With Darkness There'll Be Light

Seventeen - Void Of All Discretion

"You want to know who I am and what I've done with Hermione," she repeated blandly, leaning casually against the wall opposite them. Harry stared at her, still trying to comprehend what was happening.

Draco raised an eyebrow smugly, "Yes. I'd like to know. If you'd be so kind as to explain."

Hermione chuckled angelically, "Don't I look like Hermione? What makes you think I'm not her---I mean, me?"

Draco, noticing the throbbing pain in his mended leg, limped over to the small table and sat down on a rusty, badly made chair. "Well, for one, the Hermione I knew wouldn't have just up and joined the Death Eaters."

"What makes you so sure of that?" She asked derisively. "People change. You did."

Harry numbly took the seat beside Draco, his eyes trained on Hermione in horror. He seemed quite at a loss for words, not to mention thoughts.

"I changed," he agreed, inclining his head slightly, "But this is different. This is Hermione we're talking about here. Best friend to Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived. She helped defeat Voldemort, what is it…seven or eight times? She's the smartest witch I've ever known, and the bravest. She's a Gryffindor. A Gryffindor Muggleborn. She's not high on the list of 'Those Who Might Cross Over To The Dark Side' in case you hadn't noticed."

"I had, actually," she replied coldly, "But I chose to ignore that slim fact. If YOU will notice, there was a very poor supply of ample bodies to befall."

Draco's eyes grew wide, "So you admit it, then."

"I admit nothing," she replied airily, "Other than the fact that, no, I am not Hermione Granger."

Harry cleared his throat, his voice came out croaked and shrill at the same time, "Then who the bloody hell are you and what have you done with her!"

Hermione placed her palms on the table in front of her so her face was mere inches from Draco's. Her loose clothing bagged around her like excess skin. When she talked, her voice was like the low snarl of a rabid dog, "I have simply tossed her aside…and buried her."

*

Panting and on the verge of collapse, the Fellowship got to Sirius' cave and hollered as loudly as their tired voices could muster.

Seamus sank to the ground, his legs giving way on him and closed his watering eyes. Fred set Justin carefully down beside Seamus, and George gently lowered Ginny's slumbering form to the ground while Ron beat his fists against the stone door.

"SIRIUS!" Ron hollered, "SIRIUS!" He hit the stone a few more times, but the only noise it made were low thumps that not even Seamus could hear being a foot away. The sky was quickly darkening and the moon refused to shine. Stars littered the sky, but cast no light…and the entire fellowship felt warn out and ready to die.

Ron leaned against the door, tears springing from his eyes and cascading down his gray face. No one saw due to their suddenly poor night vision. "Where the hell is he!?"

George coughed fitfully, "Maybe he went back to the Ministry. Maybe they sent him home."

"Well, where's the backup we ordered hours ago!? If we hadn't Apparated from the desert to here, we'd be dead by now."

It was true; on Fred's command the group had Apparated once they were out of view of the secret hideout and well into the forest.


"I don't know what's going on, but something is not right," Fred observed, glancing at Ginny who wasn't moving. "And she needs medical care. She's so weak."

"Justin needs something too," Seamus piped up, casting a sordid look at his fallen friend, "We can't just let him go on living like that. I mean, he's…he's…"

"He's a soulless life form and that is no way to live," Ron said, nodding, "But there's nothing we, the four of us, can do. We have to wait. Ginny's in more danger at the moment. I think they put some sort of spell on her."

"What sort of spell?" George asked, falling to the ground in a heap of tired limbs.

"I don't know," replied Ron aggravated, "But Hermione would know…if she were here." He sniffed, "I hope they're okay."

"They're fine," Fred assured him, "They have to be. Those three are the strongest wizards and witch I know…they can take care of themselves."

"Yeah," Ron granted, "But can they take care of each other?"

*

"If you buried her," said Draco doubtfully, "Then how is she standing right here, right now?" He turned to Harry, "Is it Polyjuice Potion? I know you know all about that one."

"This is no time for below-the-belt obscure insults, Draco," he replied sternly, "But, yes. I know about it. And, yeah, that's the only thing it could possibly be if her body is buried." He looked up at Hermione, and remarked dryly, "So she's dead then."

Hermione chuckled softly and pulled the remaining chair away from the table. She spun it around in her pale hand and straddled it. "No, she's not dead," she said lightly. Her voice hardened and she looked directly into Draco's gray eyes, "Also, no, it is not Polyjuice Potion."

Draco sighed very heavily, "Alright, listen. You either start giving me non-ominous answers or I'll beat the crap out of you."

"You're not going to beat the crap out of the only girl you've ever loved," Hermione said knowingly.

"But you're not HER!" He yelled, "So I wouldn't be beating up the only girl I've ever loved…" He seemed to realize what he'd said and abruptly stopped; he opened his mouth and closed it in a gaping matter that made him look like an overgrown trout with blond hair. He cleared his throat and stared daggers at the girl in front of him, "Tell me what you want."

Hermione's lips curled into a very odd smile that didn't reach her sunken-in eyes, "Just something simple really."

"Simple to you might mean very, insanely complex to us," Harry muttered. "But I'm not doing anything for you, whoever the hell you are, without knowing what's happened to Hermione first."

Hermione flipped her hair over her shoulders and rolled her eyes dramatically, "Good Lord, Potter. Alright, fine. Hermione---" she put heavy emphasis on the name as if it were a very crude swear, "---is perfectly fine. Her soul is here, within me. I am just overpowering her." She shrugged her shoulders elegantly, "That is all."

Draco shook his head, "There's something missing here."

Harry glanced at him out of the corner of his eye and saw that Draco looked livid with rage and absolutely terrified with fear. "What's missing is that we don't know who is in Hermione's body with her. She's obviously been overtaken…it's sort of like a Muggle film I watched once. The Exorcist. Hermione is possessed…by someone evil…" He trailed off and his green eyes locked onto Hermione, a quizzical expression covering his weary face. "But I don't know who it could possibly be."

"I should think," drawled Hermione, sounding much like the Draco of old; her eyes were pinned on Harry in a domineering manner, "That would be the effortless part."

"Why would you think that?" Draco challenged, nearly standing up but thinking better of it. He needed to conserve his energy and stall this little blood fest as long as possible.

"Oh come on," she replied ardently, "Neither of you is stupid, I know that much. Not that I want to compliment you…that is very low on my 'To Do' list, but honestly…you must have some of the brains you get credited for?"

Draco glanced at Harry who looked blankly back, "Well, I can safely say that I don't have the brains I've been credited with. Harry? What about you?"

Harry blinked and then stuttered, "I---ah----I----No, I should think I get credited far more than deserved."

Hermione laughed blandly and ran a long finger slowly down Draco's jaw and then throat in a seductive manner, "It's interesting how you are so lusted after…when it seems you have no more brains than a common Muggle."

Draco mocked being offended, "I'll have you know, Miss Evil Pants, that some Muggles are quite smart."

"Yes," agreed Harry eagerly, nodding his head a lot more than needed, "Some Muggles really are intelligent. Considering…you know, their dismissal of all things magical."

Hermione withdrew her finger from Draco's lower throat and sat back in her chair leisurely. She laughed scathingly, "I highly doubt that simple Muggles are any smarter than a tool belt. However, isn't the Mudblood supposed to be the smartest witch of the age?"

Harry put a hand up as if he were in class, "By 'mudblood' do you mean Hermione?"

Hermione blinked her long eyelashes at Harry, and said coyly, "Yes."

"She is one of the smartest witches I know," said Draco, "and that's saying something bearing in mind that I know quite a few."

"Don't bother hiding your high opinion of yourself," Harry remarked dryly. Hermione laughed coldly and loudly, making Harry jump slightly.

"I bet Hermione even knows how to get possession of her body back," Draco said slyly.

"I'm sure she must," said Hermione vaguely, waving her hand around a little as if she didn't care.

Harry sat up eagerly, "Maybe she even knows how to revive someone who's been given the Dementor's Kiss."

Draco raised his eyebrows, "There is no reviving for such an act." He looked at Hermione, "If there is, it's Dark magic at its darkest. So this person…whoever he or she is…must know the spell."

"Indeed," she inclined her head in a modest gesture, "But it's not likely I'll share the complicated origins of it with you."

"There must be a book on it," stated Draco evenly.

Hermione shrugged her bony shoulders once more, "Perhaps." She looked around the room gracefully, and then let her eyes fall on Draco, "Well, I'm getting tired of this little game. Perhaps we should get on with it?"

Draco shrugged noncommittally, "Get on with what, exactly?"

She smiled at him and he cringed, something he never thought possible. "Get on with the murders."

------

A/N: So, there is perhaps a reviving spell for the Dementor's Kiss. Of course, there isn't in the HP books that we know of…so it's something I've made up. I'm not saying that they're going to find it either, so don't think that. Next chapter brings the unveiling of who is actually possessing Hermione's body…we find out where Hermione's soul is being hidden AND, on top of that, Ginny is diagnosed. (Probably)