Hermione woke up suddenly, her body shooting straight into a sitting position in her bed. She was sweating, and her hair was matted against her skin. She put her hand on her forehead and tried to calm her breathing.
She frowned. "Not another nightmare," she moaned, climbing out of bed. The events of that trial three years ago still haunted her, though the last scene of Malfoy casting a curse on her had been added by her own fearful dreams. Not a day went by when she didn't think about that day and remember Malfoy's eyes gleaming with rage, his hot breath on her neck.
She rarely spoke of it with Ron or Harry. Ron always over-simplified the matter by saying "Don't worry, the git deserved it. He won't be back." Maybe he was right, but turning something that bothered her so much into something so simple and unworthy of thought irritated Hermione. Harry, on the other hand, would probably listen to her and try to genuinely ease her mind if she ever talked to him about it. But since Harry had killed Voldemort two years ago, he had been so happy and carefree. She just couldn't bring herself to cause him any worry over things from the past.
Hermione fixed herself a cup of tea and sat down at her kitchen table. She lived in the wizarding world now, and had grown accustomed to the lack of technology. Her parents visited often, though they were always quite eager to return to their own home, where they had television and telephones.
But Hermione herself had many ties to this world now. Her closest friends were here, as well as her promising career as an Auror. She became one only months before the defeat of Voldemort, and at first had thought her job would become useless. However, there were many crimes to be committed in the wizarding world that did not necessarily involve the dark lord. And there were also several Voldemort-supporters left roaming around that had to be dealt with. Hermione found her days filled with things to do, and told herself that she had to keep her head on straight, had to keep focused on the here and now, instead of that awful trial years ago.
She showered after finishing her tea, skipped breakfast and pulled on her robes and cloak. She locked the front door before leaving for the Ministry. She always walked to work, since she lived fairly close by and had never been overly fond of travelling by broomstick. It also gave her a chance to get some fresh air and fully wake up before beginning her day at work.
She was met at the door of the Ministry by Ron, who stood leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. His face was dark, his eyes narrowed. He rarely looked this way, only when they were given a very serious case, or when someone had been hurt. "What's wrong?" she asked, stopping beside him.
"I wanted to tell you myself… didn't want you to hear it from someone else."
She blinked. "Tell me what?" She suspected that they had been assigned some horrible case that would require a lot of work or danger. She and Ron almost always worked together on their cases, as he was an Auror as well.
He walked a few steps away from the door, and motioned for her to follow.
"What's going on?" she asked, trailing behind him until they had rounded a corner.
He reached into the pocket of his robes and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He reached it to Hermione wordlessly. She clutched the worn parchment in her hands, fingers white and trembling against the brown paper. Dark eyes roamed over the words several times, making absolutely sure that what she was reading was real. She looked up. Her voice had failed her, though her eyes were asking "Is this true?!"
Ron looked disturbed. "I just… thought you should know before… before anything happens."
Hermione's voice returned. "Before what happens?! Before he hunts me down and kills me?!"
Ron took the paper back. "Before you end up getting assigned to bring him back in," he said firmly, "Not that I'm sure you will, but it's a possibility. Look, I know the guy gives you the creeps ever since that incident, but you're an Auror now. He's not stupid enough to attack an Auror."
"Oh, the incident. The incident you absolutely refused to take seriously! The incident where Draco Malfoy told a room full of people that he'd come back to kill me someday! Well, now he's escaped! Don't you think I have a right to be worried?!"
Ron stared at her. "Hermione… please don't get upset. Yes, you have every right to be worried, but we're not going to let anything happen to you. It's been three years, he probably forgot all about that promise! And besides, when has Malfoy ever been known for backing up his threats?"
Hermione was still breathing hard. "When has Malfoy been known for completely losing it in front of a crowd of people?"
"Point taken."
Hermione took the parchment back from Ron and scanned it again. "So how did he do it? The notice doesn't say."
"No one's sure yet," Ron told her, "They figure he had outside help. Always had a bunch of lackeys, remember?"
Hermione nodded. Suddenly her head was spinning. Why did this have to happen? How in the world had he managed to escape? She was dizzy, so she pressed her hand against the stone wall for support. Pink fingernails clashed with gray.
Ron leaned toward her. "Hey, are you okay?"
She stepped back, ignoring the nausea sweeping over her. "I'm fine. I have to… I have to…"
Suddenly Hermione felt as if she were all alone in a dark box. Everything was black and silent. She couldn't even hear her own voice. She reached out her hands, unable to see them, and began trying to touch something, anything to let her know that she wasn't completely, utterly alone. When nothing could be found, she fell to her knees. She was shivering without being cold. She had no wand, she couldn't even feel the clothes on her body. It was only her, and the darkness.
In the next second, she opened her eyes again to find herself back at the Ministry. Ron's hands were firm on her shoulders, shaking her. "Hermione! What happened?!"
She looked up at him, then around the area. "I… don't know. I think I blacked out."
Ron released her. "Does this happen a lot?"
She rubbed her forehead. She was almost afraid to blink, afraid to find herself back in that empty place again. "Occasionally. I used to do it a lot right after… the incident. But I stopped after about a year."
"After about the time Voldemort was killed," Ron said, "Well, a lot of people were suddenly feeling better after that. You think Malfoy's escape is causing them now?"
"Probably."
Ron looked around, to make sure no one of importance was near. "Look, why don't you take the day off? I'll say I never saw you come in today. Just go home and get some rest. Or better yet, go visit Ginny. You probably shouldn't be alone, and she loves company. How about it?"
Hermione hesitated, then nodded. "All right. I'll go see her. Could you use the fireplace and let her know I'm coming? I hate to drop in so suddenly on her."
Ron smiled. "Ginny doesn't mind, but I'll do it anyway. Oh, and after work, let's go see Harry at Hogwarts. I think he should know about all this too, don't you?"
"Yeah. Well, I'm off then."
Ron watched her out the door, then headed for the fireplace.
Hermione was walking toward her home. She wanted to change out of her work robes and into something more comfortable. Then she would use floo powder to go to Ginny's house. On her way, she wondered whether or not she should tell Ginny about her black-outs. She knew she could trust the girl, but Hermione got shudders just thinking about that dark, lonely place. Talking about it was even worse.
There was a shrub bed right outside her house. She heard a rustle in it, and turned around. "Crookshanks? Did you get out?" she asked, paused in front of her door. She almost leaned over to investigate the sound, but thought better of it and reached into her robes for her keys. She unlocked her door, opened it, and was inside the door before she felt arms around her waist.
The owner of the arms was behind her, and gripping her tightly. Turning around was made impossible. She struggled against the arms, clawing at the exposed white skin of hands peeping out from beneath long dark sleeves. Finally, blood was drawn and the arms released her.
Hermione dashed further into her house, desperate to put some distance between her and the other person. She then whirled around. Draco Malfoy was standing in her doorway, examining his injured hands. He looked different, with his shoulder-length, messy hair and thinner-than-usual skin. But he was still impossible to mistake. Dark silver eyes glared at her. "You cut me, you Mudblood bitch."
Hermione backed away from him until she hit the wall. Her wand was in her robes, but how fast could she draw it? Did he have a wand? Was it easier to draw than hers? She told herself to calm down and try to learn more about the situation. She could panic later. "How did you find me?" she asked, her voice quivering.
"Oh, please. Like I would have any trouble with that. You're not in hiding, Granger."
Hermione watched him with unblinking eyes. She had to note every move, every word, if she hoped to get out of this alive. She was a firm believer that learning everything you can will always lead you to better results. "How did you escape?"
Malfoy had shut the door and locked it behind him. Her keys had fallen to the floor, so he picked them up and shoved them into his pocket. "Do you honestly think I'd tell you that?"
Hermione's mind was racing. What could she do? She couldn't die here, at Malfoy's hands. Maybe she could buy a little time! Ginny was expecting her, so surely she would alert Ron after a certain amount of time, and he would head straight over to check on her. Thank God she lived so close to the Ministry. After that, it would be two against one. Malfoy wouldn't have a chance.
"Malfoy… I'm sorry. Really, I shouldn't have went to Dumbledore that night without getting your side of the story! I was just scared! I thought you were trying to hurt Harry! Please… let me go to the Ministry and tell them I was confused that night! I'll tell them anything to get them to release you officially!"
Malfoy frowned at her, then quickly closed the distance between them, and before Hermione could react, he had punched her in the face so hard that she was thrown to the floor. "Shut up! You're a liar and a conniving little Mudblood! You'll say anything to save yourself! You think I'm that stupid? You think I'm going to let you just walk right out of here and to the Ministry?"
Hermione pulled herself to a sitting position on the floor and rubbed her cheek. "Okay… okay… I'm sorry. That was a bad idea. What do you want me to do? Just tell me what I can do to make it up to you."
Malfoy laughed, and Hermione was surprised that it was the same laugh he had in school. Somewhat high-pitched and very menacing. "I'll tell you what you can do. You can die a slow, bloody, painful death!"
Hermione's mind was thinking Slow? Slow is good. Slow gives me time. Malfoy doesn't know Ginny is expecting me. Good, take your time.
Malfoy was sneering at her, his pale lips widening into a creepy grin. "Do you have any idea how much planning and thought I've put into this? Three years' worth! That's how much time you've stolen from me. You sent me to Azkaban, effectively ruining what was left of my life. Apparently you and Potter weren't satisfied with my father rotting away in prison and my mother hanging herself in her bedroom. So you came up with a good plan, didn't you? Frame me for using the Dark Arts and then sending me off to join my father!"
Hermione's jaw dropped. "Frame?! What are you talking about?!"
Malfoy crouched in front of her. "Don't pretend to be stupid. You may be a Mudblood, but you have some common sense floating around in there somewhere. I know what you did! It may have taken me a year in Azkaban to figure it out, but now I know you, Potter, and Weasley had this whole thing planned from start to finish!"
Hermione was trying to scoot farther away from him. The whole left side of her face was throbbing. "I swear, I have no idea what you're talking about! Harry and Ron had nothing to do with this! The only thing I know is that you were standing in that circle holding your wand and-"
Draco put his hand over her mouth. "Stop right there! That wasn't my wand!"
Hermione stared at him, unable to speak. Her eyes were wide and shocked. What did all of this mean? Was Malfoy telling the truth? Was he really innocent, or was he simply playing a very clever trick on her? Perhaps he wanted her to feel extreme guilt as well as the pain of the death he planned for her. But if he was telling the truth… then she had truly ruined his life. How could she live with herself after this, even if Ron were to show up and help her overpower Malfoy?
A tear leaked from Hermione's eye and landed on Malfoy's hand. He pulled it back and glared at her. "Don't even try faking innocence!"
She looked up to find Malfoy digging around through her house. "Where are your scissors?" he asked, looking through a kitchen drawer.
Hermione saw this as a wonderful opportunity. "They're in my bedroom, in the third dresser drawer down."
Malfoy stepped hurriedly to the next room. Hermione scrambled to her feet and reached into her robes. She pulled out her wand and readied a spell in her mind. She aimed at the doorway to her bedroom. This would be absolutely perfect! Malfoy would come strolling out of the bedroom and be caught completely off-guard! Hermione could hex him and simply be done with the matter.
A few minutes passed, and Hermione heard the distinct sound of hair being snipped. Malfoy reappeared with slightly shorter, jaw-line length hair. She mentally laughed at his still-present vanity. When he laid eyes on the wand, he stopped dead in his tracks. "What are you doing?" he asked.
"I believe I'm pointing my wand at you. Goodbye, Malfoy!"
Hermione opened her mouth to speak the spell, but Malfoy spoke before she could. "So you're going to keep it up? You're going to ruin my life, then kill me?"
Hermione froze. "I… I'm not going to kill you… I'm just going to stun you until I can contact the Ministry."
"Oh, yes, just send me back to Azkaban so I can spend the rest of my years rotting away while you enjoy your life out here."
Hermione stared at him. She wished more than anything that she had the ability to read minds right now. If only she knew if he was telling the truth, she would make it her life's goal to clear his name. After all, she was directly responsible for this mess. But if he was lying… he would take her wand away from her the instant she let her guard down.
He was staring at her, his expression somewhere between anger and disbelief. He opened his mouth, and spoke slowly. "Do you have any idea what it was like in there? It was completely dark, no light. They kept me in confinement… I was alone twenty-four hours a day! You sent me there, and now you're going to send me back!"
Hermione's hand was trembling, and the wand wavered. The way he described Azkaban, it sounded just like her blackouts. She had no way of proving it to him, but she did understand. She knew exactly what he was talking about. Could she really send him back, after knowing all of this? And if she didn't, she'd have to spend the rest of her life looking over her shoulder.
She was staring at Malfoy, but his face was becoming blurry. She was getting dizzy again, and a sudden terror hit her. She was going to black out. She'd drop her wand, Malfoy would kill her, and she'd never wake up from that nightmare. She opened her mouth. She wanted to stun Malfoy, to at least give herself more time to awaken after blacking out, but her voice was soundless. The last thing she could see was Malfoy's face.