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Chapter Seven

She shouldn't have been surprised, but she was. The Malfoy mansion was utterly humongous. It was at least three stories high and was sitting on millions of acres. The house was a grayish color and it looked everything of what a rich family's house should be. Hermione wished she had this kind of money, but knowing how a rich family liked the Malfoys act, she didn't want to be that rich. She'd be too much of a snob.

Walking a little closer and stopping at the gate, Hermione hesitated. She wasn't sure what to expect. What of Malfoy's father was there and he caught her here at his house, apparently here without an invitation? Then that would probably be the end of Hermione's walking on Earth free.

"So, you've finally come. I was wondering when you were going to come," a voice to the side of her said.

Hermione turned and saw that it was Malfoy leaning against the nearest tree, his shaggy blond hair flopping slightly into his eyes. She figured he was trying to impress her and rolled her eyes at him. Malfoy sighed and straightened, pushing his hair away from his face.

"I'll never gain your acceptance, will I?" Malfoy stated.

"From the way things are looking right now, probably not," Hermione said coolly.

"Oh, so hateful. One would wonder," Malfoy said, grinning.

"You better watch it, Malfoy, or I'll take back about letting you go and have Harry deal with you," Hermione said.

"Fine. Whatever floats your boat there, Hermione," Malfoy exclaimed.

Hermione chose to ignore him and opened the gate and took several steps foreword and took a look around. Everything was so typical of Malfoy. No wonder he was so arrogant during their school years.

Turning around, she saw that Malfoy had followed her and was now leaning up against the gate.

"So is your father home?" Hermione asked.

"Nope, he's out on business," Malfoy replied.

"I see. And your mother?"

"On vacation. Why this interrogation?" Malfoy asked.

"I just don't want to run into your family's bad side, is all. Is that a problem?" Hermione exclaimed.

"I guess not," Malfoy said.

"I don't even know why you invited me here. We hated each other during our school days and now…now you're acting like we've been friends this whole entire time and that we only had a misunderstanding," Hermione stated, feeling her frustrations build.

Malfoy sighed. "Come inside, and I've got to tell you something. Something that has happened since Hogwarts and you'll understand. Plus, it's getting hot out here."

"Malfoy, I can't take anymore of this bull crap of yours," Hermione complained, but Malfoy was already walking toward his house, not glancing back to give Hermione a second chance. She sighed and hurried after him. This had better be good, or she'd bite her tongue.

Going inside, Malfoy headed towards the left down a hall. Hermione followed after him, wondering what the heck was going on. As she walked, she looked around her. The mansion sort of looked like Sirius Black's old house, only with different colors and decorations. But there was no doubt that the two were familiar. So the rich DID have similar tastes.

Finally stopping outside a closed door, Malfoy turned towards Hermione. He looked grim. With such a face, Hermione was beginning to feel uneasy. Somehow there was going to be something behind that door that she wasn't going to like at all whatsoever.

"This is where my father tortures prisoners of war," Malfoy told her and Hermione grimaced, "the Dark Lord entrusted my father to do this and this room is where he tortured Harry."

"What?" Hermione asked, surprised. "But, Voldemort had…I mean…"

"I know," Malfoy said quietly, "but that story's all a stage. It was a phony. He staged it so people would lose hope, so that the Dark Lord could swiftly take control of the wizarding world—and eventually, the world. All the Dark Lord had done was knock Harry unconscious and made it look Harry was dead and then had ordered my father to bring him here, to this chamber, and torture him until Harry gave away all of his secrets. But it didn't work and somehow Harry had escaped and that's how you found him the other day."

Hermione felt weak. She felt herself stumble and leaned against the wall to steady keep herself from falling. So that was where Harry had been all this time, when everybody thought he was dead. What kind of torture did he go through? Suddenly, Hermione wanted to rush back to her apartment and talk to Harry, to have him tell her the story of what had happened, then maybe, just maybe she could help the Order, help all the innocents from being killed…

Malfoy glanced at Hermione curiously. "Are you ready to go in and see what your friend has gone through?"

Hermione nodded weakly. "Better now than later, as I always say."

Malfoy quietly nodded and swung the door open. Hermione straightened and walked shakily towards the door. Stepping inside, she gasped. It wasn't at all what she was expected. It was like one of those torture rooms from the Middle Ages that she had always read about. There was a machine that stretched your limbs until you thought you were going to break; there were whips of all kinds, and then there was the wizard things, tanks filled with strange animal beings and other things that Hermione couldn't even begin to fathom. What was it like here, being tortured, never knowing when you were going to die?

Hermione turned to look at Malfoy who had followed in after her.

"Why are you showing me all of this? Why are you telling me all these things about what happened to Harry?" Hermione demanded, fear rising within her.

"Because I believe Harry is in terrible danger right now, and we need to help him, before it's too late, before he gets killed. I'm sorry for all that I've done and I want this to go towards my repentance," Malfoy answered calmly.

Walking closer to him, Hermione grasped his shoulder and looked deep into his eyes. Now she was getting somewhere, maybe.

"Tell me, Malfoy," Hermione breathed, "tell me everything. I want to help him."

"I—" Malfoy began.

"Well, Draco, I see that you have befriended a Mudblood," a cold voice said behind them. "We're going to have to change that, aren't we, son?"

Looking over Malfoy's shoulder, Hermione felt her blood go cold. It was Lucius Malfoy, and it looked like Hermione was cornered with no way to escape.

Author's Note: Sorry for the lack of updating, but as always, my common excuse is that school, my part-time job, and the wish of reading and watching movies is taking up my time. And once again, I ask you for your forgiveness and I will repay you with a couple more chapters this weekend, if not during the week, when I have a lot of time considering its Spring break. I'm truly loving this story as of now because now I know somewhat where it's going after halfway through this story (or maybe perhaps toward the end, I'll fathom it later). So with due respect, I hope you've enjoyed this chapter and I promise I'll punch out a couple more chapters before the week's end. Thanks to those who have reviewed and I hope you continue reading.