The gates slammed shut with a final clang that spelled the ending for everyone. Hermione stared at the intricately designed metal in horror while screams sounded from the castle.

-3 months ago-

What had the merman said? She could remember it all very clearly. Selecting yet another book from the library shelf, she carried it to her already heavily laden table and leafed through it furiously. In the space of three hours, she read about spirits, ghosts, poltergeists, possessions...Nothing that even remotely sounded like what the merman had described. The Unknown..but what was the Unknown? She had no mental image of it, knew no distinguishing characteristics it may have.

She closed MayWitches' Warnings and rubbed her face tiredly. She was so tired, so very very tired. The only person who knew about this Unknown was in a lake...under several miles of water...the only person...the merman...She suddenly jerked upright. Of course-how could she have missed it? Standing, she hurried into aisle 13 and came back with a very old, dust-covered book. It must be in here, her tired brain murmured, it must be. She found the table of contents and ran her finger down the titles.

Jinnies...red lanterns...frolicking waterbaits...Her finger stopped at the very last title. Darkness. Suddenly, she knew this was it. All the answers were there, just waiting to be revealed. All she had to do was go to page 789. And suddenly she was afraid. Her, of all people, the one who most deserved to know, was scared of the truth. She had come here with a mission to save Draco from whatever had taken him away from her. She had spent ges, suffered multiple beatings for him. But what if it was all for nothing? What if the merman was right and the only way to stop this thing would also stop Draco's heart?

You have to know, her brain murmured tiredly. Then, of their own accord, her hands started turning the pages of the book. She stared down at page 789, the words blurred for a second, she blinked then the page came back into focus.

This is a very obscure monster, known to very few humans, famous amongst merpeople. It is a legend of the unknown. It is believed to have originated in the dark abyss of hell, receiving strength from tortured souls of people who were once evil. How it came to be this way is a mystery.

It has only been unleashed on this Earth once before, so long ago that it's been forgotten by all humankind. However, merpeople remember it well. It was a time when great slaughter occurred. No species was exempt. Centaurs were brought down, giants toppled from their mighty thrones in the mountains. Then the darkness vanished just as suddenly as it had come. To this day, no one knows why it had gone and few dare to speak of it lest it comes back and they are next to be butchered by an unseen hand.

In its vast arsenal of weapons, its deadliest is its ability to give birth to the undead-unnatural beings whose existence flouts all natural laws and is a stain in the eyes of Mother Nature. Demons bow at its feet while angels cower in its presence. It will inhabit a one of its choosing who is of true lineage. From pale hands, destruction will flow. Blood will replace the seas. The bodies of the innocents will pave the streets. Once having established its rule, the darkness will rule over a world forged of pain forevermore.

Hermione fell away from the book. Her breath came in ragged gasps and her chest felt constricted, like she couldn't get enough air. The image created by the book's words lingered in her mind's eye.

"No," she growled. "No!" And suddenly she was outside of the library, going up the staircase, portraits flashing past her, her heartbeat in her ears, her head feeling as if it was about to explode-her trembling legs stopped in front of the headmaster's office. Exhaustion made her sink to the floor. Only then, she realized that her lips were mouthing one word over and over. "Draco..."

The stone wall in front of her slid open and an old man with flowing, silver hair and beard stepped out. His pale eyebrows raised when he caught sight of her.

"Miss Granger! What a pleasant surprise! Why are you on the floor?" He helped her up. "And dusty you are, too! Where have you been?" With a benevolent smile, he took out his wand and magicked the dust off her robes. "There, all better now," he said. His blue eyes flashed as he took in her white face and bloodless lips. "Really! Just where have you been? Did the Bloody Baron pop out of a wall and scare you? That's been a favorite past time of his for quite a while now." He chuckled even though his eyes were quite serious behind his glasses.

Hermione shook her head, her heartbeat strong and regular now. Dumbledore's joking had put her much at ease and, even though the book's words still lingered inside her head, she was able to twitch her lips into what resembled a ghost of a smile.

"No, Professor, it's not the Bloody Baron. May we step inside your office? It's really important and I'm afraid what I have to say isn't for just anybody's ears-just yours," Hermione said, surprising herself with her forwardness.

"Well, I was just about to head off to the staff room but that can wait," the headmaster said. He spun around and gave a nod to the gargoyle who promptly stepped aside. The wall slid open once again and the two of them stepped on the moving staircase which took them to Dumbledore's magnificent office.

He took his seat behind his desk and politely magicked a chair for Hermione. "Please sit," he said. She murmured her thanks, sat, and wondered where to begin.

"Sir," she began. As she explained, the sun slid across the sky and the hour ticked later and later while Dumbledore reclined at his chair, piercing her with his brilliant blue eyes. Several times the constricting of her chest made her stop and pause for a moment but shen she regained her pace and continued with her story. She was determined to let Dumbledore know of the danger that was soon to come. She was also surprised he hadn't realized it or taken action sooner.

It was evening when she finally ran out of words to say. Hermione sat there nervously and waited for the headmaster to say something. When he did, the words that came out of his mouth surprised her.

"Miss Granger, have you seen Madam Pomfrey yet?" Dumbledore asked.

"W-what?" she stuttered, shocked. "Professor, you have to believe-"

"Believe that Mr. Malfoy has been torturing you and that some unknown dark force is going to befall the castle? Miss Granger!" He closed his eyes for a second, then opened them and for a brief moment she thought his pupils seemed to be curiously opaque. Dumbledore continued, "I understand that the recent war between the Wizarding population and Lord Voldemort has been...traumatizing. More so for you, Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley seeming as you three were the ones who played huge roles in bringing about the Dark Lord's downfall. Therefore, I won't hold you accountable for this wild tale that you have just told me. Miss Granger..." He sighed and pulled a piece of parchment towards him. Taking out a quill, he started writing with fast, slanting strokes. "Miss Granger, please pass this note along to Madam Pomfrey and she'll tend to you at once and correctly. You will have no need to worry under her care." He rolled up the parchment, tapped it with his wand, and held it out to her. Numbly, she took it.

"Now, I apologize for my utmost rudeness, but I have to attend a staff meeting. If you should have any more concerns, you of course may call on me." He got up from his desk. "Good luck, Miss Granger," and with that he walked her out.

She was left alone in front of the stone wall protecting the headmaster's office. The piece of parchment was still in her hand. "Incendio," she murmured and the note disintegrated in her hands. Hermione had not the least intention of seeing Madam Pomfrey. She would go back to the lake and sit there for the whole night if she had to. She would talk to the merman again and tell him she couldn't do it. She couldn't kill Draco. They would have to find someone else to do the deed.

She was almost to the castle doors when someone with pale blond hair slid out from the gathering shadows. He smiled at her and, for a moment, she thought her old Draco was back.

His eyes were a warm, liquid blue. "Oh, Draco's not back," he said, tracing the designs on the stone wall with one long finger. "It's still me." His smile widened. "You went to see the headmaster." It wasn't a question, just a statement. "Can you tell me why, Hermione?"

"I know what you are." She was suddenly infused with an invigorating courage. "I know how to kill you."

His smile was a bit mocking now. "Yes, you do, Granger. But you know that, to kill me, you must kill poor...little...Draco." He chuckled underneath his breath. The humor of his statement was, however, lost to her. "You are never going to kill Draco. And how do I know that? It's love. As for me, I do not love. I do not have a weakness and that's what is going to make it so easy for me to kill everyone you know and love and so many more..." He was nearer to her now and her courage started waning. "It's going to make this so boring. I am used to those harder to break." It was as if he was commenting on the weather. He was so very close to her and he extended his hand to lightly run his finger over her cheek. "Don't worry, Hermione, I'll kill you last." And with that, the pale blond boy she loved was gone.

Hermione looked back towards the castle. The screams were louder now and blood was leeching from the windowsills and doors. Her wand was shaking in her grip. Luna suddenly appeared at one of the windows, her rib cage gone. The girl screamed once more and then exploded against the window, shattering the glass. Gore splattered the lawn. Hermione watched all this and then sprinted for the castle doors. Draco, she thought. She was not prepared for the carnage that met her inside.

-2 months ago-

They whispered she was crazy. No one wanted to be near her, to talk to her. She could feel their stares on her back, on her face. She felt crazy. Even when she was sleep, she dreamed of slaughtered children and the blood that was to come. She had tried to warn them. The danger's coming! We have to go! We have to prepare! You're all going to die! Why can't you see that? They didn't listen to her, like Dumbledore hadn't. They stared at her with sympathy and revulsion. She's traumatized from the war, they said. She needs help, they said.

Hermione had gone to the merman. She had told him that she couldn't do it, there was no way she could point her wand at Draco, even though he was a monster, even though everyone was going to die because of her decision. He had listened to her with expressionless eyes and had returned to his home underwater. They were going to prepare for it, she knew. She had seen the centaurs appearing, one by one, from the Forbidden Forest to stare at her. So much accusation in their eyes. Because of your weakness, thousands will die! But Draco had been right, the darkness had been right. Love is a weakness and she was fused with it, filled to the brim with it.

She could feel it. The darkness was growing stronger. Hermione stared at the students lounging about the common grounds.

"You're all going to die," she whispered. "And so am I."