Enter, please
"Quick, Hermione, quick!" cried Madam Rosmerta, shooing her into the back room of the 'Three Broomsticks' inn. "Take the ladder to the attic! Hurry before they come."
Hermione managed to scamper up the last few rungs just in time before she heard the front door being flung open in the taproom. Muffled footsteps sounded across the old wood.
"Rosmerta!" The rumbling did not pause as the dark, raspy voice crept up to her. A voice that was familiar to Hermione. It sent a shiver down her spine. Fear paralysed her bones. She slipped behind two large supply crates, praying she wouldn't be discovered.
"Mr. Dolohov!"
"Shut up or I'll dedicate myself to you! You know the penalty for hiding mudbloods!" The Russian accent, heavy as lead, dripped from his every word. He hadn't had to make the effort to blend in ... or speak intelligibly for a long time. Now that Voldemort had won – Harry and Ron were dead – he was always in the right and she ... was just a puny maggot.
She heard him climbing the rungs. He knew she was up there. Hastily she looked for a better hiding place, for an empty box that didn't show its contents at first glance, but it was in vain. There was nowhere to retreat to. She had to fight. Trembling, she looked down at her cracked wand.
Ginny – she hoped Ginny was safe. She had suggested this meeting place.
"Come out, I know you're hiding here," Dolohov whispered. "Hurry up, we don't have much time."
"Expelliarmus!" She leapt forth, she would not surrender without resistance. Through her broken wand, the curse targeted Dolohov's knee, though she had actually been aiming for his chest.
Dolohov laughed and parried it without difficulty. "Give up and listen to me!" Another wave of his wand and he held hers in his hand. He hadn't even had to say the spell.
A fear-filled whimper escaped her, but she bit her lower lip – do not showing any weaknesses.
"Listen, I will help you – hide you from the dark lord's minions. They're all looking for you, no one will suspect you're so close! You must trust me -"
From below, they heard footsteps approaching again. This time there were several. Again she could hear Madam Rosmerta trying to stop them, but to no avail.
"The others will be here soon," Dolohov warned them urgently. "As soon as the first one sticks his head through the hatch, you're on your own. You can't disappear. The only way is past them. I can lead you out unseen and hide you."
Hermione shook her head. "Ginny! What about her? Did you catch her?" she asked breathlessly.
"What do you think we're here for, Zuk?"
"No!"
"She betrayed you!"
"No! No! No!"
"Dolohov? Where are you?" came the sound from below.
"Last chance."
Hermione's knees shook. "What do you want for it?"
"A housekeeper – just a housekeeper," he said hastily, bridging the final distance as he saw her resistance crumble. Smiling triumphantly, he stroked her cheek, "Everything will be fine as long as you follow my rules."
oOo
Der Herr trat in ein Heim,
Wollte dort die Tochter freien.
Der Pakt war schnell gemacht,
Das Töchterlein rasch fortgebracht.
Sein Schloss, das war ihr Ziel,
Dort gab es der Kammern viel.
Er gab ihr ein Gemach,
Schlüssel für die Burg und sprach:
Tritt ein, und sei bereit.
Bleib hier, für alle Zeit.
Sei frei, ich vertraue dir.
Alles steht offen bis auf diese Tür.
oOo
The Lord entered a home,
Wanted to court the daughter there.
The pact was quickly made,
The little daughter quickly taken away.
His castle, that was their destination,
There were chambers aplenty.
He gave her a chamber,
keys to the castle, and said:
Enter, and be ready.
Stay here for ever.
Be free, I trust you.
Everything is open except this door.
oOo
Again and again she read the written words. It was a poem.
Dolohov was a poet.
She wondered why he had torn it up and thrown it in the rubbish. It had taken her a while to put the fragments together, so meticulously had he cut it up. Why had he done it? Once more her eyes wandered over the kitchen table. She would better get to work... How Dolohov would react if she did not stick to their agreement on the very first day, she did not want to imagine.
Hermione began washing up a large pot. She shivered. The water warmed her ice-cold fingers. She saw no heating, no longer had a wand and Dolohov had instructed her not to visit the house without him. Therefore, she waited for him to return. Her heart beat faster as the door swung open and a tall figure approached her.
Disapprovingly, Dolohov frowned as he recognised the scraps on the kitchen table. He skimmed the lines. "You must learn to keep your curiosity in check," he spoke without looking at her. "Or it will be your undoing."
She nodded in surrender. Let him think she was subservient to him. Then she could look into Ginny's whereabouts in peace.
Dolohov moved closer, far too close, and took her face between his hands, forcing her to look at him. "You are free to move around here. I trust you. But if I say something, you have to follow it."
She nodded. "Do you have a library here? Then I'll never get on your nerves."
"Oh no!" There was a beastly gleam in his eyes. "Every door is open to you, but not this one. There's nothing interesting there now either. I've converted it. Don't you dare go there!"
Hermione's face contorted into a grimace and she was about to retort. He groaned. It took her a moment to realise that he wasn't doing this because of her. His mark was burning.
"The dark lord calls me." He let go of her and turned instantly to leave. "Mark my words!" With a dull bang, the door fell into the lock.
Quickly now! She had to hurry, then she would not run the risk of being noticed. Dolohov had placed bans around the house to prevent her from leaving, but never would he restrict himself so rigorously. The option to escape should always be kept open and he had fought in two wars – his instinct would be correspondingly great. If she was going to find anything interesting, it would be where he didn't want her to be.
The heavy door to the library was majestic. Hermione fell into amazement. But there was something else, smaller, that caught her attention. In the door just above the handle, someone – someone? Dolohov! – had carved small letters.
oOo
Am Tag da ritt er aus,
Ließ sein Weib allein zuhaus.
Sie ging zur verbotenen Tür,
Nicht nachzusehen riet ihr Gespür.
Doch da ein Schlüssel passt,
Und Neugier ist der Weiber Last.
oOo
On the day he rode out,
Left his wife alone at home.
She went to the forbidden door,
Her intuition told her not to look.
But there a key fits,
And curiosity is a woman's burden.
oOo
Even though she didn't like the contents at all and Dolohov's warning reverberated in her head, she gave herself a jolt. Who would keep something they wanted to hide in plain sight? A quick look couldn't hurt. With strength she pushed the door open and braced herself.
oOo
Schloss auf und war erschreckt
Welch grausig Bild hat sie entdeckt.
oOo
Opened the lock and was shocked
What a gruesome picture she discovered.
oOo
Her heart threatened to burst as she carefully put one foot after the other into the room. Her mind screamed at her to turn around or at least not to look, but she couldn't help it. Her eyes were riveted on the carnage. She wrinkled her nose and retched. The stench... it was beastly. She walked further, further in, swaying with every step. She did not want to see it all – she did not want to have to look at it and remember it later, but Hermione had to know that it hadn't hit anyone she knew.
oOo
Die Axt war scharf gewetzt,
Schon manches Weib von ihm zerfetzt.
Gestank drang aus dem Raum,
Von ausgeträumten Lebenstraum.
oOo
The axe was sharpened,
Many a woman he had torn to shreds.
The stench came out of the room,
Of life's dream dreamed out.
oOo
The blood under their feet made a smacking sound with every step they took. Women hung from the high ceiling, bound and lifeless. Their empty eyes stared at her. Hermione cried and stepped further inside. There – a woman, her blue dress and blonde hair encrusted with blood, he had split in two.
The next body had the base of the neck protruding from the silenced trouser suit. Head, hands and feet were missing.
Another he had stripped bare before neatly cutting her open and hollowing her out. Her alabaster skin hung in shreds from her sides. Hermione went down on her knees and threw up. Once. Twice. Three times. None of the faces she had known – fortunately or horribly – she had by no means looked at all of them. There were more, many more!
She continued to crawl. The pale faces of the dead seemed to follow her. Faster, faster! A young woman, almost a girl, had died on the rack and another with a plump figure had had all her fingers cut off and bled to death. The next one was missing her eyes and he had dissected her neck so that she had to look down her windpipe.
There were marks. Dragging. Crawling, perhaps. Someone had tried to escape. She followed the marks to the corner of the room and screamed. The girl with the flowing fox-red hair had made it to the corner before she drew her last breath.
oOo
Im Raum da hingen sie,
Aufgehängt wie Schlachthausvieh
Vor Schreck ihr Leib erstarrt,
Wie angewurzelt sie verharrt.
oOo
In the room there they hung,
Hanged like cattle for the slaughter
Her body frozen in terror,
Rooted she stood to the spot.
oOo
She had to leave. At once! Hermione scrambled to her feet and threatened to topple over. When she had regained her composure, she ran towards the majestic oak door. Her feet smacked, blood ate into her shoes and clothes. Before she had fully reached the door, a rumble of thunder sounded through the house.
Dolohov had returned. Hermione wanted to turn back and hide, but there was no escape in his own house.
He stood menacingly before her. The look from his dark eyes bored into her mind. "I told you that your curiosity would be your undoing." He grabbed her neck and squeezed. "Too bad."
Frantically, her hands flailed. Her fingernails scraped across his skin. Desperately, she tried to brace herself against his iron grip – but it was in vain. The strength gradually drained from her limbs. Her lungs burned like fire, while her gaze lost more and more of its fury. Mist crept in front of her lenses until finally she could see nothing.
That same evening she dangled from the ceiling like the others, her stomach slashed and her body drained of blood.
oOo
Der Herr kam heim und sah,
Dass die Kammer offen war.
Er sah sie dort im Blut,
Fluchte laut und sprach in Wut:
"Bei dir sollt's anders sein,
Doch nun wird dieser Raum dein Heim."
Versperrt war das Gemach,
Als der Herr zur nächsten sprach:
"Tritt ein, und sei bereit.
Bleib hier, für alle Zeit.
Sei frei, ich vertraue dir.
Alles steht offen bis auf diese Tür."
oOo
The Lord came home and saw,
That the chamber was open.
He saw her there in the blood,
He cursed aloud and spoke in anger,
"With you it shall be otherwise,
But now this room shall be your home."
The chamber was locked,
When the lord spoke to the next,
"Enter, and be ready.
Stay here for all time.
Be free, I trust thee.
Everything is open except this door."
oOo
His favourite game started all over again. Who did not love to win? You rub your hands together, rejoice and start the next round of Ludo. He was no different.
"I can help you hide. All I want in return is an obedient lover and housekeeper." Dolohov spoke in a grave voice that sent shivers through the young woman before him. Or it was Rowle calling loudly for him again.
Hannah Abbott nodded hastily. "I have no choice – the others are coming... I can handle that."
They sealed the deal.
Rowle glared angrily at Dolohov, as he emphatically secretly led his new conquest past them.
- Lyrics: Saltatio mortis "Tritt ein"