House: Slytherin

Category: short

Prompt: [Character] Igor Karkaroff

Word count: 1093

A/N. Obviously AU, and thanks to Kris for inspiring this fic all the way back in year One.

oO0Oo

"My Lord?" Now that the room was empty save for himself and the Dark Lord, Lucius spoke. "Is it wise, sending Karkaroff back to kill the mudblood? I do not question your wisdom, for without Granger, Potter would be nothing, but time is not kind to those who travel back even a two hours. To send Karkaroff back ten years..."

The Dark Lord laughed, cold and cruel. "Karkaroff is useless. If he succeeds, then we celebrate. If he dies, then we do not mourn his death. Do you understand, Lucius?"

Lucius swallowed hard. "I do," he replied. "May I leave to prepare for my meeting with the Minister?"

"You may." Lucius could feel his Lord's eyes following him out of the room, and he held back a shudder. The Dark Lord had disposed of Karkaroff so carelessly — he would send the man back ten years in a vain attempt to kill a schoolgirl. It did not matter to the monster sitting in his study that Karkaroff would in all likelihood be ripped limb from limb by the powerful currents of time. It didn't matter at all.

He wished Karkaroff the best of luck: a swift, painless death. However, he doubted Karkaroff would receive one.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Hermione sat bolt upright on her bed. "Dad?" she called, her voice high and quavering. She had felt something go thump under her bed. She knew something was under her bed that didn't belong there. "Daddy? There's a monster under my bed, Daddy!"

She could hear her father's footsteps in the hallway. "Hermione, there's no such thing as monsters," he said as he came into her room and turned on the light. In the light, her room looked as it always did, and Hermione began to feel a little sheepish.

"I know, I'm eight years old and monsters don't exist," she huffed. "But dad, could you look anyways?"

"Fine." He bent down and peered under her bed. When he straightened back up, he gave Hermione a small half-smile. "There's nothing there, honey."

"But I heard a thump!" she protested.

"It was probably just your imagination," he said. "Try to get some sleep, okay?" After pressing a kiss to her forehead, he left her room, shutting the door quietly behind him.

Hermione stayed sitting upright in bed long after he'd left, unwilling to lie down and drift back to sleep. Something… something was under her bed. She could feel it. The tree outside of her bedroom rustled, and the curtains shifted a little, letting the light of the full moon shine into the room and cast the shadowy pattern of leaves onto the wall. She sat there, her senses on high alert, the blankets pulled up to her chin. Slowly, slowly, when the numbers on her alarm clock had moved from 11:30 to 11:42, she finally relaxed and lay back down.

Then she heard a moan.

It was low, gutteral, and it was coming from right under her.

"Dad!" she shrieked. "Daddy!"

"What is it, honey?" her father burst into her room, throwing on the lights and making Hermione shield her eyes.

"There's— there's something under my bed! I heard it!"

In a flash, his panic vanished. "It's okay," he murmured, running a hand over her curls and holding her close to him. "There's no such thing as monsters, Hermione."

"But— but could you check anyways?"

He sighed. "I can." He knelt down and peered under her bed, but he did not suddenly scream or shout or even flinch — when he stood back up, he only said, "There's nothing there, Hermione."

Hermione swallowed hard. "Can— can you leave the lights on?" she asked.

"Of course."

After he'd left, Hermione sat there on her bed, trying to work up the courage for what she was going to do next. Monsters don't exist, monsters don't exist, she repeated to herself. Yet she knew that unless she looked under her bed herself, she wouldn't be able to sleep tonight.

Finally, when her alarm clock read 1:03, Hermione slid out of bed. Her bare feet touched the ground, and she thought she heard a muffled giggle, but she ignored it. Monsters don't exist. She crouched down, taking the edge of her comforter in her hands. Monsters don't exist. In one quick movement, she threw back her blanket, revealing what lay beneath her bed.

It should have been empty. There shouldn't have been anything under her bed. But— there was.

Underneath her bed lay the mangled corpse of a man. His eyes were deep, black, bottomless pits that burned with an unholy light. His limbs were a pallid hue but his stomach was a deep, vibrant red. The man — the monster — the man under her bed was dying.

Hermione dropped the blanket in shock and hurriedly scooted a way, uncertain what to do — and then she heard the barest of whispers, "Come here, child."

She didn't know why she did it. Maybe it was that she knew he was dying and didn't want to deny a dying man his final wishes, but she slowly lifted the blanket again to let the light fall on his ravaged face. He had silver-streaked hair, and his face was lined with wrinkles, but the darkness still burned in his eyes.

"Yes?"

He coughed, the sound coming from deep within him and Hermione thought she heard the slosh of liquid in his lungs. "You— you will do great things," he whispered. "I was sent to kill you, but… when you see me again, do not think too badly of me."

"What do you mean?" Hermione said.

"You're a witch." Blood dribbled out of the corner of his mouth as he spoke, and from the way he grimaced he, too, knew his time was drawing near. "Remember me, Hermione Granger. Remember Igor Karkaroff dying under your bed for a man he barely believed in and—" he took a shallow, gasping breath, "stay away from the Dark."

Then the light dimmed in his eyes, and strangely enough, his body began to shimmer and disappear. When Hermione reached out to touch where he used to be, her fingers met nothing.

He was gone. But Hermione knew she would remember Igor Karkaroff dying under her bed for the rest of her life. When she couldn't sleep at night, she would think of his black eyes and the horribly bright red blood staining his midriff, and how his last, gasping breath had sounded. The monster under her bed had physically disappeared, but Hermione knew an even uglier one had appeared in its place — and this time, there was no getting rid of it.