Bring Me Back To The Light
A/N: I'd like to thank my first two reviewers, silvermist and super_sweet_girl15. You guys rock! ^_^ Here is the second chapter...
RIQ:
"To stir is human; to stay in bed, divine."
Joe Greene, The National Enquirer
:Chapter Two:
Hermione Granger took a step back from the two men who had been following her ever since she left Madame Zelda's Robe Shop and now cornered her in front of Borgin and Burkes. Reaching into her pocket, her fingers closed around her wand and she was able to draw some comfort from it.
"What do you want from me?" she demanded, lifting her chin. It was a miracle her voice remained steady--- inside she was shaking.
"I think you know that already, girl," sneered one of the men, a short, pudgy, baldheaded wizard, looking at her body like he was surveying a delicious piece of fruit. Hermione had the sudden urge to cover herself up even more, although she was already dressed in heavy gray robes and a maroon cloak. She glanced around, searching for help from the other people in Knockturn Alley. But few seemed to notice her plight, and those who did looked away as quickly as possible.
"Won't nobody help you out, girlie," said the other man, taller and leaner than his companion, leering. "Won't nobody here help a white witch and a Mudblood."
She knew it was true, but she was careful not to let them see her panic. "And what makes you think I'm one?"
The pudgy man cackled. "Jervis and I can smell 'em a mile away, can't we, Jerv?"
"You betcha, Freddy boy." Jervis' dark eyes sparkled wickedly as he stared at Hermione. "Don't you try a-screamin' because, like I said, won't no Dark wizard in their right mind would rescue you. Raping Muggle-borns and white witches ain't against the law."
Some of Hermione's panic transformed into rage at that statement, yet another brutal reminder of Voldemort's supremacy. "What law are you talking about, you lecher?" she yelled. "You bloody Dark wizards wouldn't know the meaning of the word law if it kicked you right in your fat arses!"
The two men looked furious. Freddy grabbed her arm in a vise-like grip and pulled her closer to him until she could smell the alcohol in his breath. "You have to be less impertinent when talking to your superiors, Mudblood," he growled. "How would you like it if Jervis and I taught you a little lesson in respect?"
Hermione was about to pull out her wand and show the two rotten scumbags just how impertinent she could get when a calm, controlled voice said, "Let her go."
The three of them stared at the hooded figure, dressed all in black, that had appeared out of nowhere. Hermione squinted, but all she could see of him was the end of his nose, a pair of fine-edged lips, and a pale, slightly pointed chin. She frowned slightly. Where had she seen those features before?
"Hah!" Jervis scoffed. "Another white wizard! Place is full of 'em today, isn't it, Freddy?"
Freddy grinned, fondly caressing his wand. "If you know what's good for you, lad, you'd stay out of this… but then again, since when did any of the Light side know what was good for them?"
The stranger's lips curved upwards into a smirk that startled Hermione with its familiarity. Dear God, it couldn't be…
"You're mistaken, my friends. I am not from the Light side." In one fluid motion, the stranger pulled back the sleeve of his midnight black robes. Glowing an angry red on the pale smooth skin of his forearm was an image of a skull, with a snake protruding from its mouth… the Dark Mark. "Quite the opposite, in fact." he added, apparently enjoying the wide-eyed looks of shock fixed on the livid red tattoo.
Freddy and Jervis wrenched their gaze back to him, their faces completely devoid of color and full of fear. "Master, we're so sorry," Freddy slurred. "We didn't--- we never--- please forgive us---"
"We didn't mean to insult you none," Jervis interjected. "Please, don't hurt us."
"Get out of my sight," growled the Death Eater threateningly. The two men were glad to oblige, and stumbled all over themselves as they backed away and ran down the street, knocking people aside.
Hermione's heart was slamming against her ribcage at an abnormally fast speed. One of Voldemort's servants had just saved her from getting raped. If she hadn't been a sensible witch, she would have convinced herself that she was trapped inside a sick and twisted dream.
The Death Eater turned to her and, with a slender white hand, removed his cloak. Hermione's breath caught in her throat as she found herself gazing into a pair of dusky gray eyes she remembered all too well, eyes that were forever burned into her memory, her mind, her soul, her heart. "Draco---"
"Stupefy!"