Flight of the Stars

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Disclaimer: I picked an obscure ship because I'm not afraid of a challenge, but that doesn't mean I own it! Just the computer, absolutely nothing else, because I'm broke. (What, like it's hard?)

"Can you hear the drumming?

There's a revolution coming."

~ Revolution by The Score

o-0-o

They'd done it. Against all odds, they had accomplished what everyone had said they wouldn't.

Hermione couldn't hide the thrill in her eyes, the skip in her heart, as she gazed at all of the kneeling Knights. Normally, this amount of power would scare her, but her hand found Tom's, and the gentle pressure he exerted on their interlaced fingers gave her courage.

Her eyes scanned the room, took in the flickering torches, the stone walls that exuded a chill, the highly arched ceiling, and she frowned. "Where are we?"

Her question seemed to break the spell holding everyone transfixed, and Abraxas rose to his feet, his easy smile already in place, although his eyes were tight with tension. "Our new headquarters, my Lady. Malfoy Manor. We've been compromised, I'm afraid."

Malfoy Manor. The words hit her like a Bludger, and she remembered, remembered everything, Bellatrix, the knife, the blood, the screams, and she suddenly realized she was shaking. Tom put an arm around her waist, his voice low enough that no one else could hear, "We're not in the drawing-room. I believe we're in the library."

The library. Not the drawing-room. Focus on the details. No chandelier. Arched ceilings, but they weren't intricate. And, now that she took in the room in its entirety, she saw bookshelves completely lining the walls, windows looking out into an expansive garden. Her vision cleared, and she released a shaky breath.

Abraxas frowned at her. "Are you alright, my Lady?"

"Yes," Hermione said impatiently, in an attempt to hide how much she'd been trembling, although she couldn't hide the quaver in her voice. "But what do you mean, we've been compromised?"

He pursed his lips, his gaze furtive. "If you don't mind, my Lady, I'll tell you later."

She paused, then nodded, her mind working. "That's fine. And enough with the formality; we're friends here."

He grinned, and Hermione's eyes found a set of unfamiliar dark ones.

"Who is this?"

The woman stood up, poised like a cat. She was certainly as trustful as one. Her hazel eyes were narrowed to slits. "My name is Anya Bulstrode." Her voice held a faint Russian accent.

Hermione nodded. "Are you here to be inducted?"

Anya Bulstrode paled, strangely enough. "Not at the moment."

"Take your time, Anya," Hermione said. "I'd much rather you join our ranks by your own free will than for you to be forced."

The use of her first name seemed to startle Anya, who just scowled. Then she glanced beyond Hermione, and she went whiter than before, if that was possible. Her lips drew back in a snarl and she flicked out her wand, leveling it at something behind Hermione. "Why is he here?"

"Oh! I'd almost forgotten." Hermione turned and put her arm on Grindelwald's. "Everyone, meet our newest ally, Gellert Grindelwald."

The room descended into chaos. Rufus was holding Anya back, keeping her from using her wand. Many Knights were shouting, and Lucretia swayed, looking like she was about to faint. Cecily was staring at Hermione as if she'd never seen her before.