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Chapter One - Old Faces, New People
Hermione's Point of View
Pen in hand, Hermione looked beyond the window in her dormitory and to the pallid moon, blank and faceless in the clear night sky. The homework on her lap was unfinished and due in for the next day, but Hermione didn't care. She leaned her head against the bedpost and sighed. It was her eighth year and everything seemed to be falling in around her. If she closed her eyes, she could imagine it had all been some kind of nightmare, but immediately she opened them, reality rushed in. Dumbledore dead. Sirius dead. Her parents… dead. She was old enough now to not go to a Home, but the pain still lingered, and she much preferred the prospect of Hogwarts, that safe haven, than a cold flat trying to fight someone she couldn't see.
In her thoughts she wondered where Harry and Ron were. Ron hadn't been seen since the Summer Holidays, and she knew him to be neither dead nor alive. Mrs Weasley had been hysterical, and though there was the possibility he had gone to join Harry, all clues pointed towards a kidnap. A kidnap… with no ransom note. And as for Harry, he had left even before then leaving behind a heartbroken Ginny. No one knew where he was. And Hermione… Hermione was almost past caring, knowing they had left her without a friend. Why hadn't they asked her to come along with them? Why was she here in a cold, almost deserted castle that no longer held any warmth? Why was she sitting there with a pen seized in her hand, trying to write a note about an unruly child when she knew that whatever she did, they wouldn't learn a thing?
Hermione Granger was a teacher at Hogwarts. She hadn't applied, hadn't even asked for the job, but Hogwarts was desperate. Minerva McGonagall was desperate not to shut it down, and as the other teachers fled, Hermione had been asked to take up the position as Defence Against The Dark Arts. She knew that she hardly stood a chance. Seven years of schooling, and she'd never been able to match Harry. But it was the best she could do outside of the Order.
Harry had gone almost a year previous. Hermione knew this because she saw a vacant eyed Ginny every day, making the ritual at the dinner table by saying how many days he'd been gone away. There'd been no sightings, no news. Only a declaration from the Dark Lord himself, proclaiming Harry Potter to be defeated in their last duel. Whether this meant dead or not, Hermione couldn't say. And she didn't want to know.
Harry, Ron… even Ginny, had left her. Whether for a better place or not she couldn't tell, but she was on her own.
She looked up at the moon again, at the velvet sky, and she growled to herself.
"Hermione Granger? You're better than this. You're going to go out there, and get 'em."
3 months later…
Hermione was following an earlier report of a sighting of a Death Eater. In the darkened alleyways, she could see another full moon. Whenever there was one, she looked at it, and smiled; it reminded her of when she had started the chase. Now, she felt, she knew Harry's determination. She knew why he had been so determined; because there was nothing left for him, and whether there was for her, she couldn't tell - but it felt like it. And so now she was an Auror, whether the Ministry knew it or not. She didn't take the Death Eaters she caught to a higher office. Their lives ended with her. That was the sort of person Hermione Granger had become, willingly or not.
She was scared, and a little exhilarated. That had been the way for months. But it wasn't just that. She supposed you could call it… the thrill of the chase. Her eyes were bright with the fact that, whoever her quarry was, they were weaker than her. Hermione didn't need telling. She just knew. She had never thought as a naïve schoolgirl that she'd ever learn the ways of a darker life, but Hermione knew such complex, powerful spells now. Such dark ones, known only to the worst filth that walked the earth…
Hermione knew she was getting carried away with her life on the edge, with hating everyone because they'd left her, but she couldn't stop. She so badly wanted to avenge her friends that she convinced herself that she was doing the right thing. A part of her was still a trembling schoolgirl, but that had almost gone away. A feeble whisper now and then… but gone, as soon as she concentrated. She didn't care how far she fell now.
She rounded the street corner into another alley where a stray cat was yowling. Immediately it saw her, it began to purr and it jumped down from it's place on the rubbish bin, knocking it over and rubbing itself against her legs. She cursed, knowing that any slight disturbance could ruin her mission. She looked at the cat, wand out, ready to give it the final killing curse, and then she faltered. The wand was stowed away again as she picked the cat up and held it in her arms like she used to with Crookshanks.
"I'm sorry," she breathed. Sometimes, these things happened. Sometimes she stopped, and she remembered; that was what stopped her from going completely insane. She stopped, and felt a sense of hopelessness overcome her. She leaned against the wall of the house and let the cat fall to the floor; it landed on its feet and stalked away again, uncaring.
"I can't do this anymore," she whispered to the air. "This isn't me…"
"Well, well, well. What do we have here?"
She whirled around to feel the tip of a blackened wand against her throat. She recognised the voice and detested it. The platinum blond hair was the most obvious trademark, and the cold eyes. They were full of vindictive pleasure and malice; the kind of thing people might mistake for evil. But Hermione knew Draco Malfoy, and though that was her first thought of him, she knew he didn't have the mental strength or power to even begin to be given the name 'evil' with honour.
"A Mudblood on the outskirts of Suburbia, back against a wall in a deserted alley," he said idly; "a bit… daunting, for one such as yourself, don't you think?"
"You don't know what I am, Malfoy," she hissed; "I'm a whole new person, and I was following you."
"Ah," said Draco, "well, you've found me… or is it me who's found you? Tell me, just before I kill you, how it feels to be deserted and lonely… orphan… bit like Potter, really, only half as good…"
"It feels different," she snarled, "and it's made me change. You should be scared, Malfoy."
"…But having second thoughts… I heard…"
Hermione was still for a second. She gulped visibly, but her eyes were still burning bright with strength. "Do it then, Malfoy. Go ahead. Fire. I'm an un missable target, so for god's sake just kill me!"
That was the first time Draco paused. Then the wand was forced sharply against her throat, so hard blood began to trickle down her neck. For a moment, her gaze met with Draco's and held. Cold fire against dark determination… and the wand was lowered.
"No… I don't think I will."
Hermione looked at Draco in disbelief, sure her last moments would have been staring him in the eye. Then he smiled, and it held no sympathy or remorse, just evil pleasure.
"Would you like to come and see Weasel-Bee and Potter, Granger?"
X
Ginny's Point of View
Hermione, where are you? There have been stories about you, and no one is sure what to believe. I'm not sure I want to believe. I don't believe you have it in you - and I don't mean that in a bad way. I mean it as a compliment, because when I knew you, you were full of a good determination, even after your parents died in that arson attack. I admired you, Hermione. I looked up to you because you were intelligent, and so ready to love and look at things positively.
And now I've heard the stories, and it's horrible - but I'm so glad I'm not you, now. I'm so glad I could never become like you.
I don't want those thoughts, but it's not my fault I'm having to suffer them. You made yourself the infamous person you are. The Ministry's not doing anything about you, because they know you are catching Dark Wizards - and where's the harm in that? I guess they just turn a blind eye to the fact that whenever you catch one, the criminal is never given to them alive. In bits, maybe.
That's because they don't know you like I do. They don't know how wonderful you are, how brilliant. They don't know what your potential could have been and they don't love you as a friend. I've felt all of these things for you. And now you've ruined it.
I hate you.
Ginny walked down the road, wiping the tears from her eyes, wishing that her life could be turned around and that the nightmare could stop. She hadn't heard from the brother she loved or the boy she loved in around a year now, and she couldn't help but feel hopeless. After Hermione had left school, Ginny had followed pursuit. She had gone back to the Burrow, where her family was. The remnants, anyhow. But it just wasn't the same; the spirit had gone from the house. Molly Weasley was always crying; Arthur Weasley was always out at work, and Ginny didn't blame him. Coming home to the house was like stepping into a graveyard. Fred and George were dealing with the times in a different way, trying their hardest to find new ways of defence to sell in their shop. They kept the merriness.
Ginny herself had got a job. She was a trainee Auror. She hadn't taken her NEWTS but the ministry were so desperate they had begun to recruit any willing volunteers for their work. They sidestepped actually calling them Aurors by putting 'Trainee' in front of it, but it was the same thing.
She opened the door of the Burrow and strode in. Tonks and Remus were in the Dining Room, talking to each other happily. They were the light in the dark, because they always managed to have a smile whenever close to each other. Ginny walked up to the table and sat down with them.
"Hello, Tonks. Hi Remus." She said, leaning into the table. She looked out of the window at the setting sun and commented casually, never sure whether it was a touchy subject, on whether the Professor had taken his potion or not.
"Indeed I have," said the Professor, smiling. "So, how's your day been, Ginny?"
"Nothing," said Ginny. "Nothing at all. Sometimes I wish I was chained up in a dungeon or something with Voldemort standing beside me; at least then I'd feel like I was getting results. I'm off duty for the weekend, and why not? I've got to catch up on -"
The fire roared into life and a head, that of Mad Eye Moody, appeared in the fire place. Mrs Weasley burst in with Arthur behind her, looking avidly at his face.
"Sorry to drop by like this," said his scarred, mutilated face; "Ginny, we need you. There's been a development in Ron's case. We think we know where he is and there's a chance there could be a commotion. Can you meet the normal party by the clock tower outside Demstin Alley?"
Being an Auror, Ginny had common knowledge of the streets. Mrs Weasley jumped at the mention of Ron's name. "No, Ginny," she began, "I forbid you! Think of the danger and… oh, Arthur, we have to go, too!"
"Mum, I'm not a kid anymore! I've got a job as an Auror and I intend to fulfil it. And no, you and Dad can't come with me. You're thought of a civilians, and if I invite you along with a load of other ministry members, it won't matter if you're from the Order; you'll be forbidden to enter the premises!"
Her mother gaped for a moment, opening her mouth and resembling scarily a goldfish. She was mouthing words that weren't coming out. Ginny nodded to Mad Eye, pulled her coat on again and flicked her wand. She apparated without a second glance at her family - and for once she didn't regret it. This could well be the last time she saw them, but it was the only way she'd even have the opportunity to go. She had to see this to believe it. She had to see if her brother was still alive.
The cold air in the alley whipped at her face. She fell in amongst a silent crowd of black robed people, many more than those who were in the Order. She looked to the huge Clocktower, and heard Moody's instructions with a keen ear.
"We infiltrate the place in silence. I want thirty of you to ring the tower and make sure no one escapes. A party of ten, and only ten, goes into the Tower… that is: Kingsley, Edna, me, Howard, Parvey, McMillan, Abbot, Bones, Corner and Andre…"
Ginny froze. She hadn't heard her name. Without thinking she strode up to Mad Eye Moody and glared at him. "You forgot me." She snarled, keeping her voice low. If she had shouted it would have ruined the venom anyway.
"No, I didn't, Weasley," Said Alastor, eye twirling. "You'll be outside. Can't have you causing a commotion if there's anything… nasty in there."
Ginny felt the anger rise. But she waited.
Half an hour later
Ginny ran from her position around the tower, resisting the restraining hands pulling her back. She flung herself at the door, kicked it open, so it fell, swinging off its hinges. She dashed tears from her eyes ran into the imminent darkness around her, determined to find her brother. Where was he? Where could he be? She didn't care for Mad Eye Moody's instructions. Blood was thicker than that, and love was thicker than blood. She ran down staircase after staircase; it seemed right. Down, not up. Up involved escape over the roofs, out of windows… suicide. A Dungeon allowed no escape.
It didn't occur to her as odd that she encountered no one in her flight. Legs and arms aching, wand trembling in hand, she ran down staircase after staircase, determined to be reunited with her brother. Finally, she came to a door. She faced it in anticipation, not fear. Was this where her brother was? The hope was too much as she pushed down on the handle slowly. Slowly was the only way to go about it. She was unable to do it fast; unable to do anything in more than slow motion. The door clicked, and without her even pushing it, it swung open unbearably fast; which was something she knew she should be scared about, even before she saw the contents of the room.
No one was in there. At least, it seemed that way - apart from the carpet of bodies. A carpet of bodies that Ginny had been with moments before, in a cluster of them. With trembling fingers she reached out to turn the head of a man she thought she knew the name of. His eyes were wide and glassy, and there was no smile on that face. He had a purple hat in his hands; and that was when it clicked. This man was Dedalus Diggle. She'd never taken him seriously… until now.
Something moved behind her, and she twirled around. Dark shapes materialised; condensed, before her eyes. She ran, through to the next room, the black shapes in pursuit of her. But as she entered the next room, she couldn't help but stop and stare at the prisoners, in crates. Packed up like one of Fred and George's order boxes. Stored close together and kept away from the sunlight like some kind of vile chicken shed. The smell was horrendous. There were so many vacant eyed prisoners, all with empty heads, filled with lies, fed by magic. She knew it to be the Imperius Curse; she'd seen the diagrams in her training to become an Auror.
Walking into the centre of the room, Ginny let herself be seized by at least five pairs of hands. The black shapes were now unmistakeably Death Eaters. She felt no terror, only a deep sorrow that she was never going to see the light of day again.
A voice hissed beside her ear.
"You were the afterthought, were you? The messenger they sent in to find out where all your other pals had got to?"
Another voice, that had a cold, almost feline quality laughed. Ginny saw the heavy lidded eyes of Bellatrix Lestrange. "Why, Crabbe… don't you see the resemblance? Red hair and freckles - a trademark Weasley characteristic. Oh, what fun! We can add her to our collection. So that makes two down, seven to go. Oh well, you have to start somewhere I suppose…"
"Get a crate ready for this one. We wouldn't want to kill such a pretty face, would we?"
"I don't know…"
Ginny suddenly snapped into life in retaliation to their comments. "Where's Ron?" She hissed. "WHERE IS MY BROTHER!"
"The kitten can roar," commented Bellatrix; "oh, don't worry, pretty little kitty; your brother's nearby, and quite safe. Of course, I'm not sure he'll be able to recognise you once you finally get to see him…"
Ginny was forced into a crouching position unwillingly. She was stripped of her wand and her dark cloak that kept out the cold. With at least six wands to her throat, she had no choice but to sit and look at her captor's eyes. Bellatrix smiled down at her. "I wonder," she said; "how long it will take for you to go insane…"
Words were muttered, and then came excruciating pain. Ginny writhed on the floor, knowing that it would never stop until she lost her mind in the inferno, which seemed such an easy thing to do. Somewhere in her brain, she comprehended the loud explosion and the white light; and perhaps even an hour later, she registered the absence of renewed pain. There was just the old. She lay on the floor, unaware of the rubble that piled on top of her. Unaware, completely of the two bodies lay beside her. She heard conversation: and finally, she opened her eyes.
What she saw nearly made her close them again. For there, wand pointed at Lestrange's neck, was an unmistakeable figure, thin and gaunt after almost a year of captivity - but with eyes that burned and twinkled with hate and hope.
"You leave off her, Bellatrix, or I won't have a choice."
"How…"
The figure sneered. "You're not what you used to be. Face it, Lestrange. You're never going to be Voldemort's favourite again, not now. Not after letting one of your prisoner's escape by leaving a wand on the floor. Careless. And now, you're going to get out of here peacefully, with all your little buddies over there, and say to Voldemort that I'm back. And you make sure you tell him that, to the letter…"
Ginny looked wide eyed at the Death Eater's tied up in the corner of the room. With a flick of his wand, the figure made Bellatrix join them; and then he flicked it again. The motley group vanished. Ginny tried to get up from the rubble, tried to say something, but there was only tears. She cried as he helped her up. There was a clicking sound as all of the cages, piled high, were opened. The figure patted her on the back in an almost embarrassed way.
"It's okay, Gin. We're… getting out of here."
The door opened, and they departed, followed by an array of dazed looking men and women and children. Ginny couldn't help feel relieved. She hadn't found her brother. But she'd found something just as good, and she felt like half of her missing heart was being re-stitched, back into her body.
"I can't believe it's you…"
Author's Note: Hope you like this rather long first chapter! Hermione's point of view will be next chapter which should be written next Saturday, as I can't do the weekdays as I have SATs. Which sucks. But anyhow, please review. I hate it when I realise my story's had loads of hits, and people who enjoyed it just could - not - be- asked to review. Even if you hate it, that's okay. Just tell me why you hate it… that'll be fine.
I'm going to develop Hermione and Draco much more next chapter. I realise it might be at least a few chapters till they finally admit something, but it should be getting more exciting as it goes, especially now I've introduced our newest, nameless character of whom I'm sure you can guess the name of.
Now, another comment: please read my 'The Sky Is Crying' story! I was infuriated when I realised I only had two reviews, because I literally TOILED over that piece of writing. Also, Hogwarts World of Worried Wizard Folk Grade Seven is also good, as is Summer's Child. Those are my best, and if you feel inclined to read them, please do… but if you do, be sure to review. PLEASE!
Thanks,
Strange Principles… or SP!
