“I think—,” she hesitated and crossed her arms. “I've been — dabbling in a few things lately. I think I've found a way to take down the wards around the castle. I've been analysing all the reports brought back. There's — a bomb — a bomb I think I can make. It can be placed under temporary stasis. We can have Draco or Severus plant it without risking their covers. I can delay the detonation for up to three days.”
Moody stared at her. “You think?”
Hermione's throat tightened, but she lifted her chin. “Well, I've never made one before. When I mentioned the idea a few years ago, I was told it was unethical, regardless of how targeted the blast could be on a Death Eater location. The Order decided we could only use explosives on empty buildings. However, this one wouldn't have much collateral. The blast would be targeted at the magic surrounding the castle. So — if it's framed carefully, the Order shouldn't find it unethical in this case.”
“What materials would it require?”
She could see Moody calculating a budget for her proposal.
She swallowed. “I — already have them.”
Moody's expression stiffened. His eye spun and locked on her. “This is Malfoy's idea then. He's offering to supply you?”
Hermione pushed her chin up. “No. This is my research exclusively. I have the materials because the Resistance brought them in last year when the curse division's lab was raided. There was a large quantity of materials brought back that—” her mouth twitched. “They aren't used in traditional forms of potion making. I have more than everything I'd need.”
Moody gave her a long look. “You've never reported it.”
She raised her eyebrows. “I was busy at the time; all I could do was store them until I had time to catalogue it. It wasn't until July that I knew exactly what I was handling.” She shrugged. “My supplies were never an inventory I was asked to report.”
Alastor's face twitched with irritation, but he seemed to be seriously considering the proposal.
He ran his thumb along the handle of his wand. “Using a bomb to get into Hogwarts would result in an all-out battle.”
“I know.” Her chest felt constricted, and she had to force herself to breathe. “I was thinking, if it's played as a rescue, we could use a larger attack as a diversion while a smaller group could go into the castle. The school should still recognise Minerva; it might cooperate with us.”
Moody gave a slow nod, looking deep in thought.
Hermione left without a word.
Alone in her potion cabinet, she leaned over and rested her head on the worktop. Her hands were shaking from stress and exhaustion. Voldemort felt like an incoming tide. The rock the Resistance had lashed itself to was crumbling beneath them.
No matter what she did, it was never enough to enable them to get ahead.
Draco had been abroad for nearly a week, inspecting the puppet governments Voldemort had set up across Europe. It was an assignment Voldemort tended to give out on whim.
Rodolphus Lestrange had been on such a mission when he'd been intercepted by Gabrielle.
Draco left a note in the shack to explain his absence. It had been so abruptly assigned that a note was all he could manage.
Since the day she had read it, Hermione had nightmares of arriving at the beach in Cornwall and discovering Draco sitting mangled in that small room in the cave. Nightmares of him never returning at all, and receiving word from Severus that he'd been been found dismembered in some foreign city.
She had never even thought to warn him about Gabrielle.
When her ring burned again for the first time in days, she ran out of Grimmauld Place to apparate and flung herself through the door of the shack.
He was already standing in the middle of the room, still wearing his Death Eater robes.
“You're back,” she said, so relieved she felt her knees might give out. He was there, he was still alive, he appeared uninjured.
She reached towards him. Her hands were shaking as she grasped his robes and touched his face.
“Are you alright?” he asked.
She gave a short nod as she rested her head against his chest.
“What's wrong?”
She closed her eyes for several seconds and listened to his heart, just feeling him: alive.
“Nothing. I'm just so tired. I feel like I forgot to breathe until now.”
He was still for a moment before he gave a low sigh. His hands hesitated before he rested them on her shoulders.
Her stomach dropped, and she opened her eyes. “What's wrong?”
Draco was silent. His fingers twitched. “My father — he's being recalled to Britain.”
Hermione's heart stalled as she looked up at him.
His expression was closed. Resigned. “He'll expect my company when we're both off duty.”
“Oh.”
She didn't know what else to say. She stared up at him, and he looked away from her, but his hands remained on her shoulders.
She grasped for words. “Of course, you should spend time with your father.”
He gave a sharp laugh.
“Hardly. My father, he—” Draco hesitated, and his gaze dropped to the floor. There was a trace of boyishness in his tone. “—well, he blamed me for my mother's fragile health.” His expression was closed, but his eyes flickered. “He always said he expected me to be an exceptional heir to make up for — nearly killing her.”
“Draco—”
He jerked slightly and cleared his throat, his tone becoming clipped again. “Suffice to say, I'll have little availability — to anyone — for the foreseeable future. It may take me longer to complete assignments. If you can inform Moody, I hope he'll take it into account.”
Not available. Not to the Order. Not her.
She felt so tired she could barely stand, but she nodded and drew herself up. “Of course. Don't worry. I'm sorry. You'll be back in the manor then, won't you?”
He gave a short nod.
She caught his hands and ran her fingers along them, checking for any tremors. She needed to make sure he was alright. If she didn't know when she'd see him again, she had to know he was alright. “When will he arrive?”
“Tomorrow or the day after. I found out when I reported back.” His voice was dull.
Her mouth twitched, and she focused on his hands. “I'm sorry. Maybe — it won't be for long.”
“It's possible. He doesn't like to stay in Britain.”
He drew a sharp breath, and his jaw twitched as he watched her check his fingers, again and again. “I suspect there's something coming. Tell Moody. It was mentioned to me that the Dark Lord has gone to Sussex personally several times while I was gone. Whatever it is he's doing, he isn't confiding to anyone currently, except perhaps Dolohov. It — could be related to my father's unexpected return.”
Hermione nodded. “I'll tell Moody. I think — the Order is preparing to make a move on Hogwarts.”
“It would be a relief if they did something. Things have been suspiciously quiet lately.” There was an unspoken question in his tone.
Hermione avoided his eyes. “Losing Kingsley was a blow. It's affected morale.” She kept looking at his hands.
“They have been suspiciously quiet for me too. Are there concerns about my morale?” Draco's tone was light but with a razor edge hidden in it.
Hermione looked up. “No. I haven't told Moody about your threat, if that's what you're asking.”
Draco's eyes flickered. She saw him doubt her.
The corner of her mouth twitched, and she let go of his hand and stepped back.
“After Kingsley died, I told Moody that he and Kingsley had been over-utilising you just to buy time without any broader strategy, and I wasn't going to stand by and watch it anymore.” She shrugged. “I'm more crucial now — without Kingsley, Moody needs my support to maintain all the classified aspects within the Order.” She gave him a small smile. “I can protect you now.”