Azael's Chains

Aftermath

Despite the early May sun in the sky, Hermione was bitterly cold. She huddled with her surviving classmates, no longer struggling against her invisible bonds. This was it. She knew it, but held her head high anyway, chill-pale fingers tangling in Ron's shaggy red hair in her lap. His breathing was shallow, but that it was present was enough for the moment. He was now all she had and she would cling to him with everything in her.

She wondered, as the last of the survivors were rounded up and set into the group around her, whether they were about to be mass murdered. The thought wasn't necessarily frightening; a part of her had expected to die somewhere along the way. She had accepted that when she realized she would be going with Harry on the mission Dumbledore set for him. Hermione was a muggleborn, the very thing Voldemort swore to eliminate. And she was a realist. Her life was not as important as Harry's and, had she been able, she'd have put herself between him and the curse that cut him down.

But Harry had out maneuvered her, and he laid dead while she sat among the rubble. At least she would join him soon.

Hermione's thoughts began to stray toward her parents and their unknowing loss of their teenage daughter, but before she could tread far down that route, she jerked her head and refocused on the world surrounding her. The chill in her fingers, the dirt on her clothes, the constellations over Ron's cheeks and nose. That was safer; the other led to insanity.

It seemed adults were being separated from the students, with some exceptions. George, empty-eyed and arms folded into himself, was placed among them while the other Weasleys were set aside.

The ruin of Hogwarts was oddly silent, the Death Eaters slowly falling quiet as their opposition was subdued. There was a heavy static weighing the air, awaiting something.

A soft cry drew her attention back to Ron. His brows were knit, jaw firmed, but he still slept. She smoothed back his oily ginger hair and shushed him. "I'm here, Ron. I'm here." The crease between his brows slowly eased and he was once more peaceful.

If only she could open her bag and find something to give him, but it was somewhere in the chaos and she was unable to move much as she was. With neither it nor her wand, she felt bare, stripped, small.

Shuffling fabric whispered and boots trod. The crowd parted as the monster himself entered the clearing. He was tall and thin, stretched white snakeskin over a prominent skeleton. The harsh black of his robes did nothing to soften his appearance despite covering what was undoubtedly a matching frame. Scarlet flashed as he surveyed the prisoners.

"Only one Weasley gone?" His nonexistent brows lifted as the deep, sibilant voice wriggled through them. "I am almost disappointed." Nervous chuckles from his followers. "What to do with all of these survivors?"

He considered, gaze once more roving them, this time more individually. When his eyes hit upon her, Hermione suppressed a shudder and instead firmed her jaw in defiance. His amusement was palpable. "Bellatrix, Rodolphus, Rabastan, Antonin, Augustus, Corvus, Theodorus." Each name contained the unspoken command and the seven swept out of the crowd and knelt before him. "You seven most loyal of my followers. What would you have me do with our prisoners?

Hateful Bellatrix spat her answer first. "Kill them all." Her shriek was expected, but pierced Hermione's ears all the same.

Their lord's reply was laughter. "And you, Rodolphus? Do you agree?" The other man shrugged and his brother nodded. Voldemort canted his head in question at the others.

"If I may, my lord?"

"Ah, Augustus. Of course." He gestured for the man to continue.

Rookwood, Hermione thought as the fair haired man sidestepped to better see the Hogwarts students. "As you said before, my lord, magical blood is precious. And these children, while many fought against us, did no more than their parents taught them. Can we not recover them, or make the attempt? Here there are the progeny of many wizarding families; Longbottom--" Neville was unconscious and being held between Luna Lovegood and Susan Bones-- "Jordan, Bones, Macmillan, Smith, even the Weasleys. To have so many families snuffed out for the actions of a few would be tragic."