A/N Hello again guys! Nice long one today to make up for what your about to read. Thanks to Rose Weasley and Nikhil Malfoy for reviewing, always love hearing them. Hope your not too angry at me after this guys...
Chapter 30 - Time's Up
Draco glanced uneasily at the head girl's door. He hadn't seen her in four days. She hadn't been going down for meals, she hadn't been going to lessons - that much he did know, or at least not the ones with him in. He turned away, closing his eyes in dismay and bowing his head, exposing his neck to the February chill. He felt downhearted. As furious at her as he was, the anger he'd felt had burnt out now and he was left with a deep sensation of regret. He was furious at himself, too. He couldn't remember the last time he'd sworn at her. "Fuck sake," he exclaimed, kicking the sofa lamely. If only she'd just come out and apologise for abandoning him. But as stubborn as she was, he knew she wouldn't, and he wasn't about to go in there either. There was a hiss from the other side of the room and he turned to face the orange fur ball. He sincerely hoped that she'd forgotten to feed the beast. Its fiery eyes glared right back into Draco's grey orbs, causing him to look away with guilt. "It's her fault, not mine," Draco snarled at the cat. It hissed back. Draco narrowed his eyes and stormed out, slamming the portrait hard behind him. Anywhere was better than there. He shouldn't need to feel bad about her abandoning him so why in Merlin's name did he feel so ashamed?
"Where are you?" She whispered into the glum silence pressing in around her. She was busy gazing at the picture of Harry, Ron and herself. Picture Harry was sitting by the side of the frame, head in hands, thinking. Picture Ron was trying to talk to picture Hermione but she was having a blazing row at him. "Hey," Hermione began when picture Hermione started towards picture Ron. "Hey! Cut it out," she said, annoyed. They all looked at her. Picture Harry gave her an apologetic look and picture Hermione nodded, sitting herself down on a mossy rock. She sighed and turned away from the photograph, thinking. She wanted to confront him, yell at him for being a jerk. But she felt angry at herself too, for leaving him straight after... She looked down at her finger and slid off the ring, examining the inscription. "Forever," she murmured. She buried her head back into her pillow and punched the soft mattress beneath her, not knowing what to do. She wanted him to forgive her but for what?! For helping her friend? No if he was going to blame this all on her then he was the one who'd suffer. It wasn't as if she was suffering... Well maybe she was just a tiny bit. "Oh what am I thinking?" She moaned, "I've exhausted myself feeling angry! I just want things to go back to how they used to be!" She kicked the mattress beneath her and tried to think as methodically as she could.
The cold, February wind whipped past her window, roaring faintly behind the misted glass. Had she not been so lost in her thoughts then she may have heard the familiar swish of a broomstick and the pair of muffled voices. But she did hear the heart stopping smash of glass as the window was blown in and she screamed as shards of glass dug painfully into her bare feet. Icy, bitter wind whipped at her hair and sent the papers on her desk flying. She turned to face the window, a petrified look plastered across her timid face and a wand in her hand. "Well look who it is..." A woman swathed in black robes cackled maliciously form the window, "Mudblood." Hermione stared at the woman, confused and terrified. How the hell was she even here?! How had she gotten past the wards. She felt her lip begin to tremble and a growing feeling of dread. The witch took a step through the hole and that's when Hermione suddenly came to life.
"PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!" Screamed the head girl, backing towards her door.
"Naughty naughty tut tut," said the witch playfully, "Fenrir, get the girl!"
"Don't you EVEN THINK about coming near me!" Screamed Hermione, scrambling to unlock her door but it wouldn't budge. "Alohomora!" She shrieked but the door remained shut.
"Stupid bitch, think your magic is better than mine?!" The insane witch asked, laughing. All three of them were in the small dorm now, spells of all colours ricocheting off of the walls. "Bellatrix," growled Hermione. Bellatrix looked up at her with a mad gleam in her eyes. "Fenrir get the girl so we can go!" Barked the death eater and Fenrir pounced, doglike, landing on the bed in front of Hermione, trapping her between him and the desk. There was a loud crack and the bed sank a little. "IMPEDIMENTA!" Shrieked Hermione, terrified. What the hell was going on?! She had a death eater and a werewolf in her bedroom! Fenrir ignored the curse and leapt, landing on top of the girl and ripping at her arm with his claw like nails, lusting for blood. Hermione let out a high, bloodcurdling scream, flinging her arm wildly away from the beast, her hand clutching the wall beside her. She saw the beast from her glassy, terrified eyes, flitting between the bloodstains on his ripped clothes to the scratch marks embedded in his skin, old and new. Feeling the blood begin to seep through her robes, she used the last of her remaining strength to slide out from underneath him and throw herself towards the door with a last feeble attempt to get out. She flung open her wardrobe door in attempt to slow down the hound, jumping back as a pile of folded laundry tumbled to the floor in a heap.
Bellatrix licked her lips, smirking from the window ledge as Fenrir whipped around on all fours, forcibly kicking and breaking one of the legs on the desk behind him. The contents shattered to the floor and Hermione let out a scream of anguish when the door continued to defy her. With one last push - but the door never gave way. Fenrir wrenched the wardrobe door off its hinges and tossed it aside as if it where a used book, had seized the brunette by the hair and flung her onto the bed, which gave way with a thud. If there was a time where she'd want to scream for Draco now would be the time but she couldn't in front of Bellatrix. She'd kill him! Thinking feverishly, she screamed at the top of her lungs, praying that someone would hear her but Fenrir was on top of her again and had punched her square in the face, knocking her out cold. Her eyes rolled back in their sockets until they were met with blackness. She thought of Draco, wishing he would come running in just then but he never did. The last she heard was Bellatrix saying, "Put her on the broom." Then, silence.
Hermione woke up, but didn't open her eyes. She had had the most horrifying dream but couldn't quite remember it. It had been so vivid though, almost as if it where real. She groaned and only then became aware that the texture of her mattress felt like stone, cold and hard. Then a searing pain shot through her arm and she opened her eyes with a start, the realisation hitting her with the force of a charging bull. It hadn't been a dream.
At first glance she could tell she was in a house. Who's, she had no clue, though they must be very rich. It was a very depressing looking house filled with black and grey. Her eyes flickered across the smooth, stone slabs she was lying on, to check if the coast was clear. Unfortunately for her, it wasn't. A man was slouching in front of what she presumed was the front door, a bored expression planted on his face. He was dressed in boots and a long brown coat, possibly leather - she couldn't tell from the distance. His hair was long and matted together like an animal's and his eyes were dark, thinking. Hermione recognised him from the Daily Prophet. His name was Scabior and he was responsible for several snatchings and deaths. Hatred bubbled up inside her as she moved her head to get a better look at him. As she did this, she noticed a large proportion of portraits lining the walls. She recognised a few features but couldn't quite place them; the eyes, mouth, expressions, smirk. A stone thudded in Hermione's stomach. The platinum blonde hair they all shared said it all really. She now knew exactly whose house, or rather manor, she was in. A bead of sweat trickled down her forehead and along the bridge of her nose. She was in Draco's house and that could only mean one thing. She was going to come face to face with the beast who'd haunted her nightmares.
She let out an anguished gasp as her arm twinged painfully, causing Scabior to look up, a grin spreading across his cruel face. She locked eyes on his before gathering her thoughts and stumbling to her feet, reaching for her wand. But it wasn't there. Ignoring the throbbing pain in her arm, she turned and searched the floor, patting down her pockets but in vain - her wand must still be in her dorm. "Damn!" She exhaled angrily.
"What a pretty little face," a sickly voice sighed, breathing close to her ear and Hermione whipped around to see Scabior inches away from her. She backed away, mortified. "Pity, shame it will go to waste," he sighed wickedly, turning and striding towards the double doors opposite.
She could make a run for it now, whilst there was no one in the way of the front doors. But she wouldn't get five paces without her wand and there were bound to be enchantments upon the house, a great old manor like this. She looked at the high windows. Could she smash one to create a diversion? But Scabior was already walking back through the doors, followed by Bellatrix, swathed in black and a man with a pale face, slits for nostrils and dilated red eyes. He was no longer just an image in the prophet. No longer a phantom in her sleep. She laid her eyes upon the beast who haunted her nightmares for the first time, taking in the real thing.
He looked almost bored but as soon as he laid eyes upon the petrified girl, standing alone in the middle of the stone hall, his face lit up and he hissed. He treaded lightly across the stone floor until he was about five paces away from the girl and studied her, carefully. Hermione quivered, standing as strong as she could whilst under the gaze of the beast. Bellatrix had crept towards them and was standing just to the left of Voldemort, smiling insanely. The three of them stood in silence, Hermione too afraid to breathe.
At last, once the tension had reached an unbearable level, she asked firmly, "Why am I here?" Voldemort's lip curled.
"Why, you don't know?" He asked slowly, diverting his attention to Bellatrix for a second. Hermione stood still. "Well this is amusing isn't it. Dear dear, you must have thought we'd kidnapped you dear child. You see, young Malfoy has been set a task to do and unfortunately he has run out of time, so my dear Bellatrix had to do it instead," Voldemort said silkily, his icy voice sending chills down Hermione's spine. She was confused. Wasn't Draco's task to find information about Harry? What did she have to do with any of this?! "I don't understand," Hermione began unsteadily.
"Why would you? Let me tell you all about his task. He needed to find out where Saint Potter is, from you of course as you were a natural source of information. Then he was to finish you off, in kind words," Voldemort smiled icily. Hermione's heart dropped. Draco'd been asked to... Kill her? He'd sounded so sure of his place back in their dorm when he'd came back, said he was a death eater and he needed to do it to save his parents. Was he really going to kill her?! Fear and hate bubbled up inside her but the fear took over. Who cared about Draco now, she was trapped with no way out, face to face with Voldemort. "Come now, why the scared face mudblood?" He asked and she bit down on her lip, furious. "I only want to ask one question, then I will leave you alone. Just one question," smirked the snake man but Hermione was tapping her foot, mind set. "No," she said simply, voice shaking slightly, "I will not answer any of your questions. I will never help you." Voldemort's fake smile dropped. "How dare you defy the Dark Lord?!" Shrieked Bellatrix, shocked and furious, "He is your master! Your superior! You worthless filthy mudblood!"
"Silence yourself Bellatrix!" Voldemort said abruptly, clearly feeling short tempered. He took a step towards the head girl and she tried to stand her ground but with another step she began to back away. Black ropes shot from the end of Voldemort's wand and she gasped in pain as they tightened around her. Agony shot through her arm and she whimpered, trying to loosen the ropes but in vain. She felt herself lift a couple of centimetres off of the floor and stretched down with her toes, trying to regain solid ground.
"That's better," Voldemort declared softly once Hermione had given up fighting with the ropes and had turned to glare up at him, suspended in midair. Had she not been so petrified of him, she would have spoken out, screamed even but she knew better. Instead she looked at a small almost unnoticeable crack in the perfect stone floor, waiting. "So," he hissed, "Where is Harry Potter. It's a simple question, mudblood." Hermione exhaled hard, trying to focus on the more pressing problem and not the name calling. She didn't know exactly where they were, but she knew what they were doing and if Voldemort used legilimency then... Then he would see all about her relationship with Draco. She hadn't learned occlumency! What in Merlin's name was she meant to do?! "Oh Godric," she thought, freaking out, "What am I supposed to do?! They'll kill him!"
"I'm waiting," Voldemort said shortly, fixing his penetrating gaze hard on her small figure. "I don't know where he is," Hermione said hurriedly, panicking.
"Hmm," Voldemort sighed, "Must we do this the hard way mudblood?"
"I don't know! Please I..." She took a breath, eyes beginning to brim with petrified tears. She took another breath before saying, more calmly, "I don't know where he is. He left on Halloween. He didn't tell any of us he was going, he didn't tell us why he was going. No one knows where he is or why he left us." She tried to sound as convincing as possible, to try and prevent him from going to the lengths of legilimency. "Well then," Voldemort sighed, "I suppose we don't have much use of you." At that Hermione blanched. Voldemort drew his wand and Hermione instinctively tugged at the black ropes which only tightened and she screamed in frustration. All she could hear beyond her own screams was a cold, high laugh which filled the room, bouncing off the walls. She looked up to see Voldemort watching her struggle and she kicked uselessly at the bindings around her ankles. "Wait!" She shrieked as Voldemort opened his mouth to say what she knew would be the life ending curse. Voldemort smirked slightly and lowered his wand. She opened her mouth and began, slowly, "If you kill me then..." Then what. "Godric Hermione just think of something," she thought furiously. "Then I really will be of no use to you," she ended up saying, furious with herself. She was shaking now, begging Merlin that she wouldn't die right then and there. Voldemort's grin widened and he said cunningly, "You're a smart little mudblood, you know that hmm?" She didn't move, not knowing whether to nod or not. "I suppose you could provide useful, if Potter were to come and rescue his helpless mudblood," Voldemort ended, laughing. Bellatrix laughed too and Hermione winced. But it had worked, he wasn't going to kill her. "But, I do know you know why they left don't you, yes I can see it in your eyes. I do know that that little red headed Weasley went with him too, don't look too shocked," Voldemort smiled nastily. Fear crept back into Hermione's eyes and she fell completely silent. "Perhaps a little persuasion?" Voldemort asked in the same, cruel voice. "CRUCIO!" And again, Hermione was hit with the same, agonising curse although this was worse than Pansy's. This was a hundred times worse. Letting out a bloodcurdling scream, she dug her fingernails into her palms, trying to ignore the pain. The only thing keeping her together was the one, constant thought pounding in her head: "Don't tell him anything!"
She shook with pure pain. It was worse than a thousand red hot knives cutting into her. She felt sick and wanted to pass out. The colour had drained from her hands and she presumed that her face had turned a ghostly white. She wanted it to stop. She was screaming incoherent things at the top of her lungs and couldn't think straight. Her lungs hurt with the amount of screaming but she didn't care, she couldn't control it. She was writhing in the black ropes which were cutting into her, creating raw marks underneath them on her skin. Tossing her head this way and that she heard a cold voice, far far away in a distant place say, "I can make it stop. All you have to do is tell me where Potter is and what he is doing."
"No," Hermione gasped through gritted teeth, trying her best to endure the pain but it was too much. The curse if possible intensified and she screamed the loudest scream she'd ever screamed but she needed to scream. Screaming was the only thing stopping her from telling him all about Harry and what he was doing. "Just tell me," Voldemort said in a calm, almost sweet voice. She wanted to tell him, Merlin she wanted to tell him so badly. She wanted it to end. She wanted to die. But none of those things were an option. She could endure this. She had to, for the sake of every witch, wizard and muggle she had to keep Harry as safe as possible and if that meant pain then she would go to hell and back. "Just -"
"NOOOOOOOOO!" Hermione screamed, forcing herself to stop writhing and look him dead in the eye. She almost felt the tension between them as he narrowed his eyes and considered her. Glowering, he stopped the curse and flicked his wand, causing Hermione to fall onto a heap on the floor, shaking uncontrollably. "Pity," he said dryly, "Bellatrix, do what you please with the little brat. Keep her alive and lock her in the cellar. Do you understand?"
"Yes my lord," Bellatrix smiled sweetly, turning to Hermione with a cruel look. Voldemort turned on his heel and strode out of the room, black cloak billowing out behind him.
There was a cackle from the corner of the room, a cruel, vicious cackle that made Hermione look up from her heap on the floor and pear through her mass of hair which was clouding her eyes. Her eyes widened in horror as she saw Bellatrix striding towards her with her wand out. "Please," Hermione choked hoarsely. Bellatrix simply smirked and said wickedly, "Get up." Hermione tried to push herself up off the ground, having noticed that the ropes were no longer there but she couldn't do it; it hurt too much. "Get up you filthy little mudblood!" Shrieked Bellatrix, using her wand to lift her into the air and send her crashing against the stone wall. Hermione couldn't scream, she was too tired. She just wanted it to end, wanted to die. The only thing keeping her from closing her eyes and submitting to unconsciousness was the thought of what they'd do to her if she wasn't protesting. She had to stay awake. "Pathetic bitch," cackled Bellatrix gleefully. Hermione felt blood pooling around her head, drenching her hair in the thick red substance. "Tell me where he is," she hissed to the girl, straddling her so she couldn't move.
"Get off," Hermione cried out in pain as the woman clenched her wrist.
"Not until you tell me where the scared freak is," she hissed. Hermione just shook her head. "Tell me where he is!" Bellatrix demanded, pronouncing each syllable angrily.
"No," Hermione cried in pain. Bellatrix dug her fingernails into the girl's arm causing her to scream and twist, trying to get out from underneath her. "GET OFF OF ME!" She cried furiously, frustrated that yet again she was helpless in the face of a death eater. "Tell me where the boy is," Bellatrix demanded angrily in a childish voice. Hermione shook her head forcefully, somewhat glad to deny Bellatrix of what she wanted most. Seething with rage, Bellatrix drew a glinting object with one, swift movement and to Hermione's horror, she saw that it was a gleaming dagger.
Unsure on what she was planning to do, Hermione pushed with all her might against the witch on top of her, trying to flee the dagger but Bellatrix had gripped her wrist and was using the rest of her body to pin the brunette down. "Tell me," she said one last time and Hermione closed her eyes and to Bellatrix' fury, shook her head. The coldhearted witch brought down the dagger, straight into Hermione's left arm. Hermione let out an earth shattering scream, trying to wrench her arm back but Bellatrix had it in a firm grip and did not let go. "STOP!" She shrieked but to no good. Hermione screamed and screamed in pain as she felt Bellatrix carve out her arm but she wasn't going to say anything. She couldn't! Trying to remain strong, she raked her brain for positive things, anything which could drive away the pain.
An image of her mother swam into view. It was when she'd been about seven years old and her mum and dad had taken her to the book shop in town. She'd buried herself at the back of the shop in a pile of books and that was when she'd first discovered her love for reading. Her mum had taken her by the hand when she had kicked up a fuss about leaving, trying to persuade her daughter that she needed to go home. Hermione had cried and that'd been when Mrs Fabulinus, the elderly lady who owned the shop, had come over and given Hermione a book for free, smiling to her mum and saying it was nothing. She could picture her mum's warm expression, homely scent and warm hugs...
She opened her heavy eyelids to Bellatrix cackling with glee at her handiwork. She'd drifted through a state of semiconsciousness, in too much pain to even feel the stabbing of the knife. All she wanted was a long rest. She felt so faint. She didn't even put up much of a fight when Bellatrix had gotten to her feet and yanked her by the hair, dragging her along the stone floor. Her throat was dry from screaming, blood and tears stained most of her skin and her arm felt like it could shatter into a tiny, million pieces. She didn't dare look down. Once at the top of a set of stairs, Bellatrix bent down to grab her by the collar and lead her downstairs. Hermione tripped on every other step, stumbling and forgetting how to use her feet. Once at the bottom of the flight, Bellatrix pushed open the metal gate and shoved Hermione hard, into the room. She staggered, turning to see Bellatrix turning a key in the lock and casting a spell on the gate. The older witch cackled, grinning like a maniac and skipping back up the stairs, blood stained dagger in hand.
Slowly and heavily, Hermione crawled her way through the semidarkness into the far corner of the cellar she was in. The only light source was the thin beam coming from down the stairs. Soon, her eyes had adjusted enough for her to make out the room she was imprisoned in. It was fairly large, stone and very draughty. She whimpered and curled into a ball to keep warm, wrapping her shredded robes as best she could around her. She could now feel her arm throbbing in agony, a hundred times more painful than she'd originally felt. Taking a deep breath, she looked down at her arm. Her eyes widened and clouded over with tears. Her jaw began to wobble and she kicked furiously at the floor, frustrated and livid, flabbergasted that someone would do that. She looked down again at the word carved into her left arm: "Mudblood". The skin was swollen around where the knife had butchered her flesh and blood was streaming everywhere. If she lost too much more she was in danger of passing out. Her eyelids began to close.
Meanwhile, just when he'd had quite enough of the 'The Standard Book Of Spells, Grade 6', Draco snapped the book shut, shoved it in his bag and walked straight up to Madam Pince, two library books in hand. Draco cleared his throat and Madam Pince looked down her bespectacled nose at him, eyebrows raised. "I'd like to take out these books," he said stiffly, showing the lady a large tome with a moth eaten cloth cover, and a fairly modern looking book all about transfiguration. Madam Pince placed them heavily on her desk, took out a scroll of parchment and wrote "Malfoy, D." She then proceeded with a sequence of loopy letters which Draco could only assume were the titles and handed the books back to him, which he bagged. Turning on his heel, he headed out the library for the stairs to go down to dinner. Midway to the grand staircase however, Draco shook his head, turned on his heel again and headed towards the head dorms. This was getting ridiculous. He'd go in, try and apologise without actually apologising and then act like nothing had ever happened.
"Spero," he muttered upon reaching the portrait and headed inside the warm, homely room. "Hermione," he said outside her door. No reply. "For Merlin's sake Hermione open this Merlin forsaken door!" He cried heatedly. Nothing. He tried the handle. "Look just unlock the door," he sighed, "I... I want to apologise for the way I treated you on Valentine's Day. I... I was a bit of a jerk... I guess I just want you to know that I feel shit about what happened. Can we just forget about it?" Silence. He rattled the door handle. "Hermione?" He asked, confused. "Hermione!" He called, more anxious. She was in there, she had to be. Why else would the door be locked. They had administered spells and passwords on them for when entering but that completely closed the door. This door was locked from the inside. He could hear the lock. "Hermione just open the God damn door!" He snapped, tugging at the door. He whipped out his wand and incanted, "Alohamora." But the door wouldn't budge. "Fuck sake. Hermione are you even in there?!" He yelled through the door but again, no reply. His heart rate picking up, Draco heaved at the door, trying to physically break the anti alohamora charm but to no effect. Cursing and kicking the door, he muttered something about silent treatment and girls being a nightmare, before raising his wand and blasting a small hole where he'd imagine the lock would be. To his delight, the spell worked and he was easily able to yank open the door.
He wished he hadn't. His jaw dropped and his heart began pumping twice the usual amount of blood around his body. "HERMIONE!" He yelled, staring around the utterly destroyed room before streaking to the smashed window to stare out of it. Had she jumped? He couldn't see anyone down there, no mangled body no bushy brown hair. He turned around and gawked at the sinking, broken double bed and the trashed mess of wood and splinters of what he'd assumed had been a table. There was a heap of laundry on the floor which had spilled from the wardrobe, who's door was lying halfway across the room. He walked over to the splinters of desk and saw, to his absolute horror, blood stains on the floor and wall. Furious, scared tears started crawling their way to escape down Draco's cheeks but he swatted them away, focusing suddenly on the smear of blood across Hermione's white pillows and bed sheets. He saw her wand, undamaged but blood spattered on the edge of her bed and swore under his breath.
Sucking in his breath, he drew two fingers and wiped them over the smear. A tiny shred of relief broke through him. The blood was fresh, meaning that whatever had happened had happened not that long ago. She could still be alright. He needed to know what the fuck had happened, and when. Eyes fleeting across the room for the last time, he turned and ran out into the corridor, sprinted his way to the staircase and jumped the stairs, three at a time. Spinning around, he flung himself down the next flight of stairs and had to grab hold of the banister to stop himself from hurling himself over the side.
He waited impatiently for the next flight of stairs to arrive, tapping his foot repeatedly. He didn't notice the portraits muttering and looking in his direction, didn't flinch at the sight of Mrs Norris eyeing him nastily. Not waiting for the staircase to finish its journey, he jumped the two feet in between him and it and clattered down the steps, throwing himself onto the platform a metre below, landing catlike, panting. Regaining his stance, he walked quickly to the great hall and scanned the room for a blaze of red hair. Spotting her in amongst Longbottom and some blonde girl, he shook himself into character and walked moodily up to her, plastering his face with a half cruel, half monotonous expression. "Hey Weasley," he called when he was about five paces away. Surprised, Ginny turned around in her seat and stared at him. "I need to talk to you about quidditch. Now," he demanded, his foot beginning to tap again. "I'm busy," she retorted and turned back around. "Weasley!" He said angrily and she turned back around, opening her mouth to complain but noticed a tiny bead of sweat breaking across his forehead. "Now!" He repeated and she begrudgingly got up.
"You don't have to listen to him," Dean said from across the table.
"Yeah he's probably just mucking -" Parvati began but Draco had already turned and was walking towards the door, Ginny following with a wild look.
Once beyond the great hall doors, Draco turned to Ginny and dropped his expression. "When did you last see Hermione?" He rushed, regaining his worried look. Ginny looked to the ceiling and said, "You dragged me out here to -"
"Just answer the fucking question already!" Draco said loudly, stressing out.
"I don't know! Like... Yesterday. She was in my dorm yesterday. What's it to you Draco you've really pissed her off!" She said back icily. Draco sighed in slight relief. "Now tell me what is going on," demanded Ginny. Draco processed the possibilities quickly in his mind before speed walking back up to his dorm. "You should probably see this!" Draco called behind him. Exasperated, Ginny looked back at the great hall, everyone chatting merrily and happily enjoying their well deserved feast, before running towards Draco who was proceeding towards the dimly lit grand staircase. Three shadows darted after them.
Once on the third floor, Draco bolted towards the waterfall painting, muttered "Spero," and plunged his hand into it, pressing the button and toppling inside as the door swung open. Ginny soon caught up, panting. "What is this about?!" She panted, clambering in after him. Then she saw what it was about. Hermione's dorm was in a state. Blood, broken furniture and shattered glass littered the room and the cold air gusting through the smashed window. "What..." Ginny croaked, aghast.
"I don't know. I... I think she's been..." But Draco couldn't carry on. Furious tears were trickling down his ghostly pale face. Then he spotted it, glinting innocently on the floor by her tattered bed. The ring. He stooped down and picked it up, fresh tears welling in his eyes and he clamped his fist around it before pocketing it. This was his fault. His, and there was nothing he could do about it.
"Draco look at this," Ginny said stiffly.
Looking up, he spotted what Ginny was looking at. A note was blowing in the breeze, pinned down on the windowsill by a small, jagged rock. Ginny unscrolled the parchment and read, confused by the message. "What's it say?" Draco asked, urgently. "Time's up," Ginny said nonplussed, handing the note to Draco, who snatched it. His eyes widened to the size of dinner plates and he dropped the parchment, which bounced back into a scroll. He clutched the windowsill, gasping for breath, feeling a large lump form in the pit of his stomach. "What?" Ginny asked anxiously, "What is it?"
"That's..." Draco began in a deadly quiet whisper, "That's my aunt's handwriting. They have her. The death eaters have Hermione." And he couldn't continue any more. Feeling the last of his will melt away, he slid down the wall (completely oblivious to the shards of glass), and wrapped his hands round his knees, crying silently.
A/N Well then... Hope Hermione's going to be okay. Find out in two weeks time in the next chapter! See you!