The Disappearances of Draco Malfoy

Chapter 24: The Battle of Azkaban

"Ron!" Hermione shrieked, running hot on Harry's heels. Ron gave a shout of recognition. Then the three collided in a crushing embrace, and tears burned Hermione's eyes as she clung to her two best friends. Behind them, the Order was already walling up the door again.

As Kingsley had led them through the secret Apparition point, as they had battled their way through the ground floor of Azkaban, Hermione had been terrified that they would arrive to find the revolt overwhelmed, Ron dead—or worse, Kissed by the Dementors. Now, when the three broke apart, Ron's somewhat gaunt face was split in a wide grin. "That you, Harry?" he said, for Harry was—as usual—under Polyjuice. "About time you two showed up."

Ron's eyes fell on an approaching Draco, also under Polyjuice as a mousy-haired man in his mid-twenties. Azkaban's halls had taken a heavy toll on him; he looked bloodless, his brow shining with sweat.

"Weasley," he said with a good try at his usual drawl.

Recognition spread across Ron's face. "Malfoy. Can't Polyjuice out the way you talk."

"Apparently," Draco said. Then, after a pause, he and Ron nodded and exchanged a brief handshake. Hermione traded a relieved look with Harry. There was no time for animosity or grudges here.

It had been difficult to determine the situation within Azkaban. On their way through the dark, dripping halls, they'd had to fend off bands of Dementors, and had broken into fighting with two clusters of Ministry workers—but the bulk of the Azkaban guards seemed to have chased the Ministry into the upper floors. The screams and sounds echoing down through a stairwell they'd passed had been enough to turn Hermione's blood to ice. Kingsley had visited the prison enough times to know exactly where to find the nearest entrance to the yard, and with Professor McGonagall's Transfiguration to aid them, they'd been able to uncover the concealed door.

Now, those who had been wounded in their push through the prison halls were being tended to by the door. Luna had taken a hex to the side that looked like a third-degree burn, and Fleur was sprawled on the gravel, Bill and Kingsley treating a deep slash down her arm.

Elsewhere, though, reunions were taking place. A huge cluster of Weasleys had formed, which Ron and Harry now joined, and Lee Jordan had tackled a skeletal Oliver Wood and Angelina Johnson. Lupin was embracing a massively pregnant Tonks near a man whom Hermione assumed was Tonks's father. Despite the Order's summer meetings, Hermione had never met him in person.

She was studying Ted's kind face when the man's eyes suddenly went round. Hermione followed his sightline. A figure had drifted out of the crowd of prisoners, attracted by the new commotion. For a horrible instant Hermione thought it was Bellatrix Lestrange—the dark hair, the haughty, high-boned features... but no. This woman had a softer, kinder face, a mouth that had not spent years twisted in disgust.

"Is that..." Hermione breathed to Draco, who had stiffened at her side.

"My aunt," he said slowly. "Andromeda."

Now Lupin, Tonks, Ted, and Andromeda were huddled together. "How long h-have you been here?" Ted was weeping, unable to stop big tears from running down his cheeks.

"Months. They found me just after we were separated." Andromeda's eyes were bright, but she did not cry.

Hermione glanced up at Draco. "You've never met her, have you?"

"No. I've only ever seen her in one or two family photos. The ones that weren't"—his lips thinned—"fixed."

"She looks like you."

Draco didn't answer, his eyes riveted on his aunt, uncle, and cousin.

It struck Hermione then how similar their circumstances were to Tonks's parents. Tonks had told Hermione once that Andromeda had been disowned before she'd turned twenty, on the cusp of the first Wizarding War. In marrying Ted, she'd been left penniless, friendless, adrift. It was the same fate that awaited Draco, when they admitted the truth of what they were to each other.