A week later you woke up and looked around confused. You were always a little out of it when you first woke up.. not because of nightterrors or anything, you could easily block those out ever since your retched training took place, but because you rarely slept well just because you were always restless and kicking in your sleep. One time Betty came in to put a warmer under your pillow in the middle of the night but you accidentally kicked her in her lopsided face and knocked her out cold. You laughed for 20 minutes straight.
Groggily you got up and traipsed your way to the bathroom and took a shower. You went back to your room and got dressed and chanced a glance in the mirror. Luckily all the bruises and marks on your face were healed. A couple on your stomach and ribs still hurt a little when you turned the wrong way but those wouldnt be noticable anyways. You got completely ready and went out to the dining table expecting to see 'him' there but nobody but Betty, who was hovering in a corner, was present. You inwardly sighed and let out a breath. It was so much more comforting being alone and away from all of ... i them /i . Some you enjoyed talking to sure, because they had most of the same values that you held so dear, but some of them were just plain incompetant and you found it hard to beleive that "The Dark Lord" would choose to be associated with such dimwits.
Take the Crabbe's and Goyle's. Not only are the parents morons, but they definately bred rocks, not humans, because they were obviously not capable of rational thought. Then there was the Malfoys.. Lucius, well you already knew about him. Narcissa, never talked, but merely did everything Lucius or the Dark Lord told her to do, whilst looking prim and proper. However, she always had that look on her face like she just walked through a garbage dump rather than sitting at the Dark Lords fine dining table. Maybe she was born like that... hmm. The son, Draco, hadn't been accepted into being a full fledged death eater yet, he was still in training or something. Your guess was that he was going to be too chicken to actually go through with getting the Dark Mark branded into his skin like people brand cattle. Which is basically what he was doing... somehow it seemed ironic to think that tagged cattle only end up in the slaughter house but you pushed this thought to the back of your mind as you approached the Dark Lord's room once again.
When you entered you had a quick and curt conversation with him and he gave you the list, the key, and the weightless bag. He reitterated what you needed to do but failed to give you a list of instructions (so you couldnt lose it and risk everyone fiding EVERYTHING out), so you had to remember it all by yourself. On the battered list of things he needed, there were the stores that you could get them from, and people that you needed to talk to to get certain items that were very restricted, even to the usual bottom dwellers that lurked far away from Diagon Alley, in the depths of Knockturn Alley.
After completing all of the treacherous things you had to go through to get to Hogsmeade, you finally arrived, a little disheveled from all the travelling but all in all, whole and thrilled to be away from that house. The only glitch in getting here was when you got to the doorman with the red diamond around his neck, you completely forgot what to say. You racked your brain.. what was it! When he refused to let you in because you didnt have the password you pulled out your wand and muttered a very powerful spell that you really hadnt had the cause to use it for quite some time. After kicking his writhing body to the side you opened the door revealing a large fireplace. Bingo.
You appeared to be in some sort of wand shop... this was definately not where you were supposed to be. The man that supposedly owned the shop looked at you strangely as you dusted the ashes off yourself and proceeded to walk out of his shop. Apparently most people chose to floo to a different part of Diagon alley. Now.. firstly.. what was it? Oh yes, Gringotts. You walked out of the store and with a chink of the bell on the door as it closed, you looked left and right. Too bad he hadnt given you a map, what did he think you were, some sort of compass? This is ridiculous. You could just ask someone.. but then there might be strange questions like, i 'Why dont you know where Gringotts is? I thought every Hogwarts student knew where it was! You do go to Hogwarts dont you? --no-- What, why not? Where do you go to school? --I dont.-- What why not? Are you some sort of criminal? --Uh...-- THERES A PRISONER ON THE LOOSE SOMEONE QUICK!' /i
Okay, maybe it wouldnt end up like that, but you never knew, you had a right to be paranoid. You set off to the left, looking in each of the seperate shops... Quidditch... joke shop... Three Broomsticks.. ahh where was it? Oh.. look at that.. a bookstore. You walked into a quiet and cozy looking bookstore that was filled with children ranging from around 10 to 18 or so, most likely Hogwarts students off getting their supplies for the upcoming year. What a bunch of morons. Didn't they know they were all doomed anyways so what was the point of spending their precious money on schoolbooks and quills! The end was near! The war was already in the making! Fools! Scatter whilst you can! Okay, so maybe you were i too /i paranoid.
You walked over to a seemingly empty row of dusty books that looked like they had no business being in there in the first place. Your guess was noone would buy these books as they looked like they had been on these forgotten shelves for a hundred years. You picked up one of the more dusty versions but couldnt even read the title on the front because the book was in such disarray. You assumed that the bookkeeper would at least take better care of some of the books he was supposedly trying to sell, but apparently not. You turned around, realized you had already wasted enough time in this haven for schoolgoers, and it was hightime you found Gringotts when you stumbled over something quite solid and went crashing down to the floor landing flat on your face. This was getting out of hand, at this rate there was always going to be a bruise or something on your face. Apparently you were a little too danger-prone for your own good.
You looked down to see a frazzled bunch of brown hair that was obviously attatched to head. Although, it was so massive! How could anyone have so much hair and not have been swollowed whole by it by now! Wait a minute, this insolent idiot tripped you!
"You might want to be more careful on where you park yourself here frizzball" You muttered turning around and facing the young witch that was getting to her feet as well and brushing off her pleated skirt and looking dissheveled.
"Oh dear! I am so sorry, please let me help you! Are you hurt? I am so dreadfully sorry!" She said holding out a pale, slender hand "I'm Hermione Granger."
-----
You froze. The book that was dusty and torn up dropped from your hands. It seemed like an eternity before it finally hit the ground with a loud thud that seemed to echo strangely in your ears. Hermione. Hermione Granger. Hermione granger was standing in front of you. Hermione Granger just talked to you, and you're staring at her like a maniac. Hermione Granger should die. KILL HERMIONE GRANGER!
"I'm.. uhh. I'm.. leaving.. I.. I have to.. I ... I really need to.. " you muttered trying your hardest not to pull out your wand and hex her bushy little head into oblivion.
i Dont kill her, dont kill her. Get your hand off your wand.. Don't hex her. Dont do it... control yourself /i You repeated over and over again in your head like a mantra.
"I'm really sorry for running into you like that, I was just getting down to reach for a book you see, I'd read most of the ones on the higher shelves and I..."
"I .. you... you should really watch where you're going. You could have.. I need..."
"Are you okay? You look a little ill, do you want me to get someone to help you? You should sit down, what did you say your name was?" She asked, her eyes filled with concern. Oh such concern in her eyes! Wasted! She knew nothing of you, your past, your missdoings, and here she was lending a helping, caring hand to someone who wished nothing more than to cut her filthy mudblood head open and drain her of every last ounce of blood!
"I didnt." You stated, agitated. Oh it was so hard not to hex her. She was so close! The pain she had brought upon the deatheaters and the Dark lord! The pain which had then been inflicted upon you in all their rage and misplaced anger. So close, but mustnt be doing that... Azkaban didn't seem fun in the least, not from what you had heard Lucius telling the Dark lord, no, far from it.
"Oh, well, umm..." She frowned, you were being less than pleasant to say the least but she was obviously a go-getter. Oh how you loathed go-getter's.
"If you'll excuse me, I really need to be.. DONT TOUCH ME!" You said loudly through clenched teeth as Hermione laid a gentle hand on you because she thought you were feeling ill. Oh yes, you were feeling ill alright, a filthy mudblood had just touched you. A thousand sweltering showers couldnt wash away the filth she had just bestowed upon your forearm. You heard Hermione jump back in fright at your loud outburst. Your eyes dimmed as your turned a piercing gaze upon her. This? This person in front of you.. so brittle and breakable, had brought such pain to the Dark Lord! You could snap her in two! No.. mustnt be doing that.
Just then a person approached behind you while you were giving Hermione a look of utmost loathing and she held a slightly confused, frightened look at you. She was probably thinking i 'Oh bother, oh deary, oh my, whatever is this young lass raising her voice for! And in a bookstore! I'm so confused. La la la.' /i Even your imaginary version of her was pissing you off. The floor board beneath you gave a creak as the sound of a hoarse voice rang in your ears.
"What the bloody hell is all this screaming about Hermione, I thought you didnt think talking above a whisper was allowed in your home, I mean bookstore." Came the voice behind you. You wheeled around to see a head covered in longish bright red hair. He was at least a head taller than you, and he was by far one of the most gangly people you had ever had the displeasure of meeting. He looked oddly familiar, your eyes narrowed again...a Weasley. Your hand clamped around the wand in your robe pocket so hard you were in danger of breaking it in two. You shouldve known, where there was the bush head, there was the poor exucse for a pureblood, part of one of the biggest bloodtraitor families youve heard about. You were seething now, it wouldnt be long before you either hexed everyone, including the rest of the innocent bystanders in the store, into oblivion, or passed out from lack of oxygen from holding your breathe so long. It seemed you were holding your breath without even realizing it. If you didnt know better, you would have sworn your eyes were red and there was steam coming from your ears.
" I wasnt the one screaming i Ronald /i , it was /i her /i ." She said giving you a look of partial dislike. Apparently screaming in a bookstore was something she held worthy of sending to Azkaban. Which reminded you, DONT hex them or you'll get sent there.
"Why was she screaming?" he said, his face distorting into a confused look as he looked at Hermione deep in thought, completely failing to acknowlage you were there.
"Well I don't know Ron, why dont you ask her!" Hermione said in a highpitched voice.
"Dont start with me again Hermione, you dragged us into this ruddy store, and now you're getting all-"
"Well you're the one who wanted to drag i me /i into that Quidditch shop AGAIN! Why dont you for once just think about someone besides yourself hmm?" She said whispering loudly as to not...wake the books?
"There you go again, calling me selfish! Who got you those new earrings for the new year coming up hmm? Who.. who got you.. who's a..." Ron blubbered on.
"Oh good one Ron, very nice, you're getting better every day! Why can't you just admit that I -"
"WILL YOU TWO SHUT UP?" Came a third voice, rounding behind Hermione, on the opposite side of the shelf that Ron entered from. A young man of about 16 or so looked upon the scene, slightly amused and slightly agitated. He looked weary and plagued. His messy brown hair fell lightly onto his forehead ad some lay on his round glasses. He brushed his hair aside in a quick stroke.
"You two are fighting whereever we go! Can you just give it a rest? Please?" He pleaded with them, but you tuned out. This was getting too much. The entire dreamteam was standing before you, with Potter, the ringleader, in tow. I Someone pinch me /i you thought as you watched in rapture at the young, lightly complected young man in front of you. Rapture at the thought of here, right here! Right now! In front of you, lay the three most saught after students by Death Eaters and the Dark Lord alike! Right in a row, and here you were, being completely ignored. The person who would surely have the pleasure of ripping all of their heads off... The thoughtful, reasonable side of you was thrown completely out the window when Harry Potter had stepped into the scene. You clutched your wand even more tightly than before, if that was possible, and stepped towards him slowly, quietly, as to not alert him to your presense while he was bickering with Hermione and Ron over their constant quarreling. The floor board squeeked loudly and they all stopped and looked at you.
"Who's she?" Harry asked Ron, motioning to you with his thumb. You looked around... this was no time for stupid questions. Ron shrugged.
"I dunno... She was here when I got here when Hermione started jumping down my throat about-"
"I was not 'jumping' Ronald! I was merely-"
"WILL YOU TWO SHUT UP!" You were the one to yell this time. They fell silent, looking taken aback. Hermione and Ron started whispering to each other and Harry grinned.
"Youve seemed to have noticed.. they're always fighting.. I cant seem to-" You couldnt take it anymore. Harry Potter was mere feet away from you. You should be at Gringotts getting your money and getting on to Knockturn Alley.. but face it! What better chance would you ever get than now! You readied yourself and launched yourself upon him, catching him off guard and knocking him to the ground. He thrashed about, completely confused and unable to breathe well. You punched him in the face as hard as you could and brought your wand out and jabbed it roughly in his neck and grabbed a fistful of his hair with your other hand that was holding the wand. You were just about to scream 'the' curse when Hermione and Ron hurled themselves on you, causing the bookshelf to your immediate left to shake and wobble precariously on its edge, so very close to getting knocked over. Obviously you didnt think this out quite too well. Just as they were pushing and shoving you felt a large hand grasp your shoulder and lift you completely up. Hermione and Ron were so busy taking care of Harry and asking him what had caused you to do such a thing that they didnt notice you and the other person rush out of the shop and into a dark alley way where you apparated back to the house you could scarcely call a home.
"You are in tttrrrouubblleee" you heard the voice of the person who was holding you snicker as he stopped holding you so tightly but still managed to cling on as he dragged you the room you had no inclination to go to. Alas, it was inevitable.
"Let me go Malfoy!" You screamed as you tugged his arm away from you and he continued to chuckle darkly.
"Go run to your father Draco, thats all you're good for anyway" you growled as you walked the rest of your way to the Dark Lord's room, rubbing the spot on your arm where he had grabbed you harshly. If he hadnt came, you could have surely done some major damage, you had a right mind to blow him to smithereens as well. However, you knew the Dark Lord wouldn't be too happy about what you had done, seeing as though you could have jeapordized everyone finding out the Death Eaters were getting stronger and weren't afraid to attack out in the open. Whoops... but hey, it wasnt your fault persay, he was just so damn close, you lost control.
You opened the serpent-handled door to find the room chilly and drafty, and the chair was turned towards the fire.
"Have a little fun today, Raine? WHAT WERE YOU THINKING!" The voice got louder but the chair didn't turn. He wouldnt admit it but you knew he didn't like to show his snakelike face unless it was absolutely neccessary.
"HE WAS RIGHT THERE! You would have done the same thing!" You roared pointing an accusing finger in his direction, but he wasnt facing you so he didn't see it.
"I wouldn't have been in Diagon Alley, in a bookstore, that you werent supposed to be in in the first place. What you did could have ...you...the biggest threat to me and the Death Eaters alike! It would be one thing telling someone in that retched Order but to attack Harry Potter out in the open? Raine! Where was your reasoning! You attacked him in the middle of a crowded, wizard-infested bookstore! Do you have no tact?" He was talking somewhat quietly but the tone of his voice made you tremble slightly. This was the second time someone had called your tactless... i note to self: Stop being so tactless. /i
"I.. I ... I didn't think. I'm sorry, he was just right there and he has put us all through such torment and distress that I guess I just snapped. I.."
"Well you know you will have to be punished again, but also, I think I may be formulating a plan that you could be able to execute, as long as you dont screw up again. Go find Wormtail, he will be aware of your punishment. Leave me, I need to think this out, mustnt be having a half concocted scheme now..."
"Yes sir..." You said as you backed out of the room quickly. Well that hadnt actually been too bad.. Wormtail was going to issue your penalty, you could beat him to a pulp before he could even whisper 'pain'. Ha! The bad thing about being on the Dark Lord's side was that you could not only NOT trust the enemy, but you couldnt trust the people on your own side as well. Now, Wormtail you could handle... the only question left was... what was the Dark Lord plotting?