Hey there! I started writing this story a long time ago for own benefit, but I thought some of you might like to read it. This is just Hermione's point of view when they get captured and taken to Malfoy Manor, but it is not complete. If I were to complete it, Shell Cottage scenes would be included. If I get some reviews, I will complete it. Let me know and thanks for reading!
Of course I do not own Harry Potter. But I looooove it and give all credit to the brilliant JKR!!
CRACK!
"The name's taboo!" Ron shouts as we hear a loud sound outside. "I told you, Harry, I told you," he look absolutely panicked.
"We can't say it anymore." I mean, could the name actually be dangerous to say, after all the false speculations on the subject over the years?
"We've got to put the protection back around us—quickly—it's how they find—"
But Ron is not given a chance to finish his sentence. He is cut off by the hum of the Sneakoscope as it begins to spin. Now that Ron had stopped yelling, I can make out a soft murmur of eager voices, growing nearer. The lights go out, courtesy of Ron's Deluminator.
Oh, Merlin.
Could this actually be happening? All of our efforts to protect ourselves over the past several months—wasted? I already knew the answer, but my question is confirmed as an aggressive voice orders us to come out of the tent and informs us that he is armed.
Think Hermione, think.
There is not enough time to disguise all three of us. I must conceal Harry's identity. His is the most important to keep safe. Without him, Voldemort will never be defeated.
I point my wand directly at his nose. When he turns to look at me, seeking a solution to the urgent problem in front of us, I seize my chance. I think with all the concentration my mind can muster up, the name of the curse that will disguise him.
I am successful. A flash of light blinds my vision for a moment, but then I can see that Harry had fallen to the ground. He was now clutching his swelling face. The snatchers chose this moment to enter the tent. A brawny man I don't recognize kicks Harry harshly and tells commands him to get up. I do not get the chance to help him because another man grabs me by the shoulders and practically throws me out of the tent. I struggle, straining to see what is happening to Harry and Ron.
"Get—off—her!" I hear from several feet behind me. I manage to whirl around just in time to see Ron punched in the face by the stranger holding him down with unmistakable force. To my horror.
"No!" Dear Merlin, please let Ron be okay. "Leave him alone! Leave him alone!"
The man holding Ron down flashes his filthy crooked teeth at me in a menacing way. "Your boyfriend's going to have worse than that done to him if he's on my list."
Damn. This is no stranger. It is Fenrir Greyback. This sick pig is the reason that poor Remus is a werewolf.
"Delicious girl…what a treat," he continues. "I do enjoy the softness of the skin…" he trails off.
Please excuse me while I go vomit.
But there are more pressing issues than my newly nauseous stomach at the moment.
Because I am currently being shoved onto the ground beside Harry. "Now, let's see who we've got," came the Sick Pig's voice. He flashed the tip of his wand at Harry, and then burst into laughter. "I'll be needing butterbeer to wash this one down. What happened to you, ugly?"
Harry doesn't answer him and this time, Harry receives a hard punch. I bite my tongue to avoid screaming again.
Greyback repeats his question, and I hope to Merlin that Harry's come-up-with-a-lie-on-the-spot skills have improved. I hold my breath, wishing I could answer for him.
"Stung." Harry says. I exhale. "Been stung."
"Yeah, looks like it," someone else seems to agree.
"What's your name?" growled Greyback, apparently not convinced.
"Dudley." Says Harry. "Vernon Dudley." He clarifies when the Sick Pig asks his first name.
At least this is a step up from last time. If he had pretended to be Neville again, they would have certainly known he was lying.
Greyback turned to one of his companions and ordered him to check the list. He turned to look at Ron. "And what about you, ginger?"
Please, please Ron. Please come up with something we can work with!
"Stan Shunpike."
Oh, dammit. Did he have to pick someone currently on the side of the Death Eaters?
This is just my luck.
"Like 'ell you are. We know Stan Shunpike, 'e's put a bit of work our way." I can't see Ron's face now, but I am willing to bet it is falling into a panicked frown.
"I'm Barney," Ron's voice is muffled, a result of his bleeding mouth. "Barney Weasley."
"A Weasley?" Greyback raised his eye. I guess being a blood traitor is nearly as bad as being a muggleborn. "And lastly, your pretty little friend." The disgusting pig now turned his glance on my hungrily.
"Easy, Greyback," another man cautioned.
"Oh, I'm not going to bite just yet. We'll see if she's a bit quicker at remembering her name than Barney. Who are you, girly."
Oh, you bet I will be. "Penelope Clearwater." I state without hesitation. I tried to hide my panic as best as I could.
"What's your blood status?" he continues the interrogation.
"Half-blood."
"Easy enough to check." The other man's voice tells me that he is still very sure of himself. "But the 'ole lot of 'em look like they could still be 'ogwarts age—"
"We left." Comes Ron's blurred voice. Shut up, Ron! The only reason we would have left is if we were muggleborns!
"Left, 'ave you, ginger?" the man said. "And you just decided to go camping? And you thought, just for a laugh, you'd use the Dark Lord's name?" Uh-oh
"Not a laugh, an accident." Ron corrects.
It was most certainly not an accident. If we ever get out of this mess, I am going to kill Harry.
Greyback hit right on Target, when he concluded that we must be from the Order, and he commanded the others to tie us up with the other prisoners.
Wait, the other prisoners?
Someone picks me up by the collar of my shirt and drags me a few feet and then proceeds to tie Harry, Ron, and I to the other prisoners, whomever they may be. I am tied to Harry's left and I try to identify the person tied to my left, but I fail.
"Anyone still got a wand?" Harry whispers.
Both Ron and I tell him we don't.
"This is all my fault. I said the name. I'm sorry—"
"Harry?"
No! I can't believe that these snatchers have captured—
"Dean?" Harry is clearly as incredulous as I am.
I blur out the next part of the conversation, too preoccupied by my sudden dismay. Luna. Dean. Who else has been captured? Are we going to lose this war after all? What the hell is going to happen now?
I am pulled back into reality when Greyback's voice returns, informing me that Vernon Dudley is not on their list. He lowers himself to face Harry.
"So you aren't wanted, then, Vernon? Or are you on that list under a different name? What house were you in at Hogwarts?"
"Slytherin," Harry blurts without hesitation.
Very original, Harry.
"Funny 'ow they all thinks we wants to 'ear that, but none of 'em can tell us where the common room is."
I can sense Harry's relief beside me. Our mischievous past was bound to come in handy one of these days.
"It's in the dungeons," Harry says confidently. He delivered perfect directions as to where the Slytherin common room was located.
The other man, named Scabior, seems convinced with this and the lies that Harry feeds him about his father's employment at the ministry.
To my horror, a man is running out of the tent, holding—what else—the sword of Gryffindor. There goes our only method of destroying Horcruxes. I feel Harry stiffen at my side as gives a feeble excuse for his possession of the sword. His weak story is interrupted by Scabior's gasp as he looks at the Prophet. He walks over to Greyback to share this piece of information, unbeknownst to us.
Scabior sticks his nose in the newspaper and begins to read aloud "'Hermione Granger, the Mudblood who is known to be traveling with Harry Potter.'"
I try to compose my face. Greyback kneels down and he and I are face to face. I can smell his putrid breath.
"You know what, little girly? This picture looks a hell of a lot like you."
"It isn't! It isn't me!" I can't help myself. So much for my brilliant cover story and defense mechanism.
Alas, I have said too much because my confirmation leads Greyback to realize that the deformed individual to my right is the infamous Harry Potter.
I begin to shiver, and not from the cold. Greyback spots Harry's scar and a repulsive grin cracks on his face and he touches the scar.
"Don't touch it!" Harry shouts. Brilliant.
Oh, shit. If his scar is hurting, does that mean Voldemort is near?
That is all we need. A visit from Riddle. How lovely.
"I thought you wore glasses, Potter?" spits Greyback.
Thank Merlin Harry's glasses fell off when his face swelled.
"I found glasses!" sounds an excited voice. Alas, I spoke too soon. Greyback jammed the glasses onto Harry's face and decided that he, for certain, had caught Potter.
It was useless to try anything as the men discussed our fate. It looks to me as though we are doomed. I am trying to calm myself down so that I can formulate a plan, when they decide they will take us to the Malfoys' and we Disapparate.
Why the hell are we going to the Malfoy's. The last person I wish to see is Draco Malfoy. He would be more that happy to confirm Greyback's speculations concerning our identities.
With a crack we arrive in front of large gates. Is Voldemort here? I hope with all my heart that he isn't.
The snatchers appear to be at a loss on how to get inside the gates, and the gates contort and a face forms from the iron.
"State your purpose!" it says.
"We've got Potter!" Greyback's voice is eager and proud. "We've captured Harry Potter!"
The gates fly open and we are herded inside. I nudge Harry.
"Got any ideas?" I whisper to him, trying not to sound anxious.
He doesn't answer nor does he acknowledge my question. I strain to get a better look at his face. His eyes are rolling in his sockets and his face seems to be scrunched in concentration. What is wrong with him!?
The door opens and I recognize the tall blonde woman standing there as Narcissa Malfoy. Unfortunately, I am sure she will recognize me as well.
"What is this?" she says cooly. She is obviously wondering why this Sick Pig is wreaking havoc on her dwelling. I can't say I blame her.
She pretends not to recognize Greyback, just to antagonize him, I am sure.
I feel a jolt as Greyback turns us around so that Harry is facing Narcissa.
"I know he's swollen, ma'am, but it's 'im! If you look a bit closer, you'll see 'is scar." Comes Scabior's voice. "And this 'ere, see the girl?" I stiffen. "The Mudblood who's been traveling around with 'im, ma'am. There's no doubt it's 'im, and we've got 'is wand as well!"
Oh, contraire. For the first time, I find myself grateful that I accidentally broke Harry's wand.
"Bring them in." Narcissa said with obvious reluctance. "Follow me," she continues once we are inside. "my son, Draco, is home for his Easter holidays. If that is Harry Potter, he will know."
Oh, shit. Draco knows Harry too well to be fooled by my curse. And on the off chance that he is fooled, Ron and I are not disguised in the least. And every student at Hogwarts knows that the three of us are inseparable.
He has been our classmate for the past six years. Could he really just sell us out so easily?
We are led into a stunning drawing room. I register the figures of Draco and his father. If Draco would show us any mercy, Lucius sure as hell wouldn't.
Narcissa orders Draco to come over. Harry's head stays down. He is wise to not meet his gaze with Draco's. If Draco sees his green eyes, we are dead.
Draco stops about a foot away from Harry, eying Greyback with disgust. He doesn't seem to want to make eye contact either.
"Well, Draco? Is it Harry Potter?" Lucius Malfoy is just about to explode from excitement.
I close my eyes and hold my breath, anticipating Draco's response.
"I can't—I can't be sure," Malfoy says. I cannot believe he is hesitating! I exhale, shocked.
Lucius gives up with Draco and strolls over to Harry to see for himself. He scrutinizes Harry for a moment and calls Draco back over to confirm that he is correct in assuming the mark on Harry's forehead is his scar. Draco again seems reluctant to answer.
"I don't know," he says evasively and walks away once again. Why is he so hesitant? One word from him and we would be dead. What the hell is stopping him?
Narcissa says something to Lucius. She does not want to do anything hastily before they are absolutely positive of Harry's identity. She pulls out the wand that Ron had stolen from the snatcher.
"They say this is his," Narcissa muses, running her fingertips over the wand. "But it does not resemble Ollivander's description…" she trails off in thought and anxiety.
What has Ollivander got to do with this? Is this where the wandmaker was brought after he was kidnapped so long ago?
"What about the Mudblood, then?" Greyback spat.
I feel a jolt as we are harshly turned around a bit and now I face the interrogators.
"Wait," I see that flash of recognition in Narcissa's excited eyes. "Yes—yes, she was in Madam Malkin's with Potter!"
I gulp. She hears me.
"I saw her picture in the Prophet!" she continues. She grabs Draco's sleeve and yanks him over to stand as close to me as he was to Harry. "Look, Draco, isn't it the Granger girl?"
Unlike Harry, I allow my eyes to bore into Draco's grey eyes. But his grey eyes are not dark and cold as they normally are. There is something in his eyes that is out of the ordinary. Pity? Remorse? Fear?
I plead with my eyes, begging him to help us. Hoping that he will understand.
He seems to understand. He gives me a look as if to say but what can I do? He is right. There is nothing he can do. Nothing that anyone can do at this point to help us. We are goners.
"I…maybe…yeah." Draco seems reluctant to say that last part. He is only saving his own skin and I can hardly blame him.
Draco's gaze falls from mine. He is ashamed.
"But then, that's the Weasley boy!" yells Lucius. So much for the Spatergroit façade.
Lucius walks—no, strutts—over to peer at Ron. My heart sinks. I was hoping that even if Harry and I were discovered, Ron would be protected by the ghoul in his bed.
"Draco, look at him, isn't it Arthur Weasley's son, what's his name?"
"Yeah, it could be." Draco murmurs, with his back turned to us. As if he doesn't know.
Suddenly the door opens and I have to refrain from screaming. Voldemort himself might have just walked in and I would still be just as frightened as I am now.
"What is it? What's happened, Cissy?" comes the cold voice of none other than Bellatrix Lestrange. I can feel Harry's pulse quicken when he register's the voice, because our wrists are touching due to close proximity.
My heart is beating faster than I thought was possible when Bellatrix halts directly in front of me. Her wild, insane eyes beam with recognition also.
"But surely, this is the Mudblood girl? This is Granger?" she says calmly, but very excitedly.
When did I become so famous among the Purebloods? Oh yeah, when I disappeared, on the run with the most wanted wizard in the world. It is no secret that we were best friends at Hogwarts.
"Yes, yes, it's Granger!" Lucius shouts happily. "and beside her," he gestures to Harry's deformed and swollen face "we think, Potter! Potter and his friends, caught at last!"
"Potter?!" screams Bellatrix, now reflecting Lucius' enthusiasm. She goes over to Harry, clearly confirming what Lucius just said.
"Are you sure? Well then, the Dark Lord must be informed at once!" She yanks up her left sleeve and raises her wand to her oh-so-precious Dark Mark.
Lucius objects. He and Bellatrix begin a cat fight about who will get to summon Voldemort and by so doing, be praised by their master. The sick pig soon joins in, claiming he should receive the prize, for he was the one that found us.
This seemed to disgust Bellatrix. "Take your gold, filthy scavenger, what do I want with gold? I seek only the honor of his—of—"
She stops suddenly, looking at the object in one of the snatcher's hands, her eyes now a bit panicked. Lucius takes this moment of her distraction as a chance to touch his own Mark, but Bellatrix stops him.
"STOP!" she screams at the top of her voice. "Do not touch it, we shall all perish if the Dark Lord comes now!"
Of course! The sword! The sword was supposed to be safe from the use of anyone against Voldemort! Snape was supposed to have kept it safe.
"Give it to me." Bellatrix says. She is referring to the sword. The man holding it objects.
"Stupefy!" Bellatrix says happily, her wand pointed at him. When Scabior comes to his fellow snatcher's aide, Bellatrix stuns him as well. Now only Greyback, of the snatchers, remains conscious. No skin off her back.
Apparently, Voldemort had entrusted this sword with the venom, to Bellatrix. Oh, would she be punished if he knew. She has a dilemma. Good. More time for me to come up with a plan.
Only one problem. I cannot fathom any way out of here.
Bellatrix and Narcissa decide for the prisoners to be sent to the cellar. Greyback makes a motion to take us, but—
"Wait," Bellatrix says. "All except…except for the Mudblood."
My face heats up out of fear. But of course I will not object. For the time being, this means that Harry and Ron are safe. What could she possibly want with me? More interrogations perhaps? That would be the best. I hate to think of what they actually are planning to do to me.
Greyback grunts and bares his teeth in a smile. Vomit. He thinks he is about to eat me. But the others, however evil, are not as savage as he.
"No!" Ron objects. "You can have me, keep me!"
I feel my eyes well up with tears. How glad I am that I am not in his place. I do not have to watch him be left with the Death Eaters, while I head safely down to the dungeon.
I love him. I would give my life for him.
But I refuse to let him give his life for me.
I cringe as Bellatrix strikes him across his face. Audibly. "If she dies under questioning, I'll take you next. Blood traitor is next to Mudblood in my book." She tells him harshly. Oh, so that is why they take me. My life is worth the least. I vow at this moment to hold out as long as I can, so Ron will not be taken too. Anything for him.
Bellatrix cuts me free from the rest, right after Harry gives my hand a squeeze of hope, and I watch my best friends being herded down the stony steps that must lead to the cellar. I am happy, at least for now, that they are safe. Perhaps they will find a way out…
Bellatrix pulls my hair strongly until I follow her to the middle of the drawing room. She points her wand at me. "Crucio." She states matter-of-factly. As if it does not have awful consequences for me, the recipient of this deadly word.
I can't help it. I scream. What is there to loose now?
"HERMIONE!" I hear Ron yell from directly below my feet. He is in agony. He yells my name several more times and I fall to my knees, looking at the floor. Hoping he will feel that I am looking in his direction, willing him not to feel pain for me any longer. My eyes burn with salty tears.
"Get up girl, get up!" Bellatrix says to me, annoyed. And with an unspoken spell, she lifts me onto my feet once again.
"Where did you and Potter find that sword?" she asks me.
"We found it," I sputter.
"Do not lie to me, Granger. I shall kill you if you lie to me. You and your filthy blood are of no value here." Bellatrix glares at me while she says this.
"I am not lying, I swear," I continue, almost begging now. "There was a lake in the forest we were camping in, and one night, the sword just appeared in it!" I am not lying, though I edit the part about the patronus and our unknown helper out of my story.
"Likely story." Bellatrix is clearly not convinced. "I warned you not to lie to my, you stupid little girl. Crucio!" she yells with more force this time.
It hurts worse than the last time, if that is possible. I scream again as Bellatrix yells at me to tell the truth next time. She does not let up on the curse for what feels like a lifetime, though surely it is only a few seconds.
Ron's agonized voice comes again from below. I must not scream again, for it causes him pain to. That is not an option.
"I am going to ask you again! Where did you get this sword? Where?" She is begging with me now.
My body aches now. I cannot handle another bout of the Cruciatus curse. "We found it—we found it—PLEASE!" She must have done the curse again, because I am suddenly on the floor writing again. And—oops—screaming again too. It is more difficult to control than I thought.
"Please," I said as soon as she had stopped torturing me. "We were walking through the forest looking for berries, because we were hungry, and we saw a glint in the stream. And we pointed our lit wands at the water, and saw the sword there. So I jumped in the water and retrieved it!" I hope my story does not sound as though it has been made up on the spot, even though it has.
"You are lying, filthy Mudblood, and I know it! You have been inside my vault at Gringotts! Tell the truth, tell the truth!" She pointed her wand at me and against my will I screamed again.
Now I see how this curse has killed in the past. I begin to drift…
"HERMIONE!" I hear from below and it pulls me out of the slumber I was about to give in to.
"What else did you take?" Bellatrix continues when she sees that my eyes are open again. "What else have you got? Tell me the truth, or I swear I will run you through with this knife!" She summons a silver knife off of the drawing room table and points it at me threateningly.
I try to keep my mind even though I am on the verge of falling unconscious. So, there are other valuable items in the Lestrange vault. Surely, she does not care about gold. What else could she be hiding in there?
"Crucio!" She shouts again, and I bite my lip, but the pain is too terrible and I let out a scream again. "What else did you take, what else? ANSWER ME! CRUCIO!"
I do not know how long I have been screaming. It could be for the past five seconds. It could be for the past five years. However long, I am not stopping now because Bellatrix is pointing her wand at me in more concentration than ever.
I hear Ron screaming with me, only he screams my name. He is suffering right beside me. I look up, around the room for the first time. Lucius looks anxious, Narcissa looks annoyed, Greyback looks hungry, and Draco looks…like he would rather be anywhere but here. He does not wish to see me be tortured. His eyebrows are furrowed, like he is actually trying to think of a way to help us. How peculiar.
"How did you get into my vault?" Bellatrix demands. "Did that dirty little Goblin in the cellar help you?"
"We only met him tonight! We've never been inside your vault," I have no more strength to lie.
But wait. "It isn't the real sword!" I cry in desperation. "It's a copy, just a copy!" my story may be enough to stop the torture.
"A copy?" Bellatrix is unconvinced. ""Oh, a likely story!"
Lucius decided it was time to intervene. "But we can find out easily! Draco, fetch the goblin, he can tell us whether the sword is real or not!"
I am able to breathe, now for the first time in a while, finally free of the Cruciatus curse. For now at least.
"You better pray to Merlin that goblin tells us that sword is fake, Mudblood." Bellatrix growls at me with biting venom in her voice.
I hear Draco's voice in the cellar below. "Stand back. Line up against the wall. Don't try anything, or I'll kill you!" he says firmly. With transparent fear in his voice.
Yeah, right. Draco is too much of a coward to kill anyone. This may be his only redeemable quality.
I find myself hoping that Harry and Ron will attack Draco when he opens the door, steal his wand and come upstairs to rescue me. But alas, even if they could, they would be outnumbered by Death Eaters upstairs. I have changed my mind. I prefer that they stay safely downstairs.
I heard the door to the cellar slam, and—I can't be sure—but I think there was also a crack. The kind that sounds every time someone Apparates or Disapparates.
I hope for my best friends' sakes that they have found a way to Disapparate out of that dungeon. I could die happily, knowing that Ron was safe, and that Harry lived to conquer Voldemort.
Draco is coming up the stairs, dragging Griphook, the goblin. He looks resentful, not afraid. I have read that goblins are resentful towards wizards, even kindly ones.
"Well, goblin? Is this sword fake or is it the true sword of Gryffindor?" Bellatrix is staring at Griphook intensely. After a moment, he still hasn't answered and Bellatrix has become too impatient.
"Answer me! Crucio!" she yells.
"No!" I can't help myself. It is my doing that Griphook even was brought back up here. He shouldn't be tortured for my cowardice.
"Quiet, girl! Crucio!" Bellatrix now shouts with her wand pointing at me. I cannot help the scream that ecapes my lips. The pain gets consistently worse every time.
Through my pain, I can faintly register another popping noise below me. Lucius seems to notice too. "What was that?" he yelled. "Did you hear that? What was that noise from the cellar?"
Oh, please let them have escaped already. But knowing them, they would not leave me here to die.
"Draco—" Lucius hesitates. Seeming to realize that there is a possibility that his son amy meet danger in that cellar. "No, call Wormtail! Make him go and check!"
So Wormtail is here too? Who else is here that I do not know about?
Thanks for reading and let me know if I should finish it!