Plot: Hermione gets lost on a trip working as an auror and comes across a mansion which isn't as empty as she thought and filled with secrets she can't begin to comprehend. More importantly though, the place seems too, naggingly, familiar.

Part I: Rated T

Part II: Rated M

Part I

Chapter 1

It was collapsing with rain, slapping heavily and mercilessly against Hermione as she struggled through the darkness. Her robes were so drenched that they trailed on the soggy ground, tripping her up. A flash of lightning and an ominous-sounding thunder grumbled overhead amongst the relentless rain. Bedraggled and desperate, Hermione held her wand alight trying to make sense of her whereabouts. Where was she? How could she have gotten so lost?

This was meant to be one of her usual routine trips as part of her Auror duties. Normally, Hermione would have a partner with her but she had foolishly said she would do it on her own. The instructions after all had been very simple. So deceptively simple she thought she could take a shortcut through an area she had never been before. Ever the stubborn girl, Hermione shoved her wet hair from her forehead holding her wand in front of her as if in self-defense against the rain. The forest loomed threateningly but in the near distance she could make out the faint sight of a small clearing. She stumbled forward, desperation building as the rain poured down insistently.

Coming up the path she paused momentarily when she saw a massive, desolate-looking mansion rising up from the darkness. That was strange, she didn't think there would be any habitable places close by as the nearest town was miles away. Hermione, though, was drawn immediately to it despite its pitiful appearance. Its days of grandeur seemed to be a distant memory as it stood rather forlornly in the midst of the rain and forest.

It was definitely not muggle Hermione thought, as she could feel the rippling of enchantments surrounding it. It was like a castle from a fairytale but covered with moss, drooping from neglect and with a decrepit, dilapidated look. It seemed completely uninhabited without a single light stemming from its numerous darkened windows.

Oh what the hell, Hermione thought – she better seek refuge from the rain quickly. Stepping up to the front door she pushed it open and it swung quietly, somewhat menacingly, at her shove. She hesitated in the entrance and scanned the area. Being an Auror and having gone through a war had taught her to be overly cautious. She had a slight unease about the place, like a little fly buzzing behind the ear, but decided there was little harm in hiding from the rain in an abandoned house. After all, it would only be until the rain let up and she could figure out what to do. Not seeing anything suspicious at first, Hermione lit her wand and wandered further in. Her eyes opened wide as she cast them over what was once an enormous and grand, beautiful living room.

It was so imposing with its thick carpets, covered heavily in dust, big paintings with its inhabitants missing, elegant furniture strewn over the whole room with careful precision but looking like they had never been used in ages. Hermione shut the door behind her and without the sound of the whirling storm outside, was thrown by the complete silence that greeted her. "Hello?" she called out. Her voice echoed along the hall. She didn't really expect a response but waited carefully, appraising the whole room, eyes going up to a grand staircase that led to the upstairs floor. She wondered who had lived here and why they had left.

She walked through the hall and up the staircase, sliding her hands down the gold handrails now laced with cow-webs. She heard a sudden scuttle and froze, her foot about to step on the next stair. A rat ran across the wood, a few stairs ahead of her, its red eyes gleaming in the light of her wand. Hermione shuddered and only then felt the chill that was seeping in through the walls and beneath her drenched clothes.

She wandered back downstairs and towards a fireplace that was so unkempt she briefly wondered if it would work. Flicking her wand she was glad when a roaring fire started up, sending immediate warmth to its surrounding. Shuffling closer, Hermione cast a drying spell on her clothes, and wrung her hair out, letting the droplets of water trickle down the nape of her neck. Sighing with relief she sank as close as she could to the fire and rubbed her blue hands together, watching them go white and then finally flush as blood rushed into them.

Pitter patter.

Hermione's stomach lurched and she whirled around. Had she made that sound up or were those footsteps? It certainly was not the rain that had made that noise and it sounded like it had come from within the room. Maybe it was just another rat, though, the noise sounded a lot heavier than a rodent. "Hello?" she called out again. She withdrew her wand and held it in front of her fearfully. The silence greeted her thickly.

A few minutes passed, though it felt like only a few moments, and Hermione turned to the fire again basking in its warmth. She couldn't shake the suspicion that she was being watched. The walls seemed to whisper menacingly around her- there was something creepy about this place as if it was hiding a brutally dark secret. Suddenly, Hermione heard another noise directly behind her. She gasped, stumbled around and faced the room again. A tin rolled slowly toward her from the darkness stopping at where she was kneeling. Shakily she picked it up and noted that it was cat food. Studying it further, it registered in her mind that it was just freshly opened, the top looking as it if was bitten into in order to reveal its contents. She didn't have time to look at it further before she saw a flash of grey fur and snapping her head up came face-to-face with a rather curious cat.

Oh My God. Hooman!

Hermione shrieked and dropped the tin. She held her wand ahead of her and studied the cat closely. It was a beautiful silver grey and had shiny green eager eyes.

Hooman? Hooman! You're a Hooman.

It began to dawn on Hermione that it was the cat that was speaking. "Hello", Hermione said cautiously. She thought she saw a smile on its face as it started prancing around her, sniffing her eagerly.

My name is Masher, it says proudly.

"Hello Masher. My name is Hermione."

Hey minny.

"No, no my name is Hermione. Her-mine-ee"

The cat proudly crooned her name, still incorrectly, coming closer and rubbing its head against her. It was so gorgeous and silky that Hermione could not help but stroke it gently. The cat obviously enjoying being petted was purring desperately. "Who owns you Masher?"

Masher looked confused. No one owns me Hooman.

Poor cat, Hermione thought rubbing the top of his head. Abandoned and all alone in such a gloomy place. She wondered for how long. Perhaps it had not been so long considering there seemed to still be cat food. However, the place looked like it hadn't seen the warmth of humans in over a decade.

Her stomach suddenly grumbled and Masher's ears pricked up at the noise. Turning around he indicated with his head that Hermione should follow him. The young brunette hesitated, but as he scuttled away she cautiously took his lead and followed him down the long hallway and into the furthest room which turned out to be a kitchen. He didn't stop as he went further in and into a pantry. Hermione stopped short when she saw that it was stocked to the brim with food that looked like it could last years and years. Had whoever lived here abandoned it for some reason?

Oddly, the kitchen looked lived-in and suspiciously used. Her eyes immediately fell on a pot of cream chicken soup sitting closest to the pantry door and she forgot about her doubts as her stomach grumbled again. Apparently being lost made her work up a huge appetite. She picked the tin up and used her wand to heat the soup up on the stove. Waiting for it to boil she cast her eyes over the rather clean kitchen, drumming her hands on the cold, white tiles of the counter. That's odd. In a place that looked so abandoned the kitchen stood out in sharp contrast with its cleanliness. The hairs on the back of her arm raised themselves slightly.

She didn't think much of it though as the soup began to bubble. Once it was prepared, Hermione gobbled it up and felt its warmth sink into her stomach and all over her body. She sighed, feeling much better immediately. With a much clearer head Hermione decided to explore the place more and see what else she could find out about this empty house. The curiosity she had since a child, never gone, urged her to find out a bit more. She went back through the main room into what looked like a dining room. The room was long and expansive with a huge oak-wood table in the middle that looked like it could sit thirty people. However, it was covered with dust and looked woefully dismal and unwelcoming- like everywhere else.

She wandered back out and through to another door which she found was another living room. Once again she was taken aback by how much it was caked in dust, grime and cow-webs. Finding nothing she went back out and kept searching, but room after room was empty, desolate and inhabitable. Reaching the final room, she walked in and froze suddenly. The feeling of deja-vu, that had been nagging her in the back of her head, crashed into her like a sudden wave. She knew this place.

Her skin tingled and goosebumps spread up her arms. The room crawled with filth but it looked exactly like the day she had first been in it.

-Flashback-

Lying on the floor, pain spreading through her arm. She was weeping desperately, lips bleeding from where she had bitten down to prevent herself from screaming further. She writhed as another flash of pain thrashed through her. The pain was unlike any she felt and her arm felt like it was going to explode. She felt so numb, the agony so excruciatingly biting, as her mouth hung open in a silent scream.

A loud cackle howled around her and there was a flash of thick bushy black hair.

Hermione shuddered as she woke herself from the terrible flashback. No fucking way, was all Hermione could think.

Surely, she would have recognised it from its front? She began to realise, as painfully distant memories that had been locked away so severely, resurfaced that she had never really gotten a good picture of the front of her place of torture. After all, it was not like she had been given a tour.

She felt something brush her legs, nearly jumping out of her skin in fear, but looked down to see that it was only Masher who had refused to leave as she explored the house. "Masher?" she asked slowly, not sure if she wanted to know the answer and careful to use the right words this time, "Does anyone live here?" Maybe they had gone forever.

Well of course Hooman.

Masher walked further into the room all the way to the other side, before sitting down and gazing adoringly up at the wall. Hermione hesitated, not ready to step into a room that was the cause of so much pain and suffering. Finally and very warily, she entered and stole quietly to where Masher was. Hermione realised that it was a painting that had captured Masher's attention; a huge painting but hidden in the shadows, shrouded by the same darkness of the rest of the house. The closer she drew, though, there was no denying the unmistakable figure that looked backed at her silently: Draco Malfoy.

Author's Notes:

Excited to start my first story on here having plotted this for a while (while taking a shower). I look forward to hearing your responses and will post next chapter shortly!