Remnants of Life
Disclaimer: The Characters aren't mine, only the Plot. Characters are from the mind of J.K. Rowling.
Rating: PG-13
===Note===
I like writing angst. There' something calming about it. Then again I think I've been writing in the same style too long. I want to try some humor one of these days. Maybe my next story =)
Chapter 5: What Will You Sacrifice?
The door shattered like glass as the spell hit. Hermione huddled to the ground with her arms shielding her from the flying splinters. There were screams from the others but she heard nothing from the boy by her side.
Dust rose and hung heavily after the explosion. Hermione coughed violently and squinted at the entryway in an attempt to see the enemy. Their shadowy shapes were all she could make out.
Vaguely she was aware that her hand had not released its hold on Malfoy's arm. Tightly she clutched on to him as if he was the only anchor able to save her from the rapids of hell. In the depths of her mind however, Hermione knew he was as helpless as herself.
The dust cleared after a moment and looking up she saw them at last. Their cloaked forms were eerie and caused her to violently shiver. Each Deatheater had their wand raised and ready to strike. They advanced into the room cautiously as if there could still be an obstacle in the way. Hermione almost wanted to laugh at the thought that these men were threatened by mere students. What were they but hopeless after all? All the training of their previous years deserted Hermione as soon as it was actually needed. They had learned the spells, she realized, but failed to simulate the situation.
Her eyes were lowered to the ground and she watched their feet as they neared. With every nerve tensed, she focused her gaze on the settling dust and cracks in the stone, anything to avoid looking up into the eyes of her soon to be killer.
A figure stopped inches before her and Hermione flinched when she felt a wand tip lowered to her eye level. With the weapon under her chin, she had no choice but to comply when the Deatheater tilted her head upwards. She knew her eyes must have been wide and her face tear stained, but that hardly matter any longer.
The disguised evil looked at her a moment from within the darkness of his cloak. Hermione gazed back with her breathe held but could not distinguish their identity.
"Filth!" He spat at her.
Suddenly she felt a forceful blow to the side of her head. The mysterious individual smacked her with an open palm and caused her to fall sideways to the floor. Stars danced behind her eyes for a moment before leaving her with only stinging pain. Faintly she heard Malfoy let out a yell. The crash which followed wretched her from her daze and she snapped her head up in time to see her tormentor fly backwards into the wall.
Malfoy had managed to stand in that time and his wand was raised. The Deatheater's wand flew through the air before landing in his outstretched hand. Her defender stood panting for a moment, allowing his last action to sink in. Success was brief however, because an instant later the remaining cloaked figures unleashed a volley of spells.
Hermione watched from her sprawled position as Malfoy was thrown against the stone. To her amazement, he retained his consciousness as he slide slowly to the floor and landed on his hands and knees.
Hastily she wiped the tears from her eyes when she noticed the glistening blood drip from his hairline and down his face. The moonlight shone through the window and illuminated his pale skin. The dark red drop contrasted sharply in the dim lighting.
Hermione quickly lowered her head and shut her eyes tightly. She had witnessed death already this night, she couldn't see a actual murder also. She wished she had been able to close her ears too, anything to deafen the cruel sounds which would no doubt follow.
A moment passed, then another. Hermione heard nothing and wondered if time had stopped. Finally, the echo of a footstep drew her attention and she looked up despite herself.
A Deatheater stepped out from the group and advanced on Malfoy. She noticed a ghostly hand emerge from the robes and reach out in an almost comforting manner. She watched mesmerized as the hood was lowered and silver blonde hair fell down on his shoulders.
"It doesn't have to end like this, Draco." Lucius' voice was smooth, almost reassuring. Hermione knew better than to trust a serpent. There would be a cost to accepting this ill intended comfort.
Hermione forgot to exhale as she waited for Malfoy to respond. She watched him panting heavily, his head was hung and his hair fell before his eyes. He couldn't seem to speak through his halted breathes.
Lucius took another step forward and extended a hand, offering to help his son up. Malfoy glared up through his bangs. He didn't accept the assistance, but spat at his father instead. Blood was mixed with the saliva and Lucius wiped it away with disgust.
"Fool! So you choose the losing side? You choose death!?" He screamed as he raised his wand. "It is unfortunate things have to end this way."
"No!" Hermione lunched forward and attempted to snatch the weapon from his outstretched hand. She was knocked back to the ground before she could make contact however. With a gasping grunt, she fell to her knees. An instant later she felt Lucius' clammy hand grasp her throat and raise her off the stones.
"That was a mistake, my little mudblood. That was a horrid mistake." His hold tightened and Hermione choked as she gasped for breathe. Small whimpers emitted from her lips and she felt certain it was over, that she would be strangled until the end.
"Drop the witch!" Malfoy yelled as he slowly pushed himself to his feet with visible effort.
Lucius looked at his son a moment in hesitation before revealing a haunting sneer. His grip around Hermione's throat loosened and she fell to the floor with a thud. Tears blinded her vision and she lay gagging, not entirely aware of what was happening.
"What would you be willing to do to save her, my son? What would you do to save them all?" He swept an arm over the remaining survivors huddled in the corner. His disturbing smirk widened and his eyes appeared almost merry as he taunted him.
Save what I can, he had said. Hermione heard the words he spoke just that morning again and again in her mind. He had known something, she realized now. He had known what was to come.
Save what I can. He had appeared calm when he muttered those words. He didn't even seem the least bit disturbed, as if the future was insignificant.
Hermione's sobs broke and echoed within the circular tower. Her tears blurred the image before her. Never the less, she watched intently as Malfoy accepted his father's outstretched hand. Her stomach tightened in misery and she wondered if her body was simply being eaten away by the pain.
She shuddered and choked while Malfoy surrendered to his father. Hermione heard his voice and wondered at the extent of his sacrifice.
"What must I do?" He asked quietly.
A wave of controlled laughter spread through the ranks of Deatheaters. She heard their deep chuckles and decided it was the cruelest sound on earth.
"Come with us, my son. There will be a job for you." Lucius spoke smoothly, his smirk never fading from his face.
Malfoy took a tentative step forward, then another. Hermione looked up from her exhausted position and caught his eye. The reflective orbs were dimmer than before and it caused her unexplainable pain. Her vision blurred once more until he became nothing by a dark outline.
Her head continued to follow his shapeless form as he walked to the doorway, ushered along by the enemy. Hermione's eyes fixed on his retreating back and wondered at what he could possibly be doing. Didn't he realize what he was committing to? Didn't he see that he was not actually saving them but condemning himself?
This wouldn't be the end of the war. There would be many more battles and bloodshed before all were doomed. Malfoy may have spared their lives for the time being, but Hermione knew another chance would come for them to die. His move was risky, and she didn't find there to be any long term advantages.
The enemies' footsteps echoed back to her as they traveled down the spiraling stairs. Once, the sound faded, she knew they were gone.
Wincing in pain, she used her hands to push herself up. The room almost seemed to spin around her and Hermione stumbled when she took a step. She replayed the scene in her mind and wondered at the Lucius' words. Come with us, my son. There will be a job for you.
She had been spared, they had all been, but it was at the cost of something much greater. Hermione knew the enemy too well. They would not offer such a deal unless they gained much in return. What job had Lucius referred to?
Shaking her head, Hermione attempted to banish the perplexing thoughts clouding her mind. It was then she felt another's presence beside her. She turned her head and looked down into the glistening eyes of a young second year. The boy was visibly trembling and there was no doubt that it was due to what had just occurred and not the cold.
He tugged at the sleeve of her robes and spoke with a tarnished yet innocent voice. "Is it over? Is the war lost?"
Hermione let out a bitter snort that blended into a faint chuckle. The question brought back memories of the night Malfoy comforted her. She knew there was no humor in the situation, yet she couldn't control her actions.
The boy looked frightened for a moment and stared at her reproachfully. His face silenced Hermione. Sighing deeply, she answered him with the only response which seemed to hold some meaning.
"No, it's not over. We still exist."
===Note===
Okay, was it sad, depressing, angst driven, boring? Tell me something. I need to figure out where I'm going with this and I need your input. Besides, I end up slacking off if there's no interest.
-Captive