CW: Violence
I was fifteen years old when the matron saw it fit to inform me of my mothers' tragic demise. How she stumbled up the staircase of Wools orphanage on Christmas eve, so heavily with child she could barely walk. The way her pale body bore testament to a hard life and how she murmured that I was to be named after my father, before her eyes glazed over with lifelessness.
My elation at this news outweighed the bubbling disgust at my mothers' pathetic circumstance. She was obviously filth. No powerful family would allow their women to wander about the way she did. But it mattered not. I had my father and I had no doubt that he was a noble pureblooded man. After all I am his son, the most powerful wizard to have walked the halls of this castle since the founders. It had to be.
Its amazing when in dire, sometimes even life-threatening situations, what strange thoughts spring out of nowhere. In Hermione's case, it was how peri winkle blue was such a damn awful color.
There crouched behind a tree, listening intently for any potential murderers, she wondered what on earth she was thinking, wearing that gown to the Yule ball all those years ago.
A twig snapping shattered her internal reminiscing. Sweat trickled down her temple as intent eyes swept the area like a predator poised for attack.
"Stupefy." she uttered, smirking in triumph when her pursuer slumped to the ground.
She rolled her eyes and levitated the death eater out of sight. Amateur.
The forest was deathly silent as Hermione sneaked back to her hiding spot.
What now? Surely, I can't hide forever.
She wracked her brains for something, anything to get herself back to Ginny and out of danger but came up short. For once in her life, Hermione Granger was out of solutions. She felt trapped in her own skin, her mind spinning out of control with anxiety. The sound of her heart beating rung in her ears and she wished for nothing more than to escape within her mind. Like how she used to when Harry and Ron argued about something petty while she revised.
She could picture it playing out in her head.
"Knight to E four." Harry would exclaim triumphantly, leaning back like a king on his throne.
Ron would merely shoot his friend a goofy smile and smugly summon his queen.
"Queen to G five."
She'd sigh in exasperation as Harry accuses Ron of pulling a fast one, then proceed to tune them out as the gangly ginger starts ranting about the Blackburne Shilling Trap or something.
Hermione's eyes widened. If the situation weren't so critical, she would've charmed a lightbulb over her head.
The Blackburne Shilling Trap! Black violates all the basic opening principles in order catch White off guard. Draw out the enemy with an apparent mistake then attack.
Slowly a plan began forming in her mind. It was amazing when in dire circumstances what strange thoughts spring out of nowhere.
She waved her wand over the length of her body, "Cogitatio."
A translucent blob of energy began to emerge from her aura, strongly resembling an amoeba floating in midair. Slowly it began to take form and Hermione stared into her very own eyes.
As the reflection made a mad dash into the thicket of trees, she was briefly taken aback at how haggard she looked. It was as she was staring at an alternate self. Someone from a universe doomed to a life of suffering. The sight evoked a newfound feeling of sad desperation. This was her reality, but she would be damned if this was the rest of her life.
Hermione gripped her wand with determination, "Lux abscondita."
The fluorescent white light that shot out was instantly absorbed by the ground. Its electric current cackled as it moved underneath, waiting for anything to latch on to.
Without missing a beat, Hermione fled in the direction of her hidden friend. Her pace quickening as the screams of her pursuers echoed through the forest.
She looked up at the sky to see pink and orange rays peak from behind the clouds. A mistake that would cost her dearly.
Hermione skidded to a halt as two figures emerged from the trees. She tried to dart away before they proceeded any further, but she'd already been spotted. Her heart jumped to her throat when she realized they weren't coming forward at all.
They were waiting for her.
With a vicious hiss she broke into a sprint, firing her most powerful stunning spell, almost losing her footing as the figure on the right erected a shield just as potent.
Hermione was forced to a stop by complete astonishment.
Her hands began to tremble, and a shiver ran down her spine.
"What's the matter Miss Granger," the figure inclined his head toward her in greeting "has all that zeal evaporated from your tiny body?"
Hermione was too frozen with fear at the sight before her to be furious at his mocking tone.
"It would seem our darling little poppet is at a loss for words." he turned his head to address the unconscious figure he was holding up.
Malfoy!
It took Hermione all her will power not to fall on her knees in defeat.
Who else could it be? Absolutely no one can pull off being so refined while being that unhinged.
Lucius Malfoy had her in his sight and Ginny Weasley in his grasp.
She was still reeling with shock when an especially dark slicing hex whirred trough the air. Hermione didn't even see it let alone have time to get out of the way.
She threw her arms upwards at the last moment, her mouth formed into the shape of an O as the hex slashed her like a hot knife trough butter.
Malfoy appraised his handiwork, addressing the still unconscious Weasley "Isn't that gorgeous?"
Blood spilled in rivulets from Hermione's arms. Muscle and bone peeked through her wounds, but she dared not heal it. Magical healing would only aggravate injuries caused by dark magic.
She staggered to her feet, her screams carried by the morning breeze, against a backdrop of crows screeching to the heavens. Her breath came out in pants, condensating in the air. Four more masked men surrounded her. She was out matched five to one and was terrified to the core of her being. Trembling, she fought the spell of dizziness that imbued her, planting her feet firmly to the ground.
Swallowing her fear, she looked her adversary dead in the eye, conjured a set of bandages over her wounds and inclining her head in a greeting of her own, fell into a dueling stance.
"I liked you better when your filthy blood was spilling on to the floor." Malfoy snarled and flung Ginny to his feet.
With that, Hermione was bombarded by curses and hexes from all sides.
She leaned on one knee and brought her wand down in a zig zag motion "Clypeus furorem."
A luminous dome of protection covered her. The shield, specifically designed to thwart dark magic, turned murkier with each spell it absorbed.
Hermione grit her teeth with the effort it took to hold them off. She growled with frustration when an electric purple curse shattered her defense on the left perimeter. The shield took on a pitch-black hue and no matter how much magic she fed into it; the cracks just kept on coming.
Hermione glanced around in earnest searching for any blind spots. Upon finding none she decided there was no choice but to risk it.
Dropping her shield, she rolled out of the firing line, laying flat on her back. Without sparing no moment she aimed at the sky.
"Ghadab Alaliha."
Grey smoke veiled itself over the fusion of a bleeding dawn. The sky seemed to shake itself in a frenzy as the temperature rose exponentially, melting snow around them. A shrill screech was the only warning they got before molten rock the size of cauldrons rained upon them.
The curse had dark elements to it but right now Hermione couldn't bring herself to care. These were special circumstances.
Shouts of retreating men could be heard over the ruckus. One unlucky death eater had a leg crushed and she took this as her que to get the hell out of there.
Hermione was on her feet in seconds and sprinting toward Ginny who was sprawled crudely at the foot of a tree.
She could almost taste the sweet sense of relief when an excruciating sensation of being doused in acid blanketed her. Bumps began to form on her skin, tearing open at even the slightest intake of breath. Hermione was on the ground howling in blinding agony. She shot out a weak stunning spell with no apparent target out of desperation, sobbing like a baby.
The last thing she saw before losing consciousness was a pair of extravagant dragon hide boots.
Hermione was brought to by a torrent of freezing water. She gasped at the initial shock of being awakened in such a manner. Her surprise was quickly turned into a dizzying spell of utter pain as the dry bubble-like bumps on her skin opened up once more. She wailed and sobbed pitifully, her tears aggravating her facial wounds.
"The mud blood is awake."
Hermione recognized her captor trough blurry eyes by the striking resemblance to his son, her classmate.
Nott senior was a tall, slender man who carried himself like any other pureblooded male. Unlike Malfoy, he had a quite unsettling presence. You could feel his eyes on you long after he left the room.
"What do we do about the other one?"
"Throw her into a cell," Lucius sniffed "she might be a traitor, but she still is of noble blood. Besides the mud blood has the information we need."
Nott senior turned to one of the lower ranking officers and smirked "Treat her well. She would breed wonderful pureblood offspring."
Hermione could barely register what was going on through the agony. All she heard was a muffle of something being dragged and a door slamming shut. Not long after, she was hoisted and magically bound to a plush chair.
"Tell me mud blood," Lucius circled her like a vulture "what on earth was so important that you found yourself wandering about so far from home?"
His words were deliberate and intended for psychological warfare. Hermione had no home and he knew that very well.
Hermione tried to compose herself. She knew, in theory, how to handle an interrogation. Give them what they want. Be vague and carefully choose your words. That all sounded good on paper but right now, as anguish plowed through her, it all sounded much easier said than done.
"Hmm, she doesn't speak." his countenance was blasé, but his eyes glittered with madness.
With a lazy flick of his wand, Hermione felt like every pore in her body were being penetrated by tiny needles.
She let out a shriek that would make one's blood chill. By reflex, her body squirmed and flailed. She eventually fell over with the chair, her magical bonds limiting any movements.
Malfoy lifted his spell, giving Hermione a chance to breathe.
"How did you possess the sword of Gryffindor."
He didn't wait for her to answer "Crucio."
She opened her mouth to scream but no sound left her lips. Her face took on purple hue as she asphyxiated, her body spasming uncontrollably.
Is this it? Is this how it really ends?
Blood pored freely from her mouth and black spots dotted her vision. She has reached her end.
"Dear Hermione," Malfoy tutted "Why do you resist? You have nothing left. Tell me all that I need to know, and I give you my word, your death would be swift."
Out of nowhere the doors burst open like thunder.
Severus Snape marched in, his robes flowing behind him. Malfoy was not pleased with this intrusion at all.
The feeling of exploding from within dissipated and she laid there in limbo. Colors and sounds seemed to merge in a haze as she vaguely heard them speak. She latched onto the professor's deep baritone voice, allowing herself to sink within the very depths of her mind. She was in class, stirring her potion in a deep trance. Nothing else existed.
"Don't you worry mud blood. The moment our Lord is done with you, we will pick up right where we left off."
She barely felt Malfoys fist meet her face before the sweet relief of nothingness enveloped her.