A/n: Thank you to all the wonderful reviewers! Here you go! I'll try to
get two more out before the shutting down of fanfiction.net on the 14th and
15th. At least there will be an original-only site, now. Maybe I'll get
more reviews on my one original fic, Under Stone Eyes. (Just a little bit
of self-promotion, there. When you have two chapters up and three reviews,
ya get discouraged.) As a side note, I got an 88 on my French test today!
I'm very happy as the first time I took the test I got a 68-which, sadly,
was one of the top scores for any class, hence the reason the teacher let
us all redo it.
"A constant wave of tension on top of broken trust. The lessons that you taught me I learn were never true Now I find myself in question." --Linkin Park
Chapter Eleven: Destiny's Changes
Hermione remained silent and still beside her foes at the High Table, staring at her shoes and praying that somehow, someway, something would happen to prevent the massacre that was about to occur. Please, she begged to some higher power, praying that for once she would be heard, please stop this. I know I can't help myself, but get my friends out of this.
She was jerked from her prayers by a voice yelling, "Hermione, no! Please say this is all some sort of misunderstanding!" Her head snapped up and she saw Ron standing up, looking scared, confused, and horrified. She wanted desperately to yell to him to sit down, to avoid being hurt, but the spell Voldemort had placed on her was still active as ever and it kept her from saying anything to protect him.
Voldemort's head swiveled to face Ron, who took no notice, as he was too busy staring at Hermione. "Foolish boy!" roared Voldemort and Ron looked over at Voldemort angrily. "You dare to speak to a Death Eater? You dare to be so brash and obvious about such a crime?"
"You!" growled Ron. Hermione stared. What's he doing? He's lost it! Indeed, it appeared he had. His eyes contained a wild, burning rage. She could see him trembling in anger even from her distance and could see the white tone to his skin. His eyes were bulging unnaturally. "This is your fault, I know it! You made Hermione do this. Leave her alone! Don't go anywhere near her!"
Voldemort stared and Hermione felt her throat go tight in terror. He was going to kill Ron! She opened her mouth, but closed it again. She knew she would not even be able to say anything in protest.
"You are truly a fool," said Voldemort, his snake eyes narrowed dangerously. Ron showed no signs of backing down. He was standing straight and proud, angrily facing a sight most people would have fainted at seeing. "I shall teach you. Not Avada Kedavera-you will not be granted the privilege of a quick and painless death. You will be locked up. Crucio!"
Ron fell to the floor screaming and Hermione, too, broke from her trance. "RON!" she screamed. "Ron, no!" She knew Voldemort was watching her, knew she was taking her life into her hands, but did not care. She'd stopped caring for her life a while ago. She started to run down the steps leading up to the High Table. All she could think of was getting to Ron, who had now stopped screaming and lay panting on the floor by Gryffindor Table. Everyone else was too scared to move towards him, to move at all. The only sound came from Ginny's screaming sobs as she stared at her fallen brother in terror. It was as though she was in a still photograph and she was the only thing that could move.
Until Voldemort moved. "No, you don't!" he howled. "CRUCIO!"
Hermione also fell, but this time felt no remorse for trying to get to Ron. Perhaps if the pain had not confused her senses, she'd have heard Hagrid, Ginny, and most of the rest of Gryffindor table gasp or cry out in horror and fright for her. Perhaps she'd have known that they did not blame her. But by the time that the pain had ended, silence had fallen once more.
Even after the pain had ended and she was on her knees crying, she knew of only one desire-to get Ron and escape. She'd stayed strong and put up with everything for long enough. She couldn't do it anymore. She started to get up, but Ron's shout stopped her.
"NO! Hermione, stay put," Ron begged her from where he was. The anger in his eyes had receded. As he looked at her, she could see no more than painful regret. For a moment, their eyes locked and the world seemed to evaporate. Ron could see the terror and pain in Hermione's eyes-could see a broken look in them he'd never thought he'd see. Hermione could see Ron's fear and sympathy for her, could see all the strength it was taking him to stay where he was.
"Yes," Voldemort whispered menacingly, walking slowly over to where Hermione was. "Do stay put. We would not want any accidents to result from your lack of disobedience, would we?" Hermione, frozen in fear, but still in a mental state of panic, remained where she was.
Hermione did not move and held her eye contact with Ron. She did not know how he felt about her right then, whether he was angry or hated her or didn't care, but she was glad he cared enough to try to help her. She wasn't sure how exactly he could have enough forgiveness in him to forgive her. She saw his eyes widen and they moved to look at something looming behind her. Hermione saw a shadow on the floor in front of her and tensed, knowing who it would be.
A moment later, Voldemort's cold, long-fingered, pasty hands rapped themselves around her arms. Hermione let a sob escape her lips. I can't take this anymore . . . she thought, panicked. He jerked her to her feet and she cried out in protest and fear. Ron was watching the whole scene, looking livid and worried.
"I know you are not loyal to me," he hissed at her so that only she could hear, "but you had better do as I say or else your life will become quite miserable indeed."
"My life is miserable. Dying is what I want," she replied defiantly, not looking him in the face.
"Who said anything about death? Now go!" He shoved her back up the steps toward Malfoy and Snape. She stumbled and fell, and suddenly had no desire to get up. Why should she? To face everyone and to do Voldemort's bidding? No. She'd had enough. If they wanted her to get up, they'd have to force her.
They did. She'd only been lying on the steps panting and crying for a minute when a pair of hands grabbed her and jerked her to her feet. Hermione stumbled up and saw it was Draco who'd pulled her to her feet. She pulled her arm away. "Get off," she snarled in a low voice so no one else could overhear.
"Do you want to die?" he replied in annoyance.
She mistook his words for a threat. "Yes. Kill me, Malfoy. You'd be doing me a favor," she told him truthfully, her eyes daring him to do what the spell prevented her from doing herself.
"I'm not going to kill anybody," he snapped, averting his eyes a little. "But Voldemort will if you stay down there. There's no guarantee he'll kill you though-probably just torture you. And I know you don't want that."
Hermione opened her mouth to reply, but Voldemort had begun speaking once again and everyone fell silent. Hermione turned her back on Malfoy, blinking the tears from her eyes and regaining control over herself.
"Now you see what will happen if you defy me. And you see what happens when you join me. There is no escape. Think about that, because you will be forced to make such a decision shortly. Do not make the wrong-"
A deafening roar filled the room, cutting off Voldemort and turning everyone's heads. The sound was gone a moment later, but then the word, "STUPEFY!" rang out thunderously through the Great Hall. Three Death Eaters guarding the door leading out to the entrance of the school fell hard to the stone floor. Again, the word rang out and more men fell.
The Death Eaters stood staring. Voldemort roared, "WHO IS RESPONSIBLE FOR THIS ACT OF DEFIANCE?!"
"I am."
Through the doorway stepped Harry, his wand held firmly in his right hand. "Everyone, run!" he yelled and turned his wand on the Death Eaters against the far door. He managed to perform the spell one more time before he dove under a table to avoid the same curse sent at him by a Death Eater. This was the last moment of shocked stillness.
Pandemonium broke out. Kids and teachers jumped from tables and ran, screaming, toward one of the exits. Everyone's wands had been confiscated upon their arrival in the Great Hall, so they were left with no defense. Death Eaters were swarming the unblocked exits and Voldemort was yelling angrily at the top of his lungs. Hermione, Draco, and Snape stood stationary on the High Table, the only ones not moving, staring at the insanity going on below them. Harry continued to aim the Stunning spell at every Death Eater he saw, but more and more were firing at him and he was becoming more and more trapped.
Many lucky students had managed to break from the Great Hall and were stampeding from the school as fast as they could. The Death Eaters were having quite a hard time stopping them, because they would get run down by all the kids if they stepped in. Hermione scanned the sea of insanity for her friends and spotted Harry, ducked under Hufflepuff table, unseen by any Death Eaters for the moment. Ron was trying to jerk Ginny who apparently was in severe shock, with him toward an exit, but he was quickly becoming more and more exposed and a much easier target. Without their wands, Ron and Ginny were trapped.
Hermione tucked a hand into the pocket of her robes and fingered her wand. It was her last hope, her only chance of escape. Without it, she was truly lost. If she lost it willingly, Voldemort would not replace it. But if she didn't give it up, two of her best friends were sure to die. And she knew, whether she chose to admit it to herself or not, that her time was limited no matter her decision. She may die, but she would do everything she could to assure her friends did not meet the same fate. Before Voldemort or Draco could stop her, she pulled it out.
"Ron!" Hermione yelled and he looked up at her. She threw him the wand and he caught it, looking stunned and stopping to stare at her. "Take it and get Ginny and Harry out!"
She was surprised the spell Voldemort had placed on her allowed her to do that much. Perhaps it was wearing off, little by little. She did not know, nor did she care, as long as Ron escaped.
She could not hear him over the deafening roar of shouts and screamed, but she saw him mouth the words, "What about you?"
Hermione shook her head and looked away. "Go," she whispered, knowing he would read her lips and that he probably would not hear her anymore than she had heard him. "Leave me."
At that moment, Ginny appeared to become more focused and Ron jerked her to her feet. Harry had made it to Gryffindor table, where he was now hiding, and he notified Ron of this by tugging at his robes. Both boys now wielding wands, they headed toward one of the exits. Hermione noticed Harry clutching his scar and he appeared to be in great agony. Most kids were gone by now, though many unlucky ones were lying on the floor, stunned, or were being held by Death Eaters. The fewer kids there were, the harder it was for Harry and Ron to escape. No longer was there as much cover.
Voldemort himself was now aiming spells at the two. Hermione had never seen his eyes look more maddeningly red. Harry was sending his own spells back at Voldemort, but all missed or were blocked. Finally, though, one of the spells hit Ginny. It was the Stunning Spell, so she dropped to the floor, unconscious. Ron tried to lift his little sister, but she was too heavy for him. Harry had to tackle Ron to the floor to keep him from getting hit with the Cruciatus Curse.
"Use the levitation spell on her," Hermione whispered to herself. "Come on, guys."
She felt something jab her hand and looked down. It was Draco's wand. She pulled her hand away, not even bothering to give him a dirty look. Again, the wand poked her, and she looked at him. He stared at her blankly. Hermione began to comprehend him and looked down at the wand-which was held out of the side of his hand in a secretive way, pointing right at her-then back up at him.
"Take it," he whispered, then turned his focus once more to the pandemonium.
Hermione was wary of a trick, but grabbed the wand anyway, knowing it was her one chance. She tucked it inside her robes. She could not use it against anyone here and there was nothing she could do to help Harry, Ron, and Ginny. However, there might be a chance for her to use it to help herself later.
Harry had woken Ginny, and Ron and his sister were running from the door toward the outside when she looked again. Harry hesitated at the door and looked back at her. He was risking his life standing there motionless for more than a moment, but he did not seem to care. Hermione felt self- conscious and horrible under his gaze.
"I'm sorry," she mouthed, fighting hard not to look away from him. She couldn't fight the silent tears that streamed down her face.
Harry nodded. "We'll come back for you!" he yelled, and as the pandemonium was dying, she heard him, faintly. He turned and ran from the door, and Voldemort's spell hit the doorframe, instead of Harry.
She felt frightened, his words echoing over and over in her head. She knew he would come back. Don't do it, Harry, she thought. Don't be stupid. There's nothing you can do for me.
But she knew he would come anyway.
******************
Harry and Ron ran out of the school and onto the grounds, desperate to get away from Voldemort and the destruction of the Great Hall. Ginny was still needing to be pushed along by Ron, still appearing to be deep in shock.
"Where do we go?" Ron gasped to Harry. "There's no place safe!"
"The forest," said Harry determinedly, speaking through teeth gritted with pain. His scar was burning worse than he'd ever felt it. The only thing fighting off the pain enough to keep him standing was the adrenaline coursing through his veins. "Safest for now. We'll hide there until it gets dark or the Death Eaters leave, then we'll sneak into Hogsmeade and get some people who will be willing to help us."
"Help us do what?" asked Ron incredulously.
"Save Hermione," replied Harry shortly, and Ron could tell that even if he'd wanted to, there would be no reasoning with Harry on this subject. Both boys turned to look back at their school, at the blown out windows and Death Eaters running from the door, at the spells flying. And worst of all, at the green Dark Mark hovering menacingly over it.
Together, they turned and raced toward the forest, their last chance for survival.
********************
"LOOK AT THIS! ALL POTTER! Once again he has ruined everything!"
The Great Hall was in shambles. The tables that had once stood so elegantly were now burned and broken, the Ravenclaw table split right at the middle. There were burns and singe-marks on the walls, and holes in the draperies. The floor was littered with dust, debris, and blood. Death Eaters ran everywhere and Voldemort was yelling in a way to make everyone fear for their lives. The beautiful satin banners that had once hung along the walls, each depicting the colors and animal of their respective house, were now in various states of disrepair. The Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw banners were singed and torn in places, hanging limp. The Gryffindor banner had been ripped entirely in two. Only half remained hanging dismally at an odd angle, the head of the lion and a bit of yellow and red all that was visible. The Slytherin banner hung next to it, looking as good as new.
Hermione and Draco stood silently beside one another in front of Voldemort, waiting for him to turn his attention to them. Hermione was quivering in fear and she noticed that even Draco was wincing and jumping at Voldemort's every syllable.
"You two!" Voldemort looked down at them and the two naturally shrank back. "Why did you do nothing while Potter ruined everything?! You in particular, Draco."
Draco winced inwardly. "Uh, I was confused. I've never been in a situation like that before and I didn't know-"
Voldemort didn't let him finish. "Some Death Eater you are!" he roared. "Go find your father and help him seek out Potter. You, girl, sit. I will be dealing with you personally. Do not think I have forgotten your antics at the gathering."
Draco hurried off, glancing back at Hermione with an unreadable expression. Hermione sat down on the steps and watched the Death Eaters, while Voldemort stalked down to yell at people from a closer range. She felt terrified, but also oddly relaxed. Most of the students and staff had escaped. Only thirty students had been caught and three teachers. All were being held in the dungeons of the Malfoy home-where she now assumed she'd been held over Christmas-for the time being. As far as Hermione knew, Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Hagrid remained free. Life was not going to get better, she knew-if anything, it would get much worse. But at least Harry had saved everyone. If only he would stop trying to save her.
Her mind was occupied with questions and worries. She could feel Draco's wand sitting in her pocket and her thoughts turned to it. What was he playing at, giving her that wand? Why had he done it? He had even lied to Voldemort about it-and lying to Voldemort was not something that was commonly done. She didn't know what to think of Draco at that point.
"Get up."
Hermione looked up and saw a man with a glowering expression staring at her. She leaped to her feet. "Voldemort told me to wait here," she replied, trying to sound haughty and cocky like one of them. Maybe if she did he would leave her alone.
"I know. The Master also told me to take you to a holding cell where you are to remain until he gets around to you. He's busy and you aren't top priority, Mudblood. So move. I'm to Apparate you to Malfoy Manor."
Hermione had been called a Mudblood so much this past year that it no longer even bothered her. Words were nothing compared to the pain she had suffered. If anything, she was proud of being Muggle-born. She didn't care what they thought. She would not let them ridicule her for that as well. She walked down the steps and out of the Great Hall, trying to mentally unknot her stomach, the Death Eater following her all the way.
*******************
Darkness seemed to have fallen, though in the Forbidden Forest, where it was always night, it was hard to be certain. Harry and Ron had traveled deep into the forest, looking for somewhere to hide for a while. They had spotted Hagrid on their way to the forest. He had tried to get them to come along with him to Hogsmeade-he said he knew a way that would get them safely out for certain. Ron had been interested in going, but Harry had adamantly refused, and Ron, in the end, stood by him. Ron had made Ginny go with Hagrid though, not wanting to have to risk his little sister when they went back for Hermione.
"Get her to my mum and dad," Ron had said to Hagrid. "And tell them . . . tell them I'm alive and fine. But there's something I have to do here. Tell them I can't go home until I've done it."
"Hermione," Hagrid had stated simply.
"Yeah," agreed Ron. They'd been forced to separate after that, when a group of Death Eaters had almost spotted them and that was the last they'd seen of each other.
Harry and Ron had soon after found an indentation in a rock overhang where they'd stopped. They had decided it was the best that they would be able to do. The Forbidden Forest was not a welcoming place to humans and there weren't many cozy places to be found.
They'd remained silent for a while, both wrapped up in their own thoughts and too deep into thinking them to share them. Finally, Ron spoke up, in a weak, dead-sounding voice. "I can't believe it all. If you'd have told me all this was going to be happening a month ago, I'd have owled my dad and told them to put you with Neville's parents. It's impossible."
"Apparently not, as it has happened," Harry mumbled, pulling apart a stick with his fingers and stripping the bark off, layer by layer. The pain in his scar had lessened, though it was still hurting. It hurt whenever Voldemort was close or feeling murderous; right now he was both, so he supposed he would have to expect his scar to continue causing him pain.
Ron looked at him. "Hermione will be okay, Harry."
Harry shook his head. "No she won't. You saw what Voldemort did to her right in front of everyone. I saw it too, in case you were wondering. I'm certain he's the one that beat her up before. She's not safe."
Ron gave him a quizzical glance. "Beat her up?" he demanded. "What's that about?"
"I don't want to explain right now. Long story short, Ginny saw that she had a whole bunch of cuts and bruises on her back on the trip back from Christmas holidays. Must have been Voldemort. He probably kidnapped her or something, and that's when she . . ."
"She didn't become a Death Eater willingly, Harry," Ron said. "I know it. It's Hermione we're talking about. I don't know why she is one, or how it happened, but he forced her. That's why she's been so distant the past weeks. I'm surprised she hasn't killed herself. I think I would have."
"I know it's not her fault," Harry replied, still picking apart the stick and talking in a low voice. "I didn't know what to think at first, but once my brain started working again I realized that. But that just scares me even more. Ron, I love her. I don't know when my feelings for her became that strong, but I do. I can't stand it, knowing she's at the hands of the most evil man in the world. It's driving me crazy. Thinking what the Death Eaters could be doing to her . . ."
"We'll get her out," Ron said determinedly.
"I'm not leaving until I do," Harry growled, his voice turning hard again. "I don't know how we'll get her out or what we'll do about Voldemort after that, but it's one step at a time."
"Well, then the first step is getting some sleep. We can't do anything tonight," Ron said. Harry nodded numbly, but didn't reply. Ron knew he would not be sleeping and sighed. He attempted to change the subject. "How many people do you reckon got out?"
Harry shrugged. "Most of the school, thank God. I can't imagine what would have happened if I hadn't been outside."
"Did McGonagall get out?"
"I don't know. I didn't see her on the grounds. I hope so."
"Dumbledore?"
"I don't know where he is," Harry said, seeming to realize it for the first time. "I didn't see him at all when everyone was there. Voldemort wouldn't have overlooked him. I just hope he got away. If he did, then there's still a chance. If he didn't . . ."
"Don't even say it, Harry," Ron said dully, shaking his head. He went silent for a moment, and looked up at the tall, black trees above them. Finally, he spoke again. "This is all too much. I remember Dad telling us last year at the World Cup when we asked about the Dark Mark that we wouldn't understand it. We wouldn't understand the terror it inspired and the way people had to live when You-Know-Who was in power. We insisted we would. Well, Dad was right. We had no idea, I know that now. We didn't even truly understand when Percy got murdered. I understand, now, though. This is the worst thing ever. I can't believe it's even happening."
"I know. And we're the lucky ones, Ron. Not everyone got out of Hogwarts. A lot of our classmates are still stuck back there. I don't even know what's happened to Hermione. We're just lucky that we're out here and that we have a chance to fight. Most people don't."
Ron nodded. "Do you think Ginny will be all right?"
"Hagrid will take care of her. You know that."
"Yeah, I'm not saying he won't. I'm just worried about her. Hagrid's big, but he can't do magic. Ginny doesn't have her wand and when I left her, she was half-unconscious anyway. If they ran into a group of Death Eaters, they'd be in a lot of trouble," Ron explained. "I can't lose her, Harry. I already lost Percy and we weren't even that close, for brothers. You saw what it did to me. Ginny and I are pretty close-closer this year than ever. I can't lose her too. On top of it all, I don't think I can take it."
"She's safer than us, Ron," Harry replied, finally setting down the stick and resting his arms at his side. "She'll be fine." He sighed, ran his hands through his hair and stood. "I'll take first watch. You go to sleep."
Ron watched his friend warily. "Harry, you aren't going to do anything crazy while I'm asleep, are you? You're not going to try to sneak back to the edge of the forest or something, right? Getting yourself caught isn't going to help her. I don't trust you not to do that. Maybe I should take watch."
Harry shook his head. "No, I'll watch. I'm not going to go crazy, Ron. But I'm not going to be able to sleep, either, so it makes no sense for me to lay there awake and let you-who could sleep and take advantage of an opportunity that I don't think will be coming along too frequently from here on out-take watch. Just sleep."
Ron nodded and then used his hands to group a pile of dry leaves together for a pillow. Harry climbed up to the top of the rock under which was the opening where they'd been hiding. He let his feet dangle over the side and when Ron looked back up, he narrowly dodged getting hit by one of his friend's sneakers. Ron settled back into the silence, lying down. He shifted back and forth, unable to find a comfortable position. The wand kept jabbing into his ribs. Finally, he sat up and pulled the wand from his robes. He looked at it with a thoughtful expression and finally called up to Harry.
"What is it?" Harry asked, looking down.
Ron fingered the wand, then handed it up to Harry. Harry gave him a quizzical look, but took the wand, slowly. "What are you doing?" he asked. "You need a wand, too. I have mine."
"I know," Ron replied. "That's Hermione's wand. She threw it to me to help me. It's not much, but I figure maybe it'll help you to have her wand. Just give me yours and I'll use it. There's not as much power in a wand if it isn't used by its rightful owner, but there's still enough. And if we have to fight, we can trade back, if you like."
Harry looked at the wand in interest. In the pandemonium back in the Great Hall, he had not seen Hermione throw Ron her wand. He'd simply assumed Ron had his own somehow. He dimly took his own wand from his pocket and handed it to Ron. A moment later, the boy lay back down on the forest floor and silence overtook them again.
In the dim half-light, Harry studied the wand, rolling it over in his hands. Now Hermione wasn't even armed. He tried not to think about it, as it was hard enough to face Voldemort with a wand. Without one it was impossible. He set the wand down on the rock beside him and stared out in the direction of the castle, though it was many miles away now.
We're coming, Hermione, Harry thought. Just hold on.
*****************
Draco walked briskly down the hall of his home, heading for his father's study where Voldemort was currently resting. It was four in the morning of the day after the takeover of Hogwarts. The sun would be rising soon and a new day would begin-one in which Voldemort was ruler. He felt a mixture of pride and apprehension at this fact. He was still confused about his own feelings, which was odd for him. He usually knew exactly what he was thinking and what he was doing. Part of him was happy that Voldemort had finally taken his place as an opposing leader. Another part of him, a darker, deeper part, wasn't as sure. He still hated Dumbledore, Cornelius Fudge and most of the powerful, ruling wizards of the Light side. Those were the figures he had always seen as representing the Light-men he'd been raised to hate. Yesterday, though, he had started to see the real Light side: his fellow students and the casual occupants of the wizard world. Voldemort was willing to kill them all to take over. For once, he was beginning to question whether or not that was right.
He stopped at the door to his father's study and raised his hand, knocking timidly on the wood. It was usually a good idea to be wary when he was just disturbing his father, let alone both Lucius and Voldemort.
"What is it?" growled his father's voice from the other side of the door.
"It's me, Father," Draco said, trying his best to sound respectful. "You summoned me, right?"
"Yes, yes. Come in."
Draco twisted the handle of the door and stepped in. Voldemort was sitting behind his father's desk, leaning back and looking furious. Lucius was pacing in front of the desk, looking as though he were trying to contain his fear by agreeing with everything Voldemort had to say. Both looked up at Draco as he entered and he winced inwardly. An angry Voldemort. Just what he needed to top off this already turbulent day. He closed the door quietly and stepped forward to kneel in front of the desk.
"I greet you, Master," he said, using the phrase that people as low as he had to to greet Voldemort.
"Stand up, boy!" Voldemort snapped. "I haven't the time for casual greetings. Do not waste my time."
Draco leaped to his feet immediately, feeling irritated though not daring to show it. If he hadn't knelt, Voldemort probably would have executed or tortured him on the spot. He certainly would have found time for that. However, he dared not say any such thing out loud. Even looking annoyed at Voldemort's command could result in death. "Yes, Master," he replied, keeping his eyes lowered respectfully.
"You are a good source of information to us, Draco," Voldemort said, but it was clear this was no compliment. "You have been to Hogwarts for five years. You know many things. Hermione Granger will be no help to us in that respect. I'm beginning to think that she has just about been used for all she is worth. She is regaining that foolish sense of pride and she has basically already lost everything dear to her. She's becoming a person with nothing to lose and that is a danger to us. Certainly, we will attempt to pressure her into revealing information-torture her, perhaps. However, I'm fearing that she will give us false information. Soon, I think we will have to kill her."
Draco made no response to any of this. "There's still Professor Snape," he suggested. "He would know more than I would, right?"
"Yes," Voldemort replied slowly. "Logically, yes, he would. Unfortunately, I doubt his loyalty to me. While I can talk with him about information, I would like information from you to verify most of it. There will be things you won't know, true, but I think for the most part you can help us."
"I am happy to serve you in any way you see fit, Master."
"Good. So, to start out, I have a few questions about Granger and the attack upon Hogwarts. Unless I'm much mistaken, she tossed her wand to the foolish boy that stood up to defy me in the Hall."
"Yes, sir, she did," Draco confirmed.
A look of fury overcame Voldemort. "She is definitely to be killed. She has already betrayed me, found a way around the spell to do it. She's too much of a risk. Lucius, I will ask you to interrogate her soon."
Lucius nodded. "Yes, Master. When I am done, am I to kill her?"
Voldemort considered. "I am not sure," he finally said. "I will tell you before you go." Lucius nodded again.
Voldemort turned back to Draco. "So, the boy has her wand, now?" he demanded.
"Yes, sir."
"So she would not have a wand, correct?"
Draco's insides began to freeze. God, he knows! I was such a fool to give her my wand. Why should I care if she dies? I should have known I'd get caught. Her life isn't more important than mine, right? She was already doomed. He thought quickly for an excuse. "No, sir, she wouldn't have a wand," Draco replied, trying to sound puzzled, all the while fighting the urge to run.
"Yet, when the Death Eater responsible for bringing her here from Hogwarts and locking her up searched her, he found this." Voldemort pulled Draco's wand from his robes, and Draco knew his worst fears had been confirmed. Draco tried to look confused.
"This, obviously, is not her wand," he went on. "So, the question remains, whose is it?"
"I . . . I do not know, Master," Draco said. Now it was his life on the line. He'd just lied to Voldemort. That was not a mistake anyone was allowed to make twice.
Voldemort nodded, making an indistinct sound in his throat. "Let me see your wand, Draco," Voldemort commanded.
Draco sighed, and tried to look guilty, which wasn't hard. "I lost it, sir," he said quietly. This was not something one got rewarded for. His father had beaten him when he was little for losing his wand. He'd never made that mistake again. "When Potter came and everyone was running. Someone knocked into me and I dropped it. I couldn't find it again. I'm sorry."
Though Draco did not look, he could feel Voldemort's eyes studying him and he tried not to squirm in his discomfort. "Is that so?" Draco did not reply, as it was clearly a rhetorical question. "Then, could this wand possibly be yours?"
"I suppose it could be, sir. I never considered that possibility. I didn't even know she had a wand after she threw hers," Draco lied, trying to sound casual.
Voldemort threw the wand at Draco. His reflexes were not quick enough to catch it and it fell to the ground in front of his feet. Draco picked it up, his hands trembling just slightly. He stared hard at it, looking at it. He already knew it was his, but he had to make it appear as though he didn't. Finally, he nodded. "Yes, sir," he said quietly. "It's mine."
"Do you have any idea of the implications that your foolishness could have had on our side?" Voldemort demanded in a low, dangerous tone. "Do you realize that by not looking hard enough for your wand-and not reporting its loss to me-could have landed that wand in the hands of someone who would use it against us? It did, too, in case you were not clear on that point. Had she not been hampered by my spell and had my guard not searched her, we would have a serious problem on our hands! Harry Potter's earlier actions have screwed up enough! I don't need you messing things up too!"
Draco shook his head. "No, sir. I was an idiot. I'm sorry."
"If this ever happens again Draco, you will be losing your life along with that wand. Do you understand?" Draco nodded. "And don't think that you are getting off without punishment. Once things have died down, I might take the time to impose a punishment. I'm sure your father intends to. Not now, though. We haven't the time. Go and stay out of the other Death Eaters' way. I'll call for you when I have need of you."
"Yes, Master," Draco muttered, clutching his wand tightly and turning to hurry from the room.
He felt much better once the door that separated him from Voldemort was shut securely. He leaned his back against the wall next to the door and let out a relieved sigh. He'd lied to Voldemort and had not been caught. That wasn't something most Death Eaters-most people in general-could say they'd done. It had almost seemed too easy.
Suspicious, he knelt by the floor and pressed his ear against the tiny crack between the door and floor, trying to hear the conversation inside.
Draco's father was speaking. "I told you, sir, that Draco would do as commanded. He's a weak, pathetic boy with illusions of grandeur. He'll never make it with the type of mentality he has. He'll bully anyone less than him, but won't dare stand up to anyone greater. He can be a terrible embarrassment at times. I wish almost once a day he wasn't my son. The only good thing about him is that even if he ever decided he didn't agree with us, he would not have the guts to do anything about it. He'll follow orders. He'll do what I taught him. Draco's like a robot-it's all he's good for."
His father's words hit him as hard as a physical blow. His head snapped back for a moment, feeling the bitter sting of rejection. He had always known that Lucius was ruthless and disappointed in him at times, but he'd never known that his father's disappointment reached into hatred and loathing. He'd never cared what people thought about him. Not once, when he'd heard a teacher or fellow student talking about what a menace and an annoyance he was had he ever taken offense. Now he felt the pain of it. He'd always tried to please his father. Apparently, he'd failed terribly. It was hard to focus on Voldemort's words, hard to push past the pain he was feeling to listen further, but he forced himself to put his ear back to the door.
"You are blind, Lucius," Voldemort snarled. "He was lying to me about the wand. I feel certain he gave the girl his wand. I know not why, but I know he did. Therefore, you do not know him as well as you thought. He is not following orders-he is going against us. I want him killed."
"But sir-"
"No buts! I've made exceptions for you and your family in the past, Lucius, but this is not something I can excuse. This is betrayal. And I intend to kill the source of it before that betrayal goes further and becomes a problem."
"The Granger girl has certainly betrayed us more than my son."
"And she too will die, once we have gathered all information from her. Leave the boy be for a few hours. Then go and speak with him again. See if he will admit he lied."
"If he does, you will spare his life?"
"No. It will simply decide whether he dies by torture or Avada Kedavera."
Draco's breath caught in his throat. He scrambled to his feet and took a few steps back, staring blankly at the door. They were going to kill him! There was no way he could escape. He looked around himself. The mansion he lived in was wide and spacious, a place where no one could feel claustrophobic. However, he felt as though the walls were pressing in on him, showing him there was no escape. He broke into a run, heading down the north passage toward his bedroom.
He had to get away. He couldn't just sit there and let them kill him. His steps faltered as he remembered that he had the Dark Mark emblazoned on his arm. Voldemort could track him down as long as he had that mark-and there was no way to get rid of it. He kept moving, but slower. Draco knew he'd still have to get away. He'd have to try, at least. Even if he didn't make it, he could try.
His father's words came back to him. Before, he'd never have thought that his father would allow him to be killed, but now, both from the conversation he'd overheard and his father's opinion of him, he knew Lucius would do nothing to stop it. Lucius didn't even want Draco for a son. Draco felt anger come over him. He was right about me before, he decided begrudgingly. I was a mindless follower. But he knows nothing about me now. The tables have turned, Father, and for once, your robot of a son knows the truth and what's right. And he'll stand up for it.
He ran up the stairs, his resolve hardening with each step. If they didn't want him here, they wouldn't have him here. And if they wanted to kill him, they'd have to find him. If they succeeded in killing him, they'd at least know that they'd all been wrong-Draco Malfoy would not sit back and accept death. He reached his bedroom and grabbed his old cloak off the hook behind the door.
He did not pause to take anything else. The less he had, the more easily he could run. He poked his head out the door, but saw many Death Eaters around. He sighed, forcing the nervous beating of his heart to calm. He'd have to wait until things calmed down some, so he could inconspicuously slip out. Voldemort had said they were going to give him a few hours. He'd wait one hour, then leave. He couldn't risk any longer than that.
As he paced his room uncomfortably, his thoughts flowed over everything that had happened. Everything he'd believed in had come crashing down in a few short minutes. Fifteen years of training and beliefs had been broken down entirely in fifteen minutes. It was too much to take in.
For the first time since the meeting, his thoughts strayed to Hermione Granger. He knew she was being held in their dungeons-which were used as prisons-at that very moment. It was where she'd been held over Christmas. They were going to kill her, too.
Part of him didn't care. His life was in danger too. Every man for himself. He'd already gotten himself into that predicament by giving her his wand. He'd felt that maybe she could get herself out with it. He'd done enough for her. He'd been an idiot and now he was seeing where that had landed him. Forget her. Let her get herself out. She should have done a better job at hiding that wand.
But the other part of him was thinking differently. His father's words plagued him: "He'll do what I taught him. Draco's like a robot-it's all he's good for." His father had been right. He'd stuck to his childhood training and teachings with a flare, even now. And still he was following them. Leaving Hermione was what Lucius would do. He didn't want to be his father's clone any longer. He tried to figure out what someone else would do. What he would do.
It came to him in less than an instant. He had to save her. He didn't know why-perhaps it was just an act of rebellion, something to prove to Lucius he could stand up for something other than the Dark side. Maybe it was guilt for getting her into this mess in the first place. Maybe he actually even cared. He didn't know and he didn't bother to think about it further. He'd save her. They were already going to die, right? What did he have to lose by trying to save her?
Nervous, knowing he now was taking even more risk, Draco poked his head out again. It had been only forty-five minutes, but he'd need at least the other fifteen minutes of the hour to get Hermione out of the prison. He'd have to convince the guard to let him in to see her, and then he'd have to convince her that he wasn't tricking her into something. Judging on his past lies and deceit when it came to her, that would be no easy task. Then he'd have to get out of the manor with her, which would possibly be the most difficult part of all. If it were just him leaving, no one would think about it-he belonged there. As far as they were concerned, Hermione belonged in the prison. It would be a fight to get out.
The hall was relatively clear and he stepped out. He hid the book under his robes and made sure his wand was in his pocket. He held his head high as he walked down the stairs. He attempted to appear just like he always did-cocky and sure of himself. Unfortunately, he no longer felt either.
He reached the stairs to the dungeons and paused. He looked back and could see the short hall toward the front doors. It would be so easy to just leave and let her stay there. It would be easier and safer. But it wasn't the right thing to do, he didn't think. He would have left Harry or Ron, but his respect for Hermione and his guilt at what he'd done to her life fueled him to move forward and start down the steps.
When he reached the bottom, there was a steel door there and a guard was sitting in a chair, reading a book. He looked up as Draco appeared. He nodded. The two were about at the same level in Voldemort's ranks-the guard was, possibly, a little higher. "Draco," he greeted simply.
"Jarod," Draco replied in the same manner. "I'm here to see Hermione Granger. May I enter please?"
The guard, Jarod, looked unsure. "Why do you want to see her? I haven't received any instructions to let you in."
"You're receiving them now, aren't you?" Draco snapped. "My father sent me down here to ask her about a few things in Hogwarts. I don't know about them and he thinks she does. Just let me in or else my father and Voldemort will be very angry. You know the Master does not like to be kept waiting and every second we waste here is a second that he has to wait."
Jarod winced at Draco's last few words. He knew of Voldemort's short temper and did not want to risk setting it off. He nodded at last. "All right," he said finally, standing and unlocking the door with his ring of keys. "But don't tell the Master I was on duty, huh? I'm not all that sure about this."
"Fine, Jarod," Draco said impatiently. He shrugged past the guard and into the hall of prison cells. He looked back to make sure the Jarod had closed the door before starting down the rows of cells, looking in each one, trying to find Hermione. Many were filled with kids from Hogwarts. Some didn't see him and those who did glared at him or called him angry names. Some had been hurt, but most looked as though they were just being held. He even saw one or two of his teachers, but hurried away before they could say anything. He didn't have time. Guilt was weighing at him heavily now, but he shoved it away. If he wanted to help anyone, he would have to get Hermione and escape.
As he neared the end of the hall, he heard soft, familiar sobs coming from a cell near the back. Draco nodded grimly, allowing the brief thought that he could still turn around to disappear. He sighed and walked over to the cell where the sobs were coming from. He looked in through the window, confirming that it was Hermione.
He pulled out his wand and aimed it at the lock. "Alohomora!" The lock twitched but did not open. He stared at it. He couldn't even open the lock!
For the first time, Hermione looked up. She'd been sitting on the stone cot, crying. Her face was red and tear-streaked, but her expression was no less venomous than he'd have expected. She sent a glare at him. "What are you doing here?" she snarled. "Go away. Haven't you done enough to me?"
"Excuse me, I'm trying to help you here," he replied testily, staring at the lock. "If I could only get the stupid lock open."
She narrowed her eyes at him. "Why don't you have keys?"
"Because I'm not supposed to be here!" he snapped. "I'd rather explain from in there than out here. Do you know how to open the door? A spell, something . . ."
She studied him. "Why should I tell you anything? I don't know why you want in here."
"If you don't tell me, I'll go and stun the guard and take his set of keys, but it would be a lot safer for the both of us if you would just tell me anything you know," Draco replied.
Hermione did not move for about twenty seconds. Finally, she said slowly, "The guard sealed it with a special spell. Advanced locking. Alohomora won't open it."
"I'd figured that," Draco said dryly. "How do you open it?"
"The spell is Alohomitricus Grandulus."
Draco repeated the words, aiming the spell at the lock. It clicked and he pulled the door open, stepped in and closed it behind him. She hadn't moved, but continued to stare at him in distrust. "Too bad Jarod took the wand from you," he commented. "Then I wouldn't be here."
"I see you've got the wand back," she replied, looking at his wand in his hand. He could tell that that fact gave her no comfort. If he wanted her to trust him, she couldn't be frightened of him.
He tossed her the wand. It landed on her lap and she stared at it, stunned. She made no move to pick it up. She looked at him. "What are you playing at?" she asked, but for once her voice was not hostile, simply confused and curious. "First you slip me your wand, then you come here- against orders, supposedly-and give it back? What's your game, here, Malfoy, because I know you have one."
"Then for once you'd be wrong," he replied. "I'm here to get you out. I figured that if I wanted you to trust me, I couldn't be armed while you were helpless."
Her mouth fell open. She shook her head in disbelief. "You can't be serious. You want to get me out? Okay, now I know you're up to something, because that's the worst lie I've ever heard."
Draco sighed and tilted his head to look at the ceiling. Finally, he looked back at her, choosing his words carefully. "Look, Granger, I'm not good at admitting I'm wrong or at apologizing. So give me a chance here. The fact is, I am wrong. About you, about my father, the Dark side . . . I've been wrong about everything. My life has been one big lie. I've begun to think about it lately-ever since I captured you. But today I've realized it like never before."
She stared at him. "And what made you realize that was what, Malfoy? Vision from God . . . concussion . . . high fever . . ."
"I mean it," he said with a fierce honesty in his voice that even Hermione could read. "I really have. Basically, I'm trying to say that I'm sorry. I know that that can never make up for what I've done and saying sorry won't turn back time, but I am anyway. I'm not asking for another chance- that's not something I ever hope to gain from you or anyone else I've betrayed. I'm asking for your trust."
Hermione shook her head, her eyes conflicted and frightened. "You sound pretty sincere, Malfoy. I've never heard you sound that way before. However, my trust isn't something I can give to you. I've had it betrayed so many times that I doubt I'll find it easy to give it to anyone again, let alone you."
Draco sighed. "Granger, my father is going to kill you. Probably today. If you want to live, we have to get out of here."
Hermione looked away. "I'm not too sure I want to live, Malfoy," she whispered. "In fact, I'm pretty sure I don't."
For the first time, he thought to ask, "Why were you crying when I came in?"
She scowled. "Still like to demand to know personal things, don't you? If you must know, your father was talking to me about ten minutes before you came in."
Draco winced a little inwardly. "What did he say?" he asked, not caring if he was prying.
She was quiet for a moment. "They're going after my parents," she said. "They're going to kill them. There's nothing I can do. My mum, dad, Harry, and Ron are the only reasons I have left to live and if my parents get killed, any will to live I've managed to hang onto will be destroyed."
"So you're just going to sit there and let them do it?" Draco scoffed. "Let them kill them-and you? Even when you have a chance to save them and you?"
She looked up at him. "In case you hadn't realized, there aren't many ways out of this cell, Malfoy. I can't get out to help them."
"You're a lot more thick than I took you for," Draco informed her seriously. "I'm offering you a way out, Granger. Just come with me, get out of here and you can save your parents. You can at least try."
"Why do you want to get out of here so badly?" she asked. "This is your home and these are your people. What's with the sudden urge for escape?"
"I told you, everything's different now. I found out a few things about my father I never knew. One of them is that he and Voldemort intend to kill me in less than three hours," he said shortly. "I'm not trying to take you along so you can help me-I can get out by myself and it would be whole lot easier. No one will think twice about my leaving the mansion. Taking you along just makes things harder. But I figure I owe you that much."
"They're going to kill you, too?" Hermione asked, surprised. "Why?"
"Because I lied to Voldemort about giving you the wand," he said. "Which, by the way, I was also doing to help you. You should have done a better job of holding onto it."
"I'd like to have seen you try!" she snarled, eyes flaring. "There was nowhere to hide it! And anyway, even if we do leave, I think one faint little detail may have escaped your mind-we both have the Dark Mark. Voldemort can track us down. We can't run."
"We can," Draco argued, a grim smile playing on his lips. "He may pursue us every step of the way, but we can run. It isn't as though if he summons us we automatically are zapped to him. He can track us, but we can find ways to elude him. We have to try. We'll die if we stay, but at least we have a chance at survival if we go."
Hermione appeared to be considering him for the first time. "How do I know this isn't just some trap?" she demanded.
"You don't," Draco said shortly. "That's where the trust part comes in."
Hermione looked around thoughtfully. Finally, she sighed and stood. She walked over to him. "I'll go," she decided. "As you said, I die if I stay, I might die if I go. I like the second option better. But you had better understand something-I don't care if you die. I'm not doing this for you; I'm doing it for my parents, my friends, and the Light side, which I have betrayed beyond belief. As soon as we get out, I'm going where I need to go and you can go wherever you want."
"Are you going to your parents?" he asked. "Or Potter and Weasley?"
"My parents are on the other side of England," she said quietly. "There's no way I can reach them in time."
"Want to bet? Ever heard of a little thing called Apparition?"
"You can Apparate?" Hermione asked doubtfully, raising an eyebrow. "Since when?"
"Since I was twelve," he replied haughtily. "My parents taught me, in case I ever needed to know, but they'd never let me actually do it. I can, though. And I can Apparate you along with me. Should be easy enough. We'll be there in no time."
"We?" Hermione asked incredulously. "You intend to come with me?"
He shrugged. "Why not? Haven't got anywhere better to go, have I? Besides, the way I see it, we can help each other. I need you for all your spells. You're smart and can get me out of things I might not be able to handle on my own. You need me for a simple little thing called explanations. You can't tell Potter, Weasley, your parents-anyone-about your secret. Voldemort's spell is still active. Finding them and not being able to explain is not something good. I can explain for you. And I can Apparate too. I'm a man of many talents."
Hermione squinted her eyes at him warningly. "If this is all a trap, Malfoy, I swear-"
"It's not."
"It had better not be," she warned.
Draco looked out the window of her cell, where the sun was now up in the sky. He looked back at the door and opened it. "Now or never. Last chance, Granger."
Hermione stared at the door. This is all a trap, it's got to be, part of her insisted. Another part spoke up: But what if it's not? She couldn't take that risk. If she had a chance, she would take it. She nodded at Draco begrudgingly.
"I'm in."
"A constant wave of tension on top of broken trust. The lessons that you taught me I learn were never true Now I find myself in question." --Linkin Park
Chapter Eleven: Destiny's Changes
Hermione remained silent and still beside her foes at the High Table, staring at her shoes and praying that somehow, someway, something would happen to prevent the massacre that was about to occur. Please, she begged to some higher power, praying that for once she would be heard, please stop this. I know I can't help myself, but get my friends out of this.
She was jerked from her prayers by a voice yelling, "Hermione, no! Please say this is all some sort of misunderstanding!" Her head snapped up and she saw Ron standing up, looking scared, confused, and horrified. She wanted desperately to yell to him to sit down, to avoid being hurt, but the spell Voldemort had placed on her was still active as ever and it kept her from saying anything to protect him.
Voldemort's head swiveled to face Ron, who took no notice, as he was too busy staring at Hermione. "Foolish boy!" roared Voldemort and Ron looked over at Voldemort angrily. "You dare to speak to a Death Eater? You dare to be so brash and obvious about such a crime?"
"You!" growled Ron. Hermione stared. What's he doing? He's lost it! Indeed, it appeared he had. His eyes contained a wild, burning rage. She could see him trembling in anger even from her distance and could see the white tone to his skin. His eyes were bulging unnaturally. "This is your fault, I know it! You made Hermione do this. Leave her alone! Don't go anywhere near her!"
Voldemort stared and Hermione felt her throat go tight in terror. He was going to kill Ron! She opened her mouth, but closed it again. She knew she would not even be able to say anything in protest.
"You are truly a fool," said Voldemort, his snake eyes narrowed dangerously. Ron showed no signs of backing down. He was standing straight and proud, angrily facing a sight most people would have fainted at seeing. "I shall teach you. Not Avada Kedavera-you will not be granted the privilege of a quick and painless death. You will be locked up. Crucio!"
Ron fell to the floor screaming and Hermione, too, broke from her trance. "RON!" she screamed. "Ron, no!" She knew Voldemort was watching her, knew she was taking her life into her hands, but did not care. She'd stopped caring for her life a while ago. She started to run down the steps leading up to the High Table. All she could think of was getting to Ron, who had now stopped screaming and lay panting on the floor by Gryffindor Table. Everyone else was too scared to move towards him, to move at all. The only sound came from Ginny's screaming sobs as she stared at her fallen brother in terror. It was as though she was in a still photograph and she was the only thing that could move.
Until Voldemort moved. "No, you don't!" he howled. "CRUCIO!"
Hermione also fell, but this time felt no remorse for trying to get to Ron. Perhaps if the pain had not confused her senses, she'd have heard Hagrid, Ginny, and most of the rest of Gryffindor table gasp or cry out in horror and fright for her. Perhaps she'd have known that they did not blame her. But by the time that the pain had ended, silence had fallen once more.
Even after the pain had ended and she was on her knees crying, she knew of only one desire-to get Ron and escape. She'd stayed strong and put up with everything for long enough. She couldn't do it anymore. She started to get up, but Ron's shout stopped her.
"NO! Hermione, stay put," Ron begged her from where he was. The anger in his eyes had receded. As he looked at her, she could see no more than painful regret. For a moment, their eyes locked and the world seemed to evaporate. Ron could see the terror and pain in Hermione's eyes-could see a broken look in them he'd never thought he'd see. Hermione could see Ron's fear and sympathy for her, could see all the strength it was taking him to stay where he was.
"Yes," Voldemort whispered menacingly, walking slowly over to where Hermione was. "Do stay put. We would not want any accidents to result from your lack of disobedience, would we?" Hermione, frozen in fear, but still in a mental state of panic, remained where she was.
Hermione did not move and held her eye contact with Ron. She did not know how he felt about her right then, whether he was angry or hated her or didn't care, but she was glad he cared enough to try to help her. She wasn't sure how exactly he could have enough forgiveness in him to forgive her. She saw his eyes widen and they moved to look at something looming behind her. Hermione saw a shadow on the floor in front of her and tensed, knowing who it would be.
A moment later, Voldemort's cold, long-fingered, pasty hands rapped themselves around her arms. Hermione let a sob escape her lips. I can't take this anymore . . . she thought, panicked. He jerked her to her feet and she cried out in protest and fear. Ron was watching the whole scene, looking livid and worried.
"I know you are not loyal to me," he hissed at her so that only she could hear, "but you had better do as I say or else your life will become quite miserable indeed."
"My life is miserable. Dying is what I want," she replied defiantly, not looking him in the face.
"Who said anything about death? Now go!" He shoved her back up the steps toward Malfoy and Snape. She stumbled and fell, and suddenly had no desire to get up. Why should she? To face everyone and to do Voldemort's bidding? No. She'd had enough. If they wanted her to get up, they'd have to force her.
They did. She'd only been lying on the steps panting and crying for a minute when a pair of hands grabbed her and jerked her to her feet. Hermione stumbled up and saw it was Draco who'd pulled her to her feet. She pulled her arm away. "Get off," she snarled in a low voice so no one else could overhear.
"Do you want to die?" he replied in annoyance.
She mistook his words for a threat. "Yes. Kill me, Malfoy. You'd be doing me a favor," she told him truthfully, her eyes daring him to do what the spell prevented her from doing herself.
"I'm not going to kill anybody," he snapped, averting his eyes a little. "But Voldemort will if you stay down there. There's no guarantee he'll kill you though-probably just torture you. And I know you don't want that."
Hermione opened her mouth to reply, but Voldemort had begun speaking once again and everyone fell silent. Hermione turned her back on Malfoy, blinking the tears from her eyes and regaining control over herself.
"Now you see what will happen if you defy me. And you see what happens when you join me. There is no escape. Think about that, because you will be forced to make such a decision shortly. Do not make the wrong-"
A deafening roar filled the room, cutting off Voldemort and turning everyone's heads. The sound was gone a moment later, but then the word, "STUPEFY!" rang out thunderously through the Great Hall. Three Death Eaters guarding the door leading out to the entrance of the school fell hard to the stone floor. Again, the word rang out and more men fell.
The Death Eaters stood staring. Voldemort roared, "WHO IS RESPONSIBLE FOR THIS ACT OF DEFIANCE?!"
"I am."
Through the doorway stepped Harry, his wand held firmly in his right hand. "Everyone, run!" he yelled and turned his wand on the Death Eaters against the far door. He managed to perform the spell one more time before he dove under a table to avoid the same curse sent at him by a Death Eater. This was the last moment of shocked stillness.
Pandemonium broke out. Kids and teachers jumped from tables and ran, screaming, toward one of the exits. Everyone's wands had been confiscated upon their arrival in the Great Hall, so they were left with no defense. Death Eaters were swarming the unblocked exits and Voldemort was yelling angrily at the top of his lungs. Hermione, Draco, and Snape stood stationary on the High Table, the only ones not moving, staring at the insanity going on below them. Harry continued to aim the Stunning spell at every Death Eater he saw, but more and more were firing at him and he was becoming more and more trapped.
Many lucky students had managed to break from the Great Hall and were stampeding from the school as fast as they could. The Death Eaters were having quite a hard time stopping them, because they would get run down by all the kids if they stepped in. Hermione scanned the sea of insanity for her friends and spotted Harry, ducked under Hufflepuff table, unseen by any Death Eaters for the moment. Ron was trying to jerk Ginny who apparently was in severe shock, with him toward an exit, but he was quickly becoming more and more exposed and a much easier target. Without their wands, Ron and Ginny were trapped.
Hermione tucked a hand into the pocket of her robes and fingered her wand. It was her last hope, her only chance of escape. Without it, she was truly lost. If she lost it willingly, Voldemort would not replace it. But if she didn't give it up, two of her best friends were sure to die. And she knew, whether she chose to admit it to herself or not, that her time was limited no matter her decision. She may die, but she would do everything she could to assure her friends did not meet the same fate. Before Voldemort or Draco could stop her, she pulled it out.
"Ron!" Hermione yelled and he looked up at her. She threw him the wand and he caught it, looking stunned and stopping to stare at her. "Take it and get Ginny and Harry out!"
She was surprised the spell Voldemort had placed on her allowed her to do that much. Perhaps it was wearing off, little by little. She did not know, nor did she care, as long as Ron escaped.
She could not hear him over the deafening roar of shouts and screamed, but she saw him mouth the words, "What about you?"
Hermione shook her head and looked away. "Go," she whispered, knowing he would read her lips and that he probably would not hear her anymore than she had heard him. "Leave me."
At that moment, Ginny appeared to become more focused and Ron jerked her to her feet. Harry had made it to Gryffindor table, where he was now hiding, and he notified Ron of this by tugging at his robes. Both boys now wielding wands, they headed toward one of the exits. Hermione noticed Harry clutching his scar and he appeared to be in great agony. Most kids were gone by now, though many unlucky ones were lying on the floor, stunned, or were being held by Death Eaters. The fewer kids there were, the harder it was for Harry and Ron to escape. No longer was there as much cover.
Voldemort himself was now aiming spells at the two. Hermione had never seen his eyes look more maddeningly red. Harry was sending his own spells back at Voldemort, but all missed or were blocked. Finally, though, one of the spells hit Ginny. It was the Stunning Spell, so she dropped to the floor, unconscious. Ron tried to lift his little sister, but she was too heavy for him. Harry had to tackle Ron to the floor to keep him from getting hit with the Cruciatus Curse.
"Use the levitation spell on her," Hermione whispered to herself. "Come on, guys."
She felt something jab her hand and looked down. It was Draco's wand. She pulled her hand away, not even bothering to give him a dirty look. Again, the wand poked her, and she looked at him. He stared at her blankly. Hermione began to comprehend him and looked down at the wand-which was held out of the side of his hand in a secretive way, pointing right at her-then back up at him.
"Take it," he whispered, then turned his focus once more to the pandemonium.
Hermione was wary of a trick, but grabbed the wand anyway, knowing it was her one chance. She tucked it inside her robes. She could not use it against anyone here and there was nothing she could do to help Harry, Ron, and Ginny. However, there might be a chance for her to use it to help herself later.
Harry had woken Ginny, and Ron and his sister were running from the door toward the outside when she looked again. Harry hesitated at the door and looked back at her. He was risking his life standing there motionless for more than a moment, but he did not seem to care. Hermione felt self- conscious and horrible under his gaze.
"I'm sorry," she mouthed, fighting hard not to look away from him. She couldn't fight the silent tears that streamed down her face.
Harry nodded. "We'll come back for you!" he yelled, and as the pandemonium was dying, she heard him, faintly. He turned and ran from the door, and Voldemort's spell hit the doorframe, instead of Harry.
She felt frightened, his words echoing over and over in her head. She knew he would come back. Don't do it, Harry, she thought. Don't be stupid. There's nothing you can do for me.
But she knew he would come anyway.
******************
Harry and Ron ran out of the school and onto the grounds, desperate to get away from Voldemort and the destruction of the Great Hall. Ginny was still needing to be pushed along by Ron, still appearing to be deep in shock.
"Where do we go?" Ron gasped to Harry. "There's no place safe!"
"The forest," said Harry determinedly, speaking through teeth gritted with pain. His scar was burning worse than he'd ever felt it. The only thing fighting off the pain enough to keep him standing was the adrenaline coursing through his veins. "Safest for now. We'll hide there until it gets dark or the Death Eaters leave, then we'll sneak into Hogsmeade and get some people who will be willing to help us."
"Help us do what?" asked Ron incredulously.
"Save Hermione," replied Harry shortly, and Ron could tell that even if he'd wanted to, there would be no reasoning with Harry on this subject. Both boys turned to look back at their school, at the blown out windows and Death Eaters running from the door, at the spells flying. And worst of all, at the green Dark Mark hovering menacingly over it.
Together, they turned and raced toward the forest, their last chance for survival.
********************
"LOOK AT THIS! ALL POTTER! Once again he has ruined everything!"
The Great Hall was in shambles. The tables that had once stood so elegantly were now burned and broken, the Ravenclaw table split right at the middle. There were burns and singe-marks on the walls, and holes in the draperies. The floor was littered with dust, debris, and blood. Death Eaters ran everywhere and Voldemort was yelling in a way to make everyone fear for their lives. The beautiful satin banners that had once hung along the walls, each depicting the colors and animal of their respective house, were now in various states of disrepair. The Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw banners were singed and torn in places, hanging limp. The Gryffindor banner had been ripped entirely in two. Only half remained hanging dismally at an odd angle, the head of the lion and a bit of yellow and red all that was visible. The Slytherin banner hung next to it, looking as good as new.
Hermione and Draco stood silently beside one another in front of Voldemort, waiting for him to turn his attention to them. Hermione was quivering in fear and she noticed that even Draco was wincing and jumping at Voldemort's every syllable.
"You two!" Voldemort looked down at them and the two naturally shrank back. "Why did you do nothing while Potter ruined everything?! You in particular, Draco."
Draco winced inwardly. "Uh, I was confused. I've never been in a situation like that before and I didn't know-"
Voldemort didn't let him finish. "Some Death Eater you are!" he roared. "Go find your father and help him seek out Potter. You, girl, sit. I will be dealing with you personally. Do not think I have forgotten your antics at the gathering."
Draco hurried off, glancing back at Hermione with an unreadable expression. Hermione sat down on the steps and watched the Death Eaters, while Voldemort stalked down to yell at people from a closer range. She felt terrified, but also oddly relaxed. Most of the students and staff had escaped. Only thirty students had been caught and three teachers. All were being held in the dungeons of the Malfoy home-where she now assumed she'd been held over Christmas-for the time being. As far as Hermione knew, Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Hagrid remained free. Life was not going to get better, she knew-if anything, it would get much worse. But at least Harry had saved everyone. If only he would stop trying to save her.
Her mind was occupied with questions and worries. She could feel Draco's wand sitting in her pocket and her thoughts turned to it. What was he playing at, giving her that wand? Why had he done it? He had even lied to Voldemort about it-and lying to Voldemort was not something that was commonly done. She didn't know what to think of Draco at that point.
"Get up."
Hermione looked up and saw a man with a glowering expression staring at her. She leaped to her feet. "Voldemort told me to wait here," she replied, trying to sound haughty and cocky like one of them. Maybe if she did he would leave her alone.
"I know. The Master also told me to take you to a holding cell where you are to remain until he gets around to you. He's busy and you aren't top priority, Mudblood. So move. I'm to Apparate you to Malfoy Manor."
Hermione had been called a Mudblood so much this past year that it no longer even bothered her. Words were nothing compared to the pain she had suffered. If anything, she was proud of being Muggle-born. She didn't care what they thought. She would not let them ridicule her for that as well. She walked down the steps and out of the Great Hall, trying to mentally unknot her stomach, the Death Eater following her all the way.
*******************
Darkness seemed to have fallen, though in the Forbidden Forest, where it was always night, it was hard to be certain. Harry and Ron had traveled deep into the forest, looking for somewhere to hide for a while. They had spotted Hagrid on their way to the forest. He had tried to get them to come along with him to Hogsmeade-he said he knew a way that would get them safely out for certain. Ron had been interested in going, but Harry had adamantly refused, and Ron, in the end, stood by him. Ron had made Ginny go with Hagrid though, not wanting to have to risk his little sister when they went back for Hermione.
"Get her to my mum and dad," Ron had said to Hagrid. "And tell them . . . tell them I'm alive and fine. But there's something I have to do here. Tell them I can't go home until I've done it."
"Hermione," Hagrid had stated simply.
"Yeah," agreed Ron. They'd been forced to separate after that, when a group of Death Eaters had almost spotted them and that was the last they'd seen of each other.
Harry and Ron had soon after found an indentation in a rock overhang where they'd stopped. They had decided it was the best that they would be able to do. The Forbidden Forest was not a welcoming place to humans and there weren't many cozy places to be found.
They'd remained silent for a while, both wrapped up in their own thoughts and too deep into thinking them to share them. Finally, Ron spoke up, in a weak, dead-sounding voice. "I can't believe it all. If you'd have told me all this was going to be happening a month ago, I'd have owled my dad and told them to put you with Neville's parents. It's impossible."
"Apparently not, as it has happened," Harry mumbled, pulling apart a stick with his fingers and stripping the bark off, layer by layer. The pain in his scar had lessened, though it was still hurting. It hurt whenever Voldemort was close or feeling murderous; right now he was both, so he supposed he would have to expect his scar to continue causing him pain.
Ron looked at him. "Hermione will be okay, Harry."
Harry shook his head. "No she won't. You saw what Voldemort did to her right in front of everyone. I saw it too, in case you were wondering. I'm certain he's the one that beat her up before. She's not safe."
Ron gave him a quizzical glance. "Beat her up?" he demanded. "What's that about?"
"I don't want to explain right now. Long story short, Ginny saw that she had a whole bunch of cuts and bruises on her back on the trip back from Christmas holidays. Must have been Voldemort. He probably kidnapped her or something, and that's when she . . ."
"She didn't become a Death Eater willingly, Harry," Ron said. "I know it. It's Hermione we're talking about. I don't know why she is one, or how it happened, but he forced her. That's why she's been so distant the past weeks. I'm surprised she hasn't killed herself. I think I would have."
"I know it's not her fault," Harry replied, still picking apart the stick and talking in a low voice. "I didn't know what to think at first, but once my brain started working again I realized that. But that just scares me even more. Ron, I love her. I don't know when my feelings for her became that strong, but I do. I can't stand it, knowing she's at the hands of the most evil man in the world. It's driving me crazy. Thinking what the Death Eaters could be doing to her . . ."
"We'll get her out," Ron said determinedly.
"I'm not leaving until I do," Harry growled, his voice turning hard again. "I don't know how we'll get her out or what we'll do about Voldemort after that, but it's one step at a time."
"Well, then the first step is getting some sleep. We can't do anything tonight," Ron said. Harry nodded numbly, but didn't reply. Ron knew he would not be sleeping and sighed. He attempted to change the subject. "How many people do you reckon got out?"
Harry shrugged. "Most of the school, thank God. I can't imagine what would have happened if I hadn't been outside."
"Did McGonagall get out?"
"I don't know. I didn't see her on the grounds. I hope so."
"Dumbledore?"
"I don't know where he is," Harry said, seeming to realize it for the first time. "I didn't see him at all when everyone was there. Voldemort wouldn't have overlooked him. I just hope he got away. If he did, then there's still a chance. If he didn't . . ."
"Don't even say it, Harry," Ron said dully, shaking his head. He went silent for a moment, and looked up at the tall, black trees above them. Finally, he spoke again. "This is all too much. I remember Dad telling us last year at the World Cup when we asked about the Dark Mark that we wouldn't understand it. We wouldn't understand the terror it inspired and the way people had to live when You-Know-Who was in power. We insisted we would. Well, Dad was right. We had no idea, I know that now. We didn't even truly understand when Percy got murdered. I understand, now, though. This is the worst thing ever. I can't believe it's even happening."
"I know. And we're the lucky ones, Ron. Not everyone got out of Hogwarts. A lot of our classmates are still stuck back there. I don't even know what's happened to Hermione. We're just lucky that we're out here and that we have a chance to fight. Most people don't."
Ron nodded. "Do you think Ginny will be all right?"
"Hagrid will take care of her. You know that."
"Yeah, I'm not saying he won't. I'm just worried about her. Hagrid's big, but he can't do magic. Ginny doesn't have her wand and when I left her, she was half-unconscious anyway. If they ran into a group of Death Eaters, they'd be in a lot of trouble," Ron explained. "I can't lose her, Harry. I already lost Percy and we weren't even that close, for brothers. You saw what it did to me. Ginny and I are pretty close-closer this year than ever. I can't lose her too. On top of it all, I don't think I can take it."
"She's safer than us, Ron," Harry replied, finally setting down the stick and resting his arms at his side. "She'll be fine." He sighed, ran his hands through his hair and stood. "I'll take first watch. You go to sleep."
Ron watched his friend warily. "Harry, you aren't going to do anything crazy while I'm asleep, are you? You're not going to try to sneak back to the edge of the forest or something, right? Getting yourself caught isn't going to help her. I don't trust you not to do that. Maybe I should take watch."
Harry shook his head. "No, I'll watch. I'm not going to go crazy, Ron. But I'm not going to be able to sleep, either, so it makes no sense for me to lay there awake and let you-who could sleep and take advantage of an opportunity that I don't think will be coming along too frequently from here on out-take watch. Just sleep."
Ron nodded and then used his hands to group a pile of dry leaves together for a pillow. Harry climbed up to the top of the rock under which was the opening where they'd been hiding. He let his feet dangle over the side and when Ron looked back up, he narrowly dodged getting hit by one of his friend's sneakers. Ron settled back into the silence, lying down. He shifted back and forth, unable to find a comfortable position. The wand kept jabbing into his ribs. Finally, he sat up and pulled the wand from his robes. He looked at it with a thoughtful expression and finally called up to Harry.
"What is it?" Harry asked, looking down.
Ron fingered the wand, then handed it up to Harry. Harry gave him a quizzical look, but took the wand, slowly. "What are you doing?" he asked. "You need a wand, too. I have mine."
"I know," Ron replied. "That's Hermione's wand. She threw it to me to help me. It's not much, but I figure maybe it'll help you to have her wand. Just give me yours and I'll use it. There's not as much power in a wand if it isn't used by its rightful owner, but there's still enough. And if we have to fight, we can trade back, if you like."
Harry looked at the wand in interest. In the pandemonium back in the Great Hall, he had not seen Hermione throw Ron her wand. He'd simply assumed Ron had his own somehow. He dimly took his own wand from his pocket and handed it to Ron. A moment later, the boy lay back down on the forest floor and silence overtook them again.
In the dim half-light, Harry studied the wand, rolling it over in his hands. Now Hermione wasn't even armed. He tried not to think about it, as it was hard enough to face Voldemort with a wand. Without one it was impossible. He set the wand down on the rock beside him and stared out in the direction of the castle, though it was many miles away now.
We're coming, Hermione, Harry thought. Just hold on.
*****************
Draco walked briskly down the hall of his home, heading for his father's study where Voldemort was currently resting. It was four in the morning of the day after the takeover of Hogwarts. The sun would be rising soon and a new day would begin-one in which Voldemort was ruler. He felt a mixture of pride and apprehension at this fact. He was still confused about his own feelings, which was odd for him. He usually knew exactly what he was thinking and what he was doing. Part of him was happy that Voldemort had finally taken his place as an opposing leader. Another part of him, a darker, deeper part, wasn't as sure. He still hated Dumbledore, Cornelius Fudge and most of the powerful, ruling wizards of the Light side. Those were the figures he had always seen as representing the Light-men he'd been raised to hate. Yesterday, though, he had started to see the real Light side: his fellow students and the casual occupants of the wizard world. Voldemort was willing to kill them all to take over. For once, he was beginning to question whether or not that was right.
He stopped at the door to his father's study and raised his hand, knocking timidly on the wood. It was usually a good idea to be wary when he was just disturbing his father, let alone both Lucius and Voldemort.
"What is it?" growled his father's voice from the other side of the door.
"It's me, Father," Draco said, trying his best to sound respectful. "You summoned me, right?"
"Yes, yes. Come in."
Draco twisted the handle of the door and stepped in. Voldemort was sitting behind his father's desk, leaning back and looking furious. Lucius was pacing in front of the desk, looking as though he were trying to contain his fear by agreeing with everything Voldemort had to say. Both looked up at Draco as he entered and he winced inwardly. An angry Voldemort. Just what he needed to top off this already turbulent day. He closed the door quietly and stepped forward to kneel in front of the desk.
"I greet you, Master," he said, using the phrase that people as low as he had to to greet Voldemort.
"Stand up, boy!" Voldemort snapped. "I haven't the time for casual greetings. Do not waste my time."
Draco leaped to his feet immediately, feeling irritated though not daring to show it. If he hadn't knelt, Voldemort probably would have executed or tortured him on the spot. He certainly would have found time for that. However, he dared not say any such thing out loud. Even looking annoyed at Voldemort's command could result in death. "Yes, Master," he replied, keeping his eyes lowered respectfully.
"You are a good source of information to us, Draco," Voldemort said, but it was clear this was no compliment. "You have been to Hogwarts for five years. You know many things. Hermione Granger will be no help to us in that respect. I'm beginning to think that she has just about been used for all she is worth. She is regaining that foolish sense of pride and she has basically already lost everything dear to her. She's becoming a person with nothing to lose and that is a danger to us. Certainly, we will attempt to pressure her into revealing information-torture her, perhaps. However, I'm fearing that she will give us false information. Soon, I think we will have to kill her."
Draco made no response to any of this. "There's still Professor Snape," he suggested. "He would know more than I would, right?"
"Yes," Voldemort replied slowly. "Logically, yes, he would. Unfortunately, I doubt his loyalty to me. While I can talk with him about information, I would like information from you to verify most of it. There will be things you won't know, true, but I think for the most part you can help us."
"I am happy to serve you in any way you see fit, Master."
"Good. So, to start out, I have a few questions about Granger and the attack upon Hogwarts. Unless I'm much mistaken, she tossed her wand to the foolish boy that stood up to defy me in the Hall."
"Yes, sir, she did," Draco confirmed.
A look of fury overcame Voldemort. "She is definitely to be killed. She has already betrayed me, found a way around the spell to do it. She's too much of a risk. Lucius, I will ask you to interrogate her soon."
Lucius nodded. "Yes, Master. When I am done, am I to kill her?"
Voldemort considered. "I am not sure," he finally said. "I will tell you before you go." Lucius nodded again.
Voldemort turned back to Draco. "So, the boy has her wand, now?" he demanded.
"Yes, sir."
"So she would not have a wand, correct?"
Draco's insides began to freeze. God, he knows! I was such a fool to give her my wand. Why should I care if she dies? I should have known I'd get caught. Her life isn't more important than mine, right? She was already doomed. He thought quickly for an excuse. "No, sir, she wouldn't have a wand," Draco replied, trying to sound puzzled, all the while fighting the urge to run.
"Yet, when the Death Eater responsible for bringing her here from Hogwarts and locking her up searched her, he found this." Voldemort pulled Draco's wand from his robes, and Draco knew his worst fears had been confirmed. Draco tried to look confused.
"This, obviously, is not her wand," he went on. "So, the question remains, whose is it?"
"I . . . I do not know, Master," Draco said. Now it was his life on the line. He'd just lied to Voldemort. That was not a mistake anyone was allowed to make twice.
Voldemort nodded, making an indistinct sound in his throat. "Let me see your wand, Draco," Voldemort commanded.
Draco sighed, and tried to look guilty, which wasn't hard. "I lost it, sir," he said quietly. This was not something one got rewarded for. His father had beaten him when he was little for losing his wand. He'd never made that mistake again. "When Potter came and everyone was running. Someone knocked into me and I dropped it. I couldn't find it again. I'm sorry."
Though Draco did not look, he could feel Voldemort's eyes studying him and he tried not to squirm in his discomfort. "Is that so?" Draco did not reply, as it was clearly a rhetorical question. "Then, could this wand possibly be yours?"
"I suppose it could be, sir. I never considered that possibility. I didn't even know she had a wand after she threw hers," Draco lied, trying to sound casual.
Voldemort threw the wand at Draco. His reflexes were not quick enough to catch it and it fell to the ground in front of his feet. Draco picked it up, his hands trembling just slightly. He stared hard at it, looking at it. He already knew it was his, but he had to make it appear as though he didn't. Finally, he nodded. "Yes, sir," he said quietly. "It's mine."
"Do you have any idea of the implications that your foolishness could have had on our side?" Voldemort demanded in a low, dangerous tone. "Do you realize that by not looking hard enough for your wand-and not reporting its loss to me-could have landed that wand in the hands of someone who would use it against us? It did, too, in case you were not clear on that point. Had she not been hampered by my spell and had my guard not searched her, we would have a serious problem on our hands! Harry Potter's earlier actions have screwed up enough! I don't need you messing things up too!"
Draco shook his head. "No, sir. I was an idiot. I'm sorry."
"If this ever happens again Draco, you will be losing your life along with that wand. Do you understand?" Draco nodded. "And don't think that you are getting off without punishment. Once things have died down, I might take the time to impose a punishment. I'm sure your father intends to. Not now, though. We haven't the time. Go and stay out of the other Death Eaters' way. I'll call for you when I have need of you."
"Yes, Master," Draco muttered, clutching his wand tightly and turning to hurry from the room.
He felt much better once the door that separated him from Voldemort was shut securely. He leaned his back against the wall next to the door and let out a relieved sigh. He'd lied to Voldemort and had not been caught. That wasn't something most Death Eaters-most people in general-could say they'd done. It had almost seemed too easy.
Suspicious, he knelt by the floor and pressed his ear against the tiny crack between the door and floor, trying to hear the conversation inside.
Draco's father was speaking. "I told you, sir, that Draco would do as commanded. He's a weak, pathetic boy with illusions of grandeur. He'll never make it with the type of mentality he has. He'll bully anyone less than him, but won't dare stand up to anyone greater. He can be a terrible embarrassment at times. I wish almost once a day he wasn't my son. The only good thing about him is that even if he ever decided he didn't agree with us, he would not have the guts to do anything about it. He'll follow orders. He'll do what I taught him. Draco's like a robot-it's all he's good for."
His father's words hit him as hard as a physical blow. His head snapped back for a moment, feeling the bitter sting of rejection. He had always known that Lucius was ruthless and disappointed in him at times, but he'd never known that his father's disappointment reached into hatred and loathing. He'd never cared what people thought about him. Not once, when he'd heard a teacher or fellow student talking about what a menace and an annoyance he was had he ever taken offense. Now he felt the pain of it. He'd always tried to please his father. Apparently, he'd failed terribly. It was hard to focus on Voldemort's words, hard to push past the pain he was feeling to listen further, but he forced himself to put his ear back to the door.
"You are blind, Lucius," Voldemort snarled. "He was lying to me about the wand. I feel certain he gave the girl his wand. I know not why, but I know he did. Therefore, you do not know him as well as you thought. He is not following orders-he is going against us. I want him killed."
"But sir-"
"No buts! I've made exceptions for you and your family in the past, Lucius, but this is not something I can excuse. This is betrayal. And I intend to kill the source of it before that betrayal goes further and becomes a problem."
"The Granger girl has certainly betrayed us more than my son."
"And she too will die, once we have gathered all information from her. Leave the boy be for a few hours. Then go and speak with him again. See if he will admit he lied."
"If he does, you will spare his life?"
"No. It will simply decide whether he dies by torture or Avada Kedavera."
Draco's breath caught in his throat. He scrambled to his feet and took a few steps back, staring blankly at the door. They were going to kill him! There was no way he could escape. He looked around himself. The mansion he lived in was wide and spacious, a place where no one could feel claustrophobic. However, he felt as though the walls were pressing in on him, showing him there was no escape. He broke into a run, heading down the north passage toward his bedroom.
He had to get away. He couldn't just sit there and let them kill him. His steps faltered as he remembered that he had the Dark Mark emblazoned on his arm. Voldemort could track him down as long as he had that mark-and there was no way to get rid of it. He kept moving, but slower. Draco knew he'd still have to get away. He'd have to try, at least. Even if he didn't make it, he could try.
His father's words came back to him. Before, he'd never have thought that his father would allow him to be killed, but now, both from the conversation he'd overheard and his father's opinion of him, he knew Lucius would do nothing to stop it. Lucius didn't even want Draco for a son. Draco felt anger come over him. He was right about me before, he decided begrudgingly. I was a mindless follower. But he knows nothing about me now. The tables have turned, Father, and for once, your robot of a son knows the truth and what's right. And he'll stand up for it.
He ran up the stairs, his resolve hardening with each step. If they didn't want him here, they wouldn't have him here. And if they wanted to kill him, they'd have to find him. If they succeeded in killing him, they'd at least know that they'd all been wrong-Draco Malfoy would not sit back and accept death. He reached his bedroom and grabbed his old cloak off the hook behind the door.
He did not pause to take anything else. The less he had, the more easily he could run. He poked his head out the door, but saw many Death Eaters around. He sighed, forcing the nervous beating of his heart to calm. He'd have to wait until things calmed down some, so he could inconspicuously slip out. Voldemort had said they were going to give him a few hours. He'd wait one hour, then leave. He couldn't risk any longer than that.
As he paced his room uncomfortably, his thoughts flowed over everything that had happened. Everything he'd believed in had come crashing down in a few short minutes. Fifteen years of training and beliefs had been broken down entirely in fifteen minutes. It was too much to take in.
For the first time since the meeting, his thoughts strayed to Hermione Granger. He knew she was being held in their dungeons-which were used as prisons-at that very moment. It was where she'd been held over Christmas. They were going to kill her, too.
Part of him didn't care. His life was in danger too. Every man for himself. He'd already gotten himself into that predicament by giving her his wand. He'd felt that maybe she could get herself out with it. He'd done enough for her. He'd been an idiot and now he was seeing where that had landed him. Forget her. Let her get herself out. She should have done a better job at hiding that wand.
But the other part of him was thinking differently. His father's words plagued him: "He'll do what I taught him. Draco's like a robot-it's all he's good for." His father had been right. He'd stuck to his childhood training and teachings with a flare, even now. And still he was following them. Leaving Hermione was what Lucius would do. He didn't want to be his father's clone any longer. He tried to figure out what someone else would do. What he would do.
It came to him in less than an instant. He had to save her. He didn't know why-perhaps it was just an act of rebellion, something to prove to Lucius he could stand up for something other than the Dark side. Maybe it was guilt for getting her into this mess in the first place. Maybe he actually even cared. He didn't know and he didn't bother to think about it further. He'd save her. They were already going to die, right? What did he have to lose by trying to save her?
Nervous, knowing he now was taking even more risk, Draco poked his head out again. It had been only forty-five minutes, but he'd need at least the other fifteen minutes of the hour to get Hermione out of the prison. He'd have to convince the guard to let him in to see her, and then he'd have to convince her that he wasn't tricking her into something. Judging on his past lies and deceit when it came to her, that would be no easy task. Then he'd have to get out of the manor with her, which would possibly be the most difficult part of all. If it were just him leaving, no one would think about it-he belonged there. As far as they were concerned, Hermione belonged in the prison. It would be a fight to get out.
The hall was relatively clear and he stepped out. He hid the book under his robes and made sure his wand was in his pocket. He held his head high as he walked down the stairs. He attempted to appear just like he always did-cocky and sure of himself. Unfortunately, he no longer felt either.
He reached the stairs to the dungeons and paused. He looked back and could see the short hall toward the front doors. It would be so easy to just leave and let her stay there. It would be easier and safer. But it wasn't the right thing to do, he didn't think. He would have left Harry or Ron, but his respect for Hermione and his guilt at what he'd done to her life fueled him to move forward and start down the steps.
When he reached the bottom, there was a steel door there and a guard was sitting in a chair, reading a book. He looked up as Draco appeared. He nodded. The two were about at the same level in Voldemort's ranks-the guard was, possibly, a little higher. "Draco," he greeted simply.
"Jarod," Draco replied in the same manner. "I'm here to see Hermione Granger. May I enter please?"
The guard, Jarod, looked unsure. "Why do you want to see her? I haven't received any instructions to let you in."
"You're receiving them now, aren't you?" Draco snapped. "My father sent me down here to ask her about a few things in Hogwarts. I don't know about them and he thinks she does. Just let me in or else my father and Voldemort will be very angry. You know the Master does not like to be kept waiting and every second we waste here is a second that he has to wait."
Jarod winced at Draco's last few words. He knew of Voldemort's short temper and did not want to risk setting it off. He nodded at last. "All right," he said finally, standing and unlocking the door with his ring of keys. "But don't tell the Master I was on duty, huh? I'm not all that sure about this."
"Fine, Jarod," Draco said impatiently. He shrugged past the guard and into the hall of prison cells. He looked back to make sure the Jarod had closed the door before starting down the rows of cells, looking in each one, trying to find Hermione. Many were filled with kids from Hogwarts. Some didn't see him and those who did glared at him or called him angry names. Some had been hurt, but most looked as though they were just being held. He even saw one or two of his teachers, but hurried away before they could say anything. He didn't have time. Guilt was weighing at him heavily now, but he shoved it away. If he wanted to help anyone, he would have to get Hermione and escape.
As he neared the end of the hall, he heard soft, familiar sobs coming from a cell near the back. Draco nodded grimly, allowing the brief thought that he could still turn around to disappear. He sighed and walked over to the cell where the sobs were coming from. He looked in through the window, confirming that it was Hermione.
He pulled out his wand and aimed it at the lock. "Alohomora!" The lock twitched but did not open. He stared at it. He couldn't even open the lock!
For the first time, Hermione looked up. She'd been sitting on the stone cot, crying. Her face was red and tear-streaked, but her expression was no less venomous than he'd have expected. She sent a glare at him. "What are you doing here?" she snarled. "Go away. Haven't you done enough to me?"
"Excuse me, I'm trying to help you here," he replied testily, staring at the lock. "If I could only get the stupid lock open."
She narrowed her eyes at him. "Why don't you have keys?"
"Because I'm not supposed to be here!" he snapped. "I'd rather explain from in there than out here. Do you know how to open the door? A spell, something . . ."
She studied him. "Why should I tell you anything? I don't know why you want in here."
"If you don't tell me, I'll go and stun the guard and take his set of keys, but it would be a lot safer for the both of us if you would just tell me anything you know," Draco replied.
Hermione did not move for about twenty seconds. Finally, she said slowly, "The guard sealed it with a special spell. Advanced locking. Alohomora won't open it."
"I'd figured that," Draco said dryly. "How do you open it?"
"The spell is Alohomitricus Grandulus."
Draco repeated the words, aiming the spell at the lock. It clicked and he pulled the door open, stepped in and closed it behind him. She hadn't moved, but continued to stare at him in distrust. "Too bad Jarod took the wand from you," he commented. "Then I wouldn't be here."
"I see you've got the wand back," she replied, looking at his wand in his hand. He could tell that that fact gave her no comfort. If he wanted her to trust him, she couldn't be frightened of him.
He tossed her the wand. It landed on her lap and she stared at it, stunned. She made no move to pick it up. She looked at him. "What are you playing at?" she asked, but for once her voice was not hostile, simply confused and curious. "First you slip me your wand, then you come here- against orders, supposedly-and give it back? What's your game, here, Malfoy, because I know you have one."
"Then for once you'd be wrong," he replied. "I'm here to get you out. I figured that if I wanted you to trust me, I couldn't be armed while you were helpless."
Her mouth fell open. She shook her head in disbelief. "You can't be serious. You want to get me out? Okay, now I know you're up to something, because that's the worst lie I've ever heard."
Draco sighed and tilted his head to look at the ceiling. Finally, he looked back at her, choosing his words carefully. "Look, Granger, I'm not good at admitting I'm wrong or at apologizing. So give me a chance here. The fact is, I am wrong. About you, about my father, the Dark side . . . I've been wrong about everything. My life has been one big lie. I've begun to think about it lately-ever since I captured you. But today I've realized it like never before."
She stared at him. "And what made you realize that was what, Malfoy? Vision from God . . . concussion . . . high fever . . ."
"I mean it," he said with a fierce honesty in his voice that even Hermione could read. "I really have. Basically, I'm trying to say that I'm sorry. I know that that can never make up for what I've done and saying sorry won't turn back time, but I am anyway. I'm not asking for another chance- that's not something I ever hope to gain from you or anyone else I've betrayed. I'm asking for your trust."
Hermione shook her head, her eyes conflicted and frightened. "You sound pretty sincere, Malfoy. I've never heard you sound that way before. However, my trust isn't something I can give to you. I've had it betrayed so many times that I doubt I'll find it easy to give it to anyone again, let alone you."
Draco sighed. "Granger, my father is going to kill you. Probably today. If you want to live, we have to get out of here."
Hermione looked away. "I'm not too sure I want to live, Malfoy," she whispered. "In fact, I'm pretty sure I don't."
For the first time, he thought to ask, "Why were you crying when I came in?"
She scowled. "Still like to demand to know personal things, don't you? If you must know, your father was talking to me about ten minutes before you came in."
Draco winced a little inwardly. "What did he say?" he asked, not caring if he was prying.
She was quiet for a moment. "They're going after my parents," she said. "They're going to kill them. There's nothing I can do. My mum, dad, Harry, and Ron are the only reasons I have left to live and if my parents get killed, any will to live I've managed to hang onto will be destroyed."
"So you're just going to sit there and let them do it?" Draco scoffed. "Let them kill them-and you? Even when you have a chance to save them and you?"
She looked up at him. "In case you hadn't realized, there aren't many ways out of this cell, Malfoy. I can't get out to help them."
"You're a lot more thick than I took you for," Draco informed her seriously. "I'm offering you a way out, Granger. Just come with me, get out of here and you can save your parents. You can at least try."
"Why do you want to get out of here so badly?" she asked. "This is your home and these are your people. What's with the sudden urge for escape?"
"I told you, everything's different now. I found out a few things about my father I never knew. One of them is that he and Voldemort intend to kill me in less than three hours," he said shortly. "I'm not trying to take you along so you can help me-I can get out by myself and it would be whole lot easier. No one will think twice about my leaving the mansion. Taking you along just makes things harder. But I figure I owe you that much."
"They're going to kill you, too?" Hermione asked, surprised. "Why?"
"Because I lied to Voldemort about giving you the wand," he said. "Which, by the way, I was also doing to help you. You should have done a better job of holding onto it."
"I'd like to have seen you try!" she snarled, eyes flaring. "There was nowhere to hide it! And anyway, even if we do leave, I think one faint little detail may have escaped your mind-we both have the Dark Mark. Voldemort can track us down. We can't run."
"We can," Draco argued, a grim smile playing on his lips. "He may pursue us every step of the way, but we can run. It isn't as though if he summons us we automatically are zapped to him. He can track us, but we can find ways to elude him. We have to try. We'll die if we stay, but at least we have a chance at survival if we go."
Hermione appeared to be considering him for the first time. "How do I know this isn't just some trap?" she demanded.
"You don't," Draco said shortly. "That's where the trust part comes in."
Hermione looked around thoughtfully. Finally, she sighed and stood. She walked over to him. "I'll go," she decided. "As you said, I die if I stay, I might die if I go. I like the second option better. But you had better understand something-I don't care if you die. I'm not doing this for you; I'm doing it for my parents, my friends, and the Light side, which I have betrayed beyond belief. As soon as we get out, I'm going where I need to go and you can go wherever you want."
"Are you going to your parents?" he asked. "Or Potter and Weasley?"
"My parents are on the other side of England," she said quietly. "There's no way I can reach them in time."
"Want to bet? Ever heard of a little thing called Apparition?"
"You can Apparate?" Hermione asked doubtfully, raising an eyebrow. "Since when?"
"Since I was twelve," he replied haughtily. "My parents taught me, in case I ever needed to know, but they'd never let me actually do it. I can, though. And I can Apparate you along with me. Should be easy enough. We'll be there in no time."
"We?" Hermione asked incredulously. "You intend to come with me?"
He shrugged. "Why not? Haven't got anywhere better to go, have I? Besides, the way I see it, we can help each other. I need you for all your spells. You're smart and can get me out of things I might not be able to handle on my own. You need me for a simple little thing called explanations. You can't tell Potter, Weasley, your parents-anyone-about your secret. Voldemort's spell is still active. Finding them and not being able to explain is not something good. I can explain for you. And I can Apparate too. I'm a man of many talents."
Hermione squinted her eyes at him warningly. "If this is all a trap, Malfoy, I swear-"
"It's not."
"It had better not be," she warned.
Draco looked out the window of her cell, where the sun was now up in the sky. He looked back at the door and opened it. "Now or never. Last chance, Granger."
Hermione stared at the door. This is all a trap, it's got to be, part of her insisted. Another part spoke up: But what if it's not? She couldn't take that risk. If she had a chance, she would take it. She nodded at Draco begrudgingly.
"I'm in."