Disclaimer: I own nothing...but my sick and twisted imagination
Mesmer: Tension is a perfect description, thanks.
KivaidensGirl: I hold my breath in anticipation of your reviews after each chapter. =}
TimeBomb: *I repeat 'Excellent' in my best Mr. Burns voice.. *
PolishPrincess: I love all my fans. Thanks for the reviews. Patience is not one of my virtues either...lol.
Lessien: I feel no remorse, I am a cruel person...he he. I hate having Draco be in pain, but I just can't help myself...
K-Magic: I value the encouragement.
Elle: Gratification comes with this update.
Anastasia: I try to always put my readers where I am standing at that moment. If I am swept up in the story, I pray that you are too. I am glad that I could show you what I saw.
Mirage: Thank you.
Chapter 16: In the Dungeons
They plotted and planned. Scheming they scribbled furious notes on spare bits of parchment. Neither boy was coming up with anything brilliant, like with their earlier accomplishments. Upon reflection, they realized that was because their previous attempts were never meticulously planned. They had always used the element of surprise and sheer spontaneity to overcome insurmountable odds.
Voting for the fail-safe plan that always held true for them they pitched the unlikely propositions and prepared for the basics. Ron had come up with the suggestion that they should split up and one should assist Hermione and the other should go after Draco. At first this additional rescue mission confounded Harry.
But his old friend proved chivalrous again, explaining begrudgingly that Hermione's heart belonged to Draco, and Ron's heart was utterly devoted to Hermione. Why she loved the pigment-ly challenged little spaz, no one knew. But if she had a weakness for albinos, that was ok in Ron's book. They could do no less than to be the better men in the situation and, for Hermione's sake, rescue her true love.
Besides, she probably wouldn't return to Hogwarts without the insufferable brat. That was the reason she was there in the first place. Shrugging, Harry agreed. Hermione was as stubborn as a mule. If they didn't at least attempt to rescue the detestable oddball, she would insist she return until they were positive there was no hope.
The impulsiveness of their situation has a glimmer of hope that it could actually succeed. All the years the three had been together, they had faced Voldemort on numerous occasions and pulled through by the skin on their backs. May their good fortune continue with them, they hoped, because in a few hours they would be once again facing their tremendous foe.
Ron flipped the coin artfully in the air, and proclaimed disappointedly that Harry would be the privileged one to assist Hermione and that he had to be Draco's reluctant hero. To say that Ron was less that enthused was the understatement of the year.
They kept the plans down to the basics. Very simple was the way to go. Surely it would be complicated enough without coordinating watches and such melodramatic portrayals. Last year in their secretive D.A. meetings they had mastered illegally how to apparate. Though their skills weren't quite perfected, they were left no other choice for the urgency of the quest. They would both apparate by the gates to Malfoy Manor, or as close as they could get. Given that there were probably more dark charms and warding spells than at Hogwarts. It would be equivalent of breaking into Gringotts.
Ron would search stealthily around inside the manor and adjoining grounds for Malfoy and Harry would go to the neighboring woods and begin his quest for Hermione. She had, in her fleeting wisdom, told him that in accordance with the ransom note she was to rendezvous with Lucius outside his formidable home in Widow Forest. They assumed that Draco must be imprisoned close by. It was a long shot but it was their only option.
===============================================================
Hermione was gagging in her sleep. She found that she couldn't turn over. The forest jumped to life in her mind. There was supposed to have been a meeting. To exchange ransom for Draco and yet, no one had been there. Cautiously she has searched the clearing, dread filling her mind that this was a trap. She refused to listen. Why hadn't she acknowledged the little voice in the pit of her stomach that said, "Turn back now"? Suddenly, there was a noise close by.
She had been running, racing for her life in the dark. She remembered that she stumbled clumsily into a rock. No, it wasn't a rock but a chest. Hands clutched roughly at her tangled hair and laughter, such familiar laughter, found her. She was no longer in that forest, she could tell immediately. She had been transported somewhere indoor. There were cold slabs under her, and she could feel a draft emanating from them.
The horror at her discovery was unbearable. "No, not here. Anywhere but in this place. Please God. NO!" Terror and the knowledge that this time it was not the dream consumed Hermione's fragile mind. The familiar dungeons loomed ahead. Same repulsive stone walls, same bound corpse neighboring her. Likewise was the dooming hallway. Her worst fears were realized. Never had she entertained the thought that her nightmares would come into reality.
Premonition was her enemy at this moment. She wished that she didn't already know what would happen, but the beckoning sounds of a mocking voice became comprehensible as it approached. He rounded the corner with ease. The nauseating conversations played out in her head. Her stomach churned as she desperately tried to focus.
"Don't fret, Draco will survive. We have plans for that young man. His potential is uncharted. Lucius is seeing to his punishment in the adjoining room. There was never any question of that. He will eventually forget you, through torture, and join me. But that doesn't concern you. Now, the reason you are here, my foolish one, is to ensure that your brave friends come rushing into my waiting arms." The voice was unearthly. The vile thoughts permeated the room. The stench was overpowering.
"Shortly I shall have all that I require to secure my victory. Dumbledore's pensive can't hold its mysteries forever." Shock registered at this last comment. Hermione had never tried to peer inside and decipher what was so important. Her survival may have depended on it and she hadn't bothered to look. Now Voldemort had his ultimate weapon.
"I need only unlock it with the correct spell and unleash all the mystery of the prophecy. Dumbledore was a fool to believe that he alone could know the outcome of this war. Soon I shall discover the secret I need to bring about the destruction of Harry Potter, and then the world shall be mine!"
She was so disappointed. She had been the one to relinquish her friends to the enemy. Through her, Voldemort would win. He would defeat them using the wisdom imparted in the pensive, to which she could only guess. The final note: It was all her fault. Her friends, having the best intentions would likely come to her rescue, and she would deliver them into hell. At the feet of the devil himself, Hermione's anguish spilled from her.
===============================================================
Draco's hearing attuned instantly to Hermione's muffled wailing next door. He had never thought a human possible of creating such heart wrenching sounds. The sheer agony and despair twisted at his heart. "Dear God, what are they doing to her?" He was torn in two as he desperately tried to free himself. The bonds were too tight. They fitted perfectly to him, as if designed specifically for that purpose, his bondage.
The only comfort being that for the moment she was still alive. If his father had his way, she would be for a very long time. He loved to prolong the experiences. He would drain the victim of all their fears, and use it against them. He enjoyed the ritualistic taunting. Family members, friends, and anyone who had ever meant something to that person were in for a really bad week.
The door slammed and Lucius was staring at his son's profile turned to gaze at the wall separating him and his mudblood girlfriend. "So, you've noticed that we have company. Well, shall we invite them over? He let the whip fly as Draco hurled himself against the chains that restrained him. "I am sure that you muggle born girlfriend should reap the benefit of a good whipping. I have been told it is proper reinforcement for a horse." Lucius sneered vilely.
"Touch her and I'll kill you." Draco's voice was so cruel that Lucius was shaken to the core. He almost sounded like, well, him. Far colder were his eyes, the flecks of steel burned as if lava. The sincerity in Draco's voice showed that this was not an empty threat, but a justified promise. "Father, do not doubt the courage of my convictions; it may well be your downfall."
Mesmer: Tension is a perfect description, thanks.
KivaidensGirl: I hold my breath in anticipation of your reviews after each chapter. =}
TimeBomb: *I repeat 'Excellent' in my best Mr. Burns voice.. *
PolishPrincess: I love all my fans. Thanks for the reviews. Patience is not one of my virtues either...lol.
Lessien: I feel no remorse, I am a cruel person...he he. I hate having Draco be in pain, but I just can't help myself...
K-Magic: I value the encouragement.
Elle: Gratification comes with this update.
Anastasia: I try to always put my readers where I am standing at that moment. If I am swept up in the story, I pray that you are too. I am glad that I could show you what I saw.
Mirage: Thank you.
Chapter 16: In the Dungeons
They plotted and planned. Scheming they scribbled furious notes on spare bits of parchment. Neither boy was coming up with anything brilliant, like with their earlier accomplishments. Upon reflection, they realized that was because their previous attempts were never meticulously planned. They had always used the element of surprise and sheer spontaneity to overcome insurmountable odds.
Voting for the fail-safe plan that always held true for them they pitched the unlikely propositions and prepared for the basics. Ron had come up with the suggestion that they should split up and one should assist Hermione and the other should go after Draco. At first this additional rescue mission confounded Harry.
But his old friend proved chivalrous again, explaining begrudgingly that Hermione's heart belonged to Draco, and Ron's heart was utterly devoted to Hermione. Why she loved the pigment-ly challenged little spaz, no one knew. But if she had a weakness for albinos, that was ok in Ron's book. They could do no less than to be the better men in the situation and, for Hermione's sake, rescue her true love.
Besides, she probably wouldn't return to Hogwarts without the insufferable brat. That was the reason she was there in the first place. Shrugging, Harry agreed. Hermione was as stubborn as a mule. If they didn't at least attempt to rescue the detestable oddball, she would insist she return until they were positive there was no hope.
The impulsiveness of their situation has a glimmer of hope that it could actually succeed. All the years the three had been together, they had faced Voldemort on numerous occasions and pulled through by the skin on their backs. May their good fortune continue with them, they hoped, because in a few hours they would be once again facing their tremendous foe.
Ron flipped the coin artfully in the air, and proclaimed disappointedly that Harry would be the privileged one to assist Hermione and that he had to be Draco's reluctant hero. To say that Ron was less that enthused was the understatement of the year.
They kept the plans down to the basics. Very simple was the way to go. Surely it would be complicated enough without coordinating watches and such melodramatic portrayals. Last year in their secretive D.A. meetings they had mastered illegally how to apparate. Though their skills weren't quite perfected, they were left no other choice for the urgency of the quest. They would both apparate by the gates to Malfoy Manor, or as close as they could get. Given that there were probably more dark charms and warding spells than at Hogwarts. It would be equivalent of breaking into Gringotts.
Ron would search stealthily around inside the manor and adjoining grounds for Malfoy and Harry would go to the neighboring woods and begin his quest for Hermione. She had, in her fleeting wisdom, told him that in accordance with the ransom note she was to rendezvous with Lucius outside his formidable home in Widow Forest. They assumed that Draco must be imprisoned close by. It was a long shot but it was their only option.
===============================================================
Hermione was gagging in her sleep. She found that she couldn't turn over. The forest jumped to life in her mind. There was supposed to have been a meeting. To exchange ransom for Draco and yet, no one had been there. Cautiously she has searched the clearing, dread filling her mind that this was a trap. She refused to listen. Why hadn't she acknowledged the little voice in the pit of her stomach that said, "Turn back now"? Suddenly, there was a noise close by.
She had been running, racing for her life in the dark. She remembered that she stumbled clumsily into a rock. No, it wasn't a rock but a chest. Hands clutched roughly at her tangled hair and laughter, such familiar laughter, found her. She was no longer in that forest, she could tell immediately. She had been transported somewhere indoor. There were cold slabs under her, and she could feel a draft emanating from them.
The horror at her discovery was unbearable. "No, not here. Anywhere but in this place. Please God. NO!" Terror and the knowledge that this time it was not the dream consumed Hermione's fragile mind. The familiar dungeons loomed ahead. Same repulsive stone walls, same bound corpse neighboring her. Likewise was the dooming hallway. Her worst fears were realized. Never had she entertained the thought that her nightmares would come into reality.
Premonition was her enemy at this moment. She wished that she didn't already know what would happen, but the beckoning sounds of a mocking voice became comprehensible as it approached. He rounded the corner with ease. The nauseating conversations played out in her head. Her stomach churned as she desperately tried to focus.
"Don't fret, Draco will survive. We have plans for that young man. His potential is uncharted. Lucius is seeing to his punishment in the adjoining room. There was never any question of that. He will eventually forget you, through torture, and join me. But that doesn't concern you. Now, the reason you are here, my foolish one, is to ensure that your brave friends come rushing into my waiting arms." The voice was unearthly. The vile thoughts permeated the room. The stench was overpowering.
"Shortly I shall have all that I require to secure my victory. Dumbledore's pensive can't hold its mysteries forever." Shock registered at this last comment. Hermione had never tried to peer inside and decipher what was so important. Her survival may have depended on it and she hadn't bothered to look. Now Voldemort had his ultimate weapon.
"I need only unlock it with the correct spell and unleash all the mystery of the prophecy. Dumbledore was a fool to believe that he alone could know the outcome of this war. Soon I shall discover the secret I need to bring about the destruction of Harry Potter, and then the world shall be mine!"
She was so disappointed. She had been the one to relinquish her friends to the enemy. Through her, Voldemort would win. He would defeat them using the wisdom imparted in the pensive, to which she could only guess. The final note: It was all her fault. Her friends, having the best intentions would likely come to her rescue, and she would deliver them into hell. At the feet of the devil himself, Hermione's anguish spilled from her.
===============================================================
Draco's hearing attuned instantly to Hermione's muffled wailing next door. He had never thought a human possible of creating such heart wrenching sounds. The sheer agony and despair twisted at his heart. "Dear God, what are they doing to her?" He was torn in two as he desperately tried to free himself. The bonds were too tight. They fitted perfectly to him, as if designed specifically for that purpose, his bondage.
The only comfort being that for the moment she was still alive. If his father had his way, she would be for a very long time. He loved to prolong the experiences. He would drain the victim of all their fears, and use it against them. He enjoyed the ritualistic taunting. Family members, friends, and anyone who had ever meant something to that person were in for a really bad week.
The door slammed and Lucius was staring at his son's profile turned to gaze at the wall separating him and his mudblood girlfriend. "So, you've noticed that we have company. Well, shall we invite them over? He let the whip fly as Draco hurled himself against the chains that restrained him. "I am sure that you muggle born girlfriend should reap the benefit of a good whipping. I have been told it is proper reinforcement for a horse." Lucius sneered vilely.
"Touch her and I'll kill you." Draco's voice was so cruel that Lucius was shaken to the core. He almost sounded like, well, him. Far colder were his eyes, the flecks of steel burned as if lava. The sincerity in Draco's voice showed that this was not an empty threat, but a justified promise. "Father, do not doubt the courage of my convictions; it may well be your downfall."