All I need to get by

Chapter Eleven: Has so Much Been Owed

Never in the field of human conflict has so much been owed by so many to so few

Winston Churchill

Hermione landed on a hard stone floor with a crash of coloured lights and the other half of the scream which she had left at the charity function. Her wrist was still being clamped between two hands, and she was dragged roughly out of the apparation point. Her head was circling the skull it had formerly inhabitated dizzily, and the familiar lurch of the tandem apparation left her retching fruit juice. It clung to the side of her mouth, and mingled with the blood pouring from a gash in her right temple.

Nobody spoke as the hands released her and dragged her upwards so she hung limp from the arms held under her shoulders, like a sad toy which no one loves anymore. Tears clotted her eyes, blurring the shining shapes which flickered tantalizingly in front of her eyes.

'Some Unspeakable,' growled the low voice of the larger man, 'I think the sodding mediwizard would have done better with tandem apparation.'

He dragged the sodden Unspeakable over to the smallest of the stone blocks which surrounded them, and propped her against it. She sank down slightly as the lights receded.

'She's coming round,' commented the familiar voice.

Hermione blinked blurrily, the stench of her own vomit making her want to retch again, but she forced it down. A tiny noise of terror sounded in a childish voice, and the scrape of thick rope against stone as a tiny body wriggled.

'No!' came a child's cry, 'No!'

'Stay still!' the rough voice answered, and his reply was the thump of head against stone.

Hermione opened her eyes, and tried to look around. She was sitting on thick springy grass, damp rising up through the dress she was wearing, the halmark of the cooler evenings. Her back was against rough stone, and rope was binding her; apparantly the work of the stooped wizard worridly watching the larger man. Around her sat at least eleven other stones, and with a sickening jolt of realisation she recognised Stonehenge. The University lights glimmered in the distance, and she realised the stone circle was illuminated by the larger man.

The light seemed to pour out from around his clothes and diffuse into the surroudnings. Even through the clothes she could see the red glow, no matter the thick cloak which he wore. He was standing over one particular stone, and kicking something moodily.

The something he was kicking was pliable and soft, and gave way easily. Hermione retched again as she saw that it was a tiny child, no older than four. Long dark hair hung around the petit elfin face, pretty pink dungarees stretched over her feet showed her to be a muggle's child, or a tolerant wizard's child. Had she come from a wizarding family with pureblood ideals she would have been in robes. Her little feet were bare, and her face was bloody. The tiny purple T-shirt she wore underneath the dungarees was ripped up one sleeve.

'Master,' the smaller man said, and Hermione turned to face him for the first time that evening, 'The Unspeakable is awake.'

'Good,' the younger man said, and Hermione found herself almost blinded as he stood in front of her.

'Who are you?' the girl asked, forgetting all policies of silence they had tried to teach her at Unspeakable Training, 'And what do you want with me?'

How cliché, her brain chided her gently, how utterly cliché to say those words. Honestly, was she in a muggle movie? Hermione revolted against her brain, and almost wished she was in a muggle movie, that way at least she would know the blood and dirt mingling on the little girl's face was stage make-up.

'And she speaks,' laughed the lit up man, 'I was beginning to wonder if she had slept her way into power, because she certainly doesn't have brains, stupid mudblood.'

'I am not a whore!' she flailed miserably against the bonds, 'I am not!'

'Mister Nicholas Krum certainly thinks you are,' he said, 'Why, he told me so himself. Drew a handsome bit of attention to yourself. Otherwise I didn't think I would have found you – Potter kept trying to engage me in Quidditch talk.'

'Master,' the smaller man whinged, 'May I hurt her? She had me taken to Azkaban, the stupid mudblood, may I?'

'Oh for goodness sake!' snapped the dominant one, 'Do you have no patience? This is why our owner put me in charge. Crap. Anyone would think you didn't know anything!'

The older man with the twisted look to his face sulked away defiantly to where the tiny child still lay, whimpering slightly as she woke up again. He crouched down very close to her and stroked her hair away from her eyes awkwardly; almost a tender movement, but not quite. The little girl squeezed her eyes shut and a tear slipped out from under her eyelids.

'Penthorpe…'

Hermione cringed involuntarily. The dominant male as she had dubbed him had kicked her in the side as he rose unwillingly. His wand was outstretched towards the smaller man, who rose away from the child hurridly.

'You are making her cry,' he carried on, 'Stay away from her.'

'Yes master,' growled the old man, giving the little girl a sly kick in the ribs as he stood.

'Crucio!'

Hermione screamed until she could feel the lining of her throat vibrating. Her eyes shut and she bucked against the stone wildly, wriggling horribly as she tried to eascape the pain. She could feel the air hitting her skin, a million tiny needles poking her savagly. The curse was so painful that she could barely feel the pain any more.

'Hermione!' came an agonized cry from across the stone platform, and Hermione suddenly became aware of the air she was sucking into her lungs furiously as the curse lifted.

Draco Malfoy hurled himself without really being aware of what he was doing. He hit the man he was aiming for and sent both of them crashing to the ground, gasping for breath that refused to come. A deep horrid panic welled up in his eyes, red and savage, as he struggled to breathe. His chest moved rapidly, and out of the corner of his vision he was aware the man he had lown at was breathing the same way.

The ground was rushing up to meet him again before the air he craved rushed back into his system as a foot came down heavily on the back of his neck. He rolled away, hands instinctively tightening around the first man's windpipe. The skin under his hands bobbed as the adam apple danced, and he could feel the beginning of stubble grazing his fingers. There was another kick, lower down his back.

Hermione screamed, and carried on screaming. Their was the sound of a child crying. The air was thick and heavy. Twenty pops filled the sounds with a rythym, but Draco didn't relax his fingers.

'Stupefy!' called a foreign voice, and Hermione was collapsing into gasping sobs, paradoxically screaming again.

'Crucio!' came the voice again, and she screamed and felt her body go numb as she wriggled below the ropes that stopped her from throwing herself onto the ground and ripping her hair out.

'Stupefy!' came another shout, but Draco was thrown violently away from the man as the spell grazed his back and flung him away.

'Avada Kedara!' an unearthly green light filled the arena as a black cloaked Unspeakable fell, gasping and choking as he drowned in his own lungs,

'No!' a shout sounded like a howl, mournful and painfilled, raw like the calling of the urban fox, 'Stupefy! Stupefy!'

The Unspeakables were thrown off track by the dying man, as he gurgled on his back, hands clutching invisable air. They threw themselves flat on the ground in the hopes of not attracting attention and waiting until the green smoke cleared, but it hung there like thick fog, heavy and sad. Malfoy was struggling again, this time with the older man, clawing at his face to make him take the crucio off Hermione, whose mouth was open in a soundless scream. The child was still wailing out a mournful song; sounding to Malfoy more like a death chant every second it suffered his ears.

The little man stumbled this way and that, too confused and upset by the howls of rage coming from a lone Unspeakable who refused to lie low to attempt to use his shahib powers – although they were limited and could not do much damage anyway. The spell he had preformed on Hermione had weakened him considerably, and holding the crucio was draining him. His energies were being expanded in every which way.

Malfoy, inscensed by the gasping primative shudders coming from Hermione, bit down hard onto soft flesh. His slightly sharp canines (The Malfoys were the only family to actively encourage breeding with vampires in the 19th century) bit down and warmth filled his mouth, a faint metallic taste wafting up his nostrils like toxic fumes. The man under him howled and dropped to his knees, stupidly releasing his wand as he tried to roll Malfoy off his back. His fingers clawed at the face close to his neck.

Malfoy felt the fingers scratching his face, and bit down on one of the digits in a frenzied attmept to stop the little man clawing his eyes out. He was rewarded by another yelp, and the sound of Hermione gasping and dragging cold air into her desperate lungs. The sound of another killing curse echoed through the glade as Malfoy's fingers tightened around his victim's throat, squeezing the life from him.

The old man died that evening, his face grotesqley purple with a delicate pattern of finger prints around his throat, of a heart failure brought on by stress, or so the mediwitch diagnosed thoughtfully. Draco Malfoy rolled off him and lay on his back gasping for breath, fingers closing feebily on thin air, aware that there was someone coming towards him, and Hermione was screaming his name. There was blood on his shoes from the throat of the man he had bitten, and the blood still filled his mouth whenever he swallowed.

The edge of a dragonhide boot hit his stomach, and the taller man stumbled over him backwards, backing away from the incensed Unspeakable who was following him. The light surroudning him was flickering, and gathering.

'Balisto!' cried the Unspeakable, and everything seemed to stop for a while.

The man shrieked and clawed at his face as the black light hit him in the centre of his chest – a perfect aim noted the Unspeakable idily – cawing his anguish. In one hand a red ball of light was forming, and his eyes flickered from the prone mediwizard on the floor to the Unspeakable who was killing him. He growled something in a voice no one heard because he was screaming over it, and flung the ball of light into the air. It curved gracefully, shedding light behind it like a falling star.

The Unspeakable watched transfixed.

Draco Malfoy gave one last desperate look at Hermione, bound struggling to the stone, and realised with sickening clarity that he loved her.

'My revenge is complete,' murmered the dying man, seeming to want to make his last moments of life cliché, and smiled a holy, pure smile. It lit up his face like that of a madonna, and cast a glowing sheen upon the transfixed child, watching with open eyes.

'Pappy!' it screamed suddenly, and the man, looking so pious and clean, tipped forward onto his knees, and from his knees to embrace to cold hard earth that called him home.

Seconds later the light ball, his final parting gift, hit Draco Malfoy so that he writhed and bled upon the ground. The child screamed. Hermione ripped through the bonds and stumbled forward on her hands and knees, forcing her damaged body to obey her commands.

She sat on that bloody battlefield, realising as she did so that she had seen this done hundreds of times before, and cradled his head in her lap. His face was mangled with blood, and he had no control over his limbs. She told him exactly what she thought of him, not caring about anything else, not even caring if he didn't return the sentiment.

'I love you Draco Malfoy,' she whispered, kissing his damp, slick face. Her lips came away red.

His mouth wouldn't open, so he just looked her straight in the eye. She bent down to kiss him long and hard on the lips, and he whispered to her as she did so the words she wanted to hear more than anything. His hand somehow found it's way to her rounded bump, and he smiled serenly.

Snuffling / crying corner:

Can I just take this opportunity to say I think I have the best reviewers ever? I got home from school today absolutely gasping because of German (meeep) and read your reviews, and they made me laugh so much I decided to forget my homework and write you another chapter. I just wanted to say thanks because you brightened up my day!

Sorry this took so long, I hope you can see why it did – Draco had to come in and he refused to (he wanted a dramatic entrance – honestly, the fuss) and then I had to tie everything in. Hopefully you understand, if you don't things will be revealed next chapter.

Right, I would have had this up last night, but msn decided not to work, so I had to wait to do this…and look, now it does. Excellent.

Obsessive:- Thanks oodles O bountiful reviewer, I'm glad you like my updating infrequenties. Sorry about this time!

Sunflower18:- awesome, I shall have to add that to my repetoire. It's not asap, but hey, it's a chapter!

Jean jelly bean:- Thanks for understanding! Instalment – sounds more exciting than this was! Teehee!

Draco's Slytherin angel:- Fantabulous review! It made me really happy! I'm so glad you liked Hermione, I'm always a bit unsure whether I get her right. I guess Nigel is one of those culture differences – although there aren't that many youth in Britain called Nigel it's still the epitomy of normality. And part of the charm of Lancelot for me was the kind of love-mess for me – I always thought that by calling your child Lancelot you were practically stamping 'stud' on his head. Maybe I'm just weird. Thanks so much for your review!

Missy3:- ::bounces for a while and then stops:: that was tiring. Thanks!

Soul Stealer Immortal:- Excellent name. I haven't actually decided whether to kill the baby off or not, but I think not. You never know, I might send Draco down the gym and shape him up – perhaps. Depends on how sappy I feel. And you got the link you clever person you. Thanks!

Baconstrips:- GENERAL NOTE, you loser. If you guys haven't got one of these charming 'reviews' yet you simply have to go onto my review pages and read them. It cracked me up, honestly it did. I don't think I've ever been called a fer so many times in my life. And no, I don't think you're mean, I think you're sad, and have the most abyssmal vocabularly ever. Teehee. Why did I get one anyway? Hmmm.

Foxer:- Thanks for pointing out the mistakes in the names, I'm sorry. I hope you like this chapter more – I wasn't nuts on the last one either, but it had to be there. Thanks for the review!

MadAboutHarry:- Name That Tune? Explain please. It kind of lingers on the edge of my subconcious mind, but that's probably an image conjured up. Hmmm. Perhaps I was a little over enthusiastic. I forgot about the trials, so it's more like four chapters, not including this one…er, whoops?

Sweet Beatrix:- Pregnant Hermione was kindof cool really. Don't worry, 'nice' pregnant Hermione crops up again. I was oing to have her being all modd swingy with her kidnappers, but then I thought she couldn't, because she's a professional and probably been trained in how to deal with those situations…blablabla. I'm glad you got the Draco I meant for people to get! It wasn't really a soon update, but never mind…::ducks missiles:: okay, I'll try and be quicker next time.

Venus725:- I like that, a kind of pledge. Snazzy. You'd better read the rest of it ::menacing glare::

Dark Pixie 13:- That wasn't too long was it? ::guilty face:: whoops. Glad you enjoyed it.

Lauren:- If my head gets any bigger it'll fall off my neck. That was such a sweet thing to say! I'm assuming you read the rest, or maybe ignored it. ::grin:: Thanks!

I think that's the most reviews I've ever got! You're all so sweet (except 'baconstrips' because that wasn't really a review, just a general, pointless thing, but never mind). ::throws arms up and does weird little jig:: I decided not to dedicate this chapter because you're all so lovely and I couldn't choose anyone…

Added later: Oh wow! 100 reviews! ::jumps around a lot:: I'm so happy!