Here's your Christmas fix! Thanks to everyone who reviewed, I really appreciate everything, including the criticism, especially if it makes me think about what I'm writing in more detail. I've not updated everything, because most things are WIP and I have a life, however limited it may be, so stick with me and you might even get two updates this break! I hope you like this. Have a brilliant Christmas and New Year everyone. Istalindar
School passed on as it tended to do…Hermione knew everything, Snape took points, Harry and Ron spoke of nothing but quidditch, the name Sirius Black was avoided like the plague because Harry had a tendancy to go on a guilt trip if it was mentioned, Malfoy was a pain in the arse, but then Slytherin beat Gryffindor at Quidditch, Blaise was nice to Hermione and she was sure Malfoy had given up calling her mudblood.
"Hey, mudblood!"
Or maybe not.
"What do you want?" she asked. He caught up with her and walked next to her on the way to herbology.
"We've got to arrange the Halloween Ball, remember?"
"Well, I'm hardly going to do it on the way to herbology, am I?" Hermione snapped.
"Seems as good a time as any to me." Malfoy shrugged.
"Then you need to practise your timing." Hermione retorted.
"Make me." Hermione rolled her eyes. They always had arguments like this. It was beginning to be less bitchy then habit, it was almost their way of saying hello. Because unlike the rest of the civilised world, Malfoy had not yet realised that 'hi' would suffice.
During herbology, Hermione, for the most part, ignored the grins and winks Blaise was sending her way, and the gagging impressions by Malfoy that often followed. She liked Blaise…he was funny, nice, smart etc etc, but she didn't like like him. He was a good friend, but not a potential boyfriend, despite what had happened at Ginny's party. That was a drunken one-night stand, but when Hermione thought about it, there were worse people to lose your virginity to…like Malfoy. Or a sibling. Not that she had one, it wold just be a very bad and very gross thing to do.
After saving Neville from nearly being decapitated by the headless-horseman plant (a small pumkin-like plant that had a mini pumkin on top and had a little very sharp axe in its leafy hand) then nearly losing a finger stopping Malfoy from decapitating Harry, and she'd had enough. She was eternally thankful when the bell rang and she could run out of the greenhouse, mentally noting Sprout's instruction to make notes on Chapter Six, page 145 of the textbook. Having already done such notes, Hermione resolved to hand in the ready-made notes and smile gracefully.
Then she felt really dizzy, the world spun, and there was a flash of light then darkness.
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When Hermione revived, she was lying in a stone cell next to Blaise, who was working on raising himself into a sitting position, which wasn't as easy as it sounded because both his legs and his hands were tied. Hermione found herself in similar bonds and made an effort to sit up as well.
"Oh, you're awake then." Blaise commented.
"So it would seem. Where are we?" Hermione asked, looking around. Her search didn't yield much, just bare stone wall.
"Deatheater dungeon. Don't know how long we'll be here though."
"Why are we here?" Hermione asked.
"Because Voldemort's got his hands on a prophecy that says a child of Slytherin will ensure the Dark side's victory. They think they've narrowed the Slytherin down to me or Malfoy. You're not pregnant are you?" he asked, narrowing his eyes at her. The blood drained from her face.
"Shit." He commented.
"No, no. I'm not pregnant. I was…but I aborted it. I'm only seventeen, Blaise. I cant take care of a kid now!"
"Normally I'd be annoyed, but in this case, I'd forgive you. You may have just saved our skins."
"I don't understand." Hermione was completely confused. Supposedly all of Slytherin supported the Dark Lord, so surely both Malfoy and Blaise would be banging like rabbits to get the desired child of Slytherin.
"When they found out it was Malfoy or me, they told us to sleep around. And we did. But we, apart from that night with you, don't tend to have one-night stands. We give our women gifts…" he trailed off and gave Hermione a meaningful look, which she caught and understood. She nodded.
"We like to have a little class, at least." Blaise continued. "The prophecy didn't specify who it was that would birth the child, so the Dark Lord basically told us to be indiscriminate as to where we sowed our favours, so to speak." Hermione nodded again. "You-" he began, but was interrupted by the door being flung open.
"Bring them." A voice commanded, and deatheaters swarmed into the room, dragging Hermione and Blaise away.
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They came before a uge thrown set on a dais, that was party in shadow. They could see the knees and feet of the person sitting on the throne, but no more. Blaise and Hermione were pushed to their knees, Blaise bent his head, but Hermione kept hers up defiantly.
"So these are them." The person intoned. The voice sent shivers down Hermione's spine and she knew it was Him. "The sire and the woman who will bear the child." Something about the presence of Voldemort made Hermione was to cry and scream and lose hope completely. There was something to his voice, awe-inspiring and powerful that completely immobilised her. And there was the fact that he was near enough pure evil.
"You are pregnant, girl?" he demanded of her. She shook her head minutely, all she felt she could manage. "Answer me!"
"No." she said flatly. Someone struck her and she fell to the floor, but she resolutely pushed herself back up again. "No, I'm not pregnant."
"She lies." He hissed. Hermione raised her eyebrows, annoyed enough now to not be so scared.
"I do not. I think I'd know if I was pregnant or not better than you." Someone struck her again, harder, and when she hit the floor she banged her forehead and grazed her cheek and nose. Grit from the floor rubbed into the cuts and burned. Someone muttered something and Hermione felt tearing pain in her abdomen, and she curled up, refusing to make a sound. Then the pain passed.
"She speaks rightly, great one." A deatheater said. "She is not pregnant." Voldemort hissed his displeasure, and rose to his feet.
"Kill them both, they have failed me." He ordered, and deatheaters dragged them up off the floor. Hermione spat blood and grit out her mouth, her fear returning now her indignation was gone. She really, really didn't want to die right now. And for all her talk of defending herself, the best she could really manage was the result of several kickboxing lessons about three months ago, during the summer holidays. That didn't really count now, when she had lost her wand and was surrounded by people who were perfectly ready to kill her should she cause trouble.
They were pulled along a corridor, Blaise slightly in front of her. He said nothing about his predicament, but when they passed an opening off the corridor, he jerked his head slightly, and Hermione noticed and looked towards that way and saw a door, very possibly the front door.
Then, before she could react, Blaise exploded in a fury of movement, kicking and punching both his captors and hers, and yelling "Run, Hermione!" at the top of his lungs. Hermione did as she was told, sending a fleeting look back as Blaise was swarmed by black-robed deatheaters. Choking back a sob, she rushed into the dark night, heedless of the direction she ran in.
She reached a road and flung out her right arm, hoping to god the knight bus would appear. It did after all, say 'wand-arm' would call it, not necessarily 'wand-arm-with-wand'. True to some unbelievable luck, the purple bus appeared with a bang, and Hermione stumbled aboard, hiccoughing with repressed sobs.
"Where to miss?" one of the drivers said.
"Hogwarts." She answered quickly. "and please, hurry!"
"That'll be sixteen silver sickles, if ye don't mind, miss."
"I'll pay you when we get there. Just go!"
"We've 'eard that one before, aint we Ernie?" one driver elbowed the other. "Payment up front or not at all. Sorry."
"Look, if I call Harry, will you believe him? He rode with you one time." Hermione pleaded. She could hear shouts from the house. If they didn't bloody well hurry…
"How would we remember an 'arry, eh?" Ernie asked.
"Harry Potter! Look, you must remember him, four years ago, you carried him to Diagon Alley and was met by Fudge!"
"So who're you?" Ernie asked, interested now. Hermione pulled her (thankfully!) undamaged phone out her back pocket, and punched in Harry's number, hoping to any deity listening that Harry had charged his phone like he promised he would, and that it was actually on, which was unlikely.
Hermione? Harry answered, sounding worried.
"Harry! It's me! Please, you have to tell Ernie on the knight bus I'll pay him when we arrive at Hogwarts, but we must hurry!"
Pass me over. Harry said grimly. She did, and Ernie rather tentatively held the phone to his ear.
"Right, right." He passed it back.
I'll pay when you arrive. Just be safe, yes? Harry asked.
"I'll try, Harry. Bye." She hung up.
"Let's go." She told Ernie.
"Right miss. Here we go!" the bus jolted, and Hermione hurried to find a bed, which she collapsed on and slept.
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When she woke, it looked about lunchtime, and they were travelling along a deserted road in the middle of what looked like the Yorkshire moors.
"We'll be a couple' hours yet, miss. But you'll arrive by dinner time tonight, I imagine." Ernie called back. Hermione nodded, and sank back into the pillows. She was safe. Well, mostly. But at what cost? Was Blaise still alive? Was he being punished for setting her free? Well, that was a stupid question. Of course he was. Probably being tortured, excruciating pain making him think he was being ripped limb from limb…Hermione groaned. That was not a pretty picture. Hermione wouldn't even wish that on Malfoy. And she liked Blaise a good deal more than she liked Malfoy.
Hours passed, and Hermione stared blankly out the window or dozed, until she began seeing familiar sights, and when the castle came into view, she sat upright, and tried to tidy herself up as best as she could, using her reflection in the window as a mirror. She looked, frankly, awful. All one side of her face was grazed, as well as her nose. She had a huge bruise forming on her forehead, and the beginnings of a black eye. She hated to think what Blaise looked like now…
"We're 'ere." Hermione jumped up as the bus screeched to a halt.
"I'll get Harry for you." She said quickly.
"No, don't worry 'bout it. Friend of 'arry's is a friend of ours." Hermione shrugged and got off the bus, which disappeared with a bang. Then she was swamped under by Harry and Ron hugging her.
"I cant breathe." She complained after a moment. They let her go, and she saw Malfoy leaning against the wall, watching her. She nodded to him, and he nodded back, then went inside.
"Are you alright?" Ron demanded.
"As expected, I suppose."
"Miss Granger." Hermione saw Prof. McGonagall approaching with Dumbledore, Snape and Madame Pomfrey. "Are you alright?" Dumbledore asked kindly.
"Apart from a few scratches, I think so." Hermione answered truthfully. Madame Pomfrey handed her a huge bar of chocolate and waved her wand at Hermione, muttering a spell. Hermione could feel the insistent itch as the grazes on her face were healed.
"Eat all that chocolate, dear." Pomfrey insisted. Hermione obediantly unwrapped it.
"Would you come to my office, Miss Granger? I think we need to talk." Dumbledore said gently. Hermione nodded. "You boys go back to your dinner. She'll see you later." Harry and Ron reluctantly went back inside, and the crowd of teachers and Hermione followed.
In Dumbledore's office, Hermione sat across from Dumbledore, with McGonagall and Snape behind her. Pomfrey had gone back to the hospital wing.
"What happened?" Dumbledore asked.
"I was walking back to the castle after Herbology, when I got dizzy then there was this flash of light, and then everything went dark." Hermione clenched her hands in her lap to stop them trembling. "When I woke up, I was in…a dungeon, I guess. I don't know where. Blaise was there as well."
"Blaise Zabini?" Snape asked. Hermione nodded.
"Yes. Then they…they brought us into this…throne room. And…" Hermione trailed off. She took deep breaths and closed her eyes, trying to calm down. Just thinking about it made her want to scream and cry and hide in a corner. She took a deep breath, and continued. "Voldemort was there. He's found a prophecy saying that a child with a Slytherin father will-"
"Ensure Voldemort's victory. Yes, I've heard of the prophecy. They've narrowed it down to Mr Zabini and Mr Malfoy, have they not?" Hermione nodded. There was silence for a moment.
"Continue, miss Granger." Dumbledore prompted. Hermione nodded.
"Before school started, I…well, Blaise…well, we…well, yeah. Anyway. When we came back to school, I found out I was pregnant and aborted it, because I'm seventeen! I cant take care of a kid now! So I didn't tell anyone, and just aborted it… I read a spell somewhere, so it wasn't hard. I guess that's why Blaise and I were taken…Voldemort thought I was pregnant, and I wasn't. when he found out, he was furious…" Hermione gulped air. She could remember feeling his anger, surrounding her and weighing her down. It was palpable, and again, she felt hopeless, helpless and lost.
"He ordered us both killed. We were dragged off, and we passed a door. Blaise noticed and suddenly started fighting the deatheaters, he hadnt before, and yelling for me to run. I did, but- professor! I left him behind! They're probably doing horrible things to him, and its all my fault!"
"Mr Zabini makes his own choices. He always has." Snape said. Hermione turned to stare, shocked, at her professor. The Potions master almost looked sympathetic. Almost. Well, he looked as sympathetic as he ever did, which wasn't very much.
"Professor Snape is right, Miss Granger. You are not responsible for Mr Zabini's actions, though you should be thankful for them." Dumbledore agreed. Hermione was quiet. She was tired of all this, and all she wanted to do was go to bed.
"Tomorrow there will be a meeting of the Order, to assign you a guardian, and someone who will teach you what you need to know to protect yourself. For while you and Mr Potter and Mr Weasley knew about the Order, you were not directly involved. This attack means that you will have to know what's going on totally, as you seem to have become a key player in Voldemort's plans. It'll be tomorrow evening, in my office. Alright?" Hermione nodded, and Dumbledore smiled. "Go to bed, Miss Granger. Get some sleep." Hermione nodded, and rose to her feet. Dumbledore nodded, and she walked out of his office, feeling numb.
Her friends met her at the entrance to Dumbledore's office, but she walked silently beside them as they escorted her back to the Head suite. At the entrance, she kissed them both on the cheek and disappeared inside, still not saying a word. Ron and Harry exchanged a worried look, and went back to the Gryffindor common room.
Hermione walked into her common room, and suddenly felt like she couldn't take another step, so she curled up on one of the couches, stared into the fire, and eventually fell asleep.
Being asleep, she didn't see or hear Malfoy walk in, and stand watching her for nearly ten minutes, before he draped a red blanket over her and went to bed. And he didn't bring it up in the morning.
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