Grandloves//Tomarry

17

Things come to a head when Lyra wakes up at an ungodly hour one Saturday morning with a distinct sense of purpose that definitely doesn't belong to her.

She shakes Hermione awake.

Hermione bats her away.

"Mione!" She hisses, tossing a wary glance at Lavender and Parvati; they are completely dead to the world. It's five in the morning—she wants to join them.

Hermione makes an unintelligible noise.

"You have an exam in ten minutes!" She shouts, and Hermione bolts upright.

"What?" She gasps, but then her attention turns to Lyra. "You liar." She scowls.

"Sorry, I had to wake you up." Lyra replies, totally unapologetic.

"You succeeded." Hermione harrumphs. "What did you want?"

"It's today." Lyra says, flatly.

"What's today?"

"His plan—it's today." She elaborates. "He's going to the Ministry today."

Hermione's eyes widened. She leaps out of her bed, dragging Lyra with her. "Why didn't you say something earlier?"

"I only found out a minute ago!" She protests, as Hermione wrenches open her drawer and garments begin to fly out of it with the force of her digging.

Lyra has no time to dress; she puts on the first thing she finds. It's a yellow sundress. She would find it more ironic if her life already wasn't some giant cosmic joke.

Hermione is already in the common room, working herself into a frenzy.

"Hermione," Ron groans, stumbling out of the boy's dormitory. "Do you have any idea what time it is?"

"Oh, nevermind that, Ronald!" Hermione snaps. "We need to move—now!"

"Move where?"

"The Ministry!" Hermione practically shouts.

Ron's eyes bulge. "Today?" He looks furiously between Lyra and Hermione's grim faces, before coming to the obvious conclusion. "Oh, Merlin."

"Exactly." Hermione agrees, succinctly. She turns to Lyra. "We need a plan."

Lyra blinks at her. "We?"

Her best friend turns to her incredulously. "You don't plan on going alone, do you?"

"Lyra!" Ron protests, stumbling down the stairs. "That's madness!"

"No—all of us going is madness." Lyra retorts.

"You're going to face him, alone?" Ron balks. They both turn to him with matching nonplussed expressions. He grins sheepishly. "Right. Bit of a moot point now, huh?"

Lyra sighs, slumping against one of the red and gold armchairs littered about the common room. "Honestly, it's probably best if I go by myself."

She pierces them with an austere, steady look. "He won't kill me. I can't guarantee the same for you two."

They both turn pensive, knowing that Lyra is right.

"Then tell someone," Hermione blurts. "Tell the Order—tell Dumbledore!"

"No way," Lyra shakes her head, not even bothering to contemplate that. "If Voldemort goes to the Ministry, personally—Hermione, that would be a disaster. I'm not going to lie to myself he's—

She swallows. "Dangerous. He's going to kill anyone who stops him and it's going to be a blood bath. I'd be sending them to die."

Her best friend eyes her warily. "But you shouldn't be going alone, either."