Hello everyone! Sorry this one's late again as well… I apologize! Please don't hate me. I will continue updating, but I have a lot of things going on right now and I don't have any time to write! Anyway, this chapter is a little short, but Draco appears again! Doesn't that make you happy?
Oh well. Read and enjoy!
Chapter 7
The sound of tinkling echoed down the drafty corridor.
Four eyes flickered towards the direction of the sound, blinked, and returned forward.
Draco cursed fluently under his breath.
Reaching out tentatively for the vial that had slipped from his grasp, a shiver ran through him as the vial moved from his touch, though he couldn't see his hand. As he slipped it into his pocket, the shimmer of the green liquid disappeared and it seemed to vanish. He peered around the corner of the brick wall, though no one saw him.
He crept silently to the warlock's side, careful not to attract his attention. Ever so slowly, he unscrewed the cap to his hipflask, and dribbled a small amount of the contained liquid through the nozzle, and screwed the cap back on. He held his breath and slowly backed away, trying not to touch him so that he wouldn't attract any attention.
He skulked closer to the second warlock, and almost made it to his side without a sound. His shoe suddenly clicked on a sharp cobblestone, and he gasped loudly. He swore the warlocks' eyes had flashed at him, as if he could see past his spell, but the warlock resumed his position and looked away.
Draco released the breath he had been holding and slowly prowled closer to the second warlock. He proceeded to drop the potion slowly into the flask, and proceeded to tighten the cap on the nozzle. Until his hand slipped.
He wretched his hand away as the warlock's hand came suddenly quickly down to his flask, intent on capturing Draco's hand. He flew back as the warlock's gnarled hand clawed out in the direction of the sound of Draco's movements, but Draco flew against a wall and stayed put, not allowing him any sound to follow.
The warlock grunted, returning to his position, but never removing his eyes from the spot were Draco stood. Finding his flask unscrewed, he took a drink, and wiped his mouth on the sleeve of his cloak. The other warlock followed his example, though he let the access water trickle down his carved face.
Strong, but ignorant, Draco sighed, and was caught off guard as the warlock's eyes blinked and focused exactly at his face.
Draco's eyes widened and he started to breathe heavily, very frightened at the fact that he could be seen. He looked down at his hands, and yelped, as the invisibility seemed to be melting off of them as the pale color of his skin appeared. The second he looked up he was grabbed at the throat and held several feet up in the air.
The warlock bared his yellow teeth as he slammed Draco into the wall. He felt his spine bruise and his conscious slip away slowly as the blood drained from his face. His eyes rolled back in his head as his mouth gasped for the air his throat was unable to grasp, and he felt his mind slowly begin to shut down…
And he was unexpectedly released from his grasp and he fell to the floor in an indecorous heap wheezing for air. He lifted his eyes only part way and found the warlock snoring at his feet, and only had time to gape fearfully as the second warlock lunged at him. He ducked and covered his head, praying to Merlin that he didn't die …
He, too, fell to the floor, on top of the other warlock, snores ripping from his open mouth.
Draco closed his eyes and dropped his head against the wall behind him, discharging a mouthful of air.
I hope this isn't more trouble than it's worth.
He sat up and began to fumble with the cloth shrouding the warlocks until he produced a metal ring of keys. They clanked and clattered against each other as he tried to find which one fit into the keyhole of the cell door he was trying to unlock. Finally, he heard an affirmative click, twisted the handle, and yanked open the door.
He looked apprehensively around the door, afraid of what he might find.
Whatever he was expecting, this wasn't it.
"Oh, Circe…"
*
A tingling sensation began to run through the tips of her fingers and her toes, and she deemed it time to get her blood running through her skin again.
She sat up quickly, and soon regretted it. The blood drained out of her head, and she cradled her forehead in her hands. "Oh…" she sighed, rubbing her eyes, wishing silently the world would stop spinning. Her head slowly began to clear as she felt movement to her left.
Looking down, a small smile crossed her face. Snape slept on, shivering softly. She swept her own blankets over him, praying that he didn't shiver out of fever. She placed a tender hand on his forehead, and sighed with relief.
"I suppose your body is healthy enough to heal itself; you don't seem to have a fever," she said to him, even though she knew he couldn't hear her. She swept the strand of raven hair out of his face with a light touch, her eyes fluttering over his features. He didn't look nearly as stressed now as he did when he was awake. The lines melted back into his skin, and his expression was nowhere near angry or confused or frightened; all of which she had seen that day in Hogsmeade. He seemed very… relaxed.
She suddenly wondered how many people had seen him asleep. Maybe they wouldn't think him such an awful person if they knew it really was an act. The question startled her somewhat, and she shook it away. Why should she care?
A sudden screech of the door on the floor resonated around the chamber and it made Hermione jump.
She whipped her head towards the door and recoiled her hand swiftly, but not quick enough for the person on the other side of the door.
"Oh Circe…"
She barely caught a glimpse and she knew immediately who it was. The pale tone of the skin, the cool, gray, transparent eyes, gleaming blonde hair. "Malfoy!" The door slowly began to pull closed; Malfoy's eyes grew wide with fear. "No, Wait!"
She tried to jump to her feet, but she found herself stumbling towards the door instead of walking. "Wait, please!" she cried, her feet aching with the sudden weight as she slowly made her way faltering to the door. "Don't leave!"
The door slammed as her fingers grazed the wood, and she fell upon the cool doorframe, tears streaming from her eyes. "Please, Draco… don't leave yet! Please help us!" she sobbed through the door.
She could feel Draco slump himself against the other side of the door. "Oh Merlin…"
"Professor Snape is very sick… they'll kill him if he doesn't get out of here soon. I understand you hate me," he whimpered, "but don't take it out on him. Please, bring him some food, Draco… he'll die…"
He buried his head in his arms. "I can't, I can't…"
"Please…"
He leapt up from his seat as if fire had sprouted from under the door. "I can't!" he shouted at the closed door, "I can't!"
Hermione fell down next to the door and cried openly into her arms. "Oh Draco, please don't do this…"
But he hadn't heard her. He quickly made a copy of the master key, dropped the key ring onto the warlock, and ran back down the drafty corridor.
Hermione jumped up out of frustration and ran back over to her makeshift bed, and sat down swiftly, lying down and curling herself into a ball, sobbing. They had a chance to escape and Draco was being a bloody bastard!
Snape took a deep breath and began to stir behind her. "Hermione?" he asked groggily, propping himself up on his good arm, "What's going on?"
She didn't reach out to find his hand and answer him, and he had to resort to touch to find her. "Hermione?" he said more urgently, "Where are you?"
He extended an unsteady hand out slowly and made contact with the curls of her hair, and felt her body quiver and her chest heave as he touched her shoulder. "Are you all right? Why are you crying?"
She took a deep breath and forced herself to calm down, and took his hand. I'm fine. Homesick, she lied.
"We'll get out of this soon," he replied softly.
Hermione sighed, feeling very sorry for herself. She wondered what Harry and Ron were doing at the present moment. Probably sitting by the fire, playing chess, wondering what gifts they were going to receive for Christmas. She wondered if they missed her, or if they had even noticed she wasn't there.
She knew they couldn't have forgotten about her just yet, and she also realized her current mentality was going to get her nowhere. But as much as she tried, she couldn't help it. She was steadily growing more and more tired of the cold draft that had settled into the room and the pounding of her head. She groaned as pain shot through her stomach. If she and Snape didn't eat soon, they would both die of starvation.
"Oh Ron," she whispered, "if only you were here to bicker with…"
"Check."
Harry's eyes flickered up to Ron's face, but his face remained stationary, cradled in his hand. He moved his king to another position as Ron surveyed the board. "Hey, Ron," Harry started.
Ron moved his rook next to Harry's piece again. "Check." He shifted his legs and sat back in his armchair, "What?"
Harry moved his piece to accommodate to Ron's move again. "Tell me why you bother asking me to play when you know you always win."
Ron moved again. "Check."
"Why not save you time and me aggravation in just agreeing that you win automatically?" Harry moved closer to a corner.
Ron moved again. "Check."
Harry placed his piece on a black square. "Just a thought."
"Checkmate." Ron's face grew triumphant for a second as he stretched his arms above his head.
Harry sighed and magicked the pieces back into the underside of the box. "Gee, well, it's not like that's never happened before," he said sarcastically.
Ron smirked. "Yes, well, I'm just a chess magician. Can't fight with that."
"Obviously not."
"Hey, just because you don't understand the subtle art that is chess, doesn't mean you have to shun the rest of the world. At least Hermione knew how to…"
Harry slowly looked up and found Ron staring dejectedly at the floor. "Ron-" he started.
"Wish she was here," he said quietly, a small smile touching his face before he turned his head to focus on something else in the room to keep the tears from coming to his eyes.
"Ron, I-"
Ron looked mechanically at him, "You know, I'm going to go to the dorm for a while," he muttered, and began heading for the stairs. "Come warn me when you're going down to dinner, all right?"
"I…" Harry trailed off, meaning to say something comforting, but nothing really came to mind. "Alright."
He sighed as Ron walked away, magicking the pieces under the board to clean up. If only you could see him now, Hermione… You'd see how he never hated you…
Draco slammed his bedroom door shut as a stream of curses issued from his mouth. Of course it would be the mudblood! How could he have been so stupid?
Of course his father wouldn't want him down there; Dumbledore had always seemed as if he questioned his father's loyalty. The old professor might question him back at school, and quite possibly make Draco take a truth potion. He wouldn't believe that Draco and seen one of his fellow classmates in the dungeon of his father's mansion and just failed to mention it to someone…
And Snape. He'd known for a while that his father had suspected him to be a spy. His own father had warned him to stay away, unbeknownst to him that he was planning to take care of it later on. Obviously by torturing him to death.
Granger was another story, though. His father had only shown partial interest in her before now, asking how she faired with her grades, and how she had interacted with Draco.
Naturally, Draco had made her sound worse than she actually was, but said nothing horrible enough to get his father angry. As far as Draco was concerned, there was no reason for his father to go after innocent people such as her.
"Damn," he muttered, slamming his hand on his dresser, watching as the objects upon it rattled.
He knew that if Dumbledore discovered where Snape
had been taken, he would have the Ministry of Magic at his father's door in no
time. His father had crafty ways of
hiding things he didn't want the Ministry to find, but Draco doubted that he
could find a way of concealing both Snape and Granger at the same time.
And what had Granger
said? Snape was sick?
He ran a hand nervously through his hair. He wasn't sure how long they would survive, with one of them sick and both of them starved and dehydrated. If they both died, whether from torture or sickness, his father had no way of hiding anything of that extent.
Draco sighed heavily and ceased his pacing for a moment. There was only one thing that he could do to try and keep his father out of Azkaban.
He closed the door behind him as he left his chamber.
After relieving herself in the bathroom, Hermione sat and watched as Snape paced the small dungeon.
Without food, both of their bodies were slowly losing energy. She felt her body grow weaker, and prayed silently that her body would survive a little while longer. The rage that she felt towards Draco she kept at a minimal level to keep from going insane. She also pondered of ways to escape, all of them too bizarre to even consider. Her mind didn't work as well without proper supply of food and water.
"Hermione?"
Snape's hoarse voice interrupted her thoughts and startled her.
He had paused at a wall and leaned himself heavily against it. She lifted herself off the floor and took his hand. What?
He paused, as if considering what to say next. "Are there any…" he hesitated, "facilities in this chamber?"
Oh God, she thought as her stomach dropped, kill me now…
Poor Hermione… wish her luck everyone! She's going to need it…
Hope you guys liked that one… I don't know what to think of it.
As always, review!
~Shorty