The waves were crashing against the large rocks, sending sprays all over. A thick mist lay low, making the area seem gloomy and miserable. The wind gave a tremendous howl and nearly knocked Hermione off her feet if not for the fact that she was still gripping onto Dumbledore's arm.

"Let us proceed," came Dumbledore's calm voice, even though Hermione could barely see him. She turned to her left and could barely make out the figure of Draco, who was no longer holding onto Dumbledore. As they moved on, she found his silhouette blurring, and reached out to grab onto him.

"Granger!" came the familiar hiss, and he shook her off.

"Stay close," she whispered.

He grunted and moved closer. When the mist swirled around them and seemed to thicken, he had no choice but to place his arm on her shoulder. Hermione jerked a little when his hand came into contact with her. It was rather chilly, and they had only their school robes over their uniform given that the wintry weather at Hogwarts was over. Draco scowled as he moved along with Dumbledore and Hermione. Between them, to have his hand led by them, he'd rather Granger any day than Dumbledore.

What am I saying?

He could feel her shudder under his touch – he wasn't sure whether it was out of shock or because she was cold. But when he could feel the chill eat into his skin, he figured that she was probably freezing too. His grip on her shoulder tightened.

The cave that Dumbledore had mentioned came into sight as the mist faded a bit. Dumbledore whispered something, and a fair deal of the mist cleared. He hurried them along the rocks, as much as they could amidst the strong winds, and the large amounts of sea spray which were drenching the left halves of their bodies as well as the rocks they were on.

When they were finally in the shelter of the cave, Hermione couldn't really feel her limbs; everything before her was blurred by water – thanks to the irritating sea spray. She blinked twice and nearly lost her balance, if not for Draco's arms catching her before she hit the ground.

She almost wanted to chide him for touching her, but her head was swimming, and her legs refused to straighten. She felt herself being lowered down slowly to the ground, and then Draco's voice boomed at the side,

"I don't think she's ready to go in."

She wanted to protest; she had to go in. But Dumbledore seemed to agree with Draco, and then she felt Draco sink down beside her, while Dumbledore paced the length of the cave, his fingers trailing the walls of the cave.

"Granger!" She was startled by someone shaking her shoulder. Her hand reached up to grip her forehead, and she shook miserably. To her surprise, a fire lit up in front of her, crackling merrily despite the dampness of the cave, and the heat was so welcoming that it brought a little smile to her face as she stared at the licking flames.

There was a long silence, before Hermione eventually felt the load pressing down in her head slowly disappear, and she could feel the heat of the flames warming her limbs. Dumbledore looked down kindly at her, and offered a hand. "Miss Granger, I assume you are ready?"

Hermione nodded, and began to scramble up, whilst the fire disappeared to reveal the cold, damp atmosphere of the cave once again. Draco's hands were outstretched, as if to catch her again, but she turned around and gave him a small smile. Startled, Draco retrieved his hands, sticking them into his robes and looked sullen all over again.

"I must warn the two of you," said Dumbledore, as he raised his palm over the rocks. "That I still feel that you are not qualified enough to undertake any challenges that Voldemort may have put in place to guard his Horcruxes – " He cocked an eyebrow to a sour-looking Draco, who clearly did not appreciate being underestimated. "So please obey me when I bid you to retreat or leave. I don't need heroes in there."

Hermione nodded fervently while Draco eyed Dumbledore suspiciously.

"Why would Fawkes lead you directly to Wentervale if it was only a Portkey? How did Wentervale know Fawkes was a Portkey?"

Dumbledore sighed. "Remember I said that it only acts as one when I want it to? Perhaps it knew what I wanted to look for to get rid of all the bad elements in the wizarding world. Merlin's beard, how naive I sound now! As for Wentervale, he is a very clever man, that is all I can say."

The Headmaster then ran his hand swiftly down one of the jagged edges of the rock, drawing a gasp from Hermione, and Draco's head snapped up. There was blood trailing down Dumbledore's hand, and Hermione was about to pull out her wand, only to be stopped by a slight shaking of the head from Dumbledore, as he placed the bloody hand on the side of a flat rock.

There was an earth-shattering sound as the rock moved. Hermione and Draco instinctively covered their ears and tried to maintain their balance as the whole place started to vibrate. The rock moved to reveal an entrance that was filled with mist. Dumbledore calmly made his way through the mist curtain, while Hermione hesitated before trudging in thereafter. So many thoughts were bombarding Draco's mind as he entered behind her, only to be jerked out of them with another booming sound followed by the closure of the door. He stared blankly at the sealed exit, then gritted his teeth and began the descent down the slippery and narrow staircase.

The cold didn't last long. Slowly, but surely, there were gusts of warmth which slowly became balls of heat blowing their way, and Draco started to feel very uncomfortable. He could see that Hermione was feeling the same way, because she was constantly tugging at the collar of her uniform. Dumbledore seemed to be quite unperturbed however and Draco cursed inwardly at how he seemed completely impervious to anything.

It wasn't long before they had reached the same place where Dumbledore had arrived at on his first trip; but to Draco's surprise – since he was expecting a sea of lava from what Dumbledore had narrated, as well as due to the heat – there was only water. It was like an underground pool. The water was lapping at the end of the staircase, and Draco could barely see beyond the staircase to what was in the middle of the pool.

"He's not here," said Dumbledore, waving his wand to conjure up a small platform that could fit all three of them on it. "And I believe it is of paramount importance that we find him first."

When Draco got onto the platform with Hermione, he saw that in the middle of the pool, was a small landing, with a huge basin on top of it. But Dumbledore caught him staring, and firmly reiterated that they were to find Maldash Wentervale first, or at least clues to where he might have been.

"Assuming that Wentervale has yet to get his hands on the Horcrux here," said Dumbledore, as they floated along the side of the cave. "It is best to find out what he knows so far, rather than risk our lives battling the Inferi. There may be more traps than our naked eye can see, so we must be cautious."

Draco was about to argue, his breath caught in desperation as he eyed the basin, but Hermione tugged at his robe sleeve, giving him a warning glare. He swallowed back his retorts, and maintained a grim sneer on his face. Dumbledore was right after all; there was nobody in the world right now that Draco wanted to see so much as Maldash Wentervale. He was the key to everything that Draco wanted to know. Or at least, most of it. Draco's eyes remained fixed on the huge basin as they sailed further away from it.

"Why would Wentervale be staying here if Voldemort can find him so easily?" whispered Hermione. There was another narrow landing ahead, and Dumbledore directed the platform towards it.

"I don't believe Wentervale stays here," replied Dumbledore, in an unusually cheerful tone. "But I believe there is something around here that allows him to enter with ease but prevents He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named from going through."

"How can Wentervale be so powerful?" demanded Draco, finally speaking up.

"That is a question we must ask him, I'm afraid," said Dumbledore, grimly. "But I should think he will not last much longer, since he has an incurable disease which even his powerful Healing skills are unable to tackle. He has been in hiding for very long, and with not much supplies I believe, hence he cannot stay that strong for long."

"But Professor, you said he Disapparated the last time you saw him," countered Hermione.

Dumbledore shook his head. "No, he didn't Disapparate. There are anti-Apparition wards here, as I encountered myself in my previous trip. It was only outside that I was able to Apparate to safety where I could meet with the – " He threw Draco a glance, then continued rather heartily. "The people I trust. During Umbridge's stay at Hogwarts."

Hermione understood that he wasn't about to reveal much of the Order to Draco, and nodded, while Draco eyed Dumbledore suspiciously.

When they reached the landing, all three alighted from the platform and Dumbledore began to lead the way. However they reached a dead end, or rather there was only a narrow crack in the rock wall – narrow enough only for Hermione and Draco. Dumbledore eyed the crack thoughtfully, and then looked back at the students, who were frowning.

"I'm afraid Wentervale was a man of small stature," he said, with an air of resignation. "So I must ask two people who are of his size to pursue him instead."

"Professor, you're not coming along?" Hermione's voice was laced with horror.

Dumbledore looked at the crack again. "I should think not. It seems to remind me that this mission is not really mine to embark upon."

"You said we were not to act as heroes, and now you want us to go on alone?" accused Draco, furiously.

Dumbledore turned to look at Draco very seriously. "My first reaction after my first visit, was to look for Mr Potter to join me on this trip. But as he was caught up with a series of entanglements regarding the demise of his godfather, the incident at the Ministry of Magic, and various others, I confess that I myself have been putting this off long enough. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is getting more powerful every moment, and indeed I desire to destroy every one of the Horcruxes he has created."

This declaration prompted Draco to snarl a little, but Dumbledore continued, unfazed.

"But I am not the one destined to destroy him, it seems."

"Well, Potter is the one, according to the prophecy," growled Draco, his eyes flashing. "And so why are you bringing me here instead of darling Potter? Aren't you afraid that I'll send the Dark Lord after you?"

"Dra – Malfoy!"

"Shut up, Granger, this isn't your argument!" snapped Draco, and Hermione went rigid. His eyes were fixed on Dumbledore, and the look in them horrified her immensely. Her hand slipped to her wand, hoping that she didn't need to pull it out.

"Because it is only you who can make Wentervale talk," said Dumbledore, simply. "Wentervale thinks nothing of Harry. In his opinion, the prophecy is inconsequential; Wentervale has access to secrets that will cripple You-Know-Who by a good third or half. He hardly trusts anyone, but yet he owes your father two for letting him escape twice. Is that not a good enough reason you have to make him talk?"

"You're a wily old fox!" shrilled Draco. "You're using me!"

"Mutualism," said Dumbledore, looking at Draco with a sagely air.

"I'm a Death Eater," shot back Draco, menacingly. Hermione shuddered when he said it; it was a fact, stamped on him not just in Mark, but it seemed to radiate from every fibre of his being. "Nothing about the Dark Arts is mutual."

"You're quite right, Draco." Dumbledore had switched to using his first name, and Draco's eyes flashed again. "But as it is, you are dealing with me. Pardon my arrogance, but I would consider myself the antithesis to the Dark Arts."

"So you don't care if Maldash Wentervale hexes the first person he sees on sight, just like how Cedric Diggory was murdered on first sight?" Draco sneered. "And you were the one who said we weren't capable enough to handle whatever the Dark Lord might have placed around this place!"

Dumbledore paused. Hermione went white.

"I believe I do know what is in store for you, Draco. And I know you capable enough to handle it."

"You –"

"Can you stop arguing?" Hermione cut in, rather furiously. "There's not a lot of time left, and if you want to get to Wentervale fast, you'd just bite back your tongue, suppress your bloated ego, and just get on with it! I'd say you're using me as much as Professor Dumbledore is trying to use you, so stop being so touchy when you're pretty much a hypocrite!"

Draco's jaw dropped, turning a disbelieving gaze to Hermione, but she was already advancing towards the crack and squeezing her way through it.

"Move it, will you?" She turned back to glare at him.

"Then what are you going to do, stand guard?" demanded Draco, sarcastically, as he glared at Dumbledore just as fiercely as Hermione was doing to him.

"As it is, I will do some exploring of my own," said Dumbledore, disconcertingly cheerful once again. "I have faith in your abilities, my dears, as long as it is not dealing with Inferi."

"Oh, and so you have faith in us dealing with Wentervale..."

"Malfoy!"

"Alright, shut up, I'm coming!" Draco nearly yelled, if not for the fact that he might summon the whole army of Inferi up with his voice. Scowling, he pushed through the crack, leaving Dumbledore to stand outside. The smile on his face vanished, and was replaced by something quite undecipherable – perhaps, one could say a mix of worry and pride.

-.-.-.-.-.-

"I can't believe this..." Ron's face was pale now. "She's with Malfoy? Do you know what you're saying, Harry, he's a Death Eater!" He was getting increasingly agitated. "I told you that sending Hermione to spy on him was a mistake, a complete mistake!"

"Shut up, Ron, Harry's feeling horrid enough!" snapped Ginny, her arm linked with Harry's as the bespectacled boy sat there, looking white. She could feel the colour drain out of her face as she thought of Hermione telling her that she needed to build up 'rapport' with Malfoy. "Is there no way we can try to find out where they could possibly be?"

"If they're with Dumbledore – then Hermione should be quite safe," whispered Harry, but his clenched fists suggested that he was thinking of the worst. Ron gave a snort and sank back into the armchair. Ginny swallowed hard, and was about to say something when there were footsteps behind them.

"Hey, what happened to all of you after you unmasked Malfoy? You guys just disappeared!" Neville walked towards them. "Oh and where's Hermione? She just disappeared halfway after talking to Professor Slughorn."

Harry sat up immediately. "She was talking to Professor Slughorn?"

"Yeah, she said she wanted to discuss something important with him." Neville wrinkled his nose. "Not quite sure what, but I saw her bringing him to the Firewhisky area. Then – then I didn't see them after a while, I was too busy talking to Luna. She looked terribly bored."

"Firewhisky?" Ron stared at Neville, blinking. "Since when did Hermione drink Firewhisky?"

"You said Hermione must have taken the Cloak!" Ginny remembered suddenly. "And she gave it to Malfoy?"

"She sneaked Malfoy in? And she drinks Firewhisky with Slughorn? And then we find Malfoy sneaking around, then he suddenly ran out, and she's gone, and you say they're together?" Ron was growing wild.

"Well, if neither of you took it, it must be Hermione, right?" Harry threw up his hands.

"Hi, Neville!" Corrinne's sprightly voice interrupted all their thoughts as she came skipping down the stairs. "I thought of asking you something about Herb – oh, hi." Her smile faltered a bit when she saw the other three at the couches. "Hi. How was the party?"

"Bloody brilliant," scoffed Ron. Harry looked positively miserable. Ginny was now whiter than Harry.

"What's with all your faces?" demanded Corrinne, looking surprised.

Neville related the incident with Hermione before any of them could stop him, and all three grew more frustrated and unhappy with every word he said. When he finished, Corrinne's eyes flashed angrily.

"And she told me she wasn't fraternising with him!" Her voice was cold and hard.

"It's not like Hermione wants to, she's helping Harry!" Ginny blurted out before she could help herself. Harry shot her an admonishing look, but could do nothing to correct her. Corrinne blinked in confusion. "Help Harry do what?"

"And I have something to say!" Ginny couldn't help it anymore, although she was not looking at anyone when she announced it. Harry gazed suspiciously at her, then at Corrinne, who was perplexed by all the commotion. "Erm, to all of us?"

"I might as well..." Ginny sounded extremely miserable herself. "I told Hermione about Maldash Wentervale."

"Maldash who?" Harry began, but Ron's face suddenly became pale too. "Ginny, how could you!" He croaked, and Ginny winced. Then his expression of fear turned into one of enlightenment. "Oh my goodness, so that's who Professor McGonagall was talking about!"

"I figured that out when Harry told me what Professor McGonagall said," replied Ginny, sighing, but Ron groaned and slapped his forehead. "How could I be so stupid! I even asked McGonagall who that man was! Mum always said – " He looked at a bewildered Harry. "Sorry, we're all going to explain this in a minute." Then he looked at Neville and Corrinne who looked rather horrified at the use of the name. "Mum always said Maldash Wentervale was the man You-Know-Who was tracking down, but she didn't say anything about him being a Healer, or... or whatever secrets You-Know-Who passed to him..." Ron was completely devastated at this point in time. "I must have been too sleepy!"

Harry was about to yell the common-room down, feeling the most ignorant of the lot, when Neville gently explained to him who Maldash Wentervale was and why none of them had ever mentioned it to him.

"Even if you were the 'Chosen One', we thought it best not to say it," said Neville, nervously. "It's just like how we don't say You-Know-Who's real name. But..." He glanced at a white Ginny. "Since she's told Hermione, we might as well tell you too. It could give some clues to where she is."

"What'd you tell Hermione for?" demanded Ron. "Mum will go ballistic if she knew!"

"At first I thought when Hermione asked me, she read it somewhere and it'd be best if she knew, since she's helping Harry and all that," groaned Ginny. "But then I realised that Maldash Wentervale doesn't exist in wizarding literature, and I found out from her that she overheard Snape and Malfoy talking about him in the Hospital Wing."

"She's supposed to be helping us!" Ron was outraged, but Harry put up his hand. Something was bothering him.

"And you didn't tell me because..." He eyed Ginny.

"Hermione told me not to... she said she was still building up 'rapport' with... oh galloping gargoyles, I'm just as stupid as Ron!" wailed Ginny.

"What!" Ron retorted defensively.

"That letter! That letter we thought was from Krum! It must have been Malfoy setting up a meeting with her!" Ginny covered her face with her hands. "Oh, how stupid! She said she needed to know more about him so she could slowly coax things out of him. But she must have known a lot more already!"

She turned to Harry. "And she didn't want to tell you because she knew you'd go after Wentervale now that you knew the man's identity. The man who knows Voldemort's secrets. Well – at least part of them."

"She's darn right," said Harry, seething. "But even knowing his name, how am I supposed to find him? Even when McGonagall mentioned him, I couldn't do anything, could I? He's hiding in another country!"

He was feeling torn; he shouldn't have sent Hermione to do this; now she seemed to be taking everything into her own hands!

"I don't know," muttered Ron. "But Mum said you shouldn't know about this, or you'd jump after that guy. I think McGonagall made him sound completely detached from people we know, and that it is an impossible task to find him given that he's in exile abroad. But even if no one else but the Death Eaters know him, to be part of that lot which includes Bellatrix Lestrange, Rodolphus Black and Lucius Malfoy, who are all part of the pureblood families that are so interconnected, surely he must have been related to someone within the circle of wizards we know, that's why. You'd somehow find out how to get to him."

Harry's eyes lit up.

"Why would Snape and Malfoy be talking about Wentervale?" asked Corrinne, raising her eyebrows upon hearing Ron's words. It slowly occurred to her that Hermione was getting closer to Malfoy in a way that – a spy would.

But a spy wouldn't withhold information!

"Actually..." Harry paused. "If I go by what Hermione says so far, she thinks Malfoy is genuinely seeking revenge for his father. If that's the case, if Wentervale's the man McGonagall's been talking about, then he met Lucius Malfoy before Malfoy senior was killed. He's the one Lucius Malfoy let go twice. He's the one with Voldemort's secrets. Malfoy has two reasons to go after this man. And if Hermione's actually aware of this issue, and she's with Malfoy now, I'd bet she's helping him hunt that man down."

There was a pregnant silence.

"That's just a theory," said Ginny, uncomfortably.

"That's a Death Eater she's with!" hissed Ron.

"But we can't get to her now, can we?" Neville looked helplessly at them. "Where should we start?"

Corrinne stared for a moment, before she frowned.

"Hmm, why don't you all find Professor Slughorn and ask him what he and Hermione were talking about?"

-.-.-.-.-.-

"I just don't believe that old man!" Draco was seething with rage as he and Hermione moved furtively along the passageway. "He just left the two of us to our own devices!"

"Excuse me, Mr Malfoy, but I should think your initial plan was to go alone, so why are you complaining that your entourage is now cut short by one person?" Hermione's sarcasm wasn't helping Draco's mood one bit, and he growled in response. "And stop making those infernal animal noises, I know you're a Death Eater, not a werewolf."

Draco swallowed; a cold, hard expression spread over his face.

"So – " He ventured on a different conversation track. "What exactly did you do to old Sluggy?"

There was an ensuing giggle, and Draco shot her a cold look. "What!"

"Nothing," said Hermione, grinning, as she kept her eyes trained ahead. "Sluggy's a good name, considering the way he slugged down the Firewhisky. I said I heard he was a good drinker and wanted to challenge him, and he couldn't lose his face to a Muggleborn witch in her sixth year, so he gave it a go. It appears that his ego is bigger than his capacity, which I figured anyway. Oh, and thanks for the Disillusionment Charm," she mused, and Draco found himself rather infuriated with her smiling.

"Where's the Cloak by the way?" She suddenly realised, and stopped in her tracks, staring at Draco.

Draco nearly bumped into her with her sudden halt, and glared at her. "Well, your darling Potter nicked it off me, as you saw just now!"

Hermione's eyes widened with shock. "You what? I thought you were just being incredibly haughty and whipped it off to have a go at Ron!"

"Have a go at Weasley?" Draco snorted. "Are you raving mad? That weasel practically strangled me!"

Hermione could hardly breathe. This meant that Harry would soon suspect her.

"Potter's bound to find out you and I are out on this excursion." Draco narrowed his eyes. "And what are you going to tell him?"

Maybe... that would work out too. Now that we're out finding Wentervale, Harry can't do anything to get here. I don't think Dumbledore will risk bringing him here as well.

"He can't come along anyway," said Hermione, coldly. "So there's nothing to tell."

Breathing again, she ventured ahead. Draco stared after her, then glowered and followed. He didn't know whether to believe her. He still couldn't believe the fact that she was here helping him as if he was her friend. Her friend! Draco nearly scoffed at the idea. He and a Mudblood as friends?

He felt too uncomfortable to feel true anger about that.

"That's about all there is to Slughorn," came her voice from in front.

"So – he just gave you the memory like that? What the – " Draco's incredulous voice faded away as they came to a stop. The passageway had opened up to a huge, dark area – or rather, it stopped before a gaping chasm.

Draco leaned over and stared into the emptiness below. "Okay, this is great, both of us can't Apparate anyway so we can't test if there are anti-Apparition wards or something."

"But it's a faster escape route than if he tried to run up that staircase we came down from," pointed out Hermione. "Since this platform is a lot nearer than the staircase one is. He needs to escape fast every time before Voldemort finds him." She looked up and down the darkness, pulled out her wand and whispered "Lumos!", but the light was not very helpful in negotiating what seemed to be never-ending cave walls.

"This makes no sense," said Hermione, frowning. "Nobody would create a passageway like that and lead it to a chasm. If the anti-Apparition wards end just nicely here, it just means Voldemort should have considered that Wentervale escapes through here! Why doesn't he pursue him then?"

"Which means this must be a very risky escape route, risky but easy to get to." Draco scanned the chasm. "The Dark Lord does not waste his time on people who will get themselves killed sooner or later." His eyes widened. "The Inferi were advancing from the area where we came from; their advances would push whoever was in the centre of the waters towards this area!"

"That explains it," whispered Hermione, as she squatted down on the hard floor, leaning over to look down. "It's supposed to be a dead end. But if Wentervale can escape, then it's quite likely that whatever escape route there is, it must be down – AHHHHH!"

Draco's eyes swivelled down in horror to see Hermione overbalance, and before he could reach out to grab her, she had fallen off, screaming – only to scrabble hard, and there she was, hanging at the ledge with one hand that had frantically grabbed hold of the edge.

"DRACO!" Hermione shrieked.

"GRANGER!" Draco gasped and immediately fell flat on his stomach, grabbing onto her wrist and trying his best to pull. But the ledge was flat – it was hardly sustaining Hermione's grip. Two seconds of struggling, and suddenly Hermione's hand had scrambled off the ledge. The force that was somehow tugging at her had pulled Draco along as well; he was jerked off the floor, and before he knew it, both of them were tumbling down into the darkness.

There was a horrible lurching in his body as they hurtled downwards – Draco thought it was the end, even as he tried to reach into his robes for his wand, but they were going far too fast for him to be able to do it... he couldn't even see where Hermione Granger was... the force had pulled their hands apart... his father's pleas running through his mind again... terror flitted across Draco's face... he had failed...

Suddenly there was a burst of strong light and heat, and a huge roar that emitted a gust of wind so strong that instead of hurtling downwards, they were both suddenly uplifted a little by that draft. Hermione gasped, and tried to scramble in air, but it only made her turn awkwardly and she felt that she was falling once again, into the abyss – her mind was no longer on Wentervale and the Inferi – all she could think of was Harry and Ron, the Burrow, her parents, even –

"IT'S A BLOODY DRAGON!" Draco's roar of horror jerked her into looking downwards, only to meet a pair of blood-red eyes, so menacing and deadly that she couldn't help shrieking again. They had stopped falling, only to be quickly uplifted, and then falling back down again before the draft sent them flying. The constant up-and-down movement was making her giddy – she wasn't sure whether it was relief that she wasn't dead yet, or terror that something worse than death by a fall seemed to await her. The falling down was now a lot slower, considering there seemed to be an invisible force of air still preventing them from hurtling down the way they did earlier on.

Quickly, Hermione's hand dived into her robes to pull out her wand.

"AGUAMENTI!" she screamed, and a strong jet of water sprayed out, knocking the dragon in his eye. She couldn't stop shrieking now that there was no draft of air; she was falling while the dragon roared in pain; the decibels of its roar was completely deafening her.

Draco pulled out his wand with much difficulty as their fall was broken once again by the steam rising from the dragon's nostrils. Suddenly, huge jaws appeared out of nowhere, scalding and scraping the skins of both of them. Hermione screamed again and shot jets of light and water continuously, her mind frantically zooming through all the spells and hexes and jinxes that Harry had taught them at the DA classes. Draco's wand was active now too, but the dragon's face was now clear to Hermione with every light she shot out; it was dark and scaly, so ugly that it was petrifying and nauseating. Its bloodshot eyes narrowed and another gust of flame and wind shot out from below.

Hermione could barely breathe, having to dodge the flame balls and steam, waving her wand about wildly whilst being suspended in mid-air like a ragdoll, hauled up and down occasionally with the dragon breaths. Its claw swiped out, and she screamed as the sharp talon ran itself past her leg. Another swipe, and she heard Draco howl with rage, her heart running cold. It wouldn't take long before the dragon made paper balls out of them. She flicked her wand again, but another swipe, and she was sent hurtling into the wall with a crash. There was a sickening crack, and a blinding jolt of pain rushing through her entire body as she gripped onto the rocks by the side, breaking her fall. There were stars before her eyes...

She could feel blood trickle down her face as the roars and sound of wand spells and grunts started to meld into one, single cacophonic buzz in her ears; she could barely make out something that looked like a jumping cricket in the mist with bursts of lights against something gigantic; her eyes felt sticky and gooey and the pain was gone – there was just plain numbness.

And all she could see before her was a blur of red light emitting from the middle; another crash by her side, the pain shooting up her spine again, and suddenly there was no more support behind her or for her to hold onto; she was spiralling downwards, downwards, downwards...

And then all was black.