A/N:
Chapter title inspiration: "In the midst of darkness, light persists." - Mahatma Gandhi

TW: references to death


Chapter 17: In The Midst Of Darkness

Harry's words were like a light switch in Hermione's mind, and when she woke the following morning, she knew exactly what she had to do, and who she had to find.

It would have been nice if it was as simple as that, simply wanting to do something to actually get it done in the Games, but she was no fool to believe that was true. There was no doubt that whatever her path forward would be, it wouldn't be easy.

Her conviction was strong though. Harry's words had resonated so deeply within her, and her worries about having been too hard on Malfoy pushed through to the forefront of her mind.

How could she have known?

Of course, they were in the Games and he should have wanted to kill her, but she had faulted him for not acting on it. For doing differently than what everyone, including her, expected.

For doing what she hoped someone would do.

Maybe his actions towards here were his way of preserving his sanity. Maybe it was all his way of being good while he was still around.

And maybe there was a deeper reason even, the one he had hesitated sharing with her, but it didn't matter what it was - just that it was there. It was there and he had risked his life to try and show her without being able to tell her, and despite everything he had done before that she had misconstrued as brazenness and cockiness, maybe that was just who he was and how he dealt with things.

At the end of it all, she didn't think he was a monster.

She felt the truth of that statement with every inch of her being.

It was as if she had forgotten that he was in the Games against his will just like her. It was possibly even worse for him. At least in Districts like twelve, they could see it coming. They knew what to expect, and when to expect it. The reaping happened every year on the same day, with the same television crew, and the same speeches. Each year, each District lost two young souls. Every single person knew it could be them next, or their children, or their friends' children. The thought of it hung over you every single day.

Just like living in the Districts, there was no escape from the reality of the Games.

But Malfoy was from Pure Capital. Them sending a tribute was unheard of, the complete opposite of what the Games were even intended for. Their entire existence was sculpted by people like him, not for people like him. He had likely had no time to prepare, no time to come to terms with the future that lay ahead of him.

He wasn't a monster. Like her, he had just been set up by one.

Hermione spent her morning quietly, trying to find a comfortable place to rest along the branch she was on. She found another bush of berries, this time right near her tree, and collected handfuls after confirming they were safe to eat. She munched on them for lunch and then climbed back into her tree to drown in her thoughts.

As the day reached an almost unbearable heat, she dozed in and out of consciousness under the shady cover of leaves overhead. When she was awake, she found herself whistling a tune stuck in her head that she couldn't remember ever hearing before. When she was asleep, the day was silent.

As the afternoon wore on, the pit in her stomach was so easily confused for hunger. She placed strip after strip of rabbit meat into her mouth as she tried to think of where to start.

If she were Malfoy, where would she be?

And that was the biggest problem of all. She didn't know. She barely knew him at all. What his tendencies were, his quirks, where in the arena he felt comfortable - she knew none of it.

Frustrated, she climbed down from her tree and sat herself down in the circle of ash. Though she only had her memory to go off of, she began to draw a map of what the arena might have looked like.

She knew where the river was, and that it was far from where she currently sat because there was no sound of water. She plotted the sentient tree that almost killed her, the spot she thought was likely to be where Harry was hiding, and the place she saw the female tribute Hannah get killed. She noted where Malfoy flew her to and what could have been the location of where she hunted.

It covered an area of what she presumed was about 10 miles. But it was very likely that there were still acres of unknown and unexplored terrain left that she hadn't yet come across and therefore couldn't plot.

The grim reality was, that he could be anywhere.

The hours passed Hermione by quickly as the sun moved from above into the west and she realized an entire day was almost gone but she was no further than she was that morning.

At some point, somewhere between then and when the sun began to set, she heard a canon. The echo of it ricocheted against the trees, bouncing and expanding as it passed like a wave through the forest. She jumped at the sound and scurried back up to her tree before the echo subsided.

The eerie silence that followed was the kind that was impossible to ever get used to.

As evening settled, her food supply started to run low. She continued to snack nervously, knowing the darkness was no time to try and go out to hunt. She would likely have to leave her spot anyway if she were to have any chance of finding Draco, but now was not the time.

She fell asleep early, just briefly seeing the announcement of the fallen, a tribute from District 3 named Terry. The anthem lulled her to sleep shortly after.

By the next day, the situation with Hermione's food was dire. She now had two goals: find Malfoy and find food, in no particular order, though chronologically would be preferred. Maybe he would have food on him that he wouldn't mind sharing.

It was wishful thinking after how things had left off between them.

She didn't know where her search would take her, but she had to assume she might not make her way back to the tree again. She packed up her camp and set off in a new direction.

Her path took her towards an unexplored area of the arena as it led away from all of the places she had mapped. It was a risk, since she didn't know what was out there, but it was also a risk to only look for him in the areas she already knew.

At the point she was at, everything was a risk.

There was no way to know what awaited her in the new part of the arena, but with her bow draped over her back and the quiver of arrows slung over her shoulder, she hoped she was equipped enough to handle it.

An hour later, as the morning sun was just starting to rise, she came upon an area that looked promising. Not for finding Malfoy, but for food.

It was lush with trees, the kind that had bright green leaves as if they had absorbed only warm sunlight their whole life. They spread amongst rolling hills, one after another, towering over her like the skyscrapers in Pure Capital. She felt infinitesimal beneath them.

She readied her bow, tugging an arrow between her finger along the string, and powered forward as a promising feeling settled over her. She walked for a few paces, nothing but the sound of gravel crunching under her feet as her anchor to reality, and passed her eyes around the space.

A quick glance to the left, a shoot of her eyes to the right, a look up ahead. Her eyes flashed back and forth until she started to feel dizzy, and then she stopped.

Rooted amongst the trees, she pulled her head up to the sky and looked at them. They swayed with the wind like a ruffle of feathers, green and bright and strong. It brought a smile to her face that she couldn't hold back.

She felt so much peace in the forest, the presence of large trees like a protective hug around her that she couldn't quite explain the sensation of. The sound of the leaves rustling, the quiet howl of the wind, even the feeling of soil and dirt beneath her shoes, it all felt like home.

At the end of it all, if she were going to die in these Games, at least she could do it in a place where she felt comfort. Few could say they got that luxury.

In the silence, she was well equipped to hear a rustle of bushes not far off from where she stood. Her eyes snapped down to the sound and caught the barely-there shift of movement - a shade of brown amongst the tree trunks, a pair of antlers, and then it jumped across her path just metres away, as if it was almost too good to be true.

It was a deer, and if she could catch it, she would hit the jackpot. It could feed her for weeks.

The deer stopped suddenly, turning its head towards her like a greeting, and already primed, she shot at it quickly. The arrow flew through the air at the perfect trajectory before the animal suddenly sprung from its spot and galloped into the woods. The arrow barely missed it, falling to the ground soundlessly.

She Accio'd the arrow and followed after it.

It darted between trees, picking up pace at the threat of Hermione running behind it and she felt her heart start to race in her chest. It sprung one way and she shot after it, then another way and she followed quickly behind. Each time the arrow left her bow, it would just graze the animal's body, nearly piercing it, before it bolted in a different direction.

Leaves and bushes slapped against her skin as she ran, arrows flying in all directions as she just kept up with accio'ing the ones that missed before loading up to shoot the next. Her eyes were locked dead on her target, as each jolt of the animal caused it to lose speed and allowed her to catch up, but each shot she made slowed her down in turn.

The make-up of trees slowly started to shift from lush and green, arching over her like a canopy, to thinning and grey. She didn't initially notice the change until an unsettling chill coursed through her body.

Her muscles reacted to the sensation oddly, tightening beneath her skin as if a lightning bolt had incapacitated them frozen. She felt her legs start to give out beneath her, moving slower and slower though her mind willed her body to keep going. The breath came out of her in rapid pants, as she felt the coils of her lungs contract tightly and her chest concave in response.

She came to an abrupt stop.

The deer paused, looked back at her, and then bolted out of view into deeper parts of the woods before it was gone.

Hermione looked around her, realizing she was in a completely different part of the forest than she came from. It was technically the same forest, but nothing looked right.

Every tree was like a carbon copy of the one next to it, and the one after that, tall and straggling as if each one was on its dying breath. It was an unsettling illusion, like an army of thinning soldiers in straitjackets. She spun around as a grey fog started to roll towards her from all ends of the forest.

It prickled her skin as she watched it coat the ground, rising into the air until it was nearly at her hip. It brought with it cold, a piercing kind that bit at her, digging deep into her flesh and bones.

The only concession was that she felt her magic still course through her body, tingling at her fingertips.

Dread settled over her core like a blanket and then suddenly tightened, sucking the breath out of her as she stumbled forward. The dread was overwhelming, unlike anything she had ever felt before. All her gruesome fears and memories started to rise to the surface, of her own death, of her parents perishing in the fire, burned alive as they called out for help with nobody to save them.

She didn't come. It was her fault, her hands that carried their blood, her soul that was stained with the remnants of their life.

The fog swarmed around her and she could feel the chill deep in the core of her bones as her mind continued to swim, to drown, in dreadful visions.

Death. Blood. Ripped limbs. Scorched skin.

Something was wrong. Something was terribly, awfully, inexplicably wrong.

Torn flesh. Blood. Death.

Her mind filled with the scream that she had buried in the deepest pits of her mind, the scream that she had convinced herself was an illusion as she stood before her family house and it burned to a crisp, the scream that she was certain was the last sign of her parent's life before flames consumed it to an end.

Blood. Death. Death.

Death.

She tried desperately to shut her eyes but they remained open and frozen. A dense wall of darkness swam up ahead of her, growing closer and closer, until she could scarcely register faint shapes.

Swirling shapes that moved in a great wave.

Hermione strained against the fear and emptiness within her, trying to push against it with all her might, just to give her mind any room to breathe and think.

The shapes were dark and hooded.

An unknown entity, moving towards her as the cold only grew more bitter and harsh, slicing through her flesh like razors.

Don't lose it, Hermione. Don't lose it.

The figures seized movement just paces away from her and hovered around a single point, as if watching or waiting for something.

Her eyes adjusted slowly to the darkness they swept behind them and the pain from the clench of her jaw as she pushed her Occlumency to its limits was nothing compared to the pain she felt everywhere else.

Pages flashed through her mind, one after another, sifting through entire books in seconds, as she searched needlessly for an answer, for a remedy to the nightmare she found herself in.

Her mind landed on a single image, a word outlined at the top of a page.

DEMENTORS, it read.

She felt her limbs go numb, as the cold started to strangle her. Pushing, aching, on the verge of collapse, she willed her eyes to focus on the rest of the page.

DEFENCE:

The image shifted as her breathing grew more rapid. She blinked hard, pressing whatever she could still feel of her heels sharply into the ground like an anchor. She pushed the remnants of her mind to try again.

DEFENCE:

It blurred again quickly, the word she needed just out of reach, just slightly too hazy to comprehend. Her jaw ached from the sheer force of her magic, as her body fought against her but she pulled everything she had into keeping upright. To keep seeing.

The warm tears felt like a slice down her tender cold cheeks and she wanted to scream out, to collapse and let the cold just take her, but she couldn't.

DEFENCE: Pat

So close. The words were still blurry. She rubbed at her eyes harshly.

DEFENCE: Patro

Almost there.

DEFENCE: Patronus

It blurred in and out of her view and then vanished as the pages started to flip again.

Her shoulders sagged as relief sank deep within her. Hermione had no time to think, to hesitate, or to plan. She focused on a single spindle within her reservoir of memories, clawing with everything she had to wrap her magic around it.

There was so little left in that reservoir, most happy thoughts long overshadowed by darkness, but it wasn't empty. There was still something there, faint, but it was there. A calming rhythm and presence she knew so well. Her magic reached for it, grasping and pulling, until it wrapped just a single vine around the pulse.

She gathered all the strength left within her, every ounce laced into her core, her limbs, her muscles, and brain and pushed it out of her with a grunt, "Expecto Patronum!"

Ginny's face flashed against her lids as the sliver of happiness anchored the spell forward.

Her silver bird darted out of the tip of her wand like a flame igniting, flapping its wide wings with a resounding smack. There was no hesitation in its movements as it charged towards the swarming creatures.

It barrelled into them like a speeding train, blinding silver light exploding outwards with an unparalleled might and force. Her bird flapped its wings in attack, chirping at the dementors, clawing and biting at their hooded forms. Piercing wails filled the air as they pulled their hoods further over their faces in agony and continued to be pushed back.

Hermione kept her arm as steady as she could but her knees buckled as the sounds of their cries bounced and echoed through the forest. She pressed her body to the ground, shutting her eyes forcefully, tears nearly suffocating her as she willed the world to let it all be over.

And then the horrid sounds cut off abruptly.

Cowered behind a tree, she gasped for breath as the fog started to creep back, pulling the darkness with it. She took greedy gulps of air, feeling as the staccato of her heart beat wildly against the confines of her chest.

Letting her eyes drift open and adjust to the sudden light, she peered out slowly from behind a bush. The forest was lush and green again, a stark contrast to what it looked like when the mayhem began.

Her Patronus was still present, flapping its wings wildly in one spot, though the threat had clearly subsided. The bird circled in a continuous rhythm, looking out towards her and cawing for attention. She pushed herself to her feet gingerly, letting the blood flow through her body as she started to take cautious steps towards it.

What could it possibly still want from her, and why did she feel so foolish walking towards it as if another trap awaited her?

When she neared, her hand pulled towards it to try and pet it, to thank it for saving her life, but it vanished beneath her fingers in a mist of silver and white. She wasn't sure if she imagined the entire thing as her eyes passed over the hazy space, bushes and overgrown weeds all around, until she spotted a drop in the shrubs that didn't look natural, as if it wasn't supposed to be there at all.

As she took a step forward towards the drop, and her eyes slowly focused, they settled on a misshapen body laying still along the ground.

A boy with a blonde head of hair that was unmistakable.

"Oh my god," she breathed, her wand hand falling limp at her side, knees on the verge of buckling again, before she collapsed to the forest floor.


A/N:
So sorry for the cliffie :') next weeks' chapter is the one everyone has been waiting for, and you don't want to miss it