“My patience, young Malfoy, is wearing thin,” the Dark Lord hissed, only inches away from Draco’s bowed head.

His body was rigid, held under a nonverbal curse the Dark Lord had cast that kept him firmly in place but Hermione could see the beads of sweat collecting at Draco’s temples, the muscle of his jaw working as if he tried to fight the body bind.

They had been informed of the summons only that morning and Hermione was relieved it was a night where Harry had detention with Snape – she wondered if her potions professor hadn’t coordinated with the Dark Lord.

From the moment they’d entered the drawing room of the Lestrange Estate, the Dark Lord had directed Hermione to his right-hand side on the dais before calling Draco forward and immediately forcing his body into the strange kneeling position he was currently in.

“I-I’m sorry, my lord,” Draco gritted through his teeth, his muscles beginning to tremble.

“What is your plan?” the Dark Lord snapped, flicking his wand so Draco’s torso inched closer towards the ground.

Hermione’s teeth ground together as she watched from behind her mask. Her magic crackled across her fingertips, itching to stop the Dark Lord. Wanting nothing more than to throw herself in front of his wand.

“W-we plan…” Draco tried to get out, his eyes moving up to Hermione’s before back to blazing red irises in front of him. “T-to…”

Impatiently the Dark Lord flicked his wand one more time so Draco sprawled onto the floor. She knew in a moment he would turn to her, looking for answers – looking for a redemption for Draco.

Just as she thought, the Dark Lord turned in a swirl of midnight robes, his ruby gaze falling upon her.

“Couteau? Care to help the boy?”

She dipped her head in an expression of obedience.

“Dumbledore has been giving Harry private lessons, my lord. His next one is this coming Sunday.” Her mind worked fast, trying to think of a logical plan. “We plan to ambush him and Potter at the end of the lesson, taking them by surprise.”

The Dark Lord’s smile split his face in half, his sharp teeth glinting like shards of diamonds in the low light.

“Good,” he said, twisting his wand to release the curse on Draco, whose body relaxed onto the ground. Hermione stopped herself from rushing to him, merely clenching her fist inside her cloak. “I will send reinforcements for assistance.”

Her eyes widened.

“I appreciate that, my lord… However, I believe we –”

Suddenly he was merely inches from her face, the putrid stench of death swirling around them.

“I will send reinforcements for assistance,” the Dark Lord said firmly.

Hermione dipped her head once more.

“Of course. Thank you, my lord,” she answered this time, her throat tight.

…

“Hermione! Ron!” Harry cried, jumping over an ottoman and a first year as he ran into the common room.

It was Sunday evening, mere hours before the reinforcements the Dark Lord sent would enter the castle. Hours before they were set to enact the plan Hermione had hastily invented.

Theo had urged Hermione to be present in the common room as long as possible to act as an alibi – knowing that she could not be implicated in the plan. Draco had agreed, though she knew he would have preferred for her to stay behind all together for safety reasons, he never said so out loud.

“What is it, Harry?” Hermione asked, wide eyed at his panic.

Harry stopped, his hands clutching the small table where Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Neville were working. He swallowed loudly before trying to speak again.

“D-Dumbledore is taking me out of the castle,” he panted. “Says he’s found one.”

She blinked at him.

The subject of horcruxes had been brought up a few times in the past and though she’d attempted plenty of research on the subject, so far it had all been for nothing. There were no books in the Hogwarts library that even mentioned the mysterious dark magic, though she was sure the Malfoy library would yield better results.

When Harry had first told her and Ron about the knowledge of horcruxes, she’d been tempted to rush straight to the Dark Lord. But she knew better than to go without proof or an understanding of the information she held. She wanted to ensure that it was something worth alerting him to before doing so.

“Merlin’s beard,” Ron whispered under his breath.

Hermione tried to repress a grimace. Though she’d eventually allowed herself to be in Ron’s presence, it wasn’t easy.

“Listen, he says he had a tip off that something might be happening tonight in the castle and I need you to take this.” He thrust the tiny phial of lucky potion into Hermione’s hands. “Share it with Ginny and whoever else and be ready.”

Hermione’s heart dropped. How could Dumbledore have been alerted? How could he possibly know that something was going to happen tonight?

“You take it Harry,” she said quickly, pushing the phial back at him – knowing he’d never accept it. “You’ll need it more than us.”

Harry shook his head, using his hand to close her fingers around it.

“No, I won’t need it – I’ll be with Dumbledore.”

Without another word Harry ran from the room and Hermione could just make out the shimmering material of his invisibility cloak trailing behind him.

“Godric… Do you think he’s right?” Neville asked, his round eyes growing wider by the moment.

“If Dumbledore thinks something is going to happen, then something is going to happen,” Ron said confidently before turning to Hermione. “You think those galleons still work? Think we should pull together the DA?”

Hermione stared at Ron for a long moment, her mind working frantically, before she finally swallowed and nodded.

An hour later all of Dumbledore’s Army had been notified. Ron, Ginny, Hermione, Luna, and Neville had all taken a small measure of felix felicis.

Hermione felt the potion slowly working through her system and she could almost hear it whispering in her ear:

What is it you want?

What is it you need?

Let me help you.

A slow, easy smile curled across her face and the path forward illuminated in front of her.

Dumbledore would die tonight.