No Longer Helpless

Chapter Thirty-Four
It Begins

It was early, and the sun was still making its way up. The tall stands, which during a match between Slytherin and Gryffindor were always jam packed with screaming students, now stood empty. There was a stark contrast in the shade of green grass. Half the field was sparkling with dew in the morning sun, while the other side was cast in the shadows, dark green and no shine. Within the shadows, sticking closely to the towers built for spectators, four figures huddled leisurely.

Fancy old-fashioned suits, black cloaks, and pale white skin were Hermione’s first observations. Blain stood out among them, not because of his top hat, but there was an air about him that demanded respect and authority. To say she was apprehensive was an understatement. It had only been a matter of days ago that she and Draco had their asses handed to them in battle. They hadn’t lasted long at all before they baled.

Taking a deep breath, she watched as Blain walked forward, an obvious reluctance to step into the light, as he seemed to curve along the line between shadow and light. When his dark eyes looked right into Hermione’s, she sensed something a bit more sincere about him, something she’d never picked up on before.

Draco hadn’t given her any details on what exactly happened last night, and it was most definitely something big. Regardless of not having a clue what their intentions for being here were for, Hermione was far from being fool enough to reject their help. Tomorrow was going to be the final battle, an all out assault against Voldemort. Voldemort’s numbers were large and he had dark magic that was powerful, but a resource the Order refused to use. If they were given the chance to include vampires on their side, there would be no hesitation in accepting. Though, this was more a request than an offer, she wasn’t going to hinder this, as Blain’s expectant look told her it was she which had tempted him here.

“Blain” she called out clearly, walking towards him, as he remained just out of the light.

The crazed creature moved with nothing but grace and elegance, as he reached a white
gloved hand up to remove his hat, and give a low bow. “M’lady” he spoke deeply.

“What was promised to you, that you have come to aide us?” she asked, in a tone, which was subtly impassive, not showing whether she approved of his presence, or not.

Lifting his head, looking far into her eyes, he noticed the change with glee. Dropping his hat, and cane, he bent to one knee and reached out for her hand. Though he stopped short of grasping it, since he knew her powers, she presented her hand after a brief moment. “The Angelus is whole now, and the promise more enticing. We fight, we kill, we enjoy. For you, we come. A feather is offered, I receive this from the Angelus.”

Resisting the urge to pull her hand back when he started stroking it, Hermione listened. Well, if his obsessive liking of the Angelus wasn’t enough to draw him to their side, then surely the opportunity to fulfill the vampire’s bloodlust was. Though, she shivered at the thought of what massacre was sure to be made.

For her part, she didn’t find anything special in her wings. They were hard to present and get to come out in the first place, and they were too massive to be convenient. Flying was done with brooms, and while she didn’t like brooms, the idea of having nothing to hold onto in the air was even less appealing. In all honesty her wings were nothing more than a safety net, when all else failed and she was plummeting to the ground.

“Sure, a feather. One for each of your buddies also I suppose?” she asked, almost amused at the fact that these were the very same persons who’d tried to beat them up. Then again, Moody tried to do that to them on a daily basis, and look at their relationship with the older Auror.

Still holding her hand, Blain rose, stepping closer to her, his features splayed in the morning’s light now, and gently kissed her hand.

The moment Blain did this, there was a rambunctious clambering from the other four vampires, who chose to come forward and join Blain.

One pale creature, who looked rather young, walked up right beside Hermione, and said while clapping and rubbing his hands together, “So, I hear this fiend is quite mad!”

“Yeah, something like that,” Hermione replied, not wanting to explain the past fifty years of wizarding history to someone who hadn’t cared enough to know until now.

Introductions were made, first by Moody. Of the ten Aurors present, three were Untouchables and Moody did not disclose their names. Then there was Tonks, Samson, Tearnogh, Cody, and two other’s they hadn’t met before. Their names were Schneider and Terrance. When Moody finished calling their names and having them give a simple nod, Blain jumped up and down, twirling his cane about.

“Renfield, Parry, Shadow, Mimic!” Blain called, and each vampire stepped up. Hermione began to understand why Blain had called Draco a ‘maiden’. As Hermione viewed the entirely androgynous appearance of each of Blain’s friends, she knew why he had issues with telling the difference between sexes. Upon closer inspection though, she determined that Shadow and Mimic were not boys, and Mimic was quite young looking. They all wore suits though, and their hair was short.

While part of her, well most of her, told her not to bother asking, she did anyway, “And what is it that they are named for?”

Smiling broadly, Blain stopped twirling his cane and became so amused, “That is for battle, not before. Too easy, too easy.”

The next seven hours were spent training. They divided up into groups, Blain insisted on being grouped with Hermione and Draco. It was quite like manhunt, only instead of quietly capturing another team you had to beat them into submission. Between the castle and grounds around Hogwarts, nothing was ‘out of bounds’.

Considering who they were up against, Hermione and Draco did well to last as long as they had, to the very end. Blain was only caught because he wanted to be, something about needing to tell an amusing joke to the pink haired klutz.

It was a long and exhausting day. Even after working with Blain and his friends, or at least being around them for a longer time, no one felt at ease with them. There was a reason no one ever considered recruiting vampires for their cause. They were violent, insane, and would kill you at the drop of a hat unless you posed an amusement to them. Blain would have killed them in the clearing if Hermione hadn’t been an Angelus. The worst and most unsettling part was that they were all deceiving, even if they weren’t doing it intentionally. Blain came off as a total nutcase, almost amusing at times. As soon as anyone stopped seeing something as a threat and viewed it as a mad but funny lunatic, they were in more danger for it.

It hadn’t taken long for Hermione to understand where Blain’s friends received their names, or rather nick names. Renfield was quite possibly the most insane among them, hardly stringing more than two coherent sentences together and always speaking about how he liked to collect ‘pretty things’. The fact that he eyed her up and down when mentioning this each time made her extremely uncomfortable. Parry was a creature of unmatchable reflexes. His movements were rarely offensive, and no one was able to land a single solid hit. He deflected or avoided every single attack. Shadow, acted just like her name. Somehow she was able to read and follow a person’s movements no sooner than they made them. When she had her target, she became their shadow, no matter how frantically they moved about. And, last but not least, was Mimic. She never spoke, not once. Hermione suspected she might be mute, but then again considering the apparent common insanity among this merry little band, she figured the young looking girl chose not to speak. At the end of their training, Moody had been curious to test out what Mimic could do, though most of them had already seen a bit of it. Mimic was able to copy a person’s movements. Moody showed her flash step, and she was able to do it after seeing it done once.

Truth be told, Hermione couldn’t help but think that these creatures were rather amusing and exciting. She’d never met a vampire prior to her little trip to Druids Mantra, and afterwards, her opinion of them wasn’t too high. After all, they’d taken three students captive. Although, the students had wandered into their territory and they were unharmed. Still, there remained something so intriguing about Blain and his friends. If they didn’t have so much to focus on Hermione would have grabbed a quill and parchment and interviewed Blain, getting a first hand account of his life. It was impossible to tell how long they had lived, though if their attire was any indication she’d say at least a couple of centuries.

The solid strength Hermione felt had did not stop the day from flying by faster than her want. Time hadn’t been a factor when she was ducking into the Charms classroom to dodge one of Tonks’ hexes, but now that it was evening and the battle was on the horizon, time was everything.

**

Dinner in the Great Hall was silent, even with Harry, Ron and Ginny. Ginny looked like she had been crying, which she had been, as Ron complained at length. Ginny was not allowed to leave the Burrow beginning the moment she returned from dinner. Mrs. Weasley was practically keeping her under lock and key, but understandably so, since Ginny made no secret of her intentions to run off and join the battle.

Half way through the meal Ginny hugged Hermione in a death grip and wouldn’t let go, even at her own insisting. Sighing, Hermione tried to calm the young redhead while she started to cry again, “Ginny, this isn’t like you.”

“I know, but I won’t be there and you will, and everyone else… and what happens if-” she started spouting off, but fell abruptly silent.

Hermione had the impression that while Ginny was truly concerned for her, she was also just repeating arguments that she’d already worn out on Harry and Ron, who at the moment seemed impassive about her distress.

“Ginny…” Hermione began, wondering what exactly it was she planned to say. Stroking the girl’s long hair, she gently extracted her arm from Ginny’s grip and pushed her back. For some reason, Harry and Ron were now looking at her, as though she could make Ginny stop, and become cheerful again. But, it was more than that. It wasn’t just about
Ginny, they had come to expect something more from Hermione, every one had. It was now her job to make everything all right again.

Seeing this expectation, Hermione knew she was far from being a single person accomplishing the task, but as their best friend, she was the only person they would listen to and believe.

Pushing her plate away, in a show that she was going to speak, she began again, still not certain of what she wanted to say, “Ginny, tomorrow, we are going to fight. This is going to work.” There was no trace of anything but firm resolution in her voice, “Voldemort will strike first, and we will be more than ready. Don’t have any doubts, not now, not ever.”

Standing up, Hermione blinked over to Harry and Ron, and gave them hugs and kisses, before turning to leave.

Harry and Ron were on their feet in a heartbeat, knowing Hermione might just disappear,
“Wait!” Harry called.

“Hermione, this is the last time we’ll get to be with each other like this,” Ron reasoned, having thought they were all going to spend the night together, even if Draco was present.

“No,” she said, not even turning around, “This is far from the last time. We’ll be talking again real soon, tomorrow night perhaps, and I’m sure it’ll be at our victory party.” She turned her head toward them, craning her neck to see them. She smiled broadly. “I love you guys… and if you get yourselves killed, I’ll personally find a way to resurrect you, don’t give me that look Ron, you know I could do it, and I’ll kill you myself.”

Ginny couldn’t help but laugh at this. There was something about little innocent Hermione almost making a complete joke out of the fact that her best friends could be killed. There was also something entirely comforting about it, like Hermione could joke about it because she already knew the outcome.

She was gone after another moment, only to have Draco silently follow. Three rather stunned friends were left in her wake.

**

“I think he needed that,” Ron commented to Ginny, as they watched Harry leave the Burrow for headquarters. He was of course referring to Hermione’s words earlier, since it was all any of them could think about for some time after.

“I think I needed that too,” Ginny replied, knowing that Hermione had given her hope. Ginny figured no one could seem so confident with out a good reason, and that reason was she was certain they were going to win.

“We’ll win” Ron said, ruffling his sister’s hair, he knew she’d been under a lot of stress. As her brother, he would never allow her anywhere near the battlefield, but he did understand her current point of view. As it was, he’d almost been excluded from the frontline, but he was too stubborn and had Harry petitioning for him.

Since Harry lost sight of Hermione after dinner, he’d been solemn and shut off. Hardly speaking a farewell as he left for Grimmauld place. She was right. They would win. The only trouble with that was his fate, which he thought he’d accepted and moved passed, was going to come to pass very shortly. While there was no telling how long the fighting might last, there was a certain feeling about it, which told him the wizarding world would be changed forever in less than twenty-four hours.

**

The sky was gray with a thick covering of clouds. The morbid figure of professor Snape loomed over Hermione’s tiny figure the entire time she stood before her parents’ graves. This was not the way Hermione wanted to pay her respects, not at all. But, she needed to do it anyway, pushing Snape’s presence to the back of her mind, she continued with the little act.

It wasn’t that she was nervous, but that her nerves were high strung. Waiting for something, anything to happen at any moment. However, her morning went on without incident.

From leaving Hogwarts bright and early, to finding the small cemetery which her mother’s parents had been buried in, and therefore her parents would be too, as it was in their will. She’d been there a several times, with her mother, visiting on the anniversaries that marked her grandparents’ death. Now, however, the quaint little churchyard that was beautiful on any other day, felt like nothing but a barren wasteland of dull grass, chill winds, and weathered stones. Every shadow had her eyes darting and her body wanting to react. More than once she’d nearly spelled a bird into oblivion, but luckily had refrained from giving anything away to who ever might be watching.

Snape’s snide remarks every two seconds didn’t help ease her mind any. It was amazing how he could still be such a pompous prick under such circumstances. She would have put him in his place, had she not another year of potion’s class to go through with him, and she felt certain he’d have no qualms about failing her just for what came out of her mouth today.

For all her expectations and briefing on what might possibly happen, she was extremely
disappointed. Nothing happened. A few breezes and chirping birds had set her on edge, while she waited for what could be classified as any assault. Kneeling down on one knee, too afraid to be any more vulnerable than that, she bowed her head in silence.

She was too wary to allow herself the actual chance to do what she was supposedly there to be doing; she raised her head and read her mother and father’s name without emotion. Grieving and mourning were not emotions she had the time to play host to. After the war was over, but not before.

While her mind raced, knowing that waiting was quite possibly the worst part, she finally broke down and let out a sigh. Chuckling lightly, she wondered whether she’d make it through the day without hexing a bird. Some of them cawed so sporadically that she couldn’t help but be ready to fight the moment she hear their call.

But, she didn’t think she’d have to worry much about that anymore, it would seem she’d scared them all off, as no songs and chirps could be heard now.

Her head snapped back up suddenly, “Snape!” she hissed as loud as she dared. He wasn’t far off, as even he’d respected her space enough to stay at a nearby tree, though only after she’d given him a scathing look.

“That’s ‘professor’ Miss Granger!” he barked back, no different for the circumstances they were under.

“Do you hear that?” she asked urgently.

Sensing the tone of her voice, he tightened his grip on his wand and casually stalked over to her, “Hear what?” he asked, taking whatever she might have heard seriously.

“The birds?” she asked, even more expressive of her frantic mood.

Snape paused a moment, earlier the girl had nearly decapitated a few of the dirty beasts, but thankfully their chipper annoyance was lacking now. “No” he stated, not so sure what she was getting at.

“Exactly” she whispered, standing and looking him in the eye.

Once her meaning set in, she saw the briefest widening of his cobalt eyes and his jaw clench.

“Miss Granger,” he started in a return to his usual air of loathing, “Did anyone ever tell you, that too much power can be a bad thing?”

Brows furrowed in confusion she looked at him, wondering at his change in demeanor. “Yes sir. The saying is usually strung along in a political sense,” she answered, not sure what else to do. Was this some code she hadn’t been briefed on?

Rolling his eyes at the way she managed to change so much and still remain an insufferable know-it-all, he continued, “Power attracts attention. And attention attracts desire. Do you know what the Dark Lord desires?”

Chewing her lip, not understanding what he was getting at she shook her head, knowing something was about to snap at any given moment.

“You!” came a harsh, cold, hiss from behind the tree Snape had just been leaning against.

TBC…