Chapter Four:
The Lost Tomb
She looked up at him, at his hand reaching down for hers, at the small grin on his face. He looked so innocent; and some part of her had always known that. She realized she understood him better than she would have liked to admit. She took his hand, and was slightly flustered when she noticed how strong he was, and how easily he pulled her up. She walked ahead of him, her wand lighting the way. He followed, carefully studying his wand on his open palm, spinning like a compass. They edged along the rocky edge of the water. Some part of Hermione was less afraid of the water since she knew that the Basilisk was dead. But the Inferi, who didn't even grab her or Draco when they were drowning - were they actually dead too? How could they have died?
She steadied herself as they ventured deeper into the cave. The rough pebble pathway broke into rows of precarious rocks resting near the walls. In some places, there was no place to walk upon; just the slow, lapping dark water all around. Draco seemed less afraid than her to wade across the water, and sometimes, he would wade beside her, as she edged across the rocks.
"Where are we going?" She asked, looking over her shoulder at him.
He was still studying the compass, and walking purposefully behind her. "The only two entrances to the cave we knew of was through the cliff facing the sea," he said, his voice echoing slightly, "And that was to the South. There might be a few more entrances, but I bet they're all seaside."
She nodded, and continued walking. Suddenly, in the water, her eye caught the shimmering luminescent basilisk venom she had seen earlier.
"Watch out!" She said, pointing the light at it. The waters sloshed around his ankles as he jumped back, and he sprang up quickly on the rock she had been standing.
He was standing inches behind her, and she couldn't help the hot blush that rushed to her cheeks. He steadied himself by placing his arm on her back, and she could suddenly smell his woody cologne. Hermione, stop it! Get a grip! She felt something turn to ice against her chest, as if suddenly angered by her self-control.
"No wonder they were dead," he said, his warm breath blowing against her cheek. She forced herself to concentrate on what he was saying.
"What?" She said breathlessly.
"The Inferi," he explained, nudging her to walk again, "Basilisk venom is the rarest and oldest poison in the world. Instant death - more effective than the Killing Curse. One drop of this, and even the most cursed being in the world, like an Inferi, cannot endure for a second longer. Dumbledore had been sending Hagrid and Mad-Eye Moody out for this in Borgin and Burkes for years, or so I've heard."
She turned around, her senses returning. "And just what are you implying by that?"
He shrugged. "Nothing. Just that Basilisk Venom is very popular with the Anti-Dark Arts crowd too. "
Draco looked back at the shimmering oil-like liquid on the water, as if considering something. He groaned, as if being defeated by a thought, "Gads! An opportunity like this never comes up." He said roughly, his eyes glinting, and conjured a couple glass vials. He leaned over the water's edge behind her.
She blustered, suddenly sickly afraid, "what are you doing?! You could get killed!"
He continued to reach for the venom, "not unless you push me in, Granger." He turned to look at her, "I'd think you of all people would be trying to bottle this stuff, seeing as you could buy your boyfriend a nicer pigsty with the galleons you'd make."
She flushed. "He's not my boyfriend," she paused for a few minutes, studying him carefully. "but now that you mention it, Ron probably deserves that money more than you do."
She swore she could see him smiling from the corner of her eye as she stooped next to him. What am I doing? I'm acting like Slughorn! Like some common, greedy, opportunistic Slytherin!
Hermione groaned, "Budge over."
"No."
"Move." She said bossily and elbowed him, but he elbowed her harder.
They sat there, staring daggers at each other in perpetual silence.
"This is my rock you're standing on!" Hermione shrieked indignantly, pushing him away.
"Well, it was my idea!" Draco yelled back.
They glared at each other intensely for a few more minutes.
Finally, He groaned, throwing his hands up as if in defeat, before shifting aside to give her room, "You'd make a fine Harpy, you know that?"
She grinned happily at him, but he scowled miserably at the water ahead of him.
A few minutes later, after they had tightly stoppered the corks, and as the shimmering venom floated thickly inside the glass vials, they got up.
"That was most of it?" She asked, swishing her vial and pocketing it in her robes. He nodded, looking at the water, making sure they hadn't missed anything.
They continued walking ahead, turning to the left and right as Draco's wand indicated. After what seemed like an hour, they suddenly came to a stop. A towering wall stood in front of them, reaching high up in the ceiling and all around them, barring their way.
He groaned loudly, "Guess we're turning back then," he said irritatedly, and traced his way back, not waiting for her.
But something told Hermione to wait. A cold, excited, almost thrilled voice in her heart made her hypnotically reach a tentative hand to the rough-hewn rock in front of her.
Suddenly, she turned quickly around for Draco, who was walking away. "WAIT!" She called out to him, and he turned back to look at her.
Her eyes sparkling, Hermione cried in a feverish excitement, "The wall's hollow."
Draco walked back across the rocks, intently watching Hermione in the dim light of her wand.
"What d'you say, Granger?" He asked, skipping nimbly from rock to rock toward her.
She sighed, her cold voice sounding impatiently agitated, "The wall," she tapped it lightly with her wand, "it's hollow."
She suddenly looks different, thought Draco, even her voice sounds strange. Almost like – like HIS voice.
"What's wrong? Why are you looking at me like that?" She asked, touching her face nervously.
He searched deeply into her eyes again, before shaking his head, "nothing."Draco turned his gaze to the wall, and touched it instinctively, as if feeling for something. In the light, he suddenly reminded Hermione of Bill, with his self-confident walk, and his cool languidness.
She leaned back, watching him with respectful awe, excitedly asking, "you know Geomancy, the art of stone magic?!"
Draco turned to look at her, "you could sound a little less surprised," he said sarcastically, "you see, Granger, when you're practically living with the Dark Lord, you tend to learn a thing or two."
She shook her head in amazement. "Dumbledore, Bill Weasley, You-Know-Who, and you," Hermione counted on her fingers, "That's really impressive. My books said that the practice was dead. That there was no one living who could - "
"Well, they're wrong, obviously, and there are probably more than just the four of us," He said, his hands lightly grazing the walls, which strangely sent shivers down her back, "you'd better sit down, Granger. I'm good, but I'll probably take much longer than that long-haired ginger pollock - or the Old Fool."
A hot anger bubbled up her throat. "Stop calling him that!"
"What, you probably prefer The Heir of Merlin?" He asked, looking at her condescendingly, "Dumbledore's not great enough for that name."
She scowled at the back of his head, holding herself back from strangling him, since he was the only one between the two of them who seemed to know a way out.
Crouching down on her knees, she eagerly held her wand up for him. Hermione suddenly realized her legs were aching, and her back felt like it was made of loosely joined bricks. But a strange demonic happiness surged through her, waiting excitedly for Draco to open the wall.
Another part of her found that she liked sitting back, and that she liked letting someone else help with the thinking, and with the work. With Harry and Ron, sometimes she felt more like an instrument, and she realized ashamedly she had been not just bored with the camping, but with the both of them.
She honestly felt like she was quite enjoying herself here with Draco, though she'd never repeat that to another living soul. It was dangerously exciting to be with someone she barely knew, someone she barely even trusted. With someone who barely knew her.
"Can you teach me?" she asked meekly, looking up at him.
"Geomancy? Now?" He asked her incredulously.
She sighed, disappointed. She began playing with the frayed ends of her black robes. He watched her for a moment, before -
"All right, If we ever get out of here," he said, turning away from her as she looked up, "and if we haven't killed each other, and if we're done with this stupid war," he paused, "and we're both still alive-"
"So, what you're saying is, when hell freezes over?" She asked.
"Exactly!" Draco smiled, "You know, Granger, sometimes we do see eye to eye after all."
She thought for a moment. "That actually doesn't sound too bad of a proposition. You've got a deal, Malfoy!"
She happily held out her arm again, and he didn't take it ... again. He snorted disgustedly at her outstretched arm, "You don't want me to shake that, do you?"
Pulling her hand away, and rolling her eyes, she continued playing with the ends of her robes. And Draco continued to feel around the wall.
Her arms began to tire from holding her lit wand for him. She yawned loudly. Wonder what time it is, Hermione thought, it must be late. She settled down comfortably, letting her feet float languidly in the water. She looked up at him, silently admiring him and wondering what else he knew that she didn't.
She watched his hands carefully, hoping she could study him and learn something. His mouth moved wordlessly, and he sometimes pressed the wall; sometimes ran the tips of his fingers across the length of it. Something in her shivered excitedly.
Still holding up her wand, her eyes travelled to his face. She saw the wisps of hair falling casually in his eyes, and the dark grime on his arms and face. There was dried blood on his nose, and she remembered guiltily, it was probably her fault.
She looked at his white shirt, stained with blood, that he had rolled up to the sleeves. His arms were strong; but still graceful. He was wearing dark pants, which was wet near the ankles –
Suddenly, Draco turned around, breaking her out of her reverie, "If you're quite finished admiring my bum," He said, turning back at her, pointing to the wall, "I'd like the light back here. I think I've lost where I was. I'll have to start all over again."
"What?" She asked wildly, her voice sounding dangerous, as she got quickly to her feet, "You're lying! You have to find a way through this wall! You can't be lost!" She then started to shiver violently, and her teeth began to chatter loudly. Small bursts white mist puffed from her nose and mouth. She wrapped her arms around herself, rubbing her hands together.
Draco looked at her intently. "Don't get your knickers in a twist, I was only kidding," he said, before swishing his wand and chanting a charm. The entire wall glowed green, before pulling apart from the middle, like a stone curtain, to reveal a dark, ancient, cavernous room.
Hermione stopped shivering. Her brown eyes glinted yellow, and she gasped ecstatically as she saw the room, "I know it's here, I can feel it."
Draco had been watching her the entire time as the passageway had opened. "What do you mean, Granger? What's here?"
She looked back at him, and the yellow spark in her eye dimmed. "Hmm? I don't know actually. I just feel – very happy all of a sudden. I don't know why."
She sounds normal now, Draco thought, looking at her closely again, I wonder why?
She was about to walk through, when Draco held her arm back. "Wands at the ready. We don't know what's waiting for us there. Granger, Let me go first."
She nodded, and held her wand up defensively. The vast chamber ahead looked terribly dark, like it would swallow light and never spit it out. It looked almost like an entrance to an Egyptian tomb.
Draco peered inside, and turned back quickly to look at the watery passageway behind him. He ran his hands through his hair, "I can't believe it."
"What?" She asked curiously.
He pointed ahead, and held up his dimly-lit wand to light up the middle of the chamber. He leaned next to her, pointing in the middle of the room. "See that?"
She squinted, and through the dim light, Hermione gasped. In the middle of the vast circular Chamber, there was a great marble tomb. Atop it, there was a carved marble figure of a beautiful woman sleeping peacefully, her long hair flowing gently around her face. Her arms were crossed over a marble manuscript, which lay on her chest. On her head, there was a real glittering, emerald studded diamond tiara. A flash of red passed over her eyes as she hungrily saw the emerald tiara.
Draco's eyes were wide, as he took in the sight. He said, almost hesitantly, "I think - I think we're in the Tomb - the Lost Tomb of Ravenclaw."
Hermione looked up at him, her breath knocked out of her chest, "What? Don't be silly! That's a legend! It was never discovered! This is probably just the Tomb of some medieval princess -"
"Granger," Draco said slowly, trying to make her understand, "We came through the lake of water ... "
She gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. She looked up at the sleeping marble statue, her eyes wide. Hermione began breathing shallowly, "I can't believe this! I can't believe this! It was in Hogwarts: A History, the first edition!"
"Yes, I know," Draco said offhandedly, "You're not the only one who knows how to read. What was it again?" He recited, "Legend has it that the Tomb is hidden under a lake. And no one can find it unless they've drowned themselves -"
Hermione broke in, excitedly, "so, because we both almost drowned, we – we came to the Lost Tomb? It was hidden here all this time? Then, it's true! They were in love!" Her brown eyes glittered excitedly.
Draco rolled his eyes, "woman, can't you stop being a hopeless romantic for once? We don't know if Salazar Slytherin made this Tomb for her. We're on the brink of an archaeological triumph and all you can think about is if Ravenclaw and Slytherin were lovers."
She frowned, "Shut up, Malfoy! That was a very big part of Hogwart's history. She fell in love with Salazar Slytherin - and stop looking at me like that, you know it's true - and before he was banished from Hogwarts, Rowena gave him a Locket. She died a few years later, and her soul went to rest with him. Slytherin realized he loved her but it was a little too late. He built her a Tomb, and carved her statue with his bare hands and placed a diadem on her head." She said, pointing to the statue and the diadem, as if it proved her story, "After he died, Slytherin's soul is said to haunt Rowena's Tomb!"
She hopped on her feet giddily, while Draco tried to hide a smile, "Oh!" She cried merrily, "This is so romantic!"
He cleared his throat, "Will you stop acting like a lovesick gargoyle? That story is not romantic - it's a bloody tragedy!"
"No, it isn't," she explained patiently, "they found true love - even if they had to die first to realize it."
He strode forward to the arch, ignoring her completely, "you haven't been reading Fifi Lafolle's romance series, have you?"
"Shut up, you big prat." Hermione stopped, "Wait, Malfoy, do you think You-Know-Who knows about this Chamber? This Tomb?"
He looked at her, as he held out an arm to stop her from entering, "Stay back, let me go first. You don't know what curses could get set off by your dirty blood."
She glared daggers at him, hoping to petrify him with her eyes.
He paused, "You know, Granger," he said, as he held his wand out to examine the arch, "It probably doesn't matter anyway, having a safe name for the Dark Lord. This cave looks too old to be penetrated by the insignificant spells of the Ministry. See here?" He pointed at the arch, "The stone here's been quarried more than a hundred thousand years ago. It's probably one of the greatest Unplottable places in England. Any Unforgivables cast won't even register, so, obviously the Taboos won't either –"
Hermione studied him carefully, "You're not tricking me, are you?" she asked slowly, "Making me say something, so your friends will come and get you?"
"Fine, Granger, I'll try it," Draco scoffed, before puffing up his chest to yell loudly, "VOLDEMORT IS AN UGLY BOGEY COME TO LIFE! AND ALBUS DUMBLEDORE IS A STUPID, SENILE, SMELLY, ARSE!"
They waited for something to happen, listening intently as the words "smelly arse" echoed for a few minutes around the Cave behind them. Hermione fought back the urge to slap him. How dare he say something like that about Dumbledore? After all he did for the evil prat –
Draco turned to her, smirking. "See, Granger?" He said, gesturing to the Cave around them, "Nothing." He turned away from her, studying the arch again carefully, as his hands caressed the stones gracefully.
A great peaceful happiness rushed through her. She was free! It had been months since they couldn't say the proper names of anything, and it actually hurt her. She could say anything she liked, anything at all-
"ALBUS PERCEVAL WULFRIC BRIAN DUMBLEDORE IS THE GREATEST MAN WHO EVER LIVED!" Hermione yelled happily, wishing Draco would turn around irritated, "AND I HOPE LORD VOLDEMORT DIES A THOUSANDS DEATHS!"
Draco did turn around, but instead of scowling at her, he was grinning slightly. Surprised at his reaction, she smiled at him, and he opened his mouth to say something, when suddenly –
Hermione screamed, grasping her chest. Something near her throat had turned to lead ice, and a cold pain shot angrily through her body. She gasped as she realized – the locket! It was – it was angry! She screamed again, sounding as if someone had been casting the Cruciatus Curse on her. She had said something terribly, terribly wrong-
She could barely stand, her knees were weak. She held on desperately to something next to her, as a faint dizziness pulsated from her heart. She heard herself screaming, as if from far away -
Draco had rushed to her side the moment she began to shriek. He held on to her arm, as she doubled over in pain, but he knew instantly what was wrong as she grasped her neck. He had known ever since she called him back to the wall, ever since he heard her call him with that cold, excited voice.
As he supported her from falling, his other hand reached around her neck, and felt the strong, cold, golden chain. It was heavy, like a lead weight. He pulled it with a great force, and off it came. He felt the sparkling, yellow gold of a locket pulsating against his hand. The pulsing ebbed away slowly, like an angry force calming down after it had separated from Hermione's body.
It was then that he realized that his other hand had let go of Granger. He looked down at his feet, and saw she had fainted on the rocks. Her pale arm was floating limply on the water, and her face was growing peaceful.
With a sudden horror, Draco realized he had been clutching the locket with a demonic possessiveness, and he could feel his heart darkening by its cold touch. Summoning all his strength, he threw the heavy locket as far as he could, but it landed only a few feet away, with a soft PLOP on the water as it sank slowly to the floor, glinting evilly.
His breathing came out in ragged gasps, as he supported himself on the rock wall. His mind was reeling. Suddenly, as if in a flash, he knew what it was.
A Horcrux.
There was a soul hidden in that locket. He could feel it.
That would explain why the strange glint of darkness in her eye disappeared every time he said her name.
"Granger," he whispered, looking down at her for the first time, and he watched as her face grew more peaceful as she heard her own name, she was sleeping deeply.
A couple hours later, Draco had dragged her roughly inside the cavernous room, and made sure she was still alive. Hermione awoke to see him towering over her, his face murderous.
"What the hell were you doing with that?" Draco roared, pointing to the glinting locket under the water.
She was in the dark cavernous room, lying on her back on a rough floor.
Hermione gasped, realizing what had just happened – Draco had found it. She mentally cursed herself for possibly losing the Horcrux for the third time.
She had just come to after her faint, and she had looked up to see him staring furiously down at her. Her head ached, and she had a trickle of blood running down her neck. "I don't know what you're talking about," she evaded nimbly, as best she could.
His expression darkened.
"Don't take me for an idiot, Granger," He said in a dangerous, low voice, "Just because I'm not wasting my curses on you, doesn't mean I won't hesitate to take you as prisoner to the Dark Lord." He spat maliciously. She trembled under his dangerous gaze.
"NOW, ANSWER ME!" He growled, sounding almost inhuman.
"I don't – I don't know," she managed, her voice shaking, "I found it on the ground. Snape dropped it, and – and I thought it might be useful." Hermione stammered, trying her best not to lie. Close your mind, Hermione, It's a Vault, He can't read your mind. He can't find your memories –
"So, you know too," He said softly, as if reading her mind, "you know what that is?" He asked, almost disbelieving, looking at her strangely.
Damn it, he's good at Legilimency too. Hermione made a final attempt to cover up, "I-I don't know –"
"Stop lying Mudblood, you're really bad at it," he said, annoyed, "so, YOU know you were just possessed by a Horcrux?"
She gasped, wild-eyed. "How do you know that word?"
"Again with the tone of surprise," Draco said, rolling his eyes. "If you haven't got the memo yet, I'm Draco Malfoy. The infamous Death Eater. Spawn of Minister Lucius Malfoy, the celebrated Mudblood Exterminator. Almost studied at Durmstrang, and knows more about the Dark Arts for his own good. You know, THE Draco Malfoy, the one that spends his free time apprenticing at Borgin and Burkes?" He said sarcastically, as if introducing himself.
She looked up at him, his face covered in the shadowy darkness of the cavernous room. There was silence for a few minutes. Hermione's mind raced frantically, as it was hit with the truth of who Draco really was. Would he take her to the Ministry – and give her up to the Death Eaters? What would happen to her wand?
Hermione asking quietly, "what are you going to do with me?"
He didn't answer.
He stepped back from the dim light, so that she couldn't see him at all, "HE made it, didn't he?" He asked, reasoning to himself, "That's what Potter's been looking for. All of the Dark Lord's treasures that he's making us protect, the reason the Dark Mark summoned us here to this Cave – it's because they're all Horcruxes?" His voice echoed, and he sounded almost … betrayed.
Hermione didn't say anything. She watched him carefully, trying hard to calm her breathing.
Draco's feet paced the floor, "No! It can't – he can't have – The Dark Lord's not like that, it's not his, it can't be …" He sounded so lost, so distraught.
Why would he be upset by this? Hermione thought curiously.
He continued pacing, and she could faintly see him, running his hands through his hair anxiously, "all the greatest treasures of England, ancient Arthurian relics, Imperial property of the Founders of Hogwarts - We thought he was preserving the great English Wizarding Legacy, advancing the Pureblood race - but … we're protecting them because – because - he's gone and stuck the ugly, little fragments of his soul in them?!" Draco sounded hysterical, furious.
Hermione breathed in relief; she had found her meal ticket; His ideology was crumbling before his eyes, if she just said the right things, she could escape from here alive. If she could manipulate him to her favor, he might even let her go himself. And a small part of her added, He might even come with you.
"What are you going to do with it?" She asked again, very quietly.
His wild, distraught eyes found hers, and they immediately cooled. "What like keep it for ransom? Defect from the Death Eaters? Or join Potter's little renegade fan club?" He said bitingly, "you wish, Mudblood."
She groaned. Just remember, Hermione, evil prats can never be manipulated to your favor.
Hermione got up quickly, feeling completely defeated, "You know what, Malfoy? Just get it over with. Why don't you summon your friends, and have yourself a nice little 'mudblood extermination' party." She brushed the tears from her eyes, "I've failed Dumbledore. I've failed Harry. I've lost the Locket for the third time. Go ahead, summon the Death Eaters. Kill me. I could care less now."
Draco subconsciously rolled down the sleeves of his arms, hiding the Dark Mark. "Since when'd you turn into Potter's obedient little suicide bomber?"
He gestured to the Locket, as she chuckled despite herself. He said slowly, "and you haven't failed those two clowns yet."
She said slowly, "What are you saying?"
"Once in a lifetime opportunity here, Granger, and it's not coming back." He said, "Let me spell it out for you; you're trapped in a Cave with THE Draco Malfoy, the only person apart from Mr. Burke and the Dark Lord himself, who could tell you all about the history and the spells inside that Locket over there; And I'm the only person, apart from Merlin himself and that Old Fool, who could tell you fifty different ways to kill a stinky little Horcrux while still preserving its canopic body. I'm sure you of all people wouldn't let such a valuable resource like me go to waste," He said, winking.
"What?" She asked, hoping to Merlin she was hearing him right.
He scoffed, rolling his eyes. "I'm practically going to HELP you kill this Horcrux, and I'm going to tell you how to do it, so you can get out of here and kill the others, wherever that psychotic snake has stuffed them. But remember, if you, or anyone from Potter's fan club, even so much get one scratch on that Locket or any of the other relics with your muddy hands, I'm going to beat your bushy skull into your elbow."
"You really are quite the charmer," she couldn't help but smiling.
A dizzy happiness radiated from her; she hadn't felt this excited since when she first got her letter to Hogwarts. Everything, everything she had been trying to understand the last year – everything would be explained! Countless months she spent scouring the Library, barely finding anything – and now, here he was, the greatest book on Horcruxes, almost begging her to read him -
He broke in suddenly, "Another thing, Mudblood, I'm going to have to do a Memory Charm on you once you get out, so you won't remember me telling you all this, but you will still know how to kill Horcruxes," He smirked, "you're simply awful at Occlumency, you know that? You could get me in trouble. I can read you like a book-"
"NO! I don't want to forget you! I mean, all this – I mean … er …" She broke off, blushing furiously.
He smirked. "Well, you won't forget me," he said, mocking a lovers' whisper, as he pressed his cheek to hers dramatically, "We'll always have the Cave."
Suddenly, she gasped loudly, covering her mouth as a smile lit up her eyes, "Oh! I thought it was me!"
"What?" He asked confusedly.
"No, no," she explained happily, "you see, a while ago, when you were opening the Wall, I thought I was in love with you or something– but it was the Horcrux! I mean, er, well, I had strange feelings, that, er, could be interpreted as, er, something lusty …"
"Hoo hoo hoo!" He whistled, looking her up and down appreciatively, "Guess who's in love with whom?"
Hermione blustered angrily, though she was still reddening, "I just told you it wasn't me – It was the Locket! I was possessed! Who in their right mind would –"
He put his finger to his chin, pretending to think, "what was that again? Oh, yes!" He began to imitate her, "' You're in love with me. That's why you like to rescue me so much. Face it, you're in love. With Hermione Granger. And you can't get enough-"
"Shut up, Malfoy." She cut him off, forcing a serious look on her face. She turned abruptly on her heel as she strode purposefully back to the Horcrux.
He trailed behind her, still smirking like a schoolboy. "After this? Not bloody likely."