Chapter 13

Madame Pince motioned for Hermione to sit in a red cushioned seat in the back office of the library.

"Bellatrix Black came from one of the most prominent, rich, pureblood families in the wizarding world. She had everything anyone could desire, talent, beauty, all the boyfriends one could ever want. She was a special favorite of You-Know-Who, for her amazing skills with a wand.

"Well, anyhow, Bellatrix fell in love with a certain man named Rodolphus Lestrange. Lestrange was handsome, debonair, rich, pureblood, and a ridiculously talented wizard. However, they both had a penchant for getting in trouble.

"When You-Know-Who came into power and began his reign of terror, the Lestranges got very wrapped up in it, both being pure-blood, and Bellatrix had been You-Know-Who's favorite pupil. Of course, the Aurors caught up with them, and in an intense battle, where many Aurors were killed, Rodolphus died.

"Now, you can imagine that this must have been a great dilemma for Bellatrix. Her true love had died, and she had managed to escape with his corpse.

"She turned to what you have turned to: Necromancy. She raised him from the dead: but with a terrible price. Rodolphus is practically immortal. She will wither and die, but he shall remain for close to eternity. There was another requirement that she had to pay to pull him back from behind the veil. She sold her soul to the devil."

"The devil?" Hermione scoffed. "There's no such thing as the devil, that's just religious nonsense."

Madame Pince looked at her over the top of her glasses. "The devil is just what we call pure evil. Bellatrix did not really "sell" her soul to the devil, she simply became purely evil. It is difficult to describe this phenomenon, for most who have practiced Necromancy are dead, or imprisoned for crimes against others. However, some sources tell of us of wizards who have escaped the horrors of the Necromancer's curse, but they are long dead."

"Is there any way to simply raise someone from the dead, without the side affect of immortal life, the possibility of me becoming evil?"

Madame Pince took the book and flipped through the yellowing pages. The book fell open to a page and she ran a long fingernail down the parchment.

"Ah, here we go, the spell of raising from the dead. The book even states how to avoid becoming a 'Venificus Malus.'"

"Evil wizard?" Hermione ventured uncertainly.

"Yes," Madame Pince said with a nod of her wizened head. "Indeed. But, Hermione, if you insist on proceeding with this spell, it is more dangerous than you can possibly imagine."

"I know," Hermione said solemnly. "But what could happen that's worse than death?"

Madame Pince looked at her over her glasses again. "A great many things are worse than death, Hermione. You of all people should know that."

Hermione hurried to the infirmary, where they had laid the corpse. She remembered all of her bitter conversations with Draco and marveled that now she was wiling to go into the depths of death to save him. She found his body wrapped in a sheet in the corner, lying stiffly on the bed. She gently pulled back the sheet, and saw that someone had smoothed out his handsome face, so it was no longer in such a terrified expression.

"Draco," she murmured softly, kissing him gently on the forehead. "Why did this have to happen?" She pulled the book out from her bag, and opened it up to the page. She took a deep breath and placed it on the bedside table.

"Redeo Vita," she whispered, holding her wand over his body. Suddenly, she jerked forward, and her eyes rolled up into her head. She dropped her wand and fell to the floor with a loud thud. Dumbledore stepped from the shadows, a tired, unhappy expression on his worn and old face. He leaned over and felt her pulse. Her heart had stopped beating, and the blood was rapidly leaving her face, leaving her very pale. He cast a spell and her body floated onto a bed. He watched her with weary eyes.

"And so it begins," he murmured to himself, "I just hope she gets out of this one."

Hermione felt herself being tugged through something, and she opened her eyes, and found herself on the edge of a river. The river was pitch black and rough. It undulated dangerously, and she stepped away from the water.

Someone coughed loudly. She looked up to find an old man in a boat standing, holding out his hand as if he were demanding something.

"Pardon?" she asked.

He motioned to his mouth, and opened it. She opened her mouth, and then realized there was something under her tongue. She reached into her mouth and pulled out a gold coin. The old man snatched the coin from her, and pulled her into the boat.

"Where are we going?" she asked. He pointed to the other side of the river, which seemed very distant and far away.

He stuck his pole into the water, and pulled them off the bank. Hermione stared down into the water and realized that it appeared as if there was fire within the gentle lapping waves. Then her mythology caught up with her.

"Is this the River of Styx?" she asked the boatsman. He nodded. "Are you Charon?" He nodded again. Presently, they reached the opposite shore, and Hermione climbed out. He vanished as soon as he had come, and Hermione set into the darkness beyond.

Presently after walking for a while straight into darkness she realized that there was a light flickering in the distance. She hurried to the light, and realized that it was a candle, hovering over a Gate. She reached the doorway, and was about to head through it, when she realized that there was more than one portal.

In fact, there were ten. They went in a circle, a candle hanging over each Gate. She wondered why she hadn't seen these candles or Gates before. There were strange symbols carved on the edges. She recognized an ankh on one Gate, a pentagram on another, but the rest were a mystery to her.

"Oh, Draco," she whispered. "Where do I go?" Suddenly something heavy weighed down her pocket and she reached in to find the Necromancy book. She flipped it open, and found a drawing of the Gates.

But there were no descriptions of what Gate she should take. She worriedly poured over the words surrounding the drawings. Finally, she closed her eyes and chose a Gate.

She had chosen the sun Gate. She went to the Gate and reached for the handle. Her hand closed around the knob, and she nearly pulled away when she realized how could it was. The brass was frigid, as if it had been submersed in Artic water.

Then she realized how cold the room was. She could see her breath, and goose-bumps were rising on her arms. She turned the handle and stepped into darkness.

A gust of hot dry wind greeted her and she opened her eyes. She was in the middle of the desert, on top of a dune, with sand running across her skin.

"Hello?" she called uncertainly.

Her words came bouncing back at her. She was about to go back through the door, when someone called her name.

"Hermione," they whispered kindly. "Welcome to the desert, are you going to stay?"
"I'm looking for someone," she explained, looking around for her greeter. "Someone who's dead."

"Well, looking for someone who's living would be a waste of your time, eh?" they laughed dryly. "This is the underworld, after all."

"I was led over here by Charon, but where's Cerberus?" she asked. The voice rasped in laughter.

"You'll just have to look through all the doors, won't you?"

"I don't have time, though," Hermione said impatiently, stamping her foot. "He's already been dead for two hours, two hours more and I won't be able to find him. Is he here?"

"Who?"

"Draco, Draco Malfoy."

"There is no Draco Malfoy who died recently behind this door, check the others. Come back to visit, Hermione."

"I will," she promised. She opened the Gate, and nearly died of shock. The room of portals was so cold compared to the sun portal…

She moved to open the next door over, this time the door knob was silver. It was the moon Gate. She opened the door and stepped into darkness.

A/N: Okay, everyone leave a review, please!