~ Draco and Hermione ~

"The world isn't split into good people and Death Eaters.
We've all got both light and dark inside us.
What matters is the part we choose to act on.
That's who we really are."

Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters and settings belong to J.K Rowling.

Enjoy!

Chapter 4

Time flew by and before she knew it Draco had returned and unlocked the door. Hermione said goodbye to the other prisoners, wondering if that was the last time she would see them. Upstairs in the middle of the day, the Malfoy Manor was buzzing with activity, it was almost like the Order, only full of Death Eaters. She got disgusted glares from every person she walked past, so she simply focused on where Draco was walking and kept close behind him. They went up another floor and walked down a dark corridor. At the far end was a door, which he stopped at. Clearly Voldemort was waiting inside. Hermione could feel her hands sweating slightly as she took a deep breath.

"See you soon," said Hermione, looking at Draco. She didn't know what else to say, she couldn't exactly say anything else.

"More than likely," Draco muttered, looking crestfallen. She realised he was referring to the fact that he'd be chucked in the cellar with them if Voldemort found out what he'd done. She felt a pang of pity for him as he opened the door. She entered, and the door was immediately closed behind her.

"Hermione Granger," said a chilling voice. She turned and saw Lord Voldemort himself standing behind a desk near the other side of the room. It must have been where Voldemort spent most of his time, because the walls were lined with bookshelves of hundreds of books, none of which looked very pleasant. Hermione had no doubt that this room was filled with more dark knowledge than the entire library at Hogwarts. Fear and anxiety mixed with anger and hatred, as she stayed where she was.

"Voldemort," Hermione responded in kind. She figured the Taboo magic on his name didn't matter anymore, so she could say his name without fear. They'd already captured her.

"I have questions. You can either tell me the answers, or I will take them from you," he went on simply. Hermione often pictured a psychotic evil wizard, loud and bloodthirsty, but Voldemort was not as she imagined. He was evil, his voice was cold, his eyes a shocking, crimson red colour. His expression seemed capable of only showing emotions of indifference or anger. His appearance was inhuman. But he seemed passive, intelligent, calculating, which made him all the more frightening.

"Go to hell," Hermione said defiantly, though her voice was shaking. She was scared, but she wasn't going to co-operate. Voldemort got the message.

"So be it," he hissed coldly, raising his wand as he moved towards her. Hermione closed her eyes, waiting for the torture that was surely coming.

"Legilimens!" Voldemort shouted, and Hermione was not expecting what came next at all. It felt as if her head had been completely split open by the spell and Voldemort was in control: memories, thoughts and emotions flashed through her mind. Everything he saw, she saw. They were reading her memory together like a book, though it was Voldemort turning the pages. The memories started very early, her first day at Hogwarts when she was put in Gryffindor. The first time Draco called her a 'Mudblood' in her second year. Memories of using the Time-Turner in her third year, so that she could take on extra classes. Helping Harry during the Triwizard tournament in their fourth year. Creating the 'Dumbledore's Army' and defying Professor Umbridge. Memories of Draco and the Slytherin's bullying her. Memory after memory of her perfect school marks in every subject, continued flashing through. Her perfect marks, her extraordinary magical ability. Memories of teachers reminding her how brilliant she was. Voldemort seemed to take an interest in her intelligence. She even saw flashes of his own memories that perhaps he was reflecting upon after seeing hers. Memories of Tom Riddle in his youth, being praised for his intelligence in exactly the same fashion that she had been. It was bizarre, yet intriguing. Why was he even letting her see this?

Then the memories shifted and changed, flashing so fast that Hermione could barely keep track. Perhaps revealing his memories was a distraction, but even as she considered this and tried hard to remember her Occlumency, Voldemort was digging deeper. Harry complaining about his nightmares, Harry insisting that he hates Snape, Harry unable to learn Occlumency, Harry seeing Voldemort do terrible things in his nightmares... it was all about Harry now. Voldemort was learning as much as he could, all from her eyes. She felt terrible and attempted to push the thoughts out, block the memories. But Voldemort was indeed the master of Legilimency and there was nothing she could do. Then the memories became more recent. She was staying at The Burrow with the Order of the Phoenix, memories of all the members. Voldemort seemed uninterested in this and pushed further forwards. Hermione could sense his hunger for knowledge, he was searching, searching with all his power. She could also sense her own panic as she tried to stop the memories from coming. Then the memory of Ron holding the broken locket: Slytherin's locket, smashed; and the Gryffindor's sword in his other hand. The memory replayed and Hermione sensed fear, confusion in Voldemort. Disbelief, anger, rage. The speed and strength with which he was invading her mind made her head feel like it was going to explode. Then she saw another one of his memories, as he remembered putting Slytherin's locket in the basin of potion. How had these teenagers taken it from him?

His anger made him search faster. It was all about horcruxes now. Tom Riddle's diary, stabbed by the basilisk fang. Marvolo's Ring, broken with Gryffindor's sword. He continued searching, 'three gone... three destroyed'. After what seemed like ages of horcruxes, he moved forwards again to the most recent memories, and also recent thoughts she'd had. Hermione casting the body binding spell on Harry and Ron, so that they could escape. Her being captured and tortured by Bellatrix, Draco levitating her and locking her in the cellar. Voldemort seemed interested in everything recent, everything she had done in the last few days, anything that might give him a clue as to where Harry might be right now. No matter how desperate she attempted to stop the memories, they kept coming. Her cuts, slowly killing her as she begged Draco to heal her. Draco reluctantly healing her to keep her alive for Voldemort, yet also making the fire. Draco casting the snake yet stopping it from hurting her. Then it all changed once again, all of the focus was on Draco. The memories flashed rapidly, every time he'd bullied her, called her names in corridors flooded past. Her punching him in the face in her third year. Memories of how strained and pale Malfoy seemed in their sixth year, while he tried to assassinate Dumbledore. Their constant fighting in the Malfoy Manor just yesterday. The apple rolling into the cellar, her smile. Him asking her if she was good at Occlumency, saying that 'pity towards mudbloods is for blood traitors and scum'. Draco's crestfallen expression as she entered the room, her telling Voldemort to 'go to hell'. The sudden feeling of her head being split open by the Legilimens spell.

Then her eyes burst open and she was back to reality. Without knowing how, she found herself lying on the ground drenched in sweat, shaking uncontrollably, her mind a mess and her head pounding. She felt dizzy as she noticed that Voldemort was leaning against the desk, looking drained.

"How did you know about the horcruxes?" Voldemort demanded, his eyes ablaze with red fury.

"I'm not telling you anything," Hermione responded, clutching her temples.

"Tell me! Crucio!" Voldemort hissed, his wand lashing out and causing Hermione to scream. The pain of Bellatrix's Cruciatus curse was nothing compared to this. She endured Bellatrix doing it for more than twenty minutes at least, but this was an agony that she never thought imaginable. Time seemed to stop, she had no idea whether he'd been doing it for seconds or minutes, and while she'd never contemplated suicide before, every fibre of her being wanted to be dead than endure it any longer. It was enough to make anyone talk. As suddenly as it began, it ended, and all she could do was lay there in shock, her body still involuntarily twitching.

"Tell me or I will find out for myself," said the cold, hate-filled voice. Perhaps it was better to say it, than have him scourge her memories and find something else that she didn't want him to find.

"D... Dumbledore! He knew about your horcruxes and he knew how to defeat you," Hermione gasped. She was satisfied to see Voldemort looking demented with fury at this. A long silence ensued, giving her some time to recover from the Cruciatus curse.

"Dumbledore, the old fool," Voldemort hissed to himself.

"He's not a fool, he's a genius," said Hermione shakily.

"He was capable of so much more, and he's dead. That makes him a fool, girl," Voldemort spat. "While he rots in the grave, I'm alive and immortal."

"You won't be immortal for long, Harry will stop you," Hermione said, as she forced herself to her feet.

"Any chance of stopping me died with Dumbledore, no one else has a chance, least of all Potter, who hasn't been seen in months," Voldemort said coldly. "The boy's a coward, horcrux's or not he cannot stop me."

"If you're going to kill me, you'd better get it over with," Hermione said angrily, refusing to listen to Voldemort's poison. There was a pause as Voldemort considered his next move, but Hermione knew he wasn't going to kill her. There had to be a reason for him taking an interest in her childhood and school grades, because he was trying to figure out her personality, or how to use her. And just like Ollivander had said, Voldemort was keeping him alive simply because of his knowledge of wands. If he wasn't a wand-maker, he would have been killed a year ago. Hermione was no different, she still had information that he might need, and he could even use her against Harry somehow. The thought made her shudder.

"I only kill those who are useless to me. You have important information on Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. I could use you to infiltrate the Order and capture Potter, I could do this by taking some of your hair and having Snape create a Polyjuice potion. But of course, the Order have their own secret passwords and ways of discovering imposters. Another way would be to put you under the Imperius curse and bring them to you, but the Imperius curse can be broken and it wouldn't be worth the risk of letting you escape," said Voldemort, as though he were discussing something as casual as the weather.

"Why are you telling me all of this?" Hermione interrupted.

"Because you have a brilliant mind, like myself, like Dumbledore. Yes, I'll give him that, as weak and misguided as he was, Dumbledore was brilliant. And brilliant minds are by nature, curious minds, Miss Granger. You'll sit in that cellar and out of boredom and curiosity, you'll think about the potential strategies I just suggested. You know Potter and the Order better than I do, you'll know which is more likely to succeed, and why. You'll think about who might fall for the deception of a Polyjuice potion, you'll wonder if these are my only plans, or if I have more, and what those might be,"

"I won't think about any of that," Hermione said angrily.

"Yes you will. You already are," said Voldemort, a sadistic smile spreading across his thin lips. "And you haven't learnt Occlumency, not nearly enough. So you'll stay in that cellar to think, and we'll have these visits, and whether you like it or not, I will learn things about my enemies with that mind of yours that none of my Death Eaters capable of figuring out."

This side of Voldemort was potentially more frightening than she'd imagined. One moment he uses Legilimency to gather as much information he can from her life and those around her, the next he uses rage and torture to wear her down and force a quick answer rather than waste time mind reading, and then he... doesn't even use magic at all. He resorts to mind games. It's as if he sees her and everyone else as nothing more than pawns, pawns on a metaphorical chess board to control and manipulate to achieve his goals. As much as she tried to put on a brave face and act as if none of this surprised her, she knew it was futile. He could read her thoughts without even casting Legilimens.

"I'll spend my time in the cellar practising Occlumency then," said Hermione next, attempting to regain some form of confidence in the situation. He laughed coldly at that, sending a chill down her spine.

"You could practice for years, it'd make no difference."

"Well you don't have years, do you?" said Hermione suddenly. "You think you're so smart, trying to use me to find Harry or the Order. But every day you keep me in that cellar, Harry gets closer to destroying your precious horcrux's."

"He'll find nothing, now that I know what he's looking for," Voldemort snapped. "Now, I have one last question. Where are the most likely places that Potter would go, now that you've been captured?"

"Even if I knew, I wouldn't tell you," said Hermione defiantly.

"Crucio!"

Hermione was later thrown onto the ground in the drawing room of Malfoy Manor. There were dim lights shining above the long table and all of the Death Eaters were seated for what looked like some sort of meeting. Draco had a terrible feeling about what was about to happen. He didn't want to see Hermione die, he'd seen enough people killed in this room already. It was different to watch someone you'd known for so long die, though, no matter how insufferable you found them.

"I have retrieved very important information from this mudblood and she is of no use to me any longer," said Voldemort, seated at the far end of the table.

"Let me kill the filth, my lord!" Bellatrix hissed eagerly, but Voldemort held up his hand for silence.

"No, Draco must do this to make up for his failure to kill Dumbledore," said Voldemort coldly.

Everyone turned to Draco, who was sitting at the table near where Hermione's body lay on the ground, his eyes wide with shock. His terrible feeling was confirmed, this was his opportunity to 'redeem' himself and his family. He remembered Dumbledore's words, 'Draco, you are not a killer. We can help you.' How could anyone help him? It was just like last year, he didn't have any options and if he failed to do what Voldemort asked a second time, he was going to die, or his parents would. He looked to his parents for some sort of support, or guidance. Lucius was watching him murderously, expecting him to uphold the family honour by killing the mudblood. Narcissa had already began to openly cry, and her sobbing was the only sound in the room, as she looked from Voldemort to her son.

Draco slowly stood up and moved to where Hermione was lying on the ground. He drew his wand, trying to calm his heart rate, trying to take deep breaths. All he had to do was say the words, she didn't mean anything to him. Just say the words, get it over with and he would save himself and his family from Voldemort's wrath. His wand hand shook vigorously and sweat began to break out on his forehead. Hermione looked up at him, her chocolate brown eyes sparkling with tears. What on earth had she done to deserve this? What on earth had he done to deserve this? He was seventeen and the act of killing an innocent girl his own age was too much.

"I... I can't," Draco stammered.

"Do it!" Voldemort ordered, his chilling voice echoing throughout the room.

"Ava... Ava-"

"Don't do it! Please!" Hermione said, looking up at Draco pleadingly. She couldn't believe Voldemort was actually going to have her killed, after everything he'd just said about using her to get to Harry and the Order. What made it worse was having Draco do it, of all people. The cruelty of the situation overwhelmed her and she broke out into sobbing. She sounded like Narcissa. She turned to Voldemort now.

"You said you were going to use me to get to Harry!" she cried, but he ignored her. His gaze was set on Draco.

"This is your last chance, Draco. Kill her!" Voldemort hissed. But it was too late, after Hermione's pleading Draco's wand hand faltered. He couldn't kill Dumbledore and Dumbledore hadn't pleaded at all for his life at all... this was too much. It was unconscionable. His wand hand dropped to his side and his wand clattered to the ground. He looked ghostly pale. The Death Eaters at the table muttered in what sounded like shame, but a few looked upon him with pity. They all knew that Draco wasn't capable of murder and by choosing Draco to do it, Voldemort had no intention of killing Hermione anyway. If he had, he would have asked Bellatrix. This was all just part of the Lucius' punishment.

"You will rot in the cellar with the rest of them until I no longer require you," Voldemort said with calculated malice, causing Narcissa to break out into hysteria.

"Please not my son! I'm b-begging you my Lord, he's my only son!" she screamed. But Voldemort paid no attention to her, as he ordered Wormtail to lock Draco and Hermione in the cellar.

Hours had passed and it was night time, though you couldn't tell in the cellar. There were now six prisoners. Griphook and Dean sat in their own corner, mainly quiet and often keeping to themselves. Ollivander, Luna and Hermione sat in another corner and they seemed to be the only ones socialising. Draco was sitting by himself, as far away from the rest as possible. He hadn't said a word to anyone and he especially didn't want to talk to Hermione. He felt as though his world had just been turned upside down. All because of the mudblood, he was separated from his parents, turned from loyal Death Eater to prisoner and locked in a cellar, destined to die.

Even though he knew it was his fault, he still felt as though it was hers. Sure, he was given the opportunity to kill her, but he couldn't do it because she... she was Hermione Granger. The girl that went out of her way to help others, no matter the situation. A girl his own age that he found annoying, self-righteous, but who was completely innocent in every conceivable way. It was her fault for just being her. He sighed. Who was he kidding, though? He couldn't kill Dumbledore either. He doubted he could even use the Killing Curse on the worst Death Eater, if he'd been ordered to. It just wasn't who he was. Dumbledore's words plagued his mind yet again, Draco, you are not a killer. We can help you. Those words made him hate Dumbledore even more. He was both right, and wrong. Draco wasn't a killer, but he sure as hell couldn't be helped by anyone now.

Hermione kept glancing at him and despite trying to ignore her, he looked over and made eye contact. Taking this as an invitation, Hermione walked over to where he was sitting against the wall and sat down beside him. There was silence for a few minutes, as Draco refused to talk. He looked defeated and also angry, and it was obvious that he didn't want to talk to her, but she ignored this.

"Thank you," she said sincerely, breaking the silence.

"I don't want your thanks and I sure as hell don't want to talk to you. It's your fault I'm stuck in this damn cellar," Draco burst out.

"How is it my fault? You made a choice Malfoy, and you made the right choice. You did a decent thing and I'm grateful, I owe you my life," said Hermione in exasperation.

"You have no life, not anymore. The Dark Lord will win this war and everyone in this cellar is going to die," Draco spat, looking away from her. He believed every word he was saying because to him, who could kill Voldemort? Sure, Harry Potter was the 'Chosen One', but Potter was a frightened coward who'd been hiding for months with the mudblood sitting beside him. They weren't fighting a war, they were hiding in the dark like scared children. They were hiding in safety while Draco was fighting alongside Death Eaters, risking his life, being ordered to kill Dumbledore and watch over prisoners. And Gryffindor's were meant to be the brave ones?

"That's not true. There's still hope," said Hermione optimistically, having opposite thoughts entirely. She knew all about the horcruxes, Harry and Ron were still out there and able to stop Voldemort. And once they rescued her, which she hoped they would figure out a way to do, she could help finish the mission Dumbledore had left them. There was still a fighting chance and there always would be while they lived.

"Life isn't all sunshine and rainbows! It's about time you wake up and face reality!" Draco growled, rounding on her.

"Sunshine and rainbows? Do you think that me, Harry and Ron have had it easy these past few months?" Hermione hissed furiously.

"You've had it easier than me, I can promise you that," Draco snapped.

"Oh, sure. For months we've been on the run, with no food, nowhere safe to stay, scared for our lives because of your Death Eater cronies!" Hermione said. Draco looked livid at hearing this. How ignorant could she be? That was the whole reason she'd had it easy: they were always running! Away from danger, away from fear. Which again, in his mind, made them cowards. He'd been stuck in the middle of it all, in the worst place you could be, with Voldemort and the Death Eaters. He'd been ordered to assassinate Dumbledore, watch his father be punished by Voldemort, ordered to practically starve prisoners. Life was hell for him in a way Hermione couldn't possibly imagine.

"Yeah? Well at least you've been able to run. At least you had choices, because I've never had any. While you've been off free with Potter and Weasley, I've been here, in what used to be my home and has become a prison. And in case you haven't noticed, they aren't my Death Eater buddies anymore," he said furiously.

"Well you're still no saint. I remember all the years you bullied me and called me names, even when we were eleven. Sometimes I was too scared to go to class because of people like you." Even as Hermione said the words, she regretted them. He had just spared her life, after all. Due to Voldemort's Legilimency spell however, the memories of Draco bullying her were still vividly in the forefront of her mind, as if they'd only happened yesterday. Sure he was older and somehow, somewhat more mature. He didn't use the childish nicknames that he once used and he didn't strut around like a spoiled brat. But he still called her a mudblood and he was still clearly hated her for it.

"That has nothing to do with this!" Draco said exasperatedly, completely bewildered by what she'd said. "That was years ago, I'm talking about the last few months, not when they were kids!"

"It still matters to me. He... he brought back all those memories with Legilimency. You made our lives hell for years, you've had it much easier than us, especially at Hogwarts," said Hermione. She hoped that mentioning the fact that Voldemort brought the memories back would make him understand, though she still felt bad for bringing it up after he'd just spared her life.

"I don't care. I really don't care, about you, about the past, anything. None of it matters anymore, because we're going to die here eventually anyway," Draco said quickly, shaking his head and standing up to get away from her. He'd had enough of arguing with the bookworm, because she would never admit that she was wrong. Just like in school, she was still a know-it-all.

"'Where there's a will, there's a way'," Hermione quoted, also standing up.

"Where'd you learn that saying? One of your books?" Draco sneered as he walked away from her.

"No, it's a muggle saying. And it means if we have enough determination, we can always solve the problem," Hermione said as she followed him through the cellar. Draco shook his head. He was definitely going to win this argument.

"Oh really? Ollivander, is it in any way possible to get out of here? How many things have you tried?" Draco demanded, looking at the old thin man sitting against the back wall. Draco and Ollivander were almost on a first-name basis. After all, it was Wormtail and then primarily Draco who'd been keeping the wand-maker alive for the last two years. And Draco also knew every escape attempt that Ollivander had tried. Everyone looked at Ollivander, who took a deep breath.

"The door is magically reinforced. I've searched every inch of the floor, walls and roof, they are all thick stone that cannot be broken through with anything we have in here. There is no physical way out. Apparating out of this room is impossible. Wandless magic is also impossible. Animagus transformation is impossible, as is ordinary transfiguration, port keys and Patronus charms. The entire cellar has been enchanted. The only way to escape, is by attacking the next person who opens that door and taking their wand," said Ollivander. When he finished, Draco smirked triumphantly at Hermione, who scowled.

"Fine. Just sit in your corner, miserably waiting to die, if that's what you want," Hermione spat, crossing her arms.

"Good. I'll do exactly that, mudblood," said Draco, sitting against the wall again. Hermione was the only one standing, the only one who still thought escape was possible. It frustrated her to see the other prisoners just lazing about. Surely there had to be something? Luna had a few ideas, all of which involved some sort of creature or object that didn't exist which, if possible, annoyed Hermione even more. She began pacing, trying to remember something from her six years of education that could help.

"Sit down, your constant pacing is so distracting," said Draco irritably.

"Oh, what's it distracting you from? I can't see you doing anything else that's useful," Hermione snapped at him.

"I'm saving my energy so I can live longer, not that it'll make any difference," he said coldly. They glared at each other, then Hermione began pacing again, making Draco groan angrily. They simply were not meant to be in such close proximity. They were opposite in every way, whatever one did seemed to annoy the other. Giving up on telling her to stop, Draco simply watched her walk instead. Hermione ignored his staring, knowing that he was doing it on purpose to make her uncomfortable. She just kept thinking of as many different forms of magic as she could.

"Your little muggle brain just doesn't stop buzzing, does it?" Draco sneered, breaking the silence.

"I don't have a muggle brain! I'm a witch and I'm better at magic than you, so don't talk to me like I'm dumb," Hermione said defensively. Draco snickered to himself. He supposed that spending his time annoying her would be more entertaining than constant silence.

"Aha! I have it!" Hermione suddenly squealed in excitement.

"Mudbloods... they truly are the most unusual creatures," Draco said sarcastically, watching her as she hopped up and down.

"Magical creatures! The spell that stops apparating in here is designed to stop humans from apparating, but not creatures!" said Hermione quickly, overjoyed that she'd figured it out.

"And what creature do you expect to apparate in here and rescue us? A unicorn?" Draco mocked her.

"No, a house elf! Harry will send Dobby or Kreacher, I'm sure of it. It's only a matter of time," Hermione said, lowering her voice as she said this, to be sure no one upstairs could hear. It was her turn to smirk as Draco blinked stupidly. Ollivander smiled.

"Ah, house elves. A brilliant idea, Hermione. But I'm afraid that until Harry thinks of that idea... we are still going to be stuck here," said the old man. Hermione nodded, sitting in between Ollivander and Draco with a smile and new aura of energy. Draco shook his head and moved away from her a bit. Her smile was almost contagious, but there was no way he'd be celebrating with them.

"I know. But he'll send Dobby, I know he will," Hermione said confidently.

Thank you for reading! If you liked this chapter, please feel free to review and add to alerts/favourites! :)

Check out my other stories!

Draco and Hermione - s/5661111/1/Draco-and-Hermione

The Soul Connection - s/9868543/1/The-Soul-Connection

The Time-Turner Division - s/12337018/1/The-Time-Turner-Division