A/N: I posted this story under the title 'The Light and the Dark' about a year ago. After rereading it, I don't really like how the story developed. So, I'm reposing. This chapter is nearly identical to the first two chapters of the previous story. From here on out, it will change pretty drastically.
The page breaks represent a change in perspective, from Draco to Hermione.
Thank you for reading! Please review if you like it or if you think I can improve on something.
I hope you enjoy! More coming soon, I promise.
CHAPTER 1: MEETING
A busy street corner, central London, throngs of people rushing past one another trying to find the quickest route to work. He watched them, leaning his back against the marble façade of the building behind him. Taking a drag of his cigarette, he looked up at the sky, the milky white, low, oppressive London sky. He exhaled slowly. He could feel the their eyes on him, looking him over head to toe. He was not entirely displeased—better to stand out than to blend in.
He wore a black collared shirt buttoned up to his neck, black trousers, and black leather boots. Odd, considering it was summer and the humidity hung in the air like smoke. His fair blonde hair was longer now than it had been when he was a boy, nearly to his shoulders. Subconsciously, he ran his fingers through it, pushing it away from his face. The longer hair softened his pointy features, tan from a year spent in the sun of southern France. His eyes though – those striking steel blue eyes – were as harsh as they'd ever been. He took another drag, watched the smoke disappear slowly into the air. It was nearly time. He pushed himself from the wall and began slowly walking towards the gates.
Suddenly, a body slamming into his side jerked him away from his reflective thought. A woman – small, blonde – had rounded the corner too quickly. She dropped the stack of papers she was carrying on impact.
'Oh, bloody hell…' she muttered, steadying herself. And then, scanning the man she had ran into, she flushed and looked down. 'Oh Malfoy! I didn't see you… I'm so sorry. Please don't…'
'Stop,' he cut her off. 'Just watch where the fuck you're going next time,' he mumbled through clenched teeth.
He shook her off. She scurried away, leaving her papers to fly into the busy intersection.
Bloody hell. I'm not ready for this, Draco thought, flicking his cigarette into the street.
It had been a week since he arrived back in London and he'd already tired of the fear he saw in the eyes of anyone he looked at. They think I'm a monster, a predator ready to devour my prey. Or else, they hated him. Hatred and fear, it was all he got. Hatred and fear used to make him feel powerful. Now, they only made him feel empty.
Switching sides at the end of the Battle of Hogwarts had kept Draco and his parents from a life in Azkaban. But, they didn't get off without punishment. His parents were sentenced to two years of house arrest. During this time, they were not allowed to use magic, their wands were taken away, their actions monitored by the Trace. To the heirs of one of the oldest pureblood families in Britain, the sentence was nearly as bad as death. Draco had struck a deal with the Ministry, he was neither on house arrest nor deprived of his magical abilities. Instead, Draco had promised to continue to studies under the supervision of a Ministry approved tutor.
The Manor was seized by the Ministry following the Malfoy's sentence. Lucius and Narcissa were permitted to collect some of their prized possessions and family heirlooms, but the remainder of the wealth within was distributed to the victims of the war. Without a place to call home in London, the Malfoys retreated to their country estate in Nice. Here, they lived a peaceful, though completely boring, life. Draco went to class with his ministry-approved-tutor Mr. Reid from 9:00am to 5:00pm. In the evenings, he would roam around the French countryside. It was because of this ridiculously mundane existence that Draco decided to move back to London.
And so, there he stood, on a busy corner during the morning rush to work, smoking a cigarette and sneering at the unfriendly faces who happened to catch his eye. If you asked him whether or not he was nervous, Draco would have told you a Malfoy is never nervous because a Malfoy is always prepared. Truthfully, though, he felt that familiar knot in his stomach as he descended the stairs to the toilets.
'Are you nervous, Hermione?'
'No, Ronald. I'm only about to start my first job. Why on earth would I possibly be nervous?'
'Touchy, aren't we?' Ron replied, looking to Harry for some support.
'Look, don't be nervous Hermione. You'll be with Kingsley all day. He'll watch out for you,' Harry reassured her.
The three best friends were walking along the river on their way to the Ministry. Because it was Hermione's first day, and because she was admittedly a bit nervous, Harry had offered to walk her to work. Ron had put up a bit of fuss, arguing that Hermione actually had been to the Ministry before, many times, and under much more stressful circumstances. But something about walking in muggle London made Hermione feel calm. And so, together, they walked.
'I wonder who the other trainees will be?' Hermione asked for the hundredth time as they began walking north, away from the river and towards the toilets.
'Hermione, you know we're not allowed to tell you. Besides, Kingsley only told us about one of the trainees. He wouldn't say a thing about the other,' Harry explained.
'Maybe the third is another woman?' Hermione quipped. It wasn't that she didn't love Ron and Harry, but sometimes Hermione felt she lacked any real female friends. One would be a good place to start.
'I doubt it.'
Hermione cast Ron a threatening glare.
'What!? Tonks was the only female Auror in the last decade who lasted more than a week or two,' Ron exclaimed. 'And you of course, you definitely will too,' he added for good measure.
After the war, after everything had settled down a bit, Harry and Ron had both begun Auror training. Because the stringent qualifications to get into the program had laxed following the war, Harry and Ron's lack of N.E.W.T.s didn't prevent them from being accepted. In fact, it hadn't prevented many eager young students from being accepted. Kingsley, the new Minister of Magic, had declared that any individual who had successfully fought in the Battle of Hogwarts met the qualifications necessary to become an Auror. Excited at the prospect, a few dozen students had enrolled in the intensive program. Few, however, made it past the first few months. Some failed because they became exhausted, others because they didn't enjoy the work, and some, because they simply weren't skilled enough. Left behind from the new recruits were Harry and Ron, two Hufflepuffs from their year, and a Ravenclaw from the year above.
While the boys learned to fight bad guys, Hermione had gone back to Hogwarts, back to her former home, to complete her seventh year. Now, rather than pursue her own personal ambitions, Hermione vowed to devote herself to rounding up the remaining Death Eaters with Harry and Ron.
As they neared their separate entrances to the Ministry, Harry paused and hugged Hermione.
'Don't worry. You'll do great. We'll see you at lunch,' Harry reassured before joining the queue for the men's toilets.
Ron gave her a quick pat on the shoulder and bid her good luck. As Ron took his place behind Harry, Hermione took her place among the women.
Following an unpleasant journey down the sewer, Hermione walked into the Ministry for the first time in nearly a year. It looks different, she thought, feels different.
A new large statue stood in the center of the lobby; gone was the celebration of pure blood supremacy and domination over muggles which had occupied the space before. In its place was a large but simple disk made of grey concrete, hovering a few inches off the ground. From the hollow center of the disk came a three meter wide column of white light like a ray of sunshine reaching its way up towards to the domed roof. So powerful was the light that Hermione could not see through it to the other side of the Ministry. And inscribed on the disk below, Hermione read: 'Happiness can be found even in the darkest of places if only one remembers to turn on the light'. Hermione sighed, remembering the old wizard whose words were here quoted. His crescent shaped glasses, his long white beard. His words now stood as a reminder that the Ministry, the headquarters of magic in Britain, was the source of light, that which eliminated the darkness and fostered happiness and peace.
'Admiring our new statue, are you?' The low voice startled Hermione, who had been lost in her own thoughts.
'Oh Kingsley! I didn't see you come up. It's beautiful,' Hermione relied.
'Good to see you again Miss. Granger. I trust you're well?' Kingsley stood now facing Hermione, extending his hand in greeting.
'Very well, sir. And you?' Hermione replied, shaking the auror's hand.
'Good as can be,' Kingsley said, turning now to face the floos filled with arriving workers. 'The others should be here any minute and then we'll get started. Ah! Here's one of them now,' Kingsley gestured to a young man approaching the duo.
'Mr. Morris, pleasure to see you again. May I introduce you to Miss. Hermione Granger,' Kingsley said as the wizard came closer. Kingsley gestured to Hermione, 'Miss. Granger, Mr. Alexius Morris.'
'Just Alex is good,' Alexius said, extending his hand to shake Hermione's.
'Pleasure,' Hermione replied.
"Well, then, there's just one more. Fewer than last year. Although that's probably a good thing, we had our hands full with that lot' Kingsley rambled as he looked around the final recruit. 'Ah, and here we are,' Kingsley continued, gesturing now to a certain fair haired, darkly dressed young man who, with an air of confidence boarding on cockiness, walked up the group.
Hermione couldn't help but gape, eyes wide in horror as she evaluated the man approaching them.
'You've got to be kidding me,' she murmured under her breath. She felt certain that another person, the real new recruit, would step out from behind her former classmate any second now.
'Mr. Malfoy, good to see you. This is Alexius Morris, and I trust you remember Hermione Granger from Hogwarts,' Kingsley said by way of introduction.
Draco reached his hand towards Kingsley.
Hermione couldn't help herself as the words boiled up in her throat, 'Mr. Shacklebolt, I don't mean to be disrespectful, but you've got to be kidding. Draco Malfoy!? He's a Death Eater!'
She flushed as the words rush forth, more aggressive than she had intended them to sound.
'Nice to see you again too, Granger,' Draco snapped, fixing his face with his signature sneer. 'Oh, and you can take your hand off your wand now. I'm pretty sure Shacklebolt won't let me hex you in the middle of the Ministry.'
Hermione's blush deepened. She hadn't even realized her hand had instinctively fallen to her cloak pocket, instinctively reached for her wand.
'Miss. Granger,' Shacklebolt reprimanded, 'I would like to remind you that Mr. Malfoy is a former Death Eater who has proven himself worthy of this position, just as you have.'
Hermione looked down, ashamed. She prided herself on level-headedness, her compassion and empathy for those unlike herself. But him, he she could not forgive. Regardless of the fact that he was a Death Eater, Malfoy had tormented her and her friends at school, he was a bully, a liar, an evil, conniving ferret. She looked back up at him, hatred radiating from her eyes.
But Malfoy just smirked, 'besides,' he said, 'who better to catch a Death Eater than a Death Eater?'
Literally anyone else, Hermione thought. This time, she was able to keep her mouth shut.
'I feel like I'm missing something here,' Alex piped up, looking from Hermione to Malfoy.
'There's no time to explain now,' Kingsley interrupted, 'You'll have many opportunities to become fully acquainted with one another as your training commences. For now, we are already running late. For our first lesson, we'll be heading to the dungeons. Follow me, please.'
The three new Aurors, led by Kingsley, stepped now into an elevator. They slowly descended into the depths of the Ministry.
Draco took the moment of quiet to contemplate the situation. He knew Potter and the Weasel would become Aurors, but he never thought Granger would. More brain than bronze, he'd have thought her self-righteous, know-it-all attitude would have prompted her to do something more intellectual.
Of the famous trio, Draco hated Hermione the most. He considered quitting, right then and there, on the spot, before the lesson even started. Anything to avoid that snobby and pretentious girl who had made his life hell at school. But, quitting would be foolish. And Malfoys were never foolish.
Draco had always dreamed of being an Auror, but the life into which he was born interfered with those goals. All Draco wanted now was to redeem himself, to prove he could do good, prove he be good, good enough for himself, good enough for anyone. In his darkest hours, when the world was quiet but his brain awake with memories, Draco loathed himself, loathed what he had allowed himself to become.
For the past few years, Draco had felt like his entire world was crumbling around him. Everything he had been raised to believe had proved false. Everyone he loved he'd nearly lost. Everything he thought he was, it was just an illusion.
Now, Draco had to rebuild himself. No, quitting now was not an option, even if meant spending time with Granger.
Draco snapped out of his head when the doors opened, a mechanical voice announcing 'Basement Level 10: Courtrooms.'
The group stepped into the narrow black hallway, the one Draco had walked down to face his prosecutioners.
'Welcome to the courtroom of the Ministry of Magic,' Kingsley's deep voice echoed through the enclosed space. 'Just down this hall here are a group of cells where we keep prisoners from Azkaban who have upcoming trials. This will be the location of your first lesson. Now, can anyone tell me what is special about these cells?'
Draco sneered when he saw Hermione's hand shoot up above her head.
'No need to raise your hand Miss. Grander,' Kingsley smiled at her pleasantly.
'The cells are protected by the Hades Charm,' Hermione began, 'which prevents anyone in them from using magic.'
Draco rolled his eyes, goody two-shoes, everyone knows that.
'Very good Miss. Granger. The Hades Charm can be used in any enclosed space to ensure that those within will not be able to use magic—wands will not work, wandless magic will not work, potions will not take effect, animagus cannot form,' Kingsley explained, 'no magic at all. Except, of course, this book.' At that, Kingsley held up a small, black, leather-bound book.
'On each page of the book is a set of instructions. Only after one set has been followed completely, does the next page appear. Please follow me,' Kingsley led the group further into the depths of the Ministry. He stopped beside a large, metal door frame.
With a flick of his wand and no doubt a lengthy unlocking charm whispered under his breath, the door swung open, revealing a small, dark cell. Draco knew that cell.
The three students entered. Draco watched as Hermione and Alex looked around the unfamiliar surroundings. He himself, turned back to Shacklebolt, who waited on the other side of the threshold.
The dark room was about five feet wide, five feet across. The walls ran upwards extending as high as the eleven floors of the Ministry. The ceiling was clearly just an opening, revealing the white sky above. The fact that one could see freedom made escape seem possible, tormenting the mind of one trapped inside, who, without magic, had no means of acquiring it.
Kingsley handed the book he was holding to Draco.
'You will find the first instruction on page one. You may now begin your first lesson.' And with those words, Kingsley shut the door, the sound of metal grinding against metal echoed. Draco looked around quickly, seeing nothing but pitch black. Black. Stuck. Trapped. He was trapped in the cell again. Panic filled him as he felt his heart beat quicken, straining to break free from the walls of his rib cage.
'Lumos', he heard a male voice say.
'No magic,' Draco and Hermione said together. He sneered again.
'Well shit,' Alex's voice rang clear through the silence.
And then Draco realized he would be forced to spend the next however many hours in a dungeon with Hermione Granger.
Hermione looked around the black void. Immediately, she felt her heart rate increase, her palms sweat, and a familiar sinking feeling in her gut. Fear. She backed up against the nearest wall, running her fingers alone the solid surface. Through the darkness she heard a hefty sigh.
'Don't worry Granger,' Malfoy's voice was off somewhere in the distance, the opposite corner, perhaps. 'I'm not going to hurt you. I can't, no magic, remember?' His voice sounded tired, exhausted really. And somehow vaguely reassuring.
Hermione felt the fear evaporate and in its place she felt something entirely new. Guilt? Embarrassment? Pity? She couldn't fathom why she would suddenly feel pity for this monster. Soon enough, Malfoy spoke again and the pity was replaced by repulsion.
'Of course, I could hit you. Get back at you for third year,' Hermione could hear the smirk in Malfoy's voice.
She sighed. 'Just give it here Malfoy,' she said referring to the book.
Typical prat, thinks she's the only one capable of reading a bloody book, Draco thought. Rather than pass it, he opened the first page.
For a moment, nothing happened. And then, the page started to glow as an elegant illuminated gold script scrawled across the page. As the others moved closer, Malfoy opened the book wider. Now, they all stood in a huddle surrounding the soft yellow light, their faces brightened by its glow.
Draco began to read:
'In Hades' land you now do dwell,
To escape my world, the tides must swell.
Lethe, Styx, and Acheron,
Cocytus and Phlegethon.
Your names will glow at each step passed,
To help you along, learn trust fast.'
Draco looked up, watching the others as they attempted to decipher the words.
Hermione kept her eyes on the page.
'What do you think it means?' She heard Alex's voice by her side.
Before she could answer, three names appeared at the bottom of the page. Her name was first: Hermione Granger, written in her neat, small handwriting. Next was Alexius Morris, his looping letters clearly different from her own. Lastly, Draco Malfoy, written in beautiful cursive. To think something so graceful could hail from the same hand that held the wand which killed.
'Greek Mythology,' Hermione heard her voice before she'd even realized she'd spoken. 'Hades, the lord of the underworld. His land was guided by five rivers: Lethe, the river of forgetfulness; Styx, the river of hate; Acheron, the river of lamentation; Cocytus, the river of woe; and Phelgethon, the river of fire.'
Hermione looked up to see Alex and Malfoy's bewildered expressions.
'How'd you know that?' Alex asked.
'Get used to it, mate. She knows everything,' Draco replied.
If it wasn't for the clear annoyance in his voice, Hermione could have sworn Draco was complementing her.
'The idea is that when you're in a world without magic, you're in hell.' Hermione clarified.
'So, what do we do now?' Alex prompted.
'I think we just need to follow the instructions,' Hermione answered, 'Malfoy, turn the page.'
Malfoy began to read:
'I am the river of Lethe.
In my waters these come for death,
Tell me one now or hold your breath.
They can make you smile or make you weep,
They can resurrect the dead you wish to keep.
I want one now with the power to make
A silvery fox or a talking snake.'
'Memories,' Hermione and Malfoy answered in unison.
'Memories?' Alex echoed.
'Memories.' Hermione affirmed. 'The first part is referring to memories. Lethe is the river of forgetfulness, memories go there to die. But what does the second part mean? A memory with the power to make a fox? '
'A memory about an animal?' Alex tried.
Hermione wracked her brain, determined to be the one to figure out the first puzzle. But her mind had other ideas, images flooded in: Tonks and Lupin holding hands, Fred and George laughing together, Moody's determined face, his limp. Memories of the dead she wished to resurrect. Draco's voice drew her from her fantasies.
'A happy memory.' Malfoy's voice sounded unsure.
Hermione could feel her eyebrows knit in confusion. She looked up to see Malfoy smirking, pleased that he'd found the answer. Hermione rolled her eyes. A patronus.
'Happy memories make patronus, a silvery fox or a talking snake. Get it?' Draco explained.
'I still can't produce a patronus' Alex's voice sounded through the room.
Hermione's eyes raised in alarm. That seemed like such basic magic, something she'd learned ages ago.
'Seriously? How the fuck did you get into training?' Malfoy's thoughts clearly reflected Hermione's, though she was able to keep them to herself.
'I bet you can't make one,' Hermione challenged, her eyes slitting as she stared at Malfoy.
'Of course I can,' He replied, sneering. His steel blue eyes were almost black in the low light as he glared back at Hermione. She felt her pulse quicken.
"Well, what is it then?'
Truth was, Draco hadn't learned to cast a patronus until quite recently. Before the end of the war, he hadn't needed to. Following Voldemort's rise, Death Eaters, as a rule, were not attacked by Dementors. Still, when Draco was assigned his Ministry-approved-tutor, it was one of the first things he'd asked to learn.
And so, on the field outside of his house, Draco had tried and tried and failed to produce to a patronus. He remembered the lesson well.
'Alright, Mr. Malfoy,' Mr. Reid began, 'first, you must think of your very happiest memory. When you have that memory locked in your mind, simply repeat the phrase we've been practicing: Expecto Patronom.'
Draco had rolled his eyes. He didn't dislike Mr. Reid – he was better than half the professors at Hogwarts – but, the tutor did have a habit of treating Draco like a small child.
A happy memory. Draco wracked his brain.
The first time his father had told him he was proud, perhaps? That was just after Draco had taken the Dark Mark. A profound memory, but not a happy one.
The last time his father had told him he loved him? That was right before he got on the train to Hogwarts for the first time. The memory was tainted by his nerves and excitement.
The first time he kissed a girl? Pansy Parkinson during a game of spin the wand in the Slytherin common room. Second year. Not really a happy memory, more embarrassing.
The first time he really kissed a girl? Pansy Parkinson, in a secluded corridor of the castle between Herbology and Astronomy class. Sure, that was happy, but not happy enough.
The first time he had sex with a girl? Astoria Greengrass in the Manor. No.
All of these memories were tainted by time, relationships dwindling due to the ongoing pressures Draco faced as a Death Eater.
He tried again, tried to remember the last time he was truly happy. He thought about his childhood.
Then, he got it.
His birthday, June 5th, the year he turned ten. His father had been away on business and his mother woke him early with his favourite breakfast: eggs and toast with jam. Then, she'd taken him to Diagon Alley to buy his presents.
First, they went Eeylops Owl Emporium where he had picked out a young, handsome northern white owl, who he named Grouch. Next, they went to Florean's to get an ice cream sundae. Last, the biggest surprise of all, his mother had taken him to buy his first real broom.
When they'd arrived back at the Manor, Draco ran immediately to his yard to play. Letting Grouch out of his cage, he had mounted his broom and began soaring through the sky, owl at his side.
That feeling, the wind in his face, the exhilaration. But that wasn't the happy memory he'd been thinking about when he'd finally produced the patronus. Rather, it was the look on his mother's face when he landed. She beamed at Draco, her smile, a mixture of pride, worry, and elation.
With his mother's face secure in his mind, Draco yelled, 'Expeco Patronum', and out from his wand appeared a pale wisp of white light, which grew stronger with every second. Then, the light started taking form as it hovered a mere meter from Draco's wand. A head, four long legs, a tail. The animal slowly took a few timid steps towards Draco, sat and regarded him. It bowed its head once, and then faded.
'A wolf,' Draco said to Granger, answering her question through clenched teeth. Draco liked the wolf, always poised and elegant, occasionally playful, depending on Draco's mood. He often produced the creature just for a bit of company.
'My happiest memory is the first time I flew on a broomstick, the first time I felt free,' Draco confessed, leaving out the bit about his mother's face – his real happiest memory.
Draco focused his attention on the page in front of him, and sure enough, his neat cursive appeared at the bottom of the page. He read aloud, 'Draco Malfoy, see? I was the first to do it'.
Draco watched Hermione roll her eyes. Prat, he thought.
Prat, Hermione thought. Now, it was her turn.
'In first year, I was in the girl's washroom when I was attacked by a troll.' Hermione began.
Draco stared at her incredulously, 'your happiest memory is getting attacked by a troll?'
'No,' Hermione's eyes like daggers turned to Draco, 'if you would let me finish…' she said through clenched teeth.
Draco gestured, as if to say 'carry on'.
'As I was saying, when I was in first year, I was attacked by a troll in the gril's washroom. I really thought I was going to die and just when I'd gotten to Hogwarts. And then, Ron and Harry came in, and we fought off the troll together.' Hermione finished.
'So you're happiest memory is fighting a troll?' Draco asked, his voice deadpan.
'No. God you're a prick,' Hermione admonished. 'My happiest memory is becoming friends with Harry and Ron.' There are some things you can't share without ending up liking each other, and knocking out a twelve-foot mountain troll is one of them, Hermione thought. Ron and Harry were the first friends she'd ever had.
'I'd never had any friends before,' Hermione finished, looking down as she did. Draco watched her features alit in the soft light, delicate and feminine, stern and wise, and he felt something, something deep within him stir.
'HA!' Hermione broke Draco's thought, 'I've done it too. Hermione Granger.' Granger said, looking down at the page in Draco's hands. Draco scoffed.
'Today,' Alex had been silent throughout Malfoy and Hermione's story. They turned to him now.
'What?' Draco asked.
'Today,' Alex repeated, 'today is my best memory. Starting this job with the Ministry.'
Draco looked at him, perplexed.
Hermione watched Draco's face contort into a perplexed expression. Hermione, too, stared at her new collogue. Looking at his face, she had a feeling that underneath his dark brown eyes and wide grin there was a life of pain.
She looked back down at the book as Alex's name appeared beside her own.
'Turn the page,' Alex said.
Malfoy complied.
Before Malfoy could begin reading the instructions on the new page, Hermione felt the ground beneath her feet shift. It seemed as though the others did too, each grasping at the wall behind them. Malfoy's face, panic stricken, was still illuminated by the words on the page. The floor rumbled and seemed to drop a few inches beneath their feet. She felt something then, something cold, on her toes. She picked up her foot, it was wet.
'What the…' She heard Malfoy's voice from across the chamber.
'Blood?' Her voice sounded small even to herself.
'Water,' Malfoy replied.
'Water.' Alex repeated. It began to rise. Slowly at first, and then suddenly, very quickly.
'What do we do?' Malfoy's voice was stressed.
'I don't know!' The water was already up past their knees. Hermione gripped the wall harder. Before long, it was past her waist, filling the cell quickly.
'Can you swim?' She heard Malfoy's voice ask into the emptiness.
'Yes,' Hermione and Alex replied in unison.
The water rose higher, nearly reaching her shoulders. Then, she lifted her feet from the bottom and began slowly circling her legs around.
'It's almost at my head, I can't breath!' Alex yelled.
'SWIM!' Hermione urged, 'It's not going to stop rising'. She could still hear a slight rumbling, the water entering at the bottom of the cell through cracks in the walls.
She closed her eyes, tried to focus on a solution to the problem. When she opened them again, she felt as though they'd risen a dozen feet, the water bringing the three trainees upwards with it. And, just as suddenly as it had started, the sound of the water rushing through the wall stopped. Hermione kept swimming.
'Everyone alright?' She heard Alex's voice.
'Fine,' Hermione said.
'Just dandy,' she heard Malfoy's reply, sarcastic.
'What now?' Alex asked.
'Look,' Draco replied, 'we're closer to the top. Maybe the water will rise and we will be able to climb through the hole.'
Hermione was impressed, she'd been thinking the same thing. The rivers, the water, it all made sense now. They had to flood the cell to reach the top and escape. They just needed to stay afloat until the task was complete.
'Malfoy,' Hermione commanded again, 'read the next one.'
'I am the river of Styx.
With my power I can bind
The body, the soul, the mind.
The killer, the thief, the liar,
Each are to me an amplifier.
If you could send me only one
Who would you have done?'
'Styx is the river of hate, right?' Hermione heard Alex's voice directed towards her. She hoped he could see her nod. 'Well, then, that's easy. I hate my father the most. Bastard beat me all the time when I was younger.' Hermione's eyebrows knitted in concern.
'That's seriously fucked up,' Hermione heard Draco say. She was surprised he had any ability to sympathize, however harshly.
'I'm really sorry, Alex', she added.
'Never mind it, better off without him anyway,' Alex said as his name appeared at the bottom of the page.
Hermione thought about it. The first person that came to mind was Voldemort. But, even though he had killed countless people, her best friend's parents included, she couldn't help but feel slightly sorry for the man.
She remembered how Dumledore had explained to Harry that Voldemort couldn't love because he was made using a love potion. A life without love, she felt, was not a life lived at all.
She thought next of Malfoy, the boy who had tormented her throughout childhood. But that boy was gone, a man now.
Her mind went next to Bellatrix. Bellatrix had no excuse, she could love and she did love: torturing and killing.
'Bellatrix,' Hermione said confidently. 'She's the reason I have this scar,' she elaborated.
'Scar?' Alex asked.
'Mudblood, etched into my skin forever'.
'Voldemort,' Hermione heard Malfoy say. She squinted her eyes, suspicious. She couldn't see his face clearly, but it sounded as if he was laughing.
'You're joking,' Hermione asked, she wouldn't let Malfoy get away with this one. 'You followed him for years, you and your entire family. You fought with him in the war. YOU KILLED FOR HIM! And you're telling me you hate him the most?'
'Look Granger,' Draco's voice was stern but calm. 'I don't have to explain myself to you. Our names are already on the page, let's just get on with it.'
Hermione heard Malfoy roughly turn the page. How dare he? She fumed. How dare he laugh when he said Voldemort's name, the man who had killed so many of her friends, had uprooted her entire life. How dare he?
How dare she? She has no idea what I've been through, Draco thought. He was becoming increasingly agitated. He felt claustrophobic in the tight space and one of his legs had begun to cramp from the swimming. Just as he went to read the next passage, he heard the grumbling of the walls moving once again. The water began to rise. When it ceased, they were perhaps twenty feet closer to the white sky above.
Draco began to read:
'I am the river of Acheron,
When I come, I come too late,
And in your mind you will debate
To remember well or soon forget,
That which makes you most regret.
Tell me now over what you woe.
The river water will once again flow.'
A regret, huh? Draco had plenty of those. But, before he could speak, he heard Granger from the far wall.
'Ron. I regret what happened between me and Ron. I thought we were perfect for each other, but we weren't. And now we don't get along as well. I guess it was just the wrong time,' Granger exclaimed.
'No such thing, Granger,' Draco heard himself say.
'What?' Hermione's voice was indignant.
'No such thing as the right person, wrong time. If it's the right person, it's always the right time,' Draco explained. He knew that well. He had really liked Astoria and he told himself that when everything was over, the murdering, the Death Eaters, the lying, the cheating, they would be happy together. But, things don't always work out as planned.
'What do you know about love Malfoy? You don't even have a heart,' Granger countered.
He clenched his jaw, his fists. If he had been able to hex her, he definitely would have. Where did she get off telling him that he knew nothing about Love? She knew nothing!
'Granger, you know nothing about me.'
'Well, what's yours then Malfoy? You think you're so wise. What do you regret? Surely the great Draco Malfoy has never made a mistake,' Hermione's voice was taunting.
'You know what I was going to say Granger?' Draco's voice was louder than he intended, more forceful, nearly yelling, 'I was going to say that I regretted not stopping Bellatrix from torturing you in the Manor. But, I don't think I regret that anymore. I do regret torturing Amelia Bones before I killed her though. There, are you happy Granger!? Am I the monster you want me to be? Because I can do a lot worse.'
'You disgust me,' Granger's voice was quiet, menacing.
Draco fumed.
Silence filled the cell once again.
Then, Draco heard Alex's voice, quiet at first, gaining strength, 'I never said goodbye. I mean, he beat me and called me names and threatened to kill me, but I really regret not saying bye. He died all alone. At the time, I would have spat in his face if I saw him. But now, I wish I went to say goodbye. Maybe just to ask why he hated me so much.'
Silence.
'My father, I mean,' Alex finished.
Silence.
'Oh Alex, I'm so sorry. That must be so hard,' Hermione's voice was thick with empathy.
Draco remained quiet as the chamber filled once again with water, raising the trio closer to the light.
Malfoy turned the page. Clearing his throat, he read:
'I am the river of Cocytus,
Useless for one but bliss for two,
I swell the soul when I am true.
When I leave, I will break your heart,
Shatter it to pieces and tiny parts.
Tell me now of one you hold dear,
A friend, a lover, or a peer.'
Draco heard Alex scoff.
'You know, I'm getting really sick of this book,' Alex said.
'Never trust something that can think for itself if you can't see where it keeps it brain,' Hermione sighed. 'At least the clues are getting easier.'
'What are you on about Granger?' Draco couldn't hide the harshness in his voice. 'Let's just get this thing done.'
Draco pulled his fingers through his now damp hair, looking down, he started to speak: 'My mother, I love her. Throughout everything, she always put our family first. She protected me.'
'Is she still alive?' Hermione asked.
'Last I checked,' Draco rolled his eyes. He was getting annoyed at her presence.
The name Draco Malfoy appeared at the bottom of the page indicating that he had passed this stage. Four down, one to go.
Despite the fact that Hermione was angry with Draco, she couldn't help but feel something for him. Malfoy loved his mother, above everyone else.
Hermione's came easily to her as well.
'Harry,' she said simply. 'He saved us all.'
Hermione could feel Malfoy's annoyance at her answer. But, it was the truth. And, from a distance, she saw her name appear at the bottom of the page.
'Grandmother,' Alex added, 'she took me in after my father died.' His name too appeared.
Malfoy held the book up to his face after the water had once again risen. Hermione could feel her toes beginning to prune. They were nearly through though, a mere ten feet from the opening above.
'I am the river of Phlegethon,
Feed me food and I will thrive,
Give me the water and I will die.
In the darkness I will guide,
Hold me close and you will stride.
Just tell me for whom you look,
And I will light the path you took.'
'Well, Phlegethon is the river of fire,' Hermione began, 'but it seems to be asking us who we're looking for. Strangely, the first person I thought of is myself.'
Hermione paused, collecting her thoughts. She had spent so many years helping Harry defeat Voldemort and then passing her N.E.W.T.s and then starting her new job. So many years thinking constantly of death and war, love and loss. Hermione sighed. She really was looking for herself.
'Me too,' She heard Draco's voice confess. Both of their names appeared at the bottom of the book.
'Yeah. I know I didn't fight in the war or anything, but with my family and all, it's been a difficult few years. I came here to prove something to myself,' Alex said.
Once again, the water began to rise. This time, it brought Hermione's head just a few centimeters from the opening. She could see clearly now. Malfoy looked exhausted as his head bobbed up and down across from her. Alex, equally tired, pressed his whole body against the cement wall.
She looked up. The opening, however, which was mere centimeters above her, was actually no opening at all. The ceiling was charmed, just like that of Hogwarts' great hall, to reflect the sky beyond. The others, also looking up, noticed too.
'It's blocked', Alex said, alarmed.
'How could I have been so stupid,' Hermione rub her face is distress. 'Of course it's blocked. The Hades charm only works in enclosed spaces, if the ceiling was open, we'd be able to use magic.'
'Fuck,' Malfoy's voice was loud.
'You mean we're trapped in here? I don't know how much longer I can swim,' Alex was nearly shouting.
"Calm down,' Hermione instructed quietly. 'We need to think'.
'We don't have time to think!' Alex yelled. 'You don't think the Ministry would let us die in here do you?'
Just as Alex said those words, Hermione felt cool air on her face. The square of glass blocking their passage had disappeared. She blinked a few times, trying to adjust to the real, harsher light. In a corner, she saw Kingsley's dark handsome face appear.
'Of course not, Mr. Morris. Here,' Kingsley said as he placed a latter down into the cell.
Alex climbed up first, followed by Hermione. Malfoy ascended last.
Exhausted, all Hermione could do upon climbing out of the watery pit was lie on the soft grass beneath her feet, looking up at the bright sky above.
The others, clearly just as tired, did the same. Kingsley waited patiently as the three caught their breath.
Hermione was the first to rise, sitting up slowly, and then standing face to face with Kingsley. She was followed shortly by Malfoy, and then Alex.
'You should have seen your faces,' Kingsley said, grinning, 'quite priceless.'
The three gathered together around Kingsley, sopping wet. She was freezing.
It was only then Hermione remembered she could once against use magic. She quickly pulled out her wand, said a drying spell, and felt her body tingle as it began to warm.
She watched as Malfoy did the same.
Except, his actions weren't exactly the same. He merely extended his hand, palm down, and waved it quickly over his body, his black clothes drying instantly. Wandless magic, Hermione thought.
'Congratulations,' Kingsley began, 'you passed our first lesson. A trust building exercise. Elaborate, I know. But we felt it necessary given the number of new recruits and the tension that has torn apart the magical community in recent years."
'You three look exhausted. If you'll follow me, I'll show you the Auror's dining hall and you can have some lunch. I believe you have some friends waiting for you, Miss. Granger," Kingsley turned to walk back into the building.
Hermione had nearly forgotten about Ron and Harry. She could hardly wait, excited to see her friends after a morning with Malfoy.
After a short walk, they crammed into a busy elevator. 'Basement Level 2: Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Auror Headquarters, Wizengamot Administration Services.' They exited.
'This way please,' Kingsley lead the way.
The Auror headquarters looked like parts of the Ministry Hermione had already seen: a large white room divided with short walls into a series of cubicles. Along the walls hung wanted posters and paintings of former Aurors, including, Hermione noted, one of Tonks, who waved brightly at her as she passed. Moody merely nodded his head, but Hermione was sure his slight smile indicated he was pleased to see her there. A few doors also dotted the walls, each with a small gold plaque in the centre, listing the name of the Wizard to whom the office belonged. After a short walk, they came into a slightly smaller room filled with tables and benches. Atop the tables were a variety of dishes.
'Gotta use the loo,' She heard Alex say behind her. She turned to see him walk away and noticed Malfoy was nowhere in sight. Suspicious, she thought. Then, she noticed a familiar red head looking in her direction, and saw Harry wave her over. She smiled instantly.
'You look like hell,' Ron said as she sat down beside him, across from Harry.
'Thank you, Ronald,' Hermione replied as she placed some food on her plate. God, he could be so insensitive sometimes.
'I take you just spent the morning in the dungeons?' Harry asked.
'You knew about this? Why didn't you warn me?'
'Couldn't bloody well do that, could we?' Ron replied.
'Confidentiality agreement,' Harry explained. 'You'll sign one after lunch.'
'Right.' Hermione accepted his answer. She knew that much of what she learned in her training would be secret, even to Ron and Harry.
'Should have seen it when we did it,' Ron said as he shoved a chicken leg into his mouth, 'here were seven of us, it look ages to get through everyone. I could barely feel my legs when we finished.'
'Look,' Harry said urgently but quietly, lowering his head so he was slightly hidden behind Hermione and Ron.
Hermione turned around slowly. She watched as Malfoy made his way into the dining hall, choosing a table on the far side of the room, near the fake window, away from all the others. As he put some food on his plate, he kept his head lowered. He then retrieved a book from his bag, opened it, and fixed his full attention on the pages.
'What the hell is he doing here?!' Ron whisper yelled.
'Oh my gosh,' Hermione answer. 'I totally forgot to tell you. Malfoy is training with me.'
'What,' Ron said beside her, choking on his pumpkin juice. 'He's a death eater for fuck's sake.'
'That's what I said,' Hermione replied, 'well, nearly what I said'
'Kingsley must trust him, wouldn't be here unless he'd been hired, right?' Harry said, raising his eye brows skeptically.
'Yes,' Hermione replied, 'He said Malfoy's a former Death Eater and that he earned the position.'
'What kind of secrets did he have to tell? I bet they were really dark,' Ron asked.
'You know I can't tell you that,' Hermione said. 'Besides, I can barely remember. I was just trying to stay afloat.' Truth was, Hermione had been impressed by some of Malfoy's secrets. And now, as she turned around again to steal a few sideways glances at him, she couldn't help but think of how different he looked.
At school, Draco had always sat with a crowd of friends surrounding him, laughing and joking with him. He always looked so at ease. Now, he looked as though merely touching another person would kill him. He looked lonely.
When Alex reappeared, she invited him to sit with Harry, Ron and herself. Ron, surprisingly, scooted over to make room for their new guest; he even put his fork down to shake hands properly. The two seemed to get on instantly, joking and talking quidditch.
When lunch was over, Hermione, Malfoy and Alex were escorted to a small office. There, they met Gawain Robards, the new Leader of the Auror Office. The trainees began learning about the various laws which affected their jobs. All and all, it was an uneventful afternoon. Hermione, however, didn't mind. She had always excelled in the classroom and needed a rest after the morning's activities.
Draco walked slowly along the muggle street as the sun began to set on London. He was headed home after a long day at his new job. He smoked a cigarette and ran the events over in his head. He had been worried Ron and Harry were going to attack him when they saw him at Lunch. To his surprise though, nothing had happened. He stole glances every now and then at the famous trio, watching as the chatted away animatedly. He couldn't help but feel jealous. He missed his friends, his parents even. He had felt extremely isolated since moving back to London.
He threw his cigarette on the ground as he approached his flat. He could have aparated, but Draco enjoyed the short walk from Wizarding London out to muggle London, along the bustling streets, over the river, toward his quiet neighbourhood. He could hide among the crowds. He could think while he walked.
His first day at the Ministry hadn't been exactly what he'd expected. He certainly hadn't expected to see Granger. He didn't mind the other trainee, Alex. He seemed to have a bit of a fucked up past, but then again, who doesn't? He thought back about the secrets Granger had revealed.
She'd clearly gone back to Hogwarts for another year of school. And she loved Potter. She and the Weasel had a thing but it didn't work out. Maybe she was in love with Potter?
She was also lost. That's what struck Draco most, that she went to the Ministry in part to find herself. Same as him. In the end, we're all just scared, of the future and of ourselves.
He climbed up the five stories slowly, his legs tired from the swim. Arriving at his landing, he took out his wand and said a few unlocking charms, opened the door and walked in.
He paused to take of his leather boots off and headed to the kitchen. He didn't make it far before nearly tripping over his grey tabby cat. He paused, bending down to scratch her under the chin.
'Hi Sappho. I know, I was gone for a while. It'll be like this from now on,' Malfoy said, resuming his walking. 'Hungry?'
Draco charmed a spoon to scoop cat food into her bowl while he prepared himself a turkey sandwich in the kitchen. Taking his plate into the dining room, he sat at the table, quickly joined by Sappho. Sappho's deep blue eyes watched his plate expectantly.
"You want some turkey, eh?" Draco asked, ripping off little pieces to feed to her.
After finishing his dinner, Draco took a quick shower and climbed into bed, exhausted from the long day. Sappho curled up at his side.
'You'll never guess who was there today,' he told the cat. 'Hermione Granger. You remember when I told you about her, right?' Sappho meowed. 'Of course you do. Cause you're the smartest kitty,' Draco doted while he rubbed her stomach.
What the hell am I doing? Draco thought, rolling his eyes at himself. Here I am explaining my day to a cat. I really need to get out more.
Draco rolled onto his stomach and prepared himself for a night of fearsome dreams or persistent insomnia. Either way, it would be a long night.