled her mind, actually, to think about his decision to plunge into the Forbidden Forest with no expectation of really being able to fend off the werewolves but trying anyway because Draco was out here.
Yes, that is noble, Aila assessed. He has reached the grounds and told us … "Thank you. Now, bugger off. I can't have a herd of unicorns following me around all night". This was said quizzically.
Hermione snorted her laughter. The, er, sharpness of the "bugger off" is really directed at me. He's grateful, I promise. He doesn't express gratitude terribly well.
As you say, Berit. He has reached the castle but does not appear to be going in.
She smiled faintly to herself. I believe he will not do so until I return to the grounds as well.
It is good that he seeks to protect you.
She merely nodded, transmitting her agreement non-verbally. That was too complicated for words.
Taking out her wand, she cleansed herself of Draco's blood and Masked her core so that it would appear as though she'd suddenly winked out of the werewolves' sight entirely.
And so it was; a massive howl of anger tore through the night.
If you let me off, I can make my way back to Hogwarts now.
If you wish to change forms, you may do so, but we will both be going back to Hogwarts, Castina said sternly.
She tried to protest, but Castina continued, No unicorn travels alone when we are being overrun by werewolves. Don't be foolish, Berit.
She and Castina quickly outstripped the werewolves, making short work of getting out of their range when they were really trying. This gave Hermione the opportunity to dismount and transform, and then she and Castina looped around the hunting pack and began to make their way back to Hogwarts.
The rest of the herd continued to keep an eye on the werewolves; they would still interfere only if necessary.
I'm very glad unicorns are unicorns, Hermione said, pleased that they didn't have foolish prejudices. I suspect that's why I like to spend so much time with you.
But not lots of time?
This had become a running joke since she had made her assertion to Severus.
Never that, she agreed with amusement.
You know you may change that whenever you wish?
Hermione nodded. Some days I'm very tempted. But I have many responsibilities there that I must fulfill and numerous reasons to stay.
The invitation remains open.
Thank you.
They crossed the wards that indicated they were now on Hogwarts grounds, and Castina slowed to a halt.
Be well, Berit. It was good to see you tonight.
And you, Hermione agreed. Let's hope Voldemort doesn't get more bright ideas, shall we?
We will keep him out of our Forest, Castina said fiercely. I must rejoin the herd. I will advise you when the werewolves have ceased to be a threat.
Thank you again.
Castina was gone in a flicker of light. Hermione cantered to just before the grounds came into sight and transformed back into her human form. She did not Mask herself but emerged onto the snowy grass. Sure enough, Severus was still waiting for her.
He had been sitting on the steps that led up to the main doors, but he rose as she approached. Not only had his face not lost the worry lines that had been there since they had begun their hunt for Draco in the Forest, anger now darkened it further, and he bore down on her with an expression of fury.