Lightbringer

3

Hermione

"We need to start acting again," Lupin complained in a manner he would never have dared before the war. "We are already acting," shouted an agitated Molly Weasley.

The air was tight, and the approach of the next tournament stressed every member of the Order.

"Just recently, we attacked, now it's time to stay still.Don't you think so too, Hermione?" Mrs. Weasley said with a slightly calmer voice.

All heads turned to Hermione sitting at the end of the table, twirling her wand in her hands. Of course, she knew they had to act again, and she also knew that the members of the Order needed a break. For ages, they were getting nowhere.

"We lost so many of us in the last tournament, and it was still unorganized then. We can't allow the same again. Think about your daughter," grumbled Lupin.

That was enough. He had crossed the line. Molly Weasley's face turned bright red. She grabbed her wand and aimed it threateningly at Lupin. "Think about my daughter," she screeched, "I think about my daughter and all my family members constantly. You know exactly how many I've lost. You know it."

Lupin also drew his wand. His eyes showed he was ready to fight, but before any of them could curse the other, Hermione slammed her palm on the table. Arthur Weasley soothingly laid his hand on Molly's, and Tonks shook her head as Lupin looked in her direction.

"That's enough now; you're behaving like children. In times like these, we must never point our wands at each other," she tried to give strength to her voice, although she was also exhausted. She laid her own wand aside.

Severus Snape, sitting to the right of Hermione, rose from his seat. As her trusted adviser, he helped her in these situations. His sharp, calm voice cut through the tense air.

"Miss Granger is right; if we start tearing our own throats apart, we're obviously not far from doom. Though in this discussion, I agree with Lupin. The tournament is drawing near, and the grand finale is supposed to shine at this one."

Alastor Moody cleared his throat, "What does that mean, then? What do you know that you're not telling us?" Severus looked at Hermione, and she just nodded. Of course, she knew.

Snape had told her a few days ago, but she hadn't the courage to tell the others yet. "In the second Death Eater tournament , the Dark Lord plans not only to have all remaining prisoners at Hogwarts killed but also to give his new chief general the power of soul-splitting."

Some of the others flinched, and Hermione could feel the weight of their gazes. If the chief general split his soul, there would be no turning back. Over the past months, he had become more ruthless than ever, driving the Death Eaters relentlessly and killing hundreds of his own people.

"But why now?" Bill asked, furrowing his brow. Snape sat down. "Snape and I could only speculate about it, but we assume that if Voldemort allows his chief general to split his soul, it's to instill terror among the others, to strengthen his own power. Already, the chief general is nearly unbeatable, and I reluctantly admit that if he splits his soul, this war will become even more brutal." Hermione explained.

Murmurs spread among the few survivors. It drove Hermione almost crazy. She wanted to throw everything away, go to her small room in the Order's headquarters, and willingly expose herself to the Killing Curse. But she couldn't.

She looked at Ron, who gave her a firm nod. They were fighting together. They were fighting for Harry.

"However, we will win. I won't allow us to die, and that's why I decide that we plan our next attack," Hermione concluded. Bill laughed, but it didn't reach his eyes.