FANTASY. WRITTEN BY GIRL-WHO-IS-BIG-FAT-AND-HAIRY! HA! JUST KIDDING.
Disclaimer: Nothing that appears in this piece of fanfiction (apart from a few characters that you have not read about anywhere else) is mine. Do NOT sue. Thank you.
Chapter Sixteen: The Black Hole.
Without another word, Lisa, Billy, Hermione and Draco followed Dumbledore along the corridors of Hogwarts. It was not long before they arrived outside a door that Hermione had never seemed to notice before. It was old and grey – which blended perfectly into the hard-stone wall. Dumbledore opened it to reveal a staircase that spiralled upwards.
"Now, I'm afraid you shall have to stay here until it is time," said Dumbledore, "Once you ascend these stairs, you shall enter a room where there shall be food, water and enough little comforts to last you a while. Please do not try and make contact with anyone. It is for your own safety."
Dumbledore waited until Hermione and Draco had both nodded and shown that they understood his orders and would not disobey. They quickly said goodbye to Lisa and Billy before climbing up the steps, closing the door behind them. Once closed, the door seemed to simply melt into the wall, as though no longer there. As Dumbledore had said, when they reached the top they found themselves in a medium-sized room.
On a table by a small window, Hermione saw a clay teapot, steam rising from its spout. She saw two teacups beside it and a tray of assorted cakes and biscuits – all muggle brands that Hermione recognised from home. Another table, which had been placed beside two beds (both beds a mixture of scarlet and emerald), was filled with books and parchment and quills, as well as an old dusty oil lamp. Hermione was delighted to see that among the parchment and quills was also the homework that she had yet to finish.
The pair sat in silence, as once again, Hermione found her eyes wandering to Draco. She was starting to believe that she saw in him (perhaps) something that he didn't even see himself – or maybe it was simply her imagination. She knew that she had spent many a night pondering over him and her reasons for admiring him so, and she had found no explanation. But that was it. Deep inside, she knew that she did not need an explanation to like (or to love) someone. She did not need reasons, for loving someone meant loving them, for the better, or for the worse.
The feeling she felt was rather like marmite. You either loved it, or hated it.
"Granger!" Draco suddenly shouted, pulling Hermione towards the window. "Look at that!"
Hermione looked. It was not until then that she realised how very high up they were. Far down below her, she saw Madeleine, standing by the lake, fiddling with her hair while Ginny and Luna stood by her side. Ben, meanwhile, was also standing by the lake, and although Hermione was too far up to see the expression on his face, she knew it would not be a pleasant one. She could see Madeleine moving forward, as though about to grab him, but Ben was backing away, shouting words at her that Hermione could somewhat hear. But then, as she thought Madeleine was about to make a grab for him, Ben jumped into the lake and bubbles began to form on the surface.
As the gasp escaped Hermione's lips, she saw Snape, McGonagall, and Professor Hoover rush out from behind the bushes and immediately use their magic to rescue the Hufflepuff boy. Ben's body rose from the lake, horribly wet and soaked to the skin.
"You don't have any feelings towards him at all, do you?"
It was a while, before Hermione realised that she was being spoken to. Slowly, she turned and found Draco seated behind her on one of the two beds in the room. She was not sure if she was able to speak.
"You know," began Draco, noticing that Hermione seemed speechless, "Most girls would probably faint if they saw their own boyfriend jump into that lake. But not you, Granger, you're much too strange."
Hermione struggled for a moment to think of a witty and intelligent comeback. "Yes - well – I – he was under the Imperius curse!"
Draco smirked. "But you didn't know that until today. Surely there would still have been some reaction, had you really felt something for him. Come to think of it, you weren't even that shocked when you found out he was under the Imperius."
"Well –
"Well nothing, Granger! It's clear to everyone that you haven't ever felt anything for the boy! I don't know why you didn't refuse his offer - you can't be that desperate! We're not small children anymore, we shouldn't simply say yes for the sake of it!"
"I don't see why you care so much, Malfoy!" said Hermione angrily, "It's my decision and if that's what I decided then that's that! I admit it was foolish of me, stupid, if you must, but it was a mistake. You can't exactly talk, look at you and Madeleine Chang!"
The room fell silent once more. It was a while before Draco spoke.
"I don't care." He muttered, failing to sound casual. It was a downright lie and that secretly brought a smile to Hermione's face.
She decided to take advantage of it. "Yes you do." She sniggered.
Draco was temporarily surprised. "I only ask because I'm curious, Granger. Nothing else."
"But you wouldn't be curious unless you cared."
Hermione could feel a strong sense of hope inside her. Hope, that perhaps Draco did care for her and that he did share her feelings. She longed for him to say something, something more to support her wishful thinking. But he didn't. He sat, looked away and shrugged. She sighed quietly to herself. Once again, the room was noiseless, and so, she decided to lie on her bed for a while.
"Granger, do you know Dumbledore's plan?"
The question had been a spontaneous one. She shrugged. "I know of it."
"But do you know it?"
She shook her head. She had thought for a while about the plan but had decided to push it aside for more important matters – like Malfoy. Somehow she could not bring herself to call him Draco.
"Have you not thought about it?" asked Draco, sounding surprised. "At all?"
She shook her head again. She thought of it now, and realised how silly it was of her to not have thought of the plan first, to not have placed it before everything else (even her most confusing of feelings).
He snorted. "And I thought you were reasonably clever, Granger. You can't expect me to believe that you haven't spared a moment's thought to it! Seriously, I expected better."
"Well if you're so smart, then tell me! Tell me about this plan of Dumbledore's."
"Figure it out for yourself, Granger," muttered Draco. He seemed unwilling to tell her – although that would have been much easier. "Think about it. Think about why this plan would involve both me and you."
And so she lay, pondering. She could not seem to think of it – of why Draco and her were both so important to the plan. Could it be a coincidence? No, Dumbledore was not the sort for coincidences. But she had no more time for thinking. The two heard footsteps nearing them, heavy and not at all discreet. The door to the room opened, and there stood Ron Weasley, his flame-like red hair as messy as it ever was.
"Hey Hermione," said Ron, giving her a warm smile. "You saw what happened through the window, right?"
Hermione nodded. "Is Ben all right?"
"Fine, fine," replied Ron, now sending a glare to Draco, "Madam Pomfrey's got him, so he'll be all right. Have you two been . . . busy?"
"We've been talking, Weasley." Draco immediately snapped. "That's all."
Ron gave Draco the dirtiest look he could muster. "Fine. I was just wondering. Anyway." He turned to Hermione once more. "Dumbledore sent me to lead you to the Hospital Wing – but he said that we can only go using the short cut in this room. Says we might get distracted if we use the corridors."
The three students looked around the room, as though suddenly expecting a door to appear in front of them. However, after a few minutes of waiting, they knew that something must be done for nothing had happened.
"Ron, how did Dumbledore say we could get to this 'short cut'?" asked Hermione, quietly looking around the room. "It must be some sort of secret passage way that no one's ever found before . . ."
Ron shrugged. "I don't know. You know how Dumbledore is. He never just tells you something, does he?"
Hermione sighed. Dumbledore was wise; he knew so much more than any other man that Hermione knew. She knew that Dumbledore wanted his students to depend on themselves – to think for themselves – which was why he barely ever explained everything in full detail. But they were running out of time and Hermione's mind was beginning to get tired. She had not stopped thinking and she feared that if she did not stop soon, her mind would run out of power somehow.
"I wonder where it could be . . ." mumbled Ron to himself, feelings the walls carefully with his hands.
"Granger." Draco called. He beckoned her towards him, completely ignoring Ron, who was now standing beside him, peering at what he was pointing at with the tip of his wand. Hermione knelt down beside them. Draco's wand was somehow attached to an imprint of a snake on one of the beds. The imprint was moving, ever so slightly, around Draco's wand. It began to hiss, louder and louder, until eyes appeared and they shone a deep crimson, gleaming in the dull light of the oil lamp.
"Passsword?" The snake hissed at them.
"Password, Weasley," said Draco, sounding almost urgent.
"Dumbledore didn't say anything about a password." Ron mumbled.
"What?" Draco yelled angrily, his nostrils flaring. Hermione was certain that he would have stood, had his wand not been trapped by the snake. "How in the world does he expect us to get in when he doesn't even give you the password?"
"Two passswordsss are required," hissed the snake, surprising the trio, "They mussst be ssspoken from the wand-bearer."
"You got to give us a clue, at least!" said Ron, sounding exasperated.
"Four foundersss joined handsss to form Hogwartsss," said the snake, its eyes never loosing their eerie glow, "They vowed never to do one thing . . ."
Hermione suddenly had an idea. "Malfoy, it's Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus, the school motto. It's Latin for Never Tickle a Sleeping Dragon – one thing that the four founders would have definitely obeyed."
"I'm not even going to bother asking how you know that . . ." Ron muttered as Draco did as Hermione had suggested and the snake announced that it was ready for the second password.
"Sssalazar Ssslytherin, was not a man, unable to love," said the snake. Both Hermione and Draco knew the second password at once.
"Amie Slytherin, Slytherin's Bride." Draco said. His wand seemed to glow – a crimson colour, identical to that of the snake's eyes. There was a cracking noise, as the bed seemed to split in two. Underneath this bed was not floorboards, or any flooring for that matter, but a giant hole, one so dark that it was impossible to see the bottom of it (if it had any).
Ron gulped. "I think Malfoy should go first!"
"Shut up, Weasley," snapped Draco, "Granger can go first."
"No!" Hermione cried indignantly. She had heard of 'ladies first', but now was certainly not the time. She held her wand closer to the hole. "Lumos."
The three peered down into the hole, hoping to see something in the darkness – but it was in vain. Draco took a biscuit from the tray by the window and dropped it into the hole. They waited. It was a while before they heard it land (with a plop) at what they hoped was the bottom of the hole.
"At least we know it has an end now," mumbled Draco, sounding anything but optimistic.
"I think, we should all hold hands and jump in this hole together." Hermione suggested. Ron and Draco looked positively disgusted.
"I'm not holding Malfoy's hand! No way!"
"Don't flatter yourself, Weasley. I wouldn't want to hold your hand even if it meant travelling down that hole alone! Holding hands with Weasley would be just too revolting, Granger."
She rolled her eyes. "Well I have two hands. You can both hold mine."
Ron gave another glare in Draco's direction before stepping forward and taking Hermione's hand. She held her other hand out towards Draco, waiting for him to either take it, or say something unpleasant and nasty. She secretly wished for the former, rather than the latter. He stood for a while, before finally taking her hand and facing the hole.
"Remind me to wash my hands later . . ." he muttered. Hermione ignored his comment. She squeezed Ron and Draco's hands, feeling the warmth and general stickiness of Ron's, and the coldness of Draco's.
Holding their breath, she counted to three before they shut their eyes and jumped into the hole, down into the depths of the unknown.
Edited Version: 31st August 2005