the magpie // tomione

iv.

A summer fog covers the night, rolling over the ink black water. It obscures their clandestine movements so perfectly Hermione wonders if it is by design.

For as many times as Hermione has travelled within the Hogwarts boats, she has never set foot at the underground harbour at the far edge of the grounds. The castle is visible from afar, the crescent moon framed between tower spires.

Fenrir stands at the edge of the harbor, giving her distance. The sight of the young werewolf doesn't fill her with terror anymore, if only because she has chosen him as the lesser of many evils.

"I was beginning to feel unneeded." She confesses to Fenrir with a tight smile. Without turning to look at her he laughs. She doubts he understands the frustration and self-pity behind her words. She still doesn't fully understand why she decided to take that portkey, to leave Albania. It feels like she left the only thing that made sense. The promise of adventure, a mystery to unravel, a beast to tame. And for what, to go to parties? To wear pretty dresses and banter with Tom Riddle?

Through the fog two boats emerge.

In one boat she can see four cloaked figures. The other boat, trailing behind, has the crates she helped Edgar enchant.

Her eyes narrow, wand poised toward the boat. She hears a sound, guttural and low. A growl. Fenrir has also turned his attention to the boats, his wand eminating a bright light, cutting through the fog.

"Something's wrong," he growls out, and she realizes that the fourth figure is slumped over. The other three wear masks, wands pointed toward them. A beam of light streams across the distance and Hermione steps to the side, a curse singeing the air as it barely misses her.

"It's a trap," she breathes out, following Fenrir as she fires off curses.

"They're Grindy's boys." Fenrir mentions as he jumps to the other side of the dock, curses still streaming from his wand. The cloaked figures apparate to the dock, and Hermione manages to stun one as he advances. The body plunges into the water, angering the other two.

She doesn't understand why Grindelwald's followers would ambush them. She doesn't understand how he still has followers, not after his defeat by Dumbledore only months before.

Oh.

"Dumbledore, they want Dumbledore." She shouts to Fenrir who only nods. "We have to lead them away from the castle!"

Hermione fires off a quick round of spells, before apparating herself in front of the cloaked man. She gives him an old-fashioned muggle elbow to the throat and subdues him enough to side along apparate back onto the boat.

"Marion!" Fenrir's voice booms from across the water, his face illuminated by a quick succession of curses. "Are you out of your bloody mind?"

She struggles to maintain her balance as the man comes toward her, realizing in fury that his wand had been knocked from his hand on the dock. She fires another spell, levitating him from the boat and into the water. In the commotion she doesn't notice the crates opening. A curse hits her arm, slicing through her trench coat. She looks up in shock as two more figures stand on the boat tethered to her own. She sends a slicing charm at the rope, severing the connection, but they have already began an assault.

Fenrir is at her side, rocking the already unsteady boat as water splashes up against the sides. A fire curse, not quite as insidious as fiendfyre, but just as damaging, is hurled at the boat. She gives Fenrir a look as the fire begins to spread, setting up a shield between themselves and the two men. A rope is hurled, wielded by a wand, catching her arm. It's cut, and then another is sent. A bombarda, an explosion. Blocked. Another one. A slicing charm. Blocked. Another one fired, cutting her cheek.