Secrets and Masks

40. Dragons bite

26th June

The letter they sent was simple and to the point:

'Dear Order of the Phoenix,

There's been a change in regime on our end, which we are sure is in your best interest, and we wish to arrange a meeting to discuss said changes, and also, how we move forward from here.

We request the presence of Ronald, Ginevra and Fleur Weasley.

Time and location up to your discretion.

Regards,

Medusa, and company.'

Hermione had written the note, and although Theo and Malfoy had insisted that she couldn't sign her name, or even tell them that she was safe - just in case the letter was intercepted - she hoped that someone might recognise her handwriting and would put the pieces together themselves.

After she'd finished writing it - with both Death Eaters hovering over her shoulders and tittering away like bloody owls- Theo took the note to the new rendezvous point.

That was the way meetings between Medusa and The Order had always been arranged. Once a week, on separate days, they would drop off any correspondence, and the other would pick it up. It was the safest option. It kept ambiguity on both sides, and meant that neither side knew the true location and identity of the other.

The notes used to be left in a derelict factory in Swindon, but after Hermione had been captured, the wise decision was made to change to an abandoned Post Office in Sheffield. This new building was just as war-damaged and begging to be torn down, but it served its purpose.

Theo had dropped Hermione's letter off the day after the groups 'team meeting', and it took almost two weeks before they received a response.

'East Midlands airport. Runway outside gate 1.

26th June. 15:30'

That was it. That was their bloody response. Nothing else. It gave her nothing. No idea if anyone had realised that she'd written the note, or if they even trusted the information in it.

Hermione's stomach had dropped the moment she'd read the response, and she'd been a bundle of nerves in the two days that followed.

She glanced at the new clock on her bedside table, the one she'd demanded that Malfoy get for her the moment she'd received the letter from the order.

14:30; she and Malfoy would be leaving very soon.

She chewed the inside of her cheek and zipped up her old mission uniform. The way the leather hugged her skin felt like a piece of home, a thousand times more comfortable than the Death Eater robes she'd been forced to wear in recent months.

She'd changed since the last time she'd worn this uniform, she realised as she stared at her reflection in the vanity table mirror. Her frame seemed a little smaller now, the material didn't feel as tight or uncomfortable around her waist. Her cheeks looked thinner and her hair was much, much longer, the ends almost touching her hips now. But it wasn't just the physical changes, she felt better in herself, a little stronger. True to his word, Malfoy had taken her off of the anti-magic potions and given her wand back, and the feeling of magic running through her veins again was indescribable.

Just being able to dry her hair herself with a wave of her wand, or light a fire with a single enchantment made her feel more like herself than she had in months.

She checked the clock again; 14:33.

Needing something to do with her hands, Hermione twirled her wand between her fingers and tapped her foot against the floorboards. Her head was buzzing. A hundred different scenarios were running through her mind.