Hermione and Draco were in the kitchen eating breakfast early the next morning when Kingsley arrived with their Portkey: a hairbrush.
“It’s scheduled to go off in seven minutes. It’ll take you about a mile south from where our information tells us the Death Eaters are, so go north when you get there. Once you have them immobilized, call for back-up. We’ll be there as soon as we can to take them to the Ministry and you can go home.”
Draco nodded. “You said there were five Death Eaters, correct? And Jugson is among them.”
“Yes,” Kingsley said. “We believe he’s the leader of the group. He’s the most dangerous, but the mission shouldn’t be a problem for people as magically adept as you two.” Hermione smiled and blushed, but Draco showed no sign of acceptance for the compliment.
When the two had finished their breakfast, Kingsley checked his watch. “30 seconds. Are you ready?”
Hermione and Draco nodded. Holding onto their bags, they gripped the hairbrush. 28 seconds later, they were whipped away to Scotland.
They landed in the middle of a forest, surrounded by evergreens. Hermione murmured, “Point me,” and her wand spun to face north.
“We need to go north, like Kingsley said. If we walk, we’ll reach their hide out in about twenty minutes.”
They set off in the direction Hermione’s wand was pointing. Draco initiated conversation, much to Hermione’s surprise.
“Tell me about Jugson. He almost killed Tria?”
“Yes. It was fifth year, when we were in the Department of Mysteries. I’m sure you heard about it. We were fighting off a group of Death Eaters, Jugson among them. He threw a cursed mirror at her. Cut her arm all the way down, from the shoulder to the wrist. She ignored it and told us it was nothing. Right before we left, we realized how bad it was. She was pale, and soaked with blood. She hadn’t said a word, but she nearly died of blood loss. When we got to the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey said that another minute without treatment would have killed her. She lost nearly half the blood in her body. The cut scarred, permanently. I’m sure you remember it.”
Draco nodded, his face perfectly expressionless. “She just said it was from that battle. She didn’t give specifics.”
“It scared us. It scared all of us. She didn’t like to talk about it, but she struggled with piano for a while after that. It was her right arm. She had trouble writing too. She got better, but she hated the weakness.”
“That sounds like her. Not mentioning it is exactly what she would do.”
“She knew how bad it was too. She just didn’t want to say. She didn’t want to hold us back or stop us.”
“Pure Tria. She was loyal too. I was never mean or rude to her, but she hated me because I was mean and rude to you, Harry, and Ron.”
“You’re right, now that you think about it. You never insulted her. Why?”
“She fascinated me. I didn’t even realize I fancied her until fourth year, but she always fascinated me. I didn’t want to alienate her.”
“I never knew that.”
“Yeah. Things changed at the Yule Ball. I took a chance, asked her to the Ball. And that’s when it started between us. We kissed at the end of the night.”
“Of course she said yes. She was a big believer in second chances, and she could make friends with anyone or anything.”
“I know. One of the reasons I took the chance in the first place.”
Hermione smothered laughter as she recalled something else. “She teased Ron all the time! Always saying Ron and I would end up together. She was right, I suppose. It just didn’t work out.”
They fell silent. “We should stay quiet for the rest of trip. We’re getting close to their camp.”
Five minutes later, they came across the clearing. Hermione held up a hand with three fingers showing, the Order’s code for the most advised plan of attack: sneak attack. Draco nodded.
Sneak attacks were the least dangerous and most effective form the Order used for capturing Death Eaters. It was simple and idiot-proof. You hid near the Death Eaters hide-out and cursed them, using spells such a Stunners and Full-Body Bind. Some of the more honor bound Order members objected to cursing wizards while their backs were turned, but safety outweighed honor in the Order of the Phoenix.
They chose a place where all five Death Eaters had their backs to them. All were male. Two of them were older, thirties or forties. Hermione recognized one of these men as Jugson. The other three were barely out of their teens, obviously new recruits by these former followers of the Dark Lord. Hermione pitied them.
Draco held up three fingers. They aimed their wands. He put a finger down. They prepared for the spells. One finger left. And a fist.
The silent stunners hit two of the teenagers in the back. The slumped, though the other three took no notice. Draco quickly disposed of the other young man as well. The two older didn’t even flinch, as they were deep in conversation that was just out of Hermione and Draco’s earshot.
Hermione held up three fingers. The ritual was repeated, and all five Death Eaters lay unconscious on the forest floor. Draco quickly tied them up, while Hermione sent a Patronus to Kingsley.
“Well done,” Draco congratulated her. “I usually prefer direct confrontation, but this method worked well.”
“It suited the situation best,” Hermione said, helping him tie the last not. “And you did well too.”
“Thanks,” Draco said. At that moment, John Summers and George Weasley arrived.
“Jugson, eh?” John asked in his deep bass voice. “We had heard rumors, but didn’t know for sure until Kingsley sent us.” He glared down at the sleeping wizard. John had hated the man ever since Tria’s near death experience.
The four Apparated to the Ministry with the Death Eaters, and handed them over to Auror Office. John, Head of the Auror Office, stayed there but Hermione, Draco, and George returned to the Burrow.
Later that night, Draco sat trying the word “partner” on his tongue. He didn’t mind it when the person he was thinking of was Hermione.
“It’s scheduled to go off in seven minutes. It’ll take you about a mile south from where our information tells us the Death Eaters are, so go north when you get there. Once you have them immobilized, call for back-up. We’ll be there as soon as we can to take them to the Ministry and you can go home.”
Draco nodded. “You said there were five Death Eaters, correct? And Jugson is among them.”
“Yes,” Kingsley said. “We believe he’s the leader of the group. He’s the most dangerous, but the mission shouldn’t be a problem for people as magically adept as you two.” Hermione smiled and blushed, but Draco showed no sign of acceptance for the compliment.
When the two had finished their breakfast, Kingsley checked his watch. “30 seconds. Are you ready?”
Hermione and Draco nodded. Holding onto their bags, they gripped the hairbrush. 28 seconds later, they were whipped away to Scotland.
They landed in the middle of a forest, surrounded by evergreens. Hermione murmured, “Point me,” and her wand spun to face north.
“We need to go north, like Kingsley said. If we walk, we’ll reach their hide out in about twenty minutes.”
They set off in the direction Hermione’s wand was pointing. Draco initiated conversation, much to Hermione’s surprise.
“Tell me about Jugson. He almost killed Tria?”
“Yes. It was fifth year, when we were in the Department of Mysteries. I’m sure you heard about it. We were fighting off a group of Death Eaters, Jugson among them. He threw a cursed mirror at her. Cut her arm all the way down, from the shoulder to the wrist. She ignored it and told us it was nothing. Right before we left, we realized how bad it was. She was pale, and soaked with blood. She hadn’t said a word, but she nearly died of blood loss. When we got to the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey said that another minute without treatment would have killed her. She lost nearly half the blood in her body. The cut scarred, permanently. I’m sure you remember it.”
Draco nodded, his face perfectly expressionless. “She just said it was from that battle. She didn’t give specifics.”
“It scared us. It scared all of us. She didn’t like to talk about it, but she struggled with piano for a while after that. It was her right arm. She had trouble writing too. She got better, but she hated the weakness.”
“That sounds like her. Not mentioning it is exactly what she would do.”
“She knew how bad it was too. She just didn’t want to say. She didn’t want to hold us back or stop us.”
“Pure Tria. She was loyal too. I was never mean or rude to her, but she hated me because I was mean and rude to you, Harry, and Ron.”
“You’re right, now that you think about it. You never insulted her. Why?”
“She fascinated me. I didn’t even realize I fancied her until fourth year, but she always fascinated me. I didn’t want to alienate her.”
“I never knew that.”
“Yeah. Things changed at the Yule Ball. I took a chance, asked her to the Ball. And that’s when it started between us. We kissed at the end of the night.”
“Of course she said yes. She was a big believer in second chances, and she could make friends with anyone or anything.”
“I know. One of the reasons I took the chance in the first place.”
Hermione smothered laughter as she recalled something else. “She teased Ron all the time! Always saying Ron and I would end up together. She was right, I suppose. It just didn’t work out.”
They fell silent. “We should stay quiet for the rest of trip. We’re getting close to their camp.”
Five minutes later, they came across the clearing. Hermione held up a hand with three fingers showing, the Order’s code for the most advised plan of attack: sneak attack. Draco nodded.
Sneak attacks were the least dangerous and most effective form the Order used for capturing Death Eaters. It was simple and idiot-proof. You hid near the Death Eaters hide-out and cursed them, using spells such a Stunners and Full-Body Bind. Some of the more honor bound Order members objected to cursing wizards while their backs were turned, but safety outweighed honor in the Order of the Phoenix.
They chose a place where all five Death Eaters had their backs to them. All were male. Two of them were older, thirties or forties. Hermione recognized one of these men as Jugson. The other three were barely out of their teens, obviously new recruits by these former followers of the Dark Lord. Hermione pitied them.
Draco held up three fingers. They aimed their wands. He put a finger down. They prepared for the spells. One finger left. And a fist.
The silent stunners hit two of the teenagers in the back. The slumped, though the other three took no notice. Draco quickly disposed of the other young man as well. The two older didn’t even flinch, as they were deep in conversation that was just out of Hermione and Draco’s earshot.
Hermione held up three fingers. The ritual was repeated, and all five Death Eaters lay unconscious on the forest floor. Draco quickly tied them up, while Hermione sent a Patronus to Kingsley.
“Well done,” Draco congratulated her. “I usually prefer direct confrontation, but this method worked well.”
“It suited the situation best,” Hermione said, helping him tie the last not. “And you did well too.”
“Thanks,” Draco said. At that moment, John Summers and George Weasley arrived.
“Jugson, eh?” John asked in his deep bass voice. “We had heard rumors, but didn’t know for sure until Kingsley sent us.” He glared down at the sleeping wizard. John had hated the man ever since Tria’s near death experience.
The four Apparated to the Ministry with the Death Eaters, and handed them over to Auror Office. John, Head of the Auror Office, stayed there but Hermione, Draco, and George returned to the Burrow.
Later that night, Draco sat trying the word “partner” on his tongue. He didn’t mind it when the person he was thinking of was Hermione.