This chapter was beta'd by the truly amazing Catherine Morgenstern. Thank you, dear heart, you'll never know how grateful I am.
Chapter One
Hermione didn't know why she'd agreed to go to Hogsmeade with Lavender Brown. They weren't even friends. Not really. It was more like two people who were forced together, simply because they knew each other and had some of the same friends. But the main reason was that Lavender had been going out with Ron since the final battle. The two of them deciding that they were madly in love in the space of a few hours. And that was why they had to be friends. Because of Ron. It didn't seem to matter that they didn't like each other very much. So that was how Hermione found herself on her way to Hogsmeade, Lavender Brown in tow.
Above, the moon sat like a fat bloated disk in the sky, gilding the landscape in silver shadows. They had special permission from McGonagall to visit the village, specifically to meet up with Ron and Harry. Who neither of them had seen since the term started weeks ago. Both boys had chosen not to return to Hogwarts after defeating Voldemort and his Death Eater army. Instead opting to train as Aurors. Hermione thought it a foolish decision, but she was actually quite enjoying not having the boys around. She'd always seemed to turn into a bossy nag when they were near and often felt more like their mum than their friend.
This year, her final year of schooling, she was determined to enjoy herself. To drown herself in books and homework. To study without the threat of death at every turn and the constant oppressive fear that had saturated the air and crept into her lungs. But nevertheless, she did miss Harry and Ron, hence the reason she'd allowed Lavender to talk her into going to Hogsmeade.
They walked side by side, mainly in silence, Hermione listening to the scuttling sound of night-time creatures as they began to forage for food. It was cold, not horribly so, but enough that their breath made white plumes that floated behind them like banners. They were early because Lavender had wanted to visit a place one of her friends had been talking about. Again, Hermione hadn't wanted to go, but she'd been curious about this exclusive club she'd never heard of.
It was called(:) The Silver Blade. The name alone was seductive and evoked images of danger, blood and sex. Not that Hermione was interested in any of that. A book was more likely to make her orgasm than a man at this point in her life. And she was more than sick of danger and blood. But she was curious about this place.
They reached the cobbled outskirts of Hogsmeade and made their way to the centre of the village. The Silver Blade was exactly where Lavender's friend had said it would be. Behind a thick, iron-banded door and next to, of all things, a bakery. Lavender skipped forward and knocked on the door.
They waited.
And waited.
Then, just as Hermione was about to turn to Lavender and suggest they leave, the door swung open. Lavender was the first to enter. So fast that her long blonde hair almost whipped Hermione in the face as she passed. Sighing, Hermione followed her through the door and into an empty, square room.
The interior was painted a matt black with swirling patterns in silver, sprinkled across the floor, walls and ceiling. It managed to be both classy and new age trash at the same time. Opposite them, a solid black door led into, what Hermione guessed, was the club. She could feel the thumping base, making the floor vibrate and her teeth with it. And when that registered, her eyes widened in surprise. She had never heard muggle music played in the wizarding world before. Not once. When she glanced at Lavender, she saw that the witch's blue eyes were stretched wide in astonishment.
To the left, a rectangle had been hacked out of the wall, showing a small room where rows and rows of rails held expensive-looking robes. Next to this opening, a silver-painted door shone dully, lit by the single light dangling from the ceiling. Lavender was already knocking on the door.
A few moments passed before it opened, showing a purple-haired wizard with pale skin and maroon lips. It made him look diseased and Hermione fought the urge to take a step back.
He didn't say anything as he eyed them both assessingly. They must have passed whatever test he had, because he then indicated they should follow him. He led them into a room that looked suspiciously like a storage area and grunted, "Wait here."
"My god, I think I might be in love," Hermione whispered as he closed the door on them.
"Mmm...well, we can't all share your low expectations, can we?" Lavender mumbled in a smug voice.
Hermione ignored her and walked to a corner to perch herself on top of a bunch of stacked boxes. "So, when exactly do we get into the club?" Hermione asked a puzzled-looking Lavender.
"Never," said a man' voice from the doorway.
Hermione jumped up in surprise, placing a hand to her chest as if to check that her heart was still beating. She hadn't seen the door open and from the sound of Lavender's startled gasp, neither had she.
"You scared me!" Lavender yelped.
Hermione agreed but didn't say anything, a little freaked out by his sudden appearance. The first thing she noticed about the wizard was how tall he was. The top of his head almost touched the door frame. Thick black hair reached his waist, hugging his absurdly muscled body. His skin was pale and sweaty and reminded her of the underbelly of a fish. Cold blue eyes assessed them both impassively.
Hermione didn't like him. Something about him made dread pool in the pit of her stomach. She edged forward until she stood next to Lavender.
She had never wished to be somewhere else so much in her entire life. Well, maybe during the final battle. She had definitely wanted to be somewhere else then.
"So we don't get to go into the club?" Lavender asked. Her voice had a tentative edge that spoke of how nervous she was.
The man bared his teeth in what Hermione thought was supposed to be a grin only it never quite made it. She suddenly had a very bad feeling. Enough so, that she palmed her wand in readiness.
The wizard took a step forward, bringing him fully into the room and swinging the door shut behind him.
"Actually, we've changed our minds," Hermione said, staring hard at the man. "We want to leave."
Beside her, Lavender pouted. "Hermione, I don't want to leave yet."
Hermione turned to her in disbelief and caught the end of an eye roll. Something the girls at Hogwarts had often gifted her with. Was Lavender really that dumb? Hermione had always thought that maybe the blonde witch had acted stupid on purpose. That it was actually a clever way of manipulating people into doing what she wanted. But now she was starting to think that Lav-Lav really was stupid.
Hermione frowned at her, wondering why this wasn't freaking her out. The blonde seemed a little uneasy but not truly worried. And she should be. Hermione could feel the danger saturating the air.
"Yes, Miss Granger, you won't be leaving yet. But don't worry, I'm not going to render you both unconscious for at least thirty seconds." He smiled that same cold smile, but it was the utter seriousness of his voice that scared the crap out of Hermione. Even Lavender paused uncertainly before sputtering out a nervous laugh.
Hermione stood frozen, unsure of what to do next. Her wand dug into the palm of her hand reassuringly.
"Twenty seconds," he mocked, breaking the uneasy silence.
Hermione was not sure which of them moved first, Lavender or her, but suddenly they were both lifting their wands. A Stupefy fell from Hermione's lips.
Nothing happened.
She tried another, as did Lavender, but again nothing happened.
Their magic wasn't working. They might well have been pointing sticks at the wizard instead of wands.
Hermione thought frantically as the wizard huffed out a laugh. Was the room warded against the use of magic? Or were their wands not working correctly?
It didn't matter now. They had to get out of the room. They both rushed to the door. Which would have been a good idea, if there hadn't been a hulking wizard in front of it.
Lavender reached him first, and he tossed her aside like she weighed nothing. She hit the wall like a rag doll and fell to the floor in a crumpled heap. She didn't get back up.
Hermione screamed and hit him head on, kicking and punching like a demented boxer.
It was like hitting a brick wall. She actually hurt herself more than him. In fact, she knew she did because he didn't even flinch when her fist slammed into his flesh.
It wasn't until his hands were wrapped around her throat that she realised they were just as large as the rest of him. He squeezed, crushing her windpipe with almost gentle force.
Hermione was dimly aware that her feet were kicking his shins and her fingers were scratching frantically at the hands circling her neck. Neither seemed to bother him, so she tried clawing at his face instead. Her lungs burned fiercely in her chest and her heart thumped so hard in the cage of her chest that it actually hurt. She was starting to see black spots dancing across her vision.
Before she passed out, she heard him muttering a foul word, and prayed that it was because she had scratched one of his eyes out.
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