I hope our story has a happier ending

I saw you in the water

They spend the entire week before preparing; stressed and too anxious to sleep, the nervous anticipation ripples around them.

(It's visible, how on edge they all are.)

Hermione meets with McGonagall early in the week—careful, so careful about what she says.

"Our informant has reason to believe the Order should be on standby next Sunday—but they mustn't know we know about the invasion." Her eyes beg her head of house to understand—to know that if anyone suspects they were warned, her soulmate's life will be the price. "The headmaster will be away from Hogwarts that night; Order members should all be informed that they're merely on call in case anything happens to go wrong in his absence."

McGonagall nods in agreement, even as she begins to jot down a list of the strongest members in a duel, all of whom she'll send missives to in a bit. "I expect I won't be able to keep you and Mister Potter from the fight even if I try?"

Hermione's lips twitch. "Naturally. Well, Harry will be with Professor Dumbledore, actually; but yes, I intend to help protect the castle. I will also be informing ASA members of the situation, when the time comes, so that they too may defend their home if they wish."

The older woman raises her eyebrows, disbelief coloring her expression. "Albus is taking him off grounds, and you're not demanding to join them?"

"The situation is...delicate." Hermione scowls. "The mission they're going on—Dumbledore believes protective enchantments will dictate only one wizard may enter."

"Ah," McGonagall nods with understanding. "And you're of age."

"Exactly. Although...truth be told, I'd prefer to be here anyway. As much as I love Harry and want to be there with him, this is one night I think I'm needed at Hogwarts."

(They don't mention what they both know—that she doesn't just mean for the sake of the battle.)

/

Watch for the mark, Draco had instructed, and so she does; stares up at the sky relentlessly, getting up to face before being so anxious she can't help but sit back at the windowsill.

(Harry's been gone for an hour, now.)

Harry's half of the communicating mirror set Sirius had gifted his son is in the hand not gripping her wand; Luna's on the other end with Sirius, actively watching her skin for any word from Harry should things with Dumbledore go south.

(It's unlikely anything too bad could happen, but—)

(They're not willing to take any chances.)

The sky is full of dark clouds, like nature itself knows what's coming, wind speed steadily rising along with Hermione's blood pressure.

And it kills her to wait, to know what's coming and not be able to stand at the ready, but—

(To prepare would be to compromise Draco.)

Even if she were able to bear such a thing—to be like Cedric, strong enough to value the good of the many over the love of her life—the reality is that Draco being a double agent truly has saved so many lives—will only continue to be more and more crucial to saving others as the war grows.

(It's imperative for the good of the Order that no one suspect him.)

So she watches the sky, grinds her teeth and clenches her fists on the edges of the mirror as the storm swirls before her.

A crackle of thunder, and then lightning throws light over the whole sky, and then—

(She'd almost mistake it for another flash of lightning, if she weren't paying attention.)